Chapter Four
The Making of a Fool

"She's… she's going to die?"

The yellow creature nodded. "Well, all humans die, of course. But Sakura is slated to go before her time. It's quite unprecedented, actually."

Syaoran couldn't understand why he was getting so upset. After all, he was dead and it wasn't all that bad. But then again, Syaoran didn't have any family or friends who loved him. It didn't take much to understand that many people would sorely miss Sakura if she happened to die unexpectedly. Not to mention Sakura herself who would never get a chance to grow up and live a full, happy life. There was always a chance that she would end up a ghost like Syaoran, but the thought of such a cheerful, energetic girl becoming something like him was even more distressing.

"What's going to happen to her?" Syaoran asked, gazing at Sakura's back with a new sense of pity and regret. She had no idea that, right at this moment, two souls were discussing her immanent and tragic death. "How will she die?"

The creature grinned sheepishly and put a paw behind his head. "Actually, we're not exactly sure."

"You don't know?" Syaoran asked, extremely surprised. He crossed his arms and glared at the creature. "Some guardian you are."

"Hey, do you think being a guardian comes with an instruction manual!" Keroberos yelled, his cute little face contorted into an angry snarl. "This is a first-time situation. How am I supposed to deal with something that's never been done before?"

"So all you can do is watch?" Syaoran asked, ignoring the creature's question.

"Yep," the plushy replied. "Observe and wait. Her death will come from a source we can't detect right now, but maybe we can prevent it with some careful and tedious observation."

A tiny flare of hope erupted in Syaoran's aura. "You mean you can stop it from happening?"

"Well, maybe," the creature said. "As I said, her death is not planned and therefore not written in stone… yet. There is a slim chance it could be prevented with some sheer, dumb luck."

"I'll watch her," Syaoran said, speaking as if he were taking on a grave responsibility. "I'll make sure nothing happens to her."

The creature snorted with laughter. "And how are you going to do that? You couldn't keep a fly from hitting a windshield. But hey, if you want to watch her, you'll be doing half my job for me. If anything happens out of the ordinary, just call for me, okay?"

Before Syaoran even had a chance to reply, the creature disappeared in a flash of gold light.

"Well, I did my part. Now it's your turn, Yue."

"And when did I agree to participate? This is your plan Keroberos, and it's not even a good one at that. It's dangerous and there's no way of telling if it would work at all. We're asking this boy to deal with things he couldn't even begin to comprehend."

"Can't you be optimistic for once? I've got it all under control."

"The very fact that you came to me with this foolish scheme is proof that absolutely nothing is in your control."

"Yue, I'm offended! After all this time of a solid partnership, you won't trust me to come up with the plan that will work best? Just follow through with your end and I'm sure everything will work out."

"For the girl, you mean. What about Syaoran's fate? How does this all end for him?"

"The kid's already dead! What could he possibly have to lose?"

"There's always something to lose. Even for the one who has nothing."

"You're being selfish by defending the kid, Yue. Can you imagine the chaos Sakura's premature death'll cause? If this isn't fixed, we could have an even bigger problem on our hands. Don't look at me like that! It's not as if I wanted this to happen. I don't enjoy being the bad guy any more than you do, but we can't do anything about it. Just help me out here, Yue. Please?"

"Very well. I will carry out my end. Just let it be on record that I never approved."

"Duly noted."

"You're up early kaijuu," the brother commented as Sakura sleepily made her way down the staircase and into the kitchen. "Do you have cleaning duty at school this morning?"

Sakura shook her head, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "My alarm went off early for some reason." She pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat down.

Syaoran felt quite pleased with himself. With all that panicked running around Sakura did every morning, she could easily run in front of a bus or something. But by setting her alarm clock back fifteen minutes, she had a better chance of getting out the door safely on time.

"Well, now you can eat breakfast like a normal person," the brother said, scooping some eggs onto her plate. "I think this is the first time I've ever dirtied your plate on a weekday morning."

Sakura only nodded groggily. She looked down at the food on her plate as if she didn't know what to do with it.

"Heh, but I think you're no good without that morning dash to warm your blood," the brother said, poking her roughly on the shoulder. He got no reaction.

Syaoran groaned. He hadn't thought of that. Sakura's wild morning ritual was what woke her up. Without it she was a zombie— a zombie that was even more prone to accidents than a panicked, but awake, Sakura. He could only watch helplessly as she stumbled around the house, getting ready slowly and awkwardly.

"I'm off!" the brother shouted up the stairs, followed by the sound of the door slamming.

"Hoe?" Sakura mumbled, confused. She grabbed her alarm clock from her bedside table. She stared at it in disbelief.

"HOE! I'm late!" she screamed, breaking out of her trance.

Syaoran was actually relieved to see her run around in a panic, despite the hard work he had done to prevent it. The mad dash seemed to energize her resolve and made her think clearly.

Syaoran watched her fade into the distance, feeling a bit useless and unneeded, but relieved nonetheless.

"It's hopeless, Yue," Syaoran said miserably that night on the roof. A sliver of the moon was high in the sky. "Every time I try to do something to help, I just end up messing things up even more."

"Who said you needed to help? It's her problem, not yours. You don't need to get involved."

"But I'm the only one who knows," Syaoran said, getting up and pacing restlessly back and forth. "I can't just sit back and watch her die. It just seems so… wrong. She isn't the kind of person who should die suddenly."

"There's nothing you can do, Syaoran," Yue said. "If she is going to die, then she will die – no matter what you do or her."

"No!" Syaoran said, balling his hands into fists. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it held so much passion that it sounded like a shout. "Her death is not written in stone. There has to be something…"

Yue eyed Syaoran grimly and suppressed a sigh of regret and frustration. The conversation was going much too well. Was this really the boy's fate? It seemed so cruel.

"There is a way," Yue said softly, almost as if he hoped Syaoran wouldn't hear him.

"There's a way? What do you mean?" Syaoran said.

"You must pierce the veil," Yue said. He turned his head and spoke into the shingles. "No, not just pierce it… You must rip the veil to shreds."

Syaoran sat down heavily. "But you said piercing the veil will make me vengeful and angry. I don't want that to happen."

Yue smiled faintly, despite himself. "Only the spirits who are vengeful and angry to begin with will be that way when they pierce the veil. It's the motivation behind the action that counts. Usually the motivation is anger and hate."

Syaoran looked up to Yue. "So you can teach me how to pierce the veil?"

Yue shook his head. "It's not something that can be learned. It happens on accident when the will is strong enough and sufficient motivation is present. In any case, we're not really talking about piercing the veil at all. I'm suggesting something a bit more… extreme."

"I don't understand," Syaoran said. His frustration was mounting.

"Have you ever noticed the mansion on top of that hill?" Yue asked, gesturing into the distance.

Syaoran followed Yue's gaze out into the night. There, perched on top of a hill several miles in the distance, stood the impressive sight of an old Edo-style home. Lights were on in some of the windows, but it still managed to look abandoned and ominous.

"I see it," Syaoran said. "But what does an old house have to do with anything?"

It took Yue a few moments to answer. "A powerful magician lives in that house. Rumor has it that he has been experimenting with a new type of magic that can make a ghost corporeal. In other words, he can bring a disembodied soul back into the physical world. It would make you as close to a Living as you could possibly get."

"You mean people could see me? Hear me?" Syaoran asked, his aura wavering uncertainly.

Yue nodded slowly. "You would be able to manipulate objects much more efficiently then you can now."

Syaoran stood up, resolution and gravity pulsing in his aura. "I'd be able to protect her. I could watch out for her and prevent her death. I have to do this, Yue. I have to go see the magician."

With that, he turned to jump off the roof and head toward the old house in the distance.

"Wait, Syaoran. Listen to me," Yue said, swiftly moving to block Syaoran's path, his wings flared. He wore the same stoic expression as always, but his eyes carried a desperate, pleading quality Syaoran had never seen before. "You think you have some burden, some tremendous obligation to right a cosmic mistake, but the reality is that you are the last being in the universe who should have to deal with this. This situation doesn't concern you. It's not too late to forget what you heard and save yourself a lot of pain and heartache."

"What are you talking about?" Syaroan said, his aura flashing dangerously.

"Nothing comes without sacrifice. You will pay a great price to gain what you seek."

Syaoran paused, glaring at Yue. "Sacrifice? I have nothing to give."

"You would be surprised Syaoran," Yue said grimly. "The universe isn't picky. Anything and everything you have – even things you don't even know you possess – will be sufficient to make an equal trade."

Syaoran turned his head to look at the roof. He couldn't stand that horrible look in Yue's eyes. "I can't just forget. I can't let her die and then pretend like I did all I could. I've made up my mind, Yue. Get out of my way."

After a beat of reluctant hesitation, Yue obediently stepped out of Syaoran's path. "Do what you will."

Syaoran nodded firmly, as if to confirm the decision he had made with himself, and then made his way onto the lawn below. It was strange to look at the street from ground level, since it had been decades from the time when he had been on the lawn (not to mention outside the house.) The journey all the way to the mansion on the hill was a daunting task in itself, but Syaoran simply got his bearings and started into the distance.

Yue watched him go, a heavy feeling of regret weighing on his being.

"You tried to stop him," Keroberos said, appearing beside Yue in a flash of gold light. "That was noble of you."

Yue turned his back on Syaoran's retreating figure. "He wouldn't be going anywhere if I hadn't told him about the magician in the first place. The burden of his downfall still lies with me alone."

"Aw, Yue, don't be so hard on yourself," the little yellow creature said, trying to sound comforting. "The kid's just stubborn. You warned him of the consequences and so will the magician. In the end, the final decision is on his head."

Yue shook his head, his eyes closed. "He's ignorant when it comes to the concept of sacrifice and consequence. He won't have any idea what he has given up until the time comes to let it all go."

"Yue, you really are too serious for your own good. The kid has long been dead and forgotten. He has nothing to lose," the little creature disappeared in the same flash of gold light in which he had arrived.

Yue could still see Syaoran's rapidly retreating aura is the distance.

"Good luck Syaoran. I can only hope that I'm wrong about all this."

It wasn't hard for Syaoran to find the mansion. It was radiating a strong magical energy from miles away. The pull was so powerful that even if Syaoran hadn't intended to go to the house, he probably would have ended up there anyway. It was kind of like a ghost magnet.

Up close, the house was even more forbidding than it was at a distance. A tall, heavy-looking iron gate stood in front of the property, making the mansion seem unwelcoming and cold. However, despite the ominous exterior, Syaoran hardly hesitated to pass through the bars and into the house itself.

The first thing he noticed was that it was very dark inside. A long hallway stretched out before him, lit only with small candles spaced far apart along the wall. It was down the hallway that Syaoran felt the strongest energy, so he continued in that direction, even though every remaining instinct he had from when he was alive told him to retreat.

Eventually Syaoran came to a set of double doors at the end of the hallway. He could feel the source of the powerful magical energy was strongest on the other side of the doors. It was here Syaoran paused. He knew that once he passed through the door there was no way he could back out and not feel like a failure. The ghost stood in front of the doors for some time before finally gathering the courage to step through into the other side.

It was a large room with hardwood floors and a huge window taking up nearly the entire north wall. The room was almost empty except for a single red armchair that was turned toward a roaring fireplace on the east wall. From his vantage point, Syaoran couldn't see if anyone was sitting in the chair, but the energy was most potent at that spot. The ghost approached with caution.

"Hello there," a deep, but friendly male voice said from the direction of the chair. "Well, don't hesitate. Come closer, my friend."

Syaoran's first instinct was to look around the room for who the voice was addressing. However, there was no one else in the room. It took several minutes before it finally dawned on Syaoran that the voice was addressing him.

"Yes, that's right. I'm talking to you," the voice beckoned. "I understand. It's been a long time since you've been addressed directly."

Curious and surprised, Syaoran approached the chair. As he did, the person sitting in it slowly came into view.

Syaoran had expected to see a grizzled old man, but he was quite astonished to find that the magician was only in his early thirties. He had iridescent, long black hair that was tied up in a loose, untidy ponytail. Thin-rimmed glasses were placed over his soft brown eyes and he was wearing several layers of heavy-looking, intricately embroidered robes. When Syaoran wandered into his line of sight, the man smiled softly and looked directly at the ghost. His friendly, lighthearted gaze distressed Syaoran much less than it should have.

"Well now, I don't believe we've met," the magician said, putting down the journal he was writing in. "I suppose this house still has a few surprises. I thought I already had the pleasure of meeting all the spirits who inhabit this home."

It was a few moments before Syaoran processed the man's words and composed his own. He simply wasn't used to talking to Living directly. Responding on cue was extremely difficult.

"I don't inhabit this house," Syaoran said, self-conscious of his own words. His voice didn't echo off the walls like the man's did. "I came from a different place."

"Ah, I see," the man said, nodding deeply. "To what do I owe the pleasure then?"

"You're the magician, right?" Syaoran asked, looking the man over. He was drastically different from what Syaoran had imagined a sorcerer should look like.

"Yes, I am sometimes known as The Magician," the man said, smiling sardonically. "But I go by Clow Reed most of the time. As long as we are getting to know each other, do you have a name? I should call you something."

It took Syaoran a moment to remember. "Yue calls me Syaoran."

"Syaoran it is then," Clow said, smiling that strange smile that showed mostly in his eyes. "Certainly there's a reason why you came all this way, Syaoran. Unless you're just stopping by?"

"Yue said that you can help me pierce the veil," Syaoran said, eyeing the odd man more every second. "He said you have magic that will make me like a Living."

Clow Reed nodded without hesitation, putting a hand on his chin. "That's right. It's a new technique that can focus a spirit's energy to a very specific point in space, allowing the energy to take form and become solid. It's only in the experimental stage, but I've had great success with test subjects in the past."

Syaoran could care less about the specifics. "I want to become a test subject."

Clow studied Syaoran closely, still smiling. "I'm sure any ghost would, but I don't think you understand the risk involved. You see, every spirit – embodied or disembodied – has a certain amount of energy stored inside. When an embodied spirit's energy runs out, that is when the body dies and the spirit is released into the afterlife until its energy is restored. However, when one dies young or unexpectedly, his energy is not fully depleted, thus he is unable to pass on until the excess energy is used up. This process can sometimes take centuries.

"Now here's where I come in. My technique takes all that excess energy and focuses it down to a point in space, making the subject solid and tangible for a short amount of time. However, you must understand that once the energy is focused, it cannot be scattered again. And when the energy is depleted, it cannot be replenished."

Clow leaned forward off his chair toward Syaoran, still smiling softly.

"In other words Syaoran, my magic would first restore you, but then it would eventually bring about your systematic destruction," Clow said with that horribly out-of-place soft smile playing on his lips. It was like he was trying to be completely serious, but couldn't keep a straight face. "I would be happy to perform the procedure for you, but I can't morally do so until you fully realize what it would mean."

Syaoran furrowed his brow in confusion. The concept was hard to grasp. "How can I get deader than I already am? How can there be more than one level of death?"

"Once your energy is spent on this plane of existence, you – your spirit - will return to the cosmic energy source it came from," Clow explained patiently. "At that point, you will lose your identity and become one with the Void once again. Your energy with no longer be yours – it will belong to the Void. This is what you must consider before you undergo such an irreversible procedure."

"But… this will eventually happen to me anyway, right?" Syaroan said.

"This is true," Clow responded. "Procedure or not, your energy would exhaust itself in due course and send you back to the void."

"Then what does it matter?" Syaoran said. "Either I go now or I go later. Why not go now?"

"You have to ask yourself if it's worth it," Clow said seriously, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Syaoran glared at the man, his aura flaring. "I wouldn't be doing this in the first place if it wasn't worth it. I've made a promise and I can't keep it if I'm like this."

"Tell me more about this promise," Clow said. It was very hard to tell, but there was a subtle change in his expression that was hard to read. Was it surprise?

Syaoran felt like the man was judging him in some offhanded way. It made Syaoran irritable. "I promised a plush toy that I would protect this girl–"

"Ah, say no more. There's a girl involved," Clow said, his eyes flashing knowingly.

Syaoran paused, confused and wary. "Why does that matter?"

The man's eyes flashed even more intensely, as if he were reading a mystery novel that had just started to get good. "Never mind. It seems I was mistaken."

Syaoran was about to make him elaborate, but the magician stood up and tossed his journal dramatically into the fire. Then he began to walk away.

"Hey wait!" Syaoran said, turning around and fuming. "Where are you going?"

"To gather a few things," Clow said, speaking to the wall in front of him. "The spell you have requested is very complicated. Please be patient while I prepare."

Syaoran glared and crossed his arms tightly. Living were so weird.

"Ah, Madoushi. I didn't know you had arrived."

"Don't be coy, Magician," the frowning woman in flowing robes said, her gaze narrowed and annoyed. "We both know that's a lie."

"Very well," Clow replied, turning his back on her. "I will be careful to disregard all pleasantries concerning you in the future."

"Another lie."

"You've come to watch the procedure," Clow said. "Am I right?"

"Perceptive as always," the woman said, sighing exasperatedly. "I see an eruption of sadness in this ghost's future. I was surprised to find that you decided to go through with such a fruitless endeavor. In the end, he will gain nothing but pain and misery."

"I've never been averse to causing pain and misery," Clow said. "You, of all people, should know that."

"Yes, well I've never known you to do so without a greater goal in mind," the woman said, gathering her arms over her chest. "What horribly twisted facet of this event am I missing?"

"Let's just say that… It'll be fun while it lasts."

Clow wandered back into the room about fifteen minutes later.

"Are you ready, Syaoran?" he asked, looking as serious as his expression would let him. "I don't ask lightly. Once I begin, the process can't be paused or reversed."

Syaoran simply couldn't understand why everyone was being so wary. Why did everyone care about what he did with himself? They acted as if what he did mattered in the greater scheme of things. He was dead and his house had been taking over by Living. He had nothing to lose.

"I was ready the moment Yue told me about you," Syaoran said seriously.

"Then let's begin," Clow said.

The man made no discernible gestures or sounds, but suddenly an intricate, glowing circle appeared and began to revolve slowly around Syaoran. There was something familiar about this circle…

"This is going to be quite unpleasant," Clow said gravely. "Please bear with me."

As soon as Clow had finished his sentence, a tremendous weight fell on Syaoran's head and seeped into his spirit. This was a new sensation because nothing ever had weight or depth to Syaoran. The weight forced him to the ground on his hands and knees. Hands and knees… that meant he was forming a body. He watched with fascination as his limbs appeared and took shape, his spirit swirling around inside like colored water in a plastic bag. He was surprised to find that he could reach out with a hand and touch the other. His body was becoming solid and real…

But he felt constricted and trapped by the changes. It was like being locked in a tiny room with very little air. He felt as if he were being stretched thin and pulled in a thousand different directions all at once. And the pressure just kept building… Something had to give…

Suddenly, everything constricted. Every fiber of his being bunched up into a single point in space, gathered momentum, and then propelled him at an inconceivable speed – almost as if weren't even moving – back into the circle. It was a hard sensation for any solid object to understand – the feeling of passing through every plane of existence and picking up pieces of life in each one. It didn't hurt – pain wasn't a possible sensation for a ghost – but it was certainly… unpleasant. Unpleasant and unnerving. And it never seemed to end…

Then the pressure returned with a vengeance, smashing Syaoran into the ground. Through the unbelievable sensation of pressure, Syaoran felt the hard surface of the floor beneath him. This was also a new feeling, as walls and floors had never been solid for him in the waking world.

When would it end? Was this really even worth it?

The white noise drone suddenly became deafening. The air had become gel-like and the bubble of pressure began to collapse in on him, clogging up his ears and pressing against his eyes. He began to feel as if were being crushed between the cold steel sides of a trash compactor. If this kept up, he would be smashed so thin that he wouldn't exist...

And suddenly, amidst all the pressure and static noise, Syaoran's mind went blank.

"Wake up, Syaoran."

Syaoran opened his eyes — another completely new sensation — and looked up to see Clow's beaming face hovering over him. Syaoran sat up, using instinct alone to operate his solid body.

"What happened? How come there's a blank spot in my memory? Did something go wrong?" Syaoran asked, almost panicked.

"No, nothing like that," Clow said, clapping a hand down on Syaoran's shoulder. Syaoran jumped at the sudden pressure. "The procedure was a complete success. The shock was too much for your spirit, so you shut down, much in the way a Living goes unconscious in times of extreme stress."

Syaoran ducked out from under the magician's hand, promptly tangled himself up in the bed sheets, and fell heavily to the ground. Syaoran looked around in confusion, not quite sure what had just happened.

Clow extended his hand. "It's going to take some getting used to. It's been a long time since you have been susceptible to the laws of physics, but I'm sure you'll adjust."

Syaoran ignored Clow's hand and got up on his own. He straightened his clothing and caught sight of his hands. He stared at them for several moments, moving his fingers and marveling at the way they responded to his thoughts. He had never seen his hands before.

"It really worked…" Syaoran said quietly.

"Remember that people can see you now, Syaoran," Clow said, a smile dancing in his eyes. "Don't stare at your hands too much. You could make people uncomfortable."

Syaoran reached down and gingerly grabbed the sheets that were on the floor, half expecting them to slip through his grasp. But instead, he was able to grip them and lift them up onto the bed.

"There's a few things you need to know," Clow said as he watched Syaoran go around the room and lift any object that wasn't nailed down. "You don't need to eat, drink, or sleep. In fact, you won't be able to do any of those things, even if you tired. You cannot sustain bodily injury and you still can't feel physical pain. There are a few things I'm forgetting, but you'll discover them as you go."

Clow got up and put his hand on Syaoran's head to get his attention. Syaoran couldn't feel his hand, exactly, but he could sense the pressure.

"Now this part is very important," Clow said, looking directly into Syaoran's eyes. "Your energy level was fairly high, but it will only give you thirty days at the most. The full moon seems to slow the process of deconstruction, but once it wanes, you will begin to slip back into the void. Do you understand, Syaoran? You have until the new moon to take care of your business. After that, it's all over."

Syaoran nodded solemnly. The concept of time was still foreign to him, but he figured he'd catch on eventually. "I understand. Until the new moon."

The magician smiled softy, a knowing twinkle in his eye. "You have no idea what that really means, do you? But you will. It's hard not to count the days as you live them. The new moon will come faster than you think."

The man walked a few steps, then turned around and gestured slightly to Syaoran. "Come with me. I have something to show you."

Curious and just a bit wary, Syaoran followed the magician into the next room. It was much smaller and held only a baby grand piano, a bookshelf, and a tall floor-length mirror with intricately carved mahogany wood around the border. Clow was standing next to it, his eyes dancing mysteriously.

"Step up here Syaoran," he said, gesturing to the mirror. "Have a look."

After a moment's hesitation, Syaoran walked up to the mirror and gazed into it, not sure what he was supposed to be seeing.

A boy with untidy, sandy-brown hair and intense amber eyes stared back at Syaoran. The boy was wearing a light blue blazer, a tie, and black pants. Syaoran narrowed his gaze, but the boy continued to stare emotionlessly.

"What is this?" Syaoran asked, gesturing to the boy. He was taken by surprise when the boy copied his every move. Realization finally dawned on him. It was Syaoran's reflection. He'd never had a reflection…

"You've never seen an image of yourself, have you?" Clow asked, his expression soft and soothing. "It's not surprising. Not many ghosts know what they look like. I thought you'd enjoy the experience."

Syaoran just found it disturbing and knowing what he looked like just made him feel more self-conscious than ever.

"What am I wearing?" Syaoran asked, lifting the material gingerly off his skin. Now that he realized he was wearing something, it became distracting.

"Funny you should ask," Clow said, his eyes flashing mischievously. He began to speak very fast. "I've been very busy while you were recovering. That's the uniform for Tomoeda High School. I took the liberty of enrolling you in the school under the name of Syaoran Reed and, incidentally, you'll be late for your first day if you don't leave right this instant."

With that, Clow grabbed Syaoran's collar and steered him down the long hallway and out onto the front doorstep in the sunshine. This all happened faster than Syaoran could get an intelligible word in.

"Oh, and I'm afraid you're on your own from this point on," Clow said, stepping back into the shade of the house and closing the large door halfway. "While the mention of my surname won't raise any suspicions, you will most certainly become talk of the town if you are heard calling this place home."

Clow lowered his voice and his gaze. "They say a magician lives in this house, you know," His expression changed abruptly, his eyes dancing with suppressed mirth once again. "I wish you only the best Syaoran. Make sure to live your brief life to the fullest. I'm sure I'll be making it harder on you for the interim, but you'll understand eventually."

Seconds later, Syaoran was staring at the shiny wood surface of Clow's front door. The loud click of a lock snapping into place told Syaoran that he was indeed no longer welcome. Drowning in every unpleasant emotions known to man, Syaoran carefully treaded down the front steps and headed toward the sound of school bells in the distance.

"That was cruel," Madoushi said, glaring.

"It seems that way, doesn't it?" Clow said, smiling mischievously.