Chapter Fourteen
Uncertain to Be Sure

Syaoran had to slow down after about five minutes of running flat out toward the school. His insides were burning and there was an uncomfortable knot in his side. Breathing in the freezing winter air wasn't helping, either. The back of this throat was raw.

This body is a curse! Syaoran thought to himself. He would've yelled it out loud, but he was too occupied with panting for breath with his hands on his knees.

He'd been in the body for less than twelve hours and already he hated everything about it. He had suddenly become so frail and weak that a few minutes of running had nearly worn him out. Besides that, now he needed sleep and food, not to mention shelter. Where was a homeless, familyless, penniless, former ethereal spirit supposed to find these things?

With a low grumble in the back of his throat, he knew he'd have to go back to Clow. He was the only person on Earth who knew about his predicament. No one else could help him, especially now that he was cut off from any advice from Yue—

The thought of Yue stopped Syaoran dead in his tracks. It was only then, after the panic and confusion had loosened it's grip, that he remembered his dream from the night before. The dream where Yue's soothing, apathetic voice lulled Xiao Lang Li out of existence.

But was it really just a dream? No, it couldn't be; it didn't feel like one— it felt more like the description of deja vu. Besides, Xiao Lang Li had definitely existed once, in Syaoran's house no less. How and why would he have the memories of a person who was unrelated to him, especially memories of that person's death? It only made sense that...

Syaoran was Xiao Lang Li. Or at least he used to be. A strange sensation rippled over his body, a sensation that could only be described as an epiphany.

And if he had been Xiao Lang, that meant that...

"Yue killed me," Syaoran said softly to the snowflakes. He needed to say it aloud; he needed to feel the weight of the words and let the meaning pass through the synapses in his brain.

Xiao Lan— No, I would've lived through that illness, Syaoran thought, starting to walk forward again. He needed to move. They said I'd live! Why did he... why did he...

I had a mother... he thought, trudging forward. I had a life!

He stopped and clenched his fists. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to punch someone. But instead of doing anything of the sort, he sank into a bench and sat there.

"Why did he take it all away from me?" Syaoran asked no one.

Anger pent up inside him until it pushed against his jaw and jammed his fingers into his palms.

"Why am I here?" Syaoran asked through gritted teeth.

"Reed-kun?"

Syaoran opened his eyes to see Sakura standing a few feet off, her emerald eyes crinkled with concern. The early morning sunlight danced off her hair and Syaoran suddenly noticed how bright and sunny that day was shaping up to be.

He instantly got up from the bench, feeling almost cornered. "What are you doing here? You'll be late."

She made a face. "You didn't meet me in front of my house. I guess I got a little worried..."

Syaoran rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself." He wanted to knock some sense into her. He'd come to help her. The last thing he needed was for her to focus her energy on him. It was counterproductive.

Sakura shrugged. "But I'm kind of glad I did come looking for you. Something is bothering you, isn't it?"

"It's nothing, really," And he meant it. When she was around, his own problems just didn't seem so bad anymore. She really was the only thing that mattered.

'Why am I here?' He'd just kind of answered his own question. Or rather, Sakura had answered it with her presence. He was here for her, regardless of whatever happened before.

"Well, you know," she said, flashing a smile that seemed to light up the sky. "If you need me, I'll be around."

And that's all I ask of you, Syaoran thought, too embarrassed to say it out loud. Just stay around.

Sakura glanced at her watch and gasped a little. "We're going to be so late!" She raced forward and grabbed Syaoran's hand. "But we can make it if we run!"

She pulled on his hand and urged him into a run. She was saying something, but all Syaoran could focus on was the feeling of Sakura's hand on his and the heat that was rising into his face.

...So maybe some things about this body weren't all that bad.

"Where is she this time?" Syaoran asked Tomoyo. Sakura was missing from the lunch group again. He hoped she was somewhere inside where it was warm, since he was practically frozen stiff.

"You mean Sakura-chan?" Tomoyo asked, the shadow of a grin on her face. She put her hand to her chin and thought for a moment. "Oh, right. She went to meet Mizuki-sensei in the teacher's lounge."

"She's where?" Syaoran said, feeling the heat drain from his face. Sakura was putting herself into grave danger every time she merely approached that woman. He headed for the teacher lounge, even though he wasn't exactly sure where it was. Had he not been in this spiritually stunted body, he could've followed Mizuki-sensei's presence, but his current state made that impossible.

After several panicked minutes of running around the school, Syaoran found the teacher's lounge on the first floor, across the hall from his classroom. Without a moment's hesitation, he threw open the door and stomped inside. Sakura and Mizuki-sensei were on a couch against the wall, hunched over something in Sakura's hands.

"And then you take the second needle and thread that loop on—" Mizuki-sensei was saying.

"Reed-kun!" Sakura yelled in surprise. Syaoran saw a flash of green before Sakura quickly tucked something behind her back. "What are you doing here?"

He glared at Mizuki-sensei as she straightened up and smiled at Syaoran warmly. "Hello Reed-san. What can I do for you?"

"I..." Syaoran stammered, trying to think fast. "I just wanted to make sure that there would be tutoring after school today."

He resisted the urge to grimace. He sounded stupid even to himself.

"Of course, Reed-san," Mizuki-sensei said, responding as if it was the most brilliant thing she'd ever heard. "We have it every day after school."

There was a moment of awkward silence as Syaoran glared at Mizuki-sensei, Mizuki-sensei smiled warmly, and Sakura fiddled with her hands behind her back.

"Well, thank you for everything Mizuki-sensei!" Sakura said, stuffing whatever was in her hands into a small Twin Bells shopping bag. "You were a huge help. I think I can do the rest on my own."

"You're welcome, Sakura-san," Mizuki-sensei said. "Anytime."

Sakura bowed deeply, then turned to leave the room. She gave Syaoran a wavering smile as she passed.

"See you in class," she said quietly, holding the bag close to her.

"Yeah," Syaoran said. The door shut as she left.

Suddenly he was alone with Chaos.

"I'm warning you—" Syaoran began, but Mizuki-sensei held up a hand to cut him off.

"I don't want to hurt her, Reed-san," She said. Her eyes were sad and grief-stricken. "In fact, I hope you can keep her safe. Don't let anything happen to her."

He stared at her with his mouth slightly open, expecting some kind of dirty trick. This was the last thing he ever expected to come out of this woman's mouth.

"Sakura-san is... much too precious to be lost to the world," Mizuki-sensei said, getting up and gracefully moving toward the window. It overlooked the tree where Sakura's group ate lunch. "Don't you feel the same way?"

Syaoran hesitated for just a moment before answering. "Of course I do. That's why I'm here. She means... everything."

He paused for a moment on the thought before shaking it out of his head. "But why do you care? It's your job to settle the balance."

The woman shook her head. "I don't know why I care. I'm certainly not supposed to care. But just the mere thought of something happening to her is... very painful."

Syaoran shook his head angrily. "That doesn't make sense. Ruby Moon can't wait to—"

"I'm not Ruby Moon," Mizuki-sensei said. She put a hand to her temple. "I'm only a branch of her consciousness. She's in my head giving me orders and telling me what to say, but I only follow through because I have no choice. If it were up to me, I'd leave Sakura-san alone. But I can't. That's why you can't let anything happen to her."

"That still makes you my enemy," Syaoran said.

Mizuki-sensei nodded. "But I had to tell you... Please don't let her die."

"It won't happen," Syaoran said, feeling the pit of his stomach drop out. "Whatever it takes, I won't let it happen. I swear it."

"Do you really understand what 'whatever it takes' means, Syaoran?" the woman asked. Her eyes were so sad.

"I don't care," Syaoran said firmly, emphasizing every word. "If it saves her, that's all that matters."

The woman smiled sadly. "I can see that you really are willing. But it won't be easy."

"I never expected it to be easy," Syaoran said.

"But did you expect it to be the hardest thing you've ever done in your entire existence?" Mizuki-sensei said. It was much of a question, more like a statement.

Before Syaoran could answer, the woman's expression changed abruptly and she plastered the same warm smile back on her lips. Her eyes remained incredibly sad, though.

"Well, Reed-san. Recess is almost over," she said, now all business. The pleading tone was gone from her voice. "You should head back to class."

Without another word, Syaoran left the room and closed the door tightly behind him, as if locking up some dangerous creature.

Syaoran headed right for Sakura's lunch spot, his resolve to keep Sakura safe never stronger. He watched her and Mizuki-sensei extra close, looking for anything, anything out of the ordinary.

The day, however, passed normally. When school was let out for the day, Mizuki-sensei swept into the room as usual, carrying another platter of treats for Sakura. Almost as a sign of defiance, Syaoran took a few pastries for himself and ate one right there in front of the teacher. He couldn't help but notice her eyes widen slightly as he swallowed is food. Even Sakura seemed a bit shocked.

Syaoran made his way back to his seat and sat heavily. He glared at Mizuki-sensei the entire time she stood up there.

"Well, that's about it for today," Mizuki-sensei said some time later. "You are free to go. See you tomorrow."

She quickly left the room, leaving Sakura and Syaoran alone together.

"I'll... walk you home, okay?" Syaoran said, helping to gather some of her books. He didn't want her to leave his sight, even for a second.

"Yeah, okay," Sakura said, smiling and taking Syaoran's hand in hers.

Touya glared out the window as Sakura waved goodbye to a scrawny little brown-haired brat. Everything about the kid rubbed Touya the wrong way, from his slightly untidy school uniform to the way he stared at Sakura as if his gaze was glued there. Touya grumbled audibly as his sister and the brat had a short conversation which delayed Sakura's return into the house.

"What is it, Toya?" Yukito asked, coming over and following Touya's glare out the window. "Ah, I should've known. Sakura-chan has been seeing a lot of that boy lately, hasn't she?"

"I don't like him," Touya said, steam practically rising from his words.

"Of course you don't," Yukito said, a playful smirk breaking on his face. "It's part of your sister-complex."

Touya shook his head and got away from the window. He couldn't stand to look at the kid anymore. "He's going to hurt her, Yuki. I just know it."

No matter what he does, Touya thought darkly. He's going to just end up hurting her.

After Syaoran had dropped Sakura safely off at her own house, he headed — slowly — toward Clow Reed's mansion, still clinging to the last bit of hope that the effects of the full moon would ware off with the sun set. But as the sun set and absolutely nothing happened to him, he knew he'd have no choice but to ask for Clow's help... again. All too soon, Syaoran found himself standing in front of the seemingly abandoned property that Clow called home.

Something about being in debt to a magician made Syaoran uneasy. But he drew a deep breath (thinking distantly how much deep breaths really did help clear his mind), and headed for the front door.

As he reached to ring the doorbell, it glowed briefly before melting into the wall like a boat capsizing into a calm ocean. Glaring angrily, Syaoran reached for the giant door-knocker, but it too sank into the wood before he time to touch it.

Syaoran sighed exasperatedly, thinking how Clow definitely wasn't one for subtlety. "Come on. I have nowhere else to go and it's going to be cold again tonight. I could freeze to death."

The door emitted a golden glow. Clow's sprawling, calligraphic handwriting spelled itself out on the door a character at a time.

You can't die, only suffer. You can only leave this world once your energy is fully depleted. Not by any other means.

It really was a relief to know he couldn't die while in this body, but Clow's stubbornness still grated on Syaoran's nerves.

He felt so stupid talking to a door. Why couldn't Clow just come out and talk to him face-to-face?

"So you want me to suffer?" Syaoran said, the temper in his voice flaring.

Not particularly.

"Then will you just let me stay here for a few days?" Syaoran asked through clenched teeth. "I'll do chores or something. There must be something I can do to earn a room."

No, Syaoran, there is nothing you can do. I told you to stay away from this place. It is no safe haven.

"But—" Syaoran started.

The door itself suddenly melted into the house and Syaoran found himself talking to a brick wall.

His frustration reaching a breaking point, he punched the wall with every ounce of strength he had in him. But that only made things worse as his hand erupted in throbbing pain.

"Ow!" he cried, trying to shake the pain out of his fist. He wanted to kick the wall too, but fought himself to refrain.

After pacing angrily on the porch for a few moments, Syaoran stomped away from the mansion cradling a throbbing hand, an empty stomach, and a severely injured sense of pride.

"Why did you do that?" Madoushi asked, watching Syaoran stomp away. "He needs your help."

Clow shook his head, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "No he doesn't."

Madoushi sighed, drawing her arms over her chest. "In a few days, that boy will know only suffering. Why not let him stay here in relative comfort until then?"

"It's not safe here. They're looking for me and drawing closer all the time," Clow said solemnly. "Besides, he's not completely out of options. It just seems that way."

Now what? Syaoran asked himself, slumped on the bench beside the penguin slide.

Now that the sun had gone down, the air had turned bitterly cold. Already, his lungs were on fire from breathing in the frigid air and he was losing feeling in the tips of his fingers. He rubbed his shoulders, hoping the friction would help a little. It didn't, really.

He wasn't so much afraid of suffering in the cold as he was of going unconscious again. The last thing he wanted to do was relive his final hours as Xiao Lang Li a second time. The very thought sent chills down his spine that had nothing to do with the weather.

Now what? Syaoran asked himself again, pushing the nagging memory of Yue's apathetic voice from his mind.

Keep moving, he thought. He got up and began to wander the park. Walking helped warm him a little, but the cold was still pressing in. An icy gust picked up suddenly, cutting through the fabric of his school uniform like light through a glass window.

Snowflakes began to fall softly to the ground, glowing blue in the light of the moon. Syaoran looked up into the sky to see the just-full moon hanging there in plain sight, almost as if it were mocking him.

"I hate you," Syaoran said bitterly, glaring at the ball of light. He hugged himself against the cold. His stomach grumbled loudly.

Unconsciously, his steps began to slow as inevitable exhaustion crept over him like a dark cloud. He'd have to give into sleep soon.

He stopped in front of the apartment complex he'd been at earlier that morning. Only a few windows were still lit up from the inside. One several stories up would provide a perfect view of the penguin slide...

Without really knowing what he was thinking, he headed into the complex and up several flights of stairs. Way too soon he was standing in front of a door on the fifth floor, his hand poised to knock, but frozen there.

Before he could gather the courage to knock, the door opened on its own and the old man from earlier that morning stood in the doorway.

"Ah," he said, smiling knowingly. "I thought you might come back."

"Sorry about the intrusion," Syaoran said awkwardly, putting a hand behind his head. "But I was hoping you had a spare room that I could borrow for a few nights."

"I don't see why not," the old man said, ushering Syaoran inside with a friendly sweep of his arm.

"I really don't have anything to offer you in return..." Syaoran said, looking around the apartment. It was a small, plain place with minimal accents and decorations.

The old man held up his hands. "You will make your payment in a few days. Until then, feel free to call this place home."

Syaoran shook his head frantically. "No, really. I don't have anything to pay with."

The old man smiled disarmingly. "Relax. I'm not asking for anything in return. Make yourself at home. Would you like something to eat? I always end up making too much."

Syaoran's rumbling stomach answered for him.

The old man's smile widened and he went to the stove. "You could put some bowls out for me, if you'd like. They're in that cabinet there."

"Sure," Syaoran said, getting a couple of bowls out and setting them on the small table next to the kitchen. He found cups and silverware as well. He busied himself with arranging them nicely, savoring the warmth radiating from the kitchen.

The old man brought the pot to the table and set it down on the potholder Syaoran had placed there. "That was good thinking. I'll think we'll get along just fine." He sat down and gestured for Syaoran to take a seat across from him.

"It's stew," he said, ladling some of the stuff into his bowl. "Perfect for a cold night like this."

Syaoran readily agreed as he wolfed down his food. He felt a million times better in a warm house with warm food in his stomach. It was as if his misery was now a million miles away.

"As long as you're staying here, I suppose I should get to know you," the old man said. "And you should know me. Names seem like a good place to start."

"It's Syaoran," Syaoran said, swallowing.

The old man looked expectant, as if waiting for more.

"That's it," Syaoran said shortly. "It's just Syaoran."

"I see," the old man said. "Well, then you can call me Wei."

Syaoran waited patiently to hear the rest of his name.

Wei smiled. "That's it. Just Wei. Fair enough, right?"

Syaoran nodded. "Nice to meet you, Wei-san."

"Nice to meet you, Syaoran," Wei said.

For the rest of the meal the two talked casually, sharing interests and divulging as much of their pasts as was necessary. It turned out that Wei had worked most of his life as a servant of several prominent families in Japan, including the Emperor's family at one point. He was retired now, but admitted to receiving a penchant from a few old clients who thought of him as family. His wife had died some years ago and now he lived alone in the apartment.

"It will be nice to have life in the house again," Wei said, smiling at Syaoran. "Even if only for a time."

Their conversation was not nearly as awkward as Syaoran thought it would be. The banter felt a lot like the conversations Syaoran used to have with Yue: insightful and serious, but an air of companionship in every word.

"Are you finished?" Wei asked a few hours later.

Syaoran nodded. "I'll help you clean up."

Wei stood and help up a hand. "That's not necessary. You have to be up early for school tomorrow and you're exhausted. I can see it in your eyes. I bet you haven't had a good night's sleep in a long time."

Syaoran had to nod. He was right, after all. It had been over half a century now...

"There's a spare bedroom down the hall on your right. You should find everything you need is there," Wei said. "If not, don't hesitate to ask me about it."

Syaoran nodded. "Thank you very much."

Wei waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Think nothing of it."

Syaoran awkwardly headed towards the hallway, feeling strange about leaving a mess behind for Wei to clean up by himself. Before he reached the hallway, however, he paused, suddenly remembering something that Wei had said earlier.

"Wei-san," Syaoran said over the sound of Wei washing dishes.

"It's just Wei, Syaoran," Wei said, smiling over his shoulder. "Nothing more than that."

"Wei..." Syaoran said, testing the name out. Yes. That sounded better. "How did you know I would come back here?"

"Ah..." Wei said, wiping his hands with a dish towel. His back was to Syaoran. "Truth be told, I didn't know for sure, but I thought maybe you might come back."

"You weren't surprised to see me at all though," Syaoran said. "That's a pretty big maybe."

"It's the 'maybes' and the 'mights' that make up our lives," Wei answered, his back to Syaoran. "I find it very hard to believe that there's any such thing as 'certainty', even when concerning our own actions. While people may make their own fate, no one can be absolutely sure which path leads toward the right direction all the time. If 'certainty' really existed, life wouldn't be worth living because everyone would already have all the answers.

"That's why no one should ever say 'That will never happen to me' or 'I will definitely won't let that happen.'"

"Then what should I say?" Syaoran asked quietly.

"'I'll do the best I can,'" Wei said, smiling. "That's all we need to take from this life: the belief that 'I've done my best.' If you believe that with everything in you, then there's no reason to regret those countless moments of uncertainty."

Syaoran felt like his entire existence had been one giant moment of uncertainty, but the prospect that he could never be certain of anything made him uneasy...

Because he was absolutely, completely, one hundred percent positive that Sakura wouldn't die in a few days.

"But right now I am almost certain that..." Wei said, his smile reaching his eyes. "you need some rest. Goodnight, Syaoran. Sleep well."

"Yeah, I will. Thanks," Syaoran said, heading down the hallway. The sounds from the kitchen faded away as he opened the door to the first room on the right.

It wasn't a very large room. There was a bed against the right wall and a dresser catty-corner to the bed. A small wooden desk and chair sat on the right wall across from the dresser. A set of sliding glass doors on the far wall opened up to a bare balcony that overlooked the park. Simple, unappealing green curtains framed the doors and a large area rug covered most of the floor between the bed and the glass doors. Moonlight flooded the room, making everything look blue.

The room was plain, stark, and just barely habitable.

Syaoran couldn't have asked for anything more.

He approached the bed and found a stripped yellow and green night shirt and pants laying there unassumingly. Syaoran eyed them suspiciously.

"The old man went to a lot of trouble for a 'maybe,'" Syaoran mumbled. But he couldn't really sleep in his school uniform, could he? It would get wrinkled. He reluctantly took off his uniform as if he were peeling off an layer of his own skin. He couldn't believe how cold it was without clothing on and quickly changed into the night shirt and pants; which was only the second outfit he'd ever worn in his entire remembered existence. The sleeves were a bit too short, but he wasn't complaining.

As soon as he was changed, the warmth from the wool against his skin made him feel drowsy. He drew the blankets back and crawled into the bed. It squeaked under his weight, but it was a comforting sort of noise that made him feel almost at home. After a few minutes of staring at the moonlight-stained ceiling and wondering how in the world he had ended up in this place, his eyelids got heavy and fell closed on their own.

Syaoran had expected sleep to be something that would be difficult to get used to, but he found himself drifting off before he even fully registered that it was happening.

His last thought was of Sakura's warm smile and the feeling of her hand in his, which only lulled him deeper into sleep.

Everything will definitely be alright.