Title: An irreplaceable Lotus

What was it?

There was just something going on with her that morning that gave her that extra burst of perky she depended on to maintain her ever-cheerful disposition. For the first time in what felt like the longest time, she felt energized and—and happy. This was certainly a major development, considering the past nightmare of a week that could've come straight out of a soap opera had been a living hell.

Suffice to say, the feeling of happiness felt almost foreign, and it was definitely readily welcomed with open arms.

She had awoken with a smile on her face even though she had been pounced on by a red alarm clock. Although, admittedly, that was more or less her fault as it was she who had smacked it so hard it bounced off the backboard and onto her head.

Speaking of clocks, what time was—oh.

Oh my.

A scream or two later, Touya poked his head around the door and knocked tentatively. "I heard something that sounded like a dying cat," he greeted warmly, "I'm guessing things are back to normal with you and your brat?"

"Syoaran is not a brat!" Sakura defended as she quickly rushed to her closet and threw open its doors. She hesitated briefly as she reached for her uniform, before ripping it off the hanger. She felt somewhat hypocritical as there was a voice deep within her that said very intrusively, "Yes, you naïve twit, he is a brat, and you've been calling him worse."

"At this rate, you'd be horrible living on your own." Touya observed with a grin as she obviously darted back and forth wondering if she should brush her teeth first or fix her hair at the vanity. "You'd never have time to eat breakfast much less make lunch." A pause. "So I took the liberty of packing it for you this morning. You'd better go get it before I change my mind."

Sakura whirled around to face him, her hands frozen in their current position—one hand grabbing a fistful of hair and the other encircling the elastic. "Whoa, back up. You made me lunch?"

"Don't get used to it."

Sakura grinned and grabbed her bag off her bed before leaping onto Touya's retreating back. Instinctively he hunched over and grabbed the back of her thighs in surprise. "I love you!" She exclaimed, burying her face in his back as he piggy-backed her down the stairs.

"Sure."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Gwen gaze down the unfamiliar winding streets of Japan and felt a stray breeze lift her hair up and over her shoulders. How appropriate given the dramatic atmosphere of her life at this moment.

"Are you going to knock?"

Sure, she had found her way to Syoaran's mansion without any difficulty whatsoever given the fact that it towered over the other residences. However, it looked so foreign and intimidating that she couldn't help but feel unwelcome and stranger to it.

"I can't, Ashen. Let's just go somewhere else." Gwen managed a weak smile. "The point is that we escaped that deadbeat without being subjected to his wrath. Knowing him, he's probably out drinking."

"Yes, and making us new half-siblings as we speak. Are you going to knock on that door, or aren't you?" Eyeing her gently, Ashen playfully whacked her on the arm. "Hey, what's with that defeatist attitude? We've come this far already. Syoaran wouldn't turn two of his childhood friends away."

She was quiet for a moment before cocking her head thoughtfully to the side. That was true. And even if Syoaran somehow adopted a bastardly side to him,

Gwen was quiet for a moment, and cocked her head thoughtfully to the side. "Yeah. And even if Syoaran said no even to you, Meiling never would." She chewed her lower lip while discreetly stealing a look at Ashen to catch his all-too-predictable reaction.

"Meiling?" Ashen repeated, his mouth hanging wide open, his adorable eyes brightening up his model-esque features. "She's here?" All of a sudden, as if he just suffered a spontaneous explosion of several arteries, his face turned a bright red. The way he got so excited over something like this and someone like her was just so cute. Gwen smiled innocently and approached the large house, whispering sweet prayers to anyone—everyone. God, her dead mother; anyone with or without a pulse.

The bell rang and each passing second felt like hours. It was apparent that Meiling must have beat Eduardo to the door, because it was she who opened it, gasping for breath as if she had sprinted from another story. A look of surprise, shock, and anxiety was evidently mixed on the Chinese girl's face, as she eyed Gwen standing there on Syoaran's doorstep with a large suitcase in hand.

"Gwen! What are you—" Hopefully, she hadn't come to scream at her face, even though she had run over her mind several times last night now to apologize to prevent it from happening. Given what had happened to her in the past, Gwen really didn't deserve any more injury.

Of course, concurrently everything that happened to her as karma was undoubtedly justified, but Meiling couldn't possibly put the blame on Gwen as to what had happened to her way back when to have changed her this way.

"I… I left home." Gwen said, sheepishly trying to look anywhere but Meiling's quiet gaze. Managing to settle her eyes at her mouth, which was as far up as she could force herself, it took all her will power to keep it there. "You're not some stranger, Meiling. You know that I couldn't have possibly stayed with him any longer."

Meiling's eyes immediately softened, and her grip on the doorknob relaxed, as a look of pure sympathy and what may have been sorrow crossed her face. A hint of relief could also be seen, which somewhat puzzled Gwen considering what had happened between the two of them recently.

Holding her breath, Gwen cursed at herself, feeling ashamed for having to bring something like this up. Normally, even if she were to beg for something, she would never use her poor relationship with her father as a stepping stone for what she wanted. Somehow, it had just—slipped out. "Won't you help me?"

"Of course," Meiling murmured, almost warmly, as she enveloped Gwen in a hug, rubbing her back consolingly as she felt her renewed friend shudder with soft sobs against her, something she thought would never happen. "I wanted to apologize to you about what had happened. I shouldn't have hit you. It's just, I'm such good friends with Sakura now, I had forgotten all about—but you love him too. I know you always have. And I'm sorry."

Opening her eyes, Gwen hastily wiped her tears before moving back, forcing a smile. "I… I brought someone. Just another reason for me to come see you, even if you didn't forgive me." Turning, she gestured towards a figure standing on the opposite side of the lawn. Squinting, Meiling followed her outstretched finger and gasped. "Ash?"

As expected, all previous thoughts escaped her mind, and as predicted, she practically sprinted down the front steps and cut across the yard to get to him on the sidewalk. Leaning against the doorframe, Gwen couldn't help but laugh as she swung both arms around his neck. Her loud, piercing voice could somewhat be heard even all the way over where she was.

"Gwen?"

Suddenly realizing the gravity of her situation, Gwen jumped quickly, understanding she wasn't completely out of the frying pan just yet. Syoaran's handsome face invaded her vision as he showed up at the door behind her, giving her an inquisitive look. Then he looked straight ahead and caught sight of Ashen and Gwen together.

After exchanging knowing smiles, the two of them cracked up.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Sakura! Good morning!" Tomoyo called out cheerfully, sitting down beside her best friend. "Meiling called me last night to fill me on the cavities. She's been doing the honours since you haven't nearly been keeping me updated enough." Touching Sakura's hand gently, she grinned. "What happened? You look so happy today!"

Sakura was about to burst into joyous song when Meiling entered the classroom, Syoaran and Gwen following not too far behind. Together. And not in the "I-bumped-into-her- -coincidentally-and-we-both-made-our-way-in" sort of together. It was the sort of "we're-together-and-have-been-together-and-are-con scious-about-being-together" kind of together. Yes, when Sakura panicked, her thoughts were extremely repetitive.

"Good morning Sakura." Immediately approaching her, Syoaran instinctively drew her close and kissed her lightly on top of her head, melting away all doubts that had formed. Gwen immediately seemed extremely interested in her black suede shoes, and it wasn't anger that Sakura saw in her eyes—but a stir of hurt. Was it because now that she was in Syoaran's hospitality and care, she shouldn't do anything that may anger him? It was possible.

Tomoyo also seemed to notice Gwen's peculiarly docile behaviour, but Meiling didn't seem to give her any sign of explanation or gossip. Shuffling away from the couple, Syoaran sat down appreciatively in Tomoyo's generously forfeited seat.

Also breaking away from the group, Meiling began to fill Tomoyo in on the details. Looking down at Sakura adoringly, Syoaran couldn't seem to let her go. "Would you like to come to the amusement park tonight?" He asked, looking back and forth from Sakura to Gwen, making it clear the invitation was extended to the both of them.

Sakura readily accepted, and Gwen seemed to genuinely consider it, when a shadow of despair passed over her face. "Oh! I can't. I really, really, can't." Her eyes looked—actually apologetic. The sincerity that was so novel to Sakura seemed to make Gwen's disposition much, much more sweeter, and much more attractive. "I have a ballet rehearsal tonight. I'm a lead role, I can't afford to not be there. If I'm absent for more than three days, my understudy will officially take my role. And if I don't call in with an important excuse or doctor's note, I might blow my career as a dancer for life."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Missing.

Two adolescent children.

How could that man go a night and a morning without sensing the absence of his two kids? Clearly, that man wasn't fit to raise a cactus plant. He was an insult to the word "father," and he was an insult to her.

"What in God's name do you mean when you say my children are gone?" Jade hissed, horrified. Although technically, Ashen was her only biological child, but that didn't cause her regard for Gwen as a daughter any less obvious.

"I knocked on both their doors to clean, and neither of them were there. Have you seen your husband since you came back?" The maid who had delivered the news asked worriedly. "No, more importantly, do you think it is necessary for us to contact the police?"

"I will find him. And please do so." Jade assured her, before whirling around and walking—well, more like stomping. It's so hard to power walk in heels. Regardless, she made her way towards her husband's study. There was no way he wouldn't be there, judging by the stench, and she was right. He was always there—drinking, as usual. Empty shot glasses and bottles littered the floor, while all his books seemed relatively untouched.

Considering the man and his perpetual drunken stupor, they were pretty much there just for show.

Flinging open the heavy, wooden doors, Jade flew inside in a panic. "My God, Lee, they've gone missing!" Unfortunately, she was greeted by the unwelcoming but unsurprising sight of her husband lying on a futon beside two scantily-clad women.

The position of their hands and his alone was enough to make Jade compelled to turn and vomit, but she wrestled the awful feeling down as she reminded herself that by now she should be used to his manwhorish personality.

"That's nice." Lee replied lazily, and the woman to his left sat up and adjusted what vaguely resembled a bra, but looked more like two, tiny, shoddily-sewn triangles of fabric. It would appear this young, misled prostitute was irritated from being so rudely interrupted, because she turned to him and demanded to know who she was.

"My sister." Lee replied, as if Jade wasn't there to disprove his ridiculous attempt to lie. It just came to show that some people were intelligent strictly in the academic sense. "I wouldn't worry about her, if I were you."

"So that's all?" The presumed-to-be whore slumped back down on the couch and nuzzled his neck with her nose. "Who's missing?"

"My sister has an insect collection." Lee murmured, stroking her perfectly shaven legs and inner thigh. "There are two especially exotic bugs that I detest above all that she fancies. I've wanted to see them crushed for years, so forgive that I don't seem to care about their disappearance."

With that, he flicked his eyes in her direction, before literally waving her away like a waiter.

Deducing the possibility of kidnapping immediately, Jade assumed they must have just packed their things and left.

A check of their rooms would confirm it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It had already been three, painfully slow hours since her rehearsal had started. Somehow, she doubted that military training was more brutal than this. The amount of energy exerted to maintain a sense of poise, balance, grace and whatever traits it was that being a ballerina entailed—ugh, needless to say, it was an absolute pain in the ass.

She had prevented herself from thinking of her personal life all day. She refused to think about Syoaran and his relationship with Sakura. She refused to think even of Ashen and his relationship with Meiling. And she absolutely refused to think of her dad. The word alone made her cringe.

Then again, from being worked as hard as she was, no one could blame her for not having any time whatsoever to even think for herself for just a minute or even half.

"Again! Arabesque! Turnout!"

"Battement Tendu! And again!"

Gwen stood up, a layer of sweat glistening on her skin as she continued doing the moves that her instructor incessantly shouted out at a speed impossible for the average human being.

"Vite!" Her teacher yelled in his native tongue, almost exasperatedly. "Gwen, tu est une tres bonne danseur. Vite, vite!"

Feeling sweat streaming down her temple unattractively like rivers, she had to perform all her moves absolutely perfect under her instructor's watchful eye. She began to twirl more quickly than usual. The brightness of her eyes had to "reflect the inner soul." She felt like shit.

The spectators peering in through the glass seemed to have all eyes on her, the lead who was taking in the most critique and seemed to display the most potential, and it was her job to give them a show. Their approval in this window just reinforced her confidence that she'd excel in the actual production.

Somehow, her mind wasn't really into it, but she demanded herself to stick to the now.

Shut up, you whining brat, she scolded herself, You're the swan. Be a swan. Be fast. The word buzzed in her mind as the pain from overexerting her body and previous fatigue seemed to be getting the better of her. I didn't get Syoaran, but at least I'll always have dancing.

Her instructor ended up shouting out some other complaint or six to her, when Gwen suddenly felt her body fall out of sync from her intention, and with a shockingly agonizing scream, Gwen's lack-of-concentration caused ber body to twist her foot in what seemed like a 180-degree turn, and her spotter—Paul—had no chance of catching her as she fell ungracefully from the side of the stage, ramming her head hard against one of the large support beams nearby.

Her leg, already injured, made a deafening crack against one of the wooden props lying on the ground, but the piercing throb of her skull dominated any other sense of pain. But she could only think of one thing that could possibly be worse.

Please don't tell my father…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"How could this have happened?" Lee yelled angrily, storming down the hospital hall as he made his way to the room where Gwen was lying meekly in her hospital bed. Her leg was wrapped in layers of pins and bandages under a cast, hung up by a metal casing hanging it limply into the air. His wife had come to literally drag him from work, and he was stricken from having that horrid woman interrupt him in his time of professional work.

He eyed her with nothing less than disgust as he caught side of her, fully conscious. "Who in God's name do you think you are, girl? You leave this house, sever ties with this family, and then you get yourself screwed up in the leg. If you're going to leave, by all means, leave! Stop causing me trouble!" Feeling all the blood rush to his face in the midst of his fury, he grabbed a handful of Gwen's hair and pulled her up from the pillow. "You women! You and your mother. You're worthless!"

"Let go of me, you chauvinistic cow!" Gwen shrieked, nearly biting her tongue to resist letting out a cry of pain as she managed to knock herself free from her father, grateful that her fall had not affecter her brain. "Don't you ever touch me again, you pedophiliac!"

Lee's face softened for a moment, and the change in expression actually made Gwen just that much more tense. He took steps closer to the bed, and Gwen couldn't help but slide over and cower in the corner—as far away from him as she could get.

"Bringing that night up, huh? Is this your way of saying you want more?"

Those words practically paralyzed her in fear. Or maybe it was the drugs. Probably the drugs. Ookay, the room was getting swirly. It was definitely the drugs.

Her vision was becoming a teensy bit impaired, but that didn't stop her body from feeling—if just a little bit more numbly. A certain touch made her want to scream at the top of her lungs, but her body just wouldn't allow it as she felt her father's rough hands invade the inside of her cotton shirt.

"And to think that I've left you alone for this long…"

Despite the tranquilizer, she felt hot tears escape down the sides of her cheekbones. Suddenly, a familiar, "What the fuck are you doing?" rang out from the door, and Lee swivelled around just in time to see his son standing there—looking down at his father. Had he always been so large? Even at his full height, Lee couldn't tower over Ashen like he used to.

When had both his kids both matured so?

"Shouldn't you be someplace else?" Lee snapped. "Why must trouble always come in pairs?"

"Shut up, you! Get the hell away from my sister!" Ashen dashed into the room and shoved Lee, hard, who luckily loosened his grip on Gwen.

It certainly didn't take a genius to figure out that Lee was more than happy to be relieved of his parental duties, and his joy practically radiated from him as he skipped out merrily to his extravagant car—his daughter's pain notwithstanding.

Upon Ashen's angered shouting, a nurse had come running to the door. This must have been her original destination, as she had Gwen's folder in her arms. "Is this a bad time?" She asked quietly, looking mildly frightened.

"Yes." Ashen snapped, before he thought better of it. "No." But then again, he didn't want to explain what had just occurred. "Maybe." he continued indecisively before he turned to stare at her. "What is it?"

"I—we need Gwen's X-ray results for this to be properly diagnosed, but… her ankle…" the nurse hesitated, before walking over to Gwen's bedside. "I know the doctor gave you the tranquilizer, but if I'm correct you should be able to think properly."

"Sure. But what is it? How is she?"

Looking up into Ashen's eyes, she took a breath. "Um, this accident was caused by dance? If I may ask… is she very good?" Whatever ethnicity she was, her accent definitely showed.

"The best in her class."

"Oh."

There was another awkward silence with some shuffling and fidgeting on her part, and Ashen was just about ready to strangle it out of her when she spoke up. "Externally, most of the wounds on her body are superficial and will heal relatively quickly. Her ankle, on the other hand, has sustained severe damages both from the dancing itself and from the fall." She paused. "If the doctor had to take a guess, it'd take almost a year for you to get back to even walking by yourself. In the meantime, you've been assigned to crutches and a rehabilitation course, but—"

"A year?" Her performance was in a couple of weeks!

Even in her immobilized state, Gwen felt herself shudder. Okay, so her big break would be easily passed over to another girl. So maybe her body would be out of shape by the time her foot healed. With her discipline, it shouldn't take altogether too long to return to her former glory.

"Yes. But that's only the good news."

Uh, what?

The nurse looking annoyingly apologetic, although she couldn't even dream of understanding the kind of splintering pain either of them could possibly be feeling. "I'm sorry for your loss, but surgery can't possibly bring it back to its initial strength. Parts of the muscle and tissue have been torn, and her tendon damaged. I'm sorry, but she won't be able to dance again."

That last sentence rang through her ears, and even without the drug's help all movement ceased.

She wouldn't be able to dance.

Her life was over.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Damn kids!"

Lee rammed the glass so hard against the hard surface of the counter he was surprised it didn't shatter in his grip or on impact. Flipping it upside down, he groggily barked at the bartender something about shoddily-crafted supplies and another refill, stat. Jake Wells, frowned at him as he reluctantly refilled the glass. The last of the night, he heard himself mentally promise, before I call this man a taxi.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

Just by the mere sound of her authoritative voice, even through the drunken atmosphere Lee could still recognize the aghast tone of his wife. Turning to glare at her as if she were some foreign alien, he didn't bother to acknowledge the fact that she had followed him into this bar.

"Oh, do shut up woman!" Lee snapped in an aggravated tone as he downed his drink. He had raised it for a refill when he noticed Jake gone from the counter. Great. "Go back to the kitchen, won't you, and make me a fucking sandwich."

"So you're trying to tell me you consume more than just alcohol now? That's interesting." It wasn't even that what she said was so witty that it made him angry. It was the tone of her voice. So condescending and sarcastic; he actually felt himself blush in embarrassment.

"I told you to shut up!" Reaching over the counter, he picked up the almost-empty-but-not-quite bottle that Jake had been servicing him with and threw it at her head. If he wasn't so influenced by the alcohol, it may have smacked right into her face. But due to his slightly blurred vision, it smashed into the wall behind her.

Letting out a shriek at the sound, Jade's hands flew to her face as she felt shards and droplets of liquid spray in every which way—and on her. After registering what the hell had just happened, she threw her purse onto the ground angrily, her face as white as a sheet.

"Look at you! You've definitely had more than enough. You're going home, right now! And when we do, you're going to fill out those divorce papers and that will be the end of it!"

"I said shut up! Who are you, my mother?" Lee shouted angrily, his loud voice bellowing over even the music that was playing inside the bar. He got to his feet and accidentally knocked his school over. "You think this band around my finger means you own me, woman? How dare you order me around?" Walking right up to her in the most intimidating way he knew possible, he pulled her chin closer to him with one hand and with the other grabbed at her ass. "Don't try to tell me what to do. Woman is nothing but a vessel to the husband."

"You're not my husband, you drunken lout." Jade replied bitterly, her eyes twinkling with heavy hate. "You're nothing but a piece of trash who got a fast break—me."

Suddenly looking more infuriated than she'd ever seen, Lee stood up tall so that his shadow alone loomed over his wife, bathing her in the darkness. Although most of him was silhouetted by the backlights, she could still see the glint of murder in his eyes as he took hold of her collar and grabbed a fistful of her hair—before slamming it hard into the wall behind her.

Again.

And again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Hospital?"

Sakura looked at Syoaran, startled, when he said that word. The two of them had been sitting on a bench, eating parfaits when he had gotten that call. As Syoaran repeated pretty much everything that was being said to him in disbelief, Sakura definitely got the gist of the conversation. All thoughts of enjoying this one night to its fullest immediately flew from her mind as Syoaran's talk with Ashen continued. "This has to be some kind of sick joke, right?"

Although there was definitely no way it could be. He wouldn't lie. Especially about something like this.

Before he even finished the call, Sakura darted from his side and immediately hailed a cab—perfectly willing to pay the exorbitant fee at whatever cost if it took them to the hospital that much faster.

Syoaran practically leapt in after her, wondering how she was and how serious the injury could be. Since the secretary definitely wouldn't release this type of confidential information to anyone but family, Ashen had taken the liberty of doing it himself.

Gwen couldn't dance anymore.

Her dancing was one of the very first things that caused his heart to skip a beat all those years ago. She was so elegant, so poised and graceful—she was easily the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen when she was performing.

She was in love with the stage. And the stage was in love with her. But—

Gwen couldn't dance anymore.

It was the only thing she ever truly enjoyed nowadays, and it was taken away from her.

…Hm.

Just like everything else.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ashen was way past infuriated with his father. The word 'fury' didn't even come close to explaining the mixture of hate, disgust, and sadism that he felt for the man from whom half of his very being was composed of.

How dare he? How dare he.

Not only did he not give two damns about his offspring or the fact that his daughter had just lost all chance for an amazing career of glamour and respect, but he just had to go and lay his filthy, masturbating hands on his mother. His mother! The one who actually put up with their husband all these years for their sake. How could such a man with such blatant dumbassery even be conceived? The thought was unfathomable.

"Where is she?" He ran down the hallway from Gwen's hospital room to the emergency room, where her mother had been rushed into. He couldn't see a thing.

"Why, hello." A voice said behind him, who appeared to be a doctor holding onto a clipboard. His casual behaviour made Ashen want to just smack him over the head with something. He looked down at his chart before looking at him curiously. "Patient 20019—are you family?"

Despite not knowing who exactly 20019 was, Ashen was positive that it was his mother. "I'm her son. What happened?"

"I'd like you to calm down as much as you can. I'm positive the situation with your father will be sorted out accordingly in good time." The patronizing tone of this man's voice was making Ashen all the angrier.

He promptly decided that he hated this man.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Gwen was a great many things. At least, that's what she strived to be. One thing she was not, however, was stupid. Luckily, unintelligence had bypassed her and plagued virtually everybody else around her after puberty, but she remained impervious to its gravitational pull.

And Ashen knew this. So why was he trying to hide it? It wasn't as if she was in the dark about what had happened with their mother—and no matter how Ashen tried to pretend as if there was nothing out of the ordinary despite the massacring of her foot, she just knew. If the sullen look in his eyes hadn't given it away, one of the interns certainly did when she entered the room and pulled her nurse to the side. Fortunately, hiding their mouths with cupped hands did nothing to prevent her from easily eavesdropping on the whole conversation.

Needless to say, she just felt like—bursting into tears. She was usually a very angry person, however fury was very far off from what she felt at the moment. She felt crippled. She felt miserable. She felt as if she hadn't showered in ten years, and had worn these clothes for exactly that amount of time while crying and sweating. She felt damp and dirty. She wanted to go home.

Actually, she could not even remember the last time she had cried. But here the foreign impulse was—burning the back of her eyeballs to just be let out and released like a volcanic river.

As if her life could get any worse at this point. Cursing lightly to herself, Gwen pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes and held them there, if anything to keep the tears back. How could it get any worse? Everything she held dear to her were literally destroying either each other or themselves all at once—and it felt absolutely horrible. It was like a nightmare become reality—no, it was a nightmare become reality. The only thing she could depend on right now was Ashen, and he was lying to her.

She felt a stab of a thousand needles or six at her lower leg, but she hastily ignored the pain and managed to wrestle free of the strange apparatus keeping her leg in the air. Giving a wild grab for the wooden crutches prescribed to her that had been lying by the nearby wall, she managed to hobble towards the room where her now late stepmother lay.

She was close. In a way that's not really.

Unfortunately, she didn't even get an inch past her door before her leg seemed to give out completely. Unable to support herself, she collapsed, and the dam broke loose.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

This was absolutely horrifying. There was no other way to explain how this entire situation was for her, and must be for Gwen. It was unfathomable what had occurred in the past few hours—several hours that could potentially traumatize a teenager for life. The amount of unluckiness Gwen and Ashen had both endured was—impossible.

Sakura hadn't dared to move from her seat the entire time, her eyes were large and remained focused on the door down the hallway as if Gwen, Ashen and their mother would burst through the doors and yell, "Surprise!"

However, after three or four hours of waiting, it was beyond obvious that kind of merry sunshine was not going to happen. Seated beside Sakura, was Syoaran, giving her another surreptitious look out of—almost admiration. He was genuinely impressed by Sakura's incessant worrying, although all Gwen had ever done to the girl was antagonize and mentally torment her. Yet she was willing to sit down for five hours to be her support.

Just then a figure in that same hall fell limply out the door, a wooden support smacking against the wall. Abruptly jumping to her feet, Sakura bolted down the hall to the side of the figure who had just fallen.

"Gwen!" Following suit, the two trackstars managed to get there before any nurses did. "What are you doing? You're not supposed to be up!"

"My ankle—" gasped Gwen, curling into a fetus position to block out any external factors to endure the pain on her own. She gripped her leg so hard and dug her nail into her skin to subside the pain.

"Don't do that," Sakura whispered, tears springing into her eyes. "It'll just get worse. Syoaran, get a doctor. We need to—"

"No!" Gwen protested, her upper body struggling. "I want to see Ashen. I have to. He's with his mother, and I'll have to go to him—he would never leave her."

She's far more important to him than I am.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

After piously bidding his farewells, Ashen rose from one of the stools and let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "I need to check up on Gwen." With that, he turned and left the door, when he saw Gwen writhing on the floor, screaming as a bunch of people in white suits tried to get her under control. One of them was holding onto a horrifyingly long needle.

"Stop! Keep that away from her!" Ashen shouted, smacking the needle aside as he almost tackled the doctor to get to Gwen. He cradled her head protectively in his chest and glared accusingly at those around him. "What in God's name do you think you're doing to my sister?"

"She refuses to go back to her room." Dr. Daniels replied steadily. "We really must calm her down for surgery preparations."

"What operation?" Gwen asked, her wide eyes of astronomical proportions.

"Don't you dare think of worrying about it," Ashen whispered, wiping a stray tear that had escaped Gwen's discipline. "Goodness, Gwen. I haven't seen you cry in ages."

"I've never seen you cry ever." Gwen countered, her hand still gripping his shirt as she was set back down on the bed. After analyzing her leg and reprimanding her like there were no tomorrow, the two siblings were finally alone.

"Why does it matter, anyway? The part of my life that needs my leg most is history anyway." Gwen snapped bitterly. "Why not just kill me now and save the drama and money for someone with a purpose?"

Ashen felt like bursting into tears. Ever since she was young his sister had built everything about her to be independent and strong. She was so proud, and he was proud of her. But—once in a while, everyone needs something to lean on. Her father's pressure had made her excessively bitter, and he seemed to be the only person to see her as someone who was truly sweet. She didn't deserve this.

Any of this.

Sliding behind her, he lay her head in his lap in place of a pillow. Stroking her hair gently, he whispered lines of poetry and she looked up at him inquisitively. "What are you doing?"

"Just think of the good things." He whispered. "Hurry up and get better. I won't forgive you if you and mom both abandon me."

Gwen was quiet for a moment.

"If me and 'mom?'" Gwen said, trying to sit up when Ashen placed both hands on her shoulders to keep her down and calm. "What do you mean? She couldn't be…"

"Yeah." The word cut through strong and fast, and for the first time since as far as she could remember, she saw tears fall down his pale face. There was no sobbing, no sniffling.

Just the tears.