Once Upon A December
Chapter 4: Pianos, Phone Calls and Presents
Syaoran leaned back against a wall of a oil factory warehouse that had partly burned down years before. It was never knocked down for fear of hidden oil leaking into the water systems, or somehow catching fire. Surprisingly, it was stable as ever; and the basement, which only a few select people knew about, was still perfectly safe; the door was hidden well under a rug and floor board in a room that wasn't that well damaged. Inside the basement was pretty well stripped of all that was of value; all that remained were a few bunk beds, a fireplace with a few partly used logs, a piano that no one had bothered to take because of it's weight and some near empty oil containers that were probably going to be refilled the day after the fire.
"Comfortable, Sarah?"
Sarah sat on the lower bunk of the first bed against the far end of the wall. Syaoran was seated on the top of the bed that was placed against the connecting wall her bed was on, so he could see the door ahead of him.
Or, more importantly, her. Who the hell knows what she might do.
"Very," Sarah answered, voice dripping of sarcasm. Her bag lay at the foot of the bed, beside her.
Syaoran's eyes narrowed. "You should at least be grateful were not out in the forest."
"Sauce!," Sarah's voice rang out in a very dignified manor. She clamped a hand over her mouth. Where did that come from? She never spoke like that! Only stuck up snobs used such language.
"Practicing your royal expressions," Syaoran asked arching an eyebrow.
Sarah glared daggers towards her fellow adventurer as she stood up. "Just shut up! We're in a horrible mess right now! How can you joke? We need to find Eriol!"
"No, we need to get the hell to Finland."
"We need to find Eriol!"
"WE NEED TO GO TO FINLAND!"
"What the hell do you have against him? He was the one who knew how to get to Paris! He was the one who kept us from fighting! He was the only one of us who kept his cool in troublesome situations, like, say, this one perhaps?!," Sarah's voice cracked as tears began making their way down her cheek. "Eriol...Syaoran...Eriol, we n-need, E-Eriol. H-he, Syaoran, what-what...what are....we going t-to do?" Sarah covered her face as she let herself fall to the ground as Syaoran's face softened it's features. She was scared.
Down right scared.
Not only of losing Eriol due to Yamazacki; never making it to Paris; finding out that she isn't Sakura Kinomoto after all and still has no family; and not even of killing Syaoran in his sleep because of his absurd annoyingness. No, she was scared of something only Eriol could help with. The only person in the world who could save her from trying to figure something out in her heart that tore her apart inside and out.
Why?
Eriol is the only thing that kept Syaoran from looking at her the way he was right now.
A black haired Eriol got off the train in a suburb of St. Petersburg in higher class looking clothes flashing the guard his legal passport containing the name Eli Moon. Alright, being the first to admit it, he was only about 40 miles away from where he was last seen, which didn't give him much time to get the hell past the border of a Western country such as Estonia, Latvia or Lithuania. From there he could go on to Poland, or, if luck was with him, Ukraine as planned before and hopefully meet up with Syaoran and Sarah. Because....they had enough sense to stick to the plan and not go to Finland.
Right?
Going to Finland would be an complete disaster! Yamazacki wasn't stupid—nor were the police. They would track down the fastest route out of Russia and follow it until they reached the border of the closest country. If they didn't find who they were looking for, they'd go on and search kilometers into Finland...until they were sure the target wasn't there. No, Syaoran was smart. He'd figure it out for himself. He was level-headed. He was the most responsible, thought out person Eriol knew.
Syaoran was arrogant, stubborn and heading to Finland.
Who the hell was he trying to convince? Oh, that's right. Himself. So much for heading into a Western country. Damn conscience.
Eriol quickly found a sign indicating where the public use phones were among the crowds at the train station. Handing the clerk at the counter a few dollars, to pay for at least five or six minutes of phone use, he entered a one of the long distance booths, closing the door behind him. The clerk noted which booth he entered and connected Eriol. He trembled as his fingers pressed the numbers needed to by-pass an operator and connected himself directly to the Daidoji's phone system.
"Hello? Daidoji residence. May I ask who's calling?"
"Eriol Hirragizawa....I'm calling for Miss Tomoyo Daidoji. It's very urgent."
"One moment, Mr. Hirragizawa...."
Eriol watched as the time counter counted down his seconds. 5:52. 5:51. 5:50.
"Eriol?," a sweet sounding feminine voice rang out full of urgency. "Eriol, what's wrong...."
Eriol drew in a deep breath. "Tomoyo...."
Syaoran watched deep in thought as Sarah struck various keys of the old piano left in the basement, as if trying to conger up some sort of melody. He closed his eyes, thinking back to his short training in the piano. Sarah defiantly had some sort of training; he was sure of that. Either that or she was some sort of person with a special sense of rhythm. Or, she was just getting lucky and hitting keys that complimented each other so much you were almost certain you were hearing a modern day Mozart create a master piece.
He watched as her face began to lift a little as she played a few keys over and over in the same pattern, as if finding the order she was looking for. Slowly she began trying to add in others following her beginning and a song. She played her 'pattern' three times over then, in between, added a few keys and repeated. She continued on for the next twenty minutes to play the 20 second chorus she put together.
After she seemed confidant in what she was playing she began trying to start a new pattern but began stumbling over her own fingers. The keys she needed meant she had to reach across and use both hands to play; Syaoran opened his eyes and observed her hands. She obviously had never been taught how to move her hands and fingers in sync with each other.
"Use your right arm to play the right half of the piano and the left arm to play the left half. You'll never be able to hit the keys on time unless you use both hands."
Sarah whipped around to see him watching her. She had thought he was asleep. "You...heard that?"
Syaroan nodded. "Quite brilliant if you ask me."
Sarah bit her bottom lip. "You...know how to play the piano?"
"I had three years of training."
Sarah walked up to the young man on the top bunk bed. "It takes way more than three years to play professionally. How would you be able to tell the difference between brilliance and inability?"
Syaoran jumped down and walked towards the piano, Sarah in tow. He struck the keys Sarah had played before without a flaw and looked back up into her emerald eyes. "You played this higher pitched scale with the lower notes of the next scale down. They compliment each other so beautifully the way you put them together. So many musicians can play complicated pieces but struggle with learning how to make their own original music. Creating a solid base is always hard, which is what you just did. I take it, that was the intro? Intros always establish the base." Syaoran sat in the bench which accompanied the piano and leaned back. "You've played before, haven't you?"
Sarah shook her head. "No I haven't. It's a song...a song I remember. I just wanted to see if....well I wanted to try and see if I....got it out of my system, I would be able to let it go. You know?" Sarah ran a hand though her short auburn hair. "Syaoran would you be able to help me? I can't figure out the next part. It has these two different like sounds played together, and maybe you could write it down the notes-"
"I can't read music."
Sarah laughed. "You can play, lecture me on telling professional from beginner, but you can't read music?"
Syaoran's gaze didn't falter. "I can't read music. I was taught by a blind instructor who was...visiting...the palace where I—never mind. Anyway, he taught me to play the different keys together. He would show me how, and judge if I was using my fingers right by the way each note came out. I never leaned to read or write notes; I simply pick it up by sound."
Sarah nodded. "Music can only be mastered when playing becomes something never heard-"
"-Instead of a replica of something already made." Syaoran's eyes widened as he realized he had just finshied the sentence Sarah had started.
"Princess?"
Syaoran whipped his head around as a man entered. "No, no. Sorry. I'm just a servant boy who was reading the piano...oh, you must be Master Gevoni. You're a bit early-"
"What's your name, boy?"
"Syaoran, sir."
"Syaoran, eh? Sit yourself down at the piano."
"I-I-don't play, sir."
"Nonsense. "
"I don't even know how to read the notes! Nor can I play any piece. I'm simply reading this piano for Her Highness- "
"Music can only be mastered when playing becomes something never heard instead of a replica of something already made." The old man smiled in Syaoran's direction, his eyes unfocused, but yet still seeing. "I'd say, from how you were hitting those keys earlier, you are already miles ahead of many."
"Eriol-Eriol? Are you alright?"
Eriol leaned against the hard wood wall of the booth. "Yes, yes. Quite fine."
"Where are you?"
"St. Petersburg....Tomoyo, do you remember Yamazacki?"
"Yes. Dreadful boy. I told you and Syaoran NOT to trust him long ago. And neither of you dimwits believed me! Hmpf! Let me guess. This has something to do with him, right?"
Eriol smiled. She was always good at reading minds. Sometimes he could have sworn there was something unnatural about it. "Yes. Tomoyo, look. I am about to tell you things that you could be arrested for if anyone found out you knew it. I'll hang up now—I don't want you pulled into this-"
"Eriol, how many times do I have to tell you? Just because I'm a pampered, rich city girl doesn't mean I'm fragile. Actually, it's quite the opposite."
Eriol smiled to himself. "Yes, it is. Tomoyo...remember when I told you that- that-"
"That you loved me?"
Eriol turned bright red. "Urrrr, yes."
"And you never ever proposed either!"
"Tomoyo, I-"
"ERIOL! How many times do we have to talk this over?! We went our separate ways after you found Syaoran again in St. Petersburg, just eight years after the siege. I couldn't believed he ran away to work from them though!"
Eriol took a deep breathe in. "Tomoyo I didn't propose because-"
"It's over, Eriol. What about Yamazacki?"
Eriol lowered his voice. "Right. Well, I called because we're in trouble—me, Syaoran, and Sarah."
"Sarah?"
"The girl Syaoran believes to be Sakrua Kinomoto."
"I see. Yes, I do believe Syaoran already spoke to me about that. This is has to do with Yamazacki how?"
Eriol pressed the phone closer to his face. "Me and Syaoran..." Eriol sighed. He couldn't explain why he was in trouble because of Yamazacki without explaining why he hadn't proposed to Tomoyo. In fact, the reason he hadn't proposed was because of what himself, Syaoran, and Yamazacki had gotten into. "He got me and Syaoran in trouble. Now, Syaoran's hells knows where with Sarah and I'm just getting by—another half hour and I won't be able to get out of St. Petersburg. We're in trouble Tomoyo. Big trouble."
"I can tell. How are you going to locate Syaoran and this girl?"
"I'm going after them. I know they're headed towards Finland-"
"-obviously the wrong choice."
Eriol smiled. "Correct. I need to get them, Tomoyo. They're in big trouble."
"Well, don't leave me out of this!"
Eriol frowned. "What?"
"I'm going to come over and help you!"
Eriol almost fell over. "WHAT?!"
"Sarah, who told you that?" Syaoran opened his eyes to see a worried Sarah leaned over him.
Sarah shrugged. "Must be a famous quote or like philosophy of something if you seem to know it too." She walked back to her bunk. "Syaoran, do you think Eriol's looking of us?"
Syaoran shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. I can't tell with him." Syaoran eyed the bag beside her bed. "What did you ever buy with the money we gave you?"
"Look, you're not going to be able to get very far at all—besides you need money. Where can I meet you?," an impatient Tomoyo explained to Eriol.
"Tomoyo, we don't have a certain route."
"Exactly. I can help with that. Can you get Syaoran and the girl and be in Ukraine within a week?"
"Tomoyo-"
"Can you?"
Eriol sighed. "I can't. It's not enough time. I have to go up to Finland and wait for them—hell, I have to visit a few near by towns to look for them too."
"Eriol Hirragizawa! How the hell are you going to find them like that? Syaoran won't leave a trail!"
Eriol sighed. "Alright. What do you propose Miss Daidoji?"
Tomoyo giggled at her old nickname. "Well, I can be in Moscow in 30 hours. Being part Royal does have it's perks."
"First: it's not humanly possible to travel that far in 30 hours. Second: I'm not staying in Russia. Third: I have two in a half minutes left."
"Yes it is: There's a special train non stop route that hits capital cities only. Very expensive, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Oh, and you will get the hell to Moscow."
Eriol sighed. Tomoyo had made up her mind. "Alright, so your going to come along and risk bringing down everything the Daidoji name stands for, after all if we're caught, you will be in trouble too."
"Exactly. It's been years since you, me and Syaoran had a real life adventure. Remember when we were kids, how we all use to live in Moscow together? Then, Syaoran's family moved to China; then Syaoran ran away to St. Petersburg at age ten to work for the Royal Family in their palace there—do you think Sakura ever knew him? Probably not; then I moved to France the year the Kinomoto's went missing to avoid being kidnapped as well; and then two years later your family moved to England! We all ended up apart by the time we were ten! Well I was 10...you and Syaoran were 12. Good thing me and you kept in contact, though! Then we found Syaoran again! And we're going to meet up again in Moscow, where we all met!"
"Thirty seconds-"
"Three days sound good? Main station, just ask for the port of the train I'm taking. Round, say, five o' clock? No earlier, maybe a bit—say and hour—later?" 0:10; 0:09
"Alright, Tomoyo. I'll see you in three days. Make sure you-," 0:00, "call me Eli."
Sarah walked back over to the bag and pulled out a few tissue-paper wrapped items. "Just, you know, a few dresses and accessories like Eriol said to get. And—oh!," Sarah pulled out a smaller package as she walked over and sat beside Syaoran on the piano bench, "this is for you."
Syaoran arched an eyebrow as Sarah handed him a smaller package than the ones she had gotten for herself. "I thought you hated me."
Sarah shrugged. "I do. But, it was your money."
"Who said I wanted you to waste it on me?"
"I didn't waste it. I bought you a present!"
"With my money! Who said I wanted anything?!" Syaoran retored. Once he fooled the Dowager Empress into thinking she was that Royal Snob Sakura Kinomoto, he would be rich. Why did her care if she wasted a bit of his money probably buying him some stupid present?
Sarah stood up and placed his box on the top of the piano. "You are impossible! I bought you a gift—and you throw it in my face!" Sarah stormed back to her bed, kicking off her shoes and placing her jacket beside the department store bed beside the bunk bed. She got under the covers and blew out the oil lamp. Her half of the basement became dark.
Syaoran sat by the piano for what must have been hours—Sarah's shallow breathing could be heard for the past few hours, indicating she had fallen asleep a while ago. He glanced towards the brown box and slowly pulled out a tissue paper wrapped item. He slowly peeled off the layers of tissue paper to reveal a velvet box. She bought me jewelery?! He opened the box and found something that made his breath catch in his throat.
Inside the box was a simple long gold chain, long enough to be well hidden under a shirt, with a pendant of a small green wolf accented with amber. He smiled as he saw three small words engraved at the bottom: Stability Endurance Hope.
He put the pendant around his neck and tucked it into his shirt. He noticed a card tucked into the box to. Opening it, he couldn't help but smile.
Stability to keep life grounded in the present; Endurance for the road to come; Hope to keep the future in sight.
He sliped the card in an inside pocket in his jacket and walked back over to his buck. He lay still hand over the pendant that felt cool against his skin.
His eyes widened as the realization hit him.
Syaoran Li in Japanese—Xiaolang in Chinese—Little Wolf in English.
How did she know what his name meant?
