Chapter 21
Falling Both Ways

"I know you, don't I?"

He lifted his head up to search for the sound. It seemed like it was being directed toward him. That was odd, because he hadn't been spoken to in a very, very long time.

"Yes. I remember you, too," he said, nodding in the direction of the soul floating a little above him.

It was the same one he'd met so long ago when he first fell into the Void, even though its form had changed significantly since then. Now, instead of looking anything like a human being, it was just a vague blob of soul.

"You're the one who forgot your Mitsuki."

"Who?"

"Never mind. That was a long time ago, anyway."

Silence stretched between them until the soul finally spoke up again.

"What is your name again? I know you told me and I promised to remember, but I can't anymore."

He poised oddly on the edge of an answer, unable to respond.

"I... don't remember it either," he strained his memory, but found that the only name he could recall anymore was Sakura's. He brought images of her up in his mind and studied them closely.

"It doesn't matter what my name was, anyway," he told the soul. But he was also reassuring himself. "All that matters is that I never forget Sakura. I swear I won't. I can't. This place can take whatever else it wants from me, but not her."

"Good luck," the soul said skeptically. It floated away.

He watch it go, wondering why he had sunk lower than that soul, even though it had been in the Void for so much longer.

He finally concluded that the Void must have wanted to be rid of him desperately.

And I can't even remember what I did to anger it anymore.

A few days passed. Once seven went by, it had been a week. Four weeks turned into a month.

Christmas came... and went.

New Year's came... and went.

Sakura felt like some omnipotent being was flipping through a calendar that contained the days of her life. One just seemed to cascade into another like the turn of a page. Each day the sun rose, got stuck high in the sky, and then sank again.

But that wasn't to say that she was drifting through life with no purpose. She had a definite purpose.

Be happy, okay?

At first it had seemed impossible, but now it was more like a distant ambition. It was like a young girl fantasizing about being a singer or a model. It would be difficult and take a lot of hard work, but she could do it if she was dedicated and persistent.

She wore a lot of bright yellows and pinks. She smiled all the time and hummed cheerfully to herself even when no one was around. She joined a few clubs at school, but didn't overload herself. She spent a lot of time with Tomoyo and everyone. They went shopping, they went to the park, they went out to eat. And slowly, slowly, the green began to fade from the back of her mind.

But, no matter how much happiness she poured into her life, the hole he'd left refused to fill up and smooth over.

"Sakura-chan just doesn't seem as cheerful," Sakura overheard Rika say to Chiharu one morning in the courtyard. Sakura stopped in her tracks to eavesdrop. "It's not totally obvious, but I think something is bothering her."

Sakura clenched her teeth for a moment and then bounded into the courtyard, waving wildly.

She resolved herself to try harder.

"How is Sakura-san?" Yukito asked as he put a bowl away. Touya handed him another from the drying rack next to the sink.

It had been over a month since Sakura had been sick, but everyone still asked about her frequently. And they always said it in a way that made it sound like she was still ill.

"Everyone's been asking that so much lately," Touya said, fishing another plate from the warm water in the sink. "It sounds to me like a broken record."

"You can't blame me for asking," Yukito said, chuckling. His tone instantly sobered up, though. "I can't get that image out of my head, even after all this time. I really thought... She was so pale, Toya."

"I know exactly what you mean," Touya said darkly. "But she's better now, I guess."

Yukito eyed Touya as he handed him another dish. "What do you mean, 'I guess?'"

Touya sighed deeply and put down the plate he was drying.

"She's not herself," Touya said, staring at the counter. "She smiles, but it's hallow. She talks, but it's about trivial things. She listens to what people have to say, but it's like she's staring right through them."

"Do you think she's still not feeling well?" Yukito asked. "Maybe she's trying to hide it again—"

"No, no," Touya said quickly. "There's nothing wrong with her. Not like that, anyway."

Yukito nodded slowly. "I had to ask."

"I know. I almost wish it was something like that," Touya said. He began drying the plate again, buffing it hard enough to take the coating off. "If it was just something wrong with her body, I could take her to the doctor and they could fix things. They could give her something to ease the pain, you know?"

Just then, the front door opened and Sakura's shadow fell across the foyer as she took off her shoes and headed for the stairs.

"Hey kaijuu!" Touya called after her. "Dinner's in an hour, okay?"

Sakura appeared in the doorway. She was dressed brightly in a pink skirt and a clean white turtleneck sweater with a dark green scarf tucked under the over-sized collar. Her infamous 'egg' backpack was swung over one shoulder, bearing a big yellow button that read "SMILE!" in bold black letters on the strap. And Sakura was smiling, but it was such a sad, sad smile.

Touya would have been happier to see her with tears streaming down her cheeks than with that smile plastered on her face.

"What are we having?" Sakura asked. The tone of her voice did not exactly match her expression. It was like two very different, but upbeat, songs were being played at the same time and now the tempos were all out of sync, becoming a jumble of nonsense.

"What does it matter?" Touya said playfully. "You're going to have to eat whatever I make you."

He braced lightly for her indignant, Sakura-ish response, but it never came. Instead, she just laughed.

"I'll be down for dinner when it's ready, then," she said, her smile like a horizontal crack in broken glass. "I want to start on my homework."

She waved, and then bounded up the staircase.

"See what I mean?" Touya asked quietly.

"Odd," Yukito finally said after searching unsuccessfully for the correct word.

It was dark, but it had always been dark. Always, always.

But, in his clouding mind, the whisper of a memory remained like the fantastic objects that can only exist in a dream: splashes of a color, one like the sun makes just as the horizon hits it, and the other like two slabs of jade smiling brightly.

Together, the colors had a name once. They had a face around them, too.

But name was gone now. The face was gone too. All that remained were those vague colors and the overwhelming feeling of attachment to them.

He was sure that feeling would never — ever — leave him. Not the way that face had, anyway. Even as he drifted slowly, steadily downward, he kept those colors close and tried to burn them into his soul.

And still the Void gathered in around him.

It made this noise. A noise like pulsing static that beat right inside his soul. He tried counting the beats in a desperate attempt to stay focused, but lost track almost as soon as he started. The sound made it hard to concentrate. And besides that, he began to realize that numbers were meaningless. Everything everywhere never had a beginning and so nothing ever ended. And if that was true, then there could never be such a thing as a "first" just as there can never be a "last". There was no place to begin counting and no place to stop. It was only an endless chain of infinity that made numbers meaningless.

Soon, he was content to just listen to the endless pulsing. As he listened, it began to form a strange sort of cadence— a timed, deliberate pattern of rising and falling sound. The Void seemed alive with the rhythm; it breathed and surged in time to the beat.

He found himself flowing with the rhythm. It ran through him and swept him along its relentless current. He was being pushed and pulled at the same time so his soul began to spread thin. It didn't hurt, but he panicked and struggled against it.

In instant response to his protest, the pulse suddenly dwindled to a slow, sluggish thump. It still moved him, but it wasn't nearly as frightening.

The colors faded back slowly. They were dull and blurry now, but they were back. He held onto them and filled his being with the emotion that wafted from them...

Even if it felt like he was drawing heat from dying embers.

Tomoyo stood motionless in the doorway to the classroom, watching Sakura as she sat her desk with her head in her palm, staring listlessly out the window. Tomoyo clutched the video tape she was holding to her chest as if it were a squirming animal that was trying to get away.

The halls of the school were so quiet that the sound of the sunshine spilling in from the classrooms could almost be heard splashing against the walls. So when footsteps broke up the oppressive silence, Tomoyo was happy to turn to greet the approaching person.

"Ah, good morning, Eriol-san," Tomoyo said, smiling widely.

"Tomoyo-san, good morning," Eriol replied, a small smile engulfing his eyes as he came closer.

"What brings you here so early?" Tomoyo asked, lowering the video tape from her chest.

"I had a momentary memory lapse," Eriol said, chuckling and tapping the side of his head. "I was halfway out the door before I realized that I was no longer assigned to morning chores with you. Sakura-san was moved back with you in Reed-san's absence, correct?"

Tomoyo nodded and responded politely, even though she didn't believe Eriol's story in the slightest. Eriol Hiiragizawa was not one prone to memory lapses, especially about things like schedules. Besides, it was big gossip when Terada-sensei announced several weeks ago that Syaoran Reed had been removed from the school by his guardian. And Tomoyo was certain that Eriol, like herself, would never be able to forget how Sakura's face fell when the teacher passed out the new chore schedules with Syaoran's name missing.

But Tomoyo wasn't going to pressure him about his real motives for being at the school so early. She was just glad for his company.

"What is that, Tomoyo-san?" Eriol asked, gesturing to the video tape in Tomoyo's hands.

"It was a project I was working on," Tomoyo said. She looked down at the tape and brushed a few fingers lightly over its sleek, unmarked surface.

"'Was?'" Eriol asked.

Tomoyo smiled to herself. Eriol could always pick up on the slightest thing. The intonation on that single syllable had given away so much to him. But she couldn't say it was unintentional.

"Yes," she said quietly. "I don't think I can finish it now. You can't replace a fallen star."

Any other person would have pressed more questions, but Eriol had already gleaned enough information to know what Tomoyo was talking about. It was almost like they didn't need words.

"It's so sad," Tomoyo said after a few moments. "A story without an ending."

"Why did you bring it here?" Eriol asked. "There must be a reason."

Tomoyo sighed and moved a bit further down the hall, away from the classroom. Eriol followed.

"Sakura-chan told me that she wanted to see it when it was done," Tomoyo said. "But even if it doesn't have an ending, it is technically finished because I simply can't do anything more with it. So I have to wonder... does that mean that Sakura would want to see what is on this tape?"

"It's your project and Sakura-san is your friend," Eriol said gently. "What do you think you should do?"

"If I knew that," Tomoyo said, a sad smile breaking on her lips. "I wouldn't be standing here on the edge of indecision, now would I?"

"If you need confirmation that you're doing the right thing," Eriol said. "Why don't you simply ask Sakura-san? Tell her about your project and then she could decide whether she wants to watch it or not."

At this, Tomoyo shook her head vigorously, a gesture that may come once in a lifetime for someone like Tomoyo Daidouji.

"I can't do that to her," Tomoyo said, her expression pulling with pain. "It would be torture to make her choose. She has no idea what is on this tape, Eriol-san. In the end, I believe it is my burden to either trick her into watching it or let her live on in ignorance of its existence."

Eriol nodded thoughtfully. "You are a wonderful friend, Tomoyo-san. I think you have the right idea."

"Yes, well..." Tomoyo said, gripping the tape hard and refusing to meet Eriol's gaze. "Unfortunately, having the right idea doesn't give me the right answer."

"Then I suppose the answer lies in an age-old question," Eriol said, leaning against the wall. "Whether it is better to live in ignorance or drown in truth."

"I think that's a little dramatic, but I see your point," Tomoyo said, smiling a bit despite herself. She paused while she mulled Eriol's last words for a moment. "However, I don't think this is about truth and ignorance. I think it all comes down to happiness and sadness."

"Meaning that this tape has the power to inspire both," Eriol said.

Tomoyo nodded faintly. "She's trying so hard to be happy, but I think the problem is the she's actively seeking out the source. Happiness isn't found; it is made. I'm afraid that Sakura-chan, in her confusion, has forgotten that.

"I know that she will come to terms with this on her own," Tomoyo continued, letting her thoughts pour out of her and into Eriol's presence. She felt like he was absorbing them so they wouldn't clamor around inside her own head any longer. "Sakura-chan is very resilient and so smart. In time, I know she will forget all this and move on... But something about that is so disturbing that it hurts right here."

Tomoyo laid a palm on the area right below her breastbone— at the bottom of her heart. She raised her eyes shyly to Eriol. "Silly, isn't it?"

To her surprise, she found Eriol's face set firmly in the most serious expression she had ever seen him use. There was no tiny smirk in his lips; no knowing look in his eyes. Just a look that bordered on mourning.

"Do you really think that it's alright to let her forget something that made her happy?" Eriol asked, his face instantly softening again.

"If the happy memory only brings back pain, then yes," Tomoyo said quickly. "In fact, I think it's my top duty as Sakura-chan's friend to keep her as far from anything painful as possible."

But Eriol just shook his head. "No, Tomoyo-san. That is certainly not your top duty. As Sakura-chan's friend, you can't possibly keep her from being hurt. Pain is life. After all, how can a person know true happiness if she has never known the depths of despair? It's like trying to know how close you are to the surface of an ocean when you have never touched the bottom."

"But I'd do anything to take her pain away," Tomoyo said quietly. "If only I could."

"Would you ever wish that feeling in your chest to go away if it meant that you had to forget Sakura-san?" Eriol asked with one eyebrow slightly raised. The sly, know-it-all smile was back in his eyes. "After all, if you hadn't met Sakura and become her friend, you wouldn't even be in this situation."

Tomoyo's eyes widened. Forget Sakura? That would be the worst punishment anyone could even bring down on her. She would let her heart rot away before she gave up the memory of her best friend.

"I think I understand," Tomoyo said, smiling. She clenched the video tape hard on the pads of her fingers. "Even if it causes her pain... She needs to see this, doesn't she?"

"I think so," Eriol said, smiling softly. "In fact, I believe it's vital. This tape will be her 'bottom', Tomoyo-san."

Tomoyo gave Eriol a very dark look. "That's not very comforting, Eriol-san."

"Oh, on the contrary," Eriol said, his soft smile having dissolved into his trademark smirk. "I feel the most assured I have in weeks."

Because it's only when you hit the bottom that you suddenly know which way is up.

At first, there was a terrible feeling of loss.

Something was missing.

Something precious.

But it was gone now.

Gone...

There was only this light.

It was a glow like darkness itself was burning.

And it was everywhere.

Maybe the darkness was better than this light.

Because this light...

It pressed so hard.

Crushing.

Smothering.

Was it down?

Was is up?

Did it really even matter?

And now...

Was there ever such a thing as space?

Was there ever such a thing as time?

Was there ever such a thing as... things?

Was it all a dream?

Why did this hurt so badly?

This light...

Was it at the bottom?

Why did that matter?

Nothing mattered, really.

What is this place—?

Sakura raced into the house and bounded upstairs to her bedroom, clutching Tomoyo's video tape tightly to her chest. She grinned brightly as she popped the tape into the VCR and flopped down on her bed. The TV turned on automatically when a tape was inserted and, like it was drawing its energy from Sakura's eager disposition, the auto-play feature took over and began the tape without any further instruction.

Sakura stuck the sticky note that had been attached to the tape on top of her headboard. She had read it hurriedly as Tomoyo handed her the tape on the way home from school. Tomoyo's expression had been hard to read, but Sakura just took it at modesty about her work. The note, however, made even less sense.

Dear Sakura-chan, this is the project that I have been working on. You asked to see it when I was finished, but I've run into an artist's block of sorts and I don't think I can find a good ending. Eriol-san said you might have some idea on how to finish it, so that's why I'm giving it to you. I hope you don't mind... Love, Tomoyo

Sakura grabbed a pillow behind her to hold in her arms as she waited for the title of the film to come flying across the screen as it usually did in Tomoyo's films. But nothing happened for a few moments. The tape just played blackness.

Then, suddenly, the screen came to life. The unmistakable landscape of the sidewalk and street just outside the school gates blinked onto the TV. The trees lining the sidewalk were bare; it must have been early winter. The background chatter of kids hanging around in the courtyard behind the camera faded out of the speakers.

After a few moments, a figure appeared bobbing over the sidewalk's horizon. The camera zoomed in and focused on the person.

Sakura had to stifle a snort of laughter when she released it was herself. She tried to think back to when this shot was taken, but couldn't recall the exact day. Tomoyo had taken so many shots of her over the couple of years they'd know each other that each session seemed to blur into one another.

"Good morning, Sakura-chan," Tomoyo's voice sounded clearly just behind the camera lens.

As Video Sakura came a little closer, the obvious distress and embarrassment in her expression became sharp and focused.

"Is everything okay?" Tomoyo's voice asked gently. The camera pulled in closer to Video Sakura's expression.

Video Sakura shook her head vigorously.

"He... He followed me," Video Sakura said meekly. Her head remained pointed at the ground. "The whole way."

In the background, another figure faded into view. The camera didn't move off-focus from its current subject, but even with the blurry image, Sakura found her heart leaping into her chest nonetheless.

Syaoran... Sakura thought, staring at the blurry patch of chocolate hair.

The camera swung off the out-of-focus little figure and the scenery changed. Video Sakura was now putting things into her locker inside the school.

"He must hate me," Video Sakura was saying. "He must really, really hate me. I can feel his gaze burning holes in my head."

Like a reflex, Sakura lifted a hand to feel the back of her head. She missed that feeling so much now...

The camera flicked and a new scene began.

"Is he there?" Video Sakura was asking.

"Of course," came Tomoyo's cheerful voice.

Sakura squinted at the TV to get a glimpse of the blurry figure just over Video Sakura's shoulder, but he was even farther away in this shot.

Sakura grabbed the remote to her television. She wasn't sure what in the world she was going to do with it, but she held it up the the TV anyway. She didn't know if she was going to pause the tape, rewind it, fast-forward it, or just shut it off. She hit a button (still not knowing which one), but the TV didn't respond. With a fleeting thought, she remembered that the batteries had gone dead a few weeks ago and she hadn't replaced them. And there was no way that she could get up to manually operate the VCR with her shaky legs and fingers.

On the screen, the scene had changed once again. Now it was early morning in a quiet classroom.

Sakura's breath caught in her throat. Syaoran was standing very near the camera, writing something on the chalkboard that was just out of the shot. His amber eyes were narrowed seriously at the board as if he were concentrating every ounce of energy he had into writing the date there.

The tape wavered slightly on the television, startling Sakura. She shook her head.

It was only a tape. It wasn't real.

Not anymore.

"Good morning Tomoyo-chan!" Video Sakura said brightly, appearing in the door frame.

"Good morning..." Syaoran said after an awkward pause. His voice was so soft that the speakers on her TV barely picked it up. Sakura had forgotten how quiet Syaoran had been in the beginning.

Blink. Scene change. A cool winter morning outside Sakura's house. The back of Video Sakura's head.

"Good morning everyone," Tomoyo's voice sounded behind the lens.

"Tomoyo-chan!" Video Sakura exclaimed, turning around. She laughed into the TV screen. "Still working on your project, huh?"

"Yes," came Tomoyo's reply. The camera focused deeper on Sakura's smiling face. "And I feel like I'm going to get the perfect shot today. Everything's coming together nicely."

Video Sakura's smile pressed a little wider. In the background, Syaoran was staring discreetly at the camera with a perplexed expression. It was such a change from the oddly emotionless Syaoran from the scene before.

"You'll let me see it when it's done, right?" Video Sakura asked.

"Of course I will," Tomoyo said. Then she added, "but I hope you will see it for yourself all on your own."

Video Sakura looked confused, but from her bed, Sakura sagged.

"Tomoyo-chan..." she said quietly to the TV. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Good morning, Reed-kun," Tomoyo said as the camera swung off Video Sakura and onto Syaoran. He became visually uncomfortable as the shot pulled tighter.

"Morning Daidouji," He replied, staring at the ground and shoving his hands into the pockets of his blazer.

Sakura couldn't help but stare. There he was... There he had been. This shot was taken right outside her house. Unconsciously, her eyes flicked to the sidewalk below her window.

He'd really been there. The tape proved it.

She had never forgotten him. On the contrary, she thought of him during every moment of every day since he went missing. Those amber eyes were tattooed on her memory.

But... sometimes she wondered if, somehow, it was all a dream.

Not her dream, though.

His dream.

The images on the TV skipped and the scene changed once again. It was the night of the carnival. Tomoyo kept the focus on Video Sakura for most of the time, which made Sakura desperate for any shot containing Syaoran. Whenever he was there, her heart skipped a beat as if pausing to let every neuron, muscle, and nerve in her body fully take in his image.

As she watched the scenes on the television, flashes of scenes that were not on the tape would play in her own mind. They were the scenes that Tomoyo hadn't been around to film. Watering cans, kites, and math filled her head until they pushed up against her mouth and forced her into a smile.

And then there was green.

"Be happy, okay?"

Sakura exhaled, the breath stolen from her body.

She could see it all now.

The maze. The huge hole in the ground. The Syaoran who slowly faded from her grip and suddenly fell away from her...

And her promise.

"Be happy, okay?" Syaoran had asked her, his transparent eyes pleading.

"Okay. I promise."

Sakura shook her head and squeezed the pillow she was holding tightly to her chest.

"How could I..." Sakura asked no one. "Promise something like that?"

Sakura heard herself scream. For a moment, she thought she'd broken down completely, but then she realized that she hadn't screamed herself. She snapped her head up to stare at the TV screen.

Tomoyo had caught some of Sakura's ice-skating accident on tape. Sakura watched herself flounder in the water for a few moments before, true to her memory, Syaoran had appeared, literally out of nowhere, to carry her to shore.

Despite everything, she blushed at the image of Syaoran carrying her princess-style to the embankment. She slid off the bed to the floor in front of her television without moving her body. With trembling fingers, she reached up to rewind the tape.

She watched again as she fell into the lake. Ice and water flew up chaotically, showering the air with a fine mist. That's when Syaoran appeared, falling into the water like he'd suddenly been dropped from the sky.

Sakura shook her head. It could have been just a trick of the camera and the fading light. After all, Tomoyo was quite far away and the scene was hectic with Tomoyo flailing around and everyone screaming.

But still...

Sakura let the tape play on. Syaoran set her down on the embankment as the crowd surged around them to keep the cold out. And even though Tomoyo was still far off, their conversation was just audible above the shouts of the crowd and Tomoyo's efforts to get over to them.

"Are you okay?" Syaoran asked her, a sort of panicked relief in his voice.

"Just cold," Video Sakura said, her teeth chattering. "What about you?"

But Syaoran just shook his soggy head, a rain of water droplets flying from the tips of his hair and sparkling off the light behind him.

"Never mind me."

And then the screen went blank. Seconds later, there was only static.

"No," Sakura moaned, fast-forwarding the tape. But there was nothing left after that.

"This isn't right," Sakura said to herself over the static. "I don't understand. Why did you go? Where are you? I miss you..."

She wasn't talking to herself anymore. Now she was making an effort to release the words into the world so that they could be heard by the person who needed to hear them. She didn't scream the words, but she simply willed them to reach him wherever he was.

"It wasn't a dream, was it? It was real— all of it was real. I don't know how that was possible, but every cell in my body tells me that I didn't imagine was happened in that horrible place. Somehow you were with me in my dreams. Somehow, you were always with me. Until now. Why did you leave, Syaoran?

"If you had wanted to leave, it would be different. I don't think it would be this hard for either of us. But now I'm being torn apart by the fact that you wanted to stay. Why did you feel like you had to leave me? I don't understand. It doesn't make sense!"

"Be happy, okay?"

"Okay. I promise."

Sakura trembled with the memory.

"Promise..." Sakura said. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. "I don't want to promise anything. I shouldn't have to. And you shouldn't either. We should just... be. Promises mean nothing and imply that the task is so difficult that it's almost impossible. I promised you that I'd be happy, but I can't be happy when I know you're suffering. So I'm done with promises, Syaoran. Just come back. No promises, no compromises... Just come back."

If he really wants to, Sakura thought desperately. He'll come back.

OoO

"This isn't right."

"I don't understand."

"Where are you?"

The static flared to cover the sound, but it couldn't quite drown it out. The sound was so different from the droning and empty static that it was like trying to blank out the sun with a mesh screen.

The sound tugged at something. In the darkness, inside this nothingness, the noise pulled at something that wasn't there. The noise...

Like an unfolding, it came back.

Words. That's what the noise was. It was a deliberately formed sound that carried meaning. It was meant for communication.

So it was ignored.

There was no need for communication here.

This place was transcendence beyond communication.

"Come back."

Back? There had never been such a thing. This was the very place where "back" began. A place of infinite emptiness; the starting and ending point of those things which were never born and can never die.

It was a place where there had always been only darkness.

Always, always.

Except...

"I miss you."

Except that there hadn't been just darkness when the sun glinted through gaps in the leaves of an oak tree beside a large open field.

Except that there hadn't been just darkness when rain splashed gently against a window pane, tapping out an erratic rhythm.

There hadn't been any darkness at all when a warm feeling pulled at his lips and forced him into a smile...

Lives. People. Self.

My smile. Me.

He recoiled from the darkness, backing away frantically and gathering up his soul all around him.

For a moment, for an eternity, he hadn't existed as himself. The Void had taken his soul and spread it so thin that the darkness had absorbed it like a drop of green coloring dispersed in a vat of ink. It was as if he'd been assimilated.

With a sickening, sinking feeling, he finally realized just what this dark light was. It was the remains of countless souls who had lost themselves entirely to the Void. They couldn't even be called souls in this form. They weren't "them" anymore.

This is the Void.

I forgot where I was. How could I forget?

He felt memories come back to him like steel shavings released into the air around a magnet.

"Why did you leave, Syaoran?"

Now that he was falling away from the light, the words rang clear and crisp through the static like a radio frequency tuned to the right station.

Syaoran. The word rang deep inside his soul and welled up to touch his mind.

My name. That's me. Me.

He'd forgotten what it was to be himself— to have something as personal as a name. For the longest time, or maybe for only a second or so, the Void had convinced him that he was part of it and not an individual. There he hadn't had memories or even a fleeting thought that belonged just to him. He had joined a collective conscious that even now was trying desperately to pull him back in.

But he could stay away as long as he didn't forget himself again.

"I can't accept things the way they are."

Syaoran let the words fall into his mind and settle there.

This voice... It belongs to someone.

That was a revelation in itself. It was the voice of someone who wasn't in the Void. People existed outside this place. They lived in a world of light and life— a place that was the complete opposite of the Void's darkness and death.

"I promised you that I'd be happy."

Promises.

Yes, Syaoran thought desperately. Be happy. That's all I want. Don't let it all be for nothing.

"But I can't be happy when I know you're suffering."

No...

No.

No!

"Sakura!"

Syaoran pushed against the darkness and, to his surprise, felt it give. All around him a light was flaring. But it wasn't the dark light of the Void. It was an actual light that was coming from within his own soul. He reached inside and grabbed onto it. A sensation like white-hot pain flared through every fiber of his being, but he didn't let go.

"No more promises," he said in a gritted tone. "Do you hear that! No more! I'm through with promises!"

And — suddenly — he felt himself falling. Falling away from the dark light below him. It was as if the Void had been turned upside-down just for him and now he was tumbling through a long, dark tunnel.

Sakura...

Disclaimer: CSS is the property of CLAMP and all related companies.

A/N: The next chapter will be the end, everyone! See my profile for ramblings.