In the ones that ended in tragedy, the hero always had those last few moments which would decide the way his own story would be told to generations afterward. The last few moments counted for everything, no matter what. If the hero acted cowardly, they would be shamed. However, if the hero acted with moments that showed his courage and his bravery, than he would be remembered as a saint.
When Sakura heard these stories, she would always wonder why the hero did what he did. How could he be so calm when he was about to die? How could he still stand up for his beliefs in the face of hellish fire? What if he just succumb to the fates and let himself die? Would that make him less of a man? Or was it the principal of it all?
Sakura had no answers, yet she thought back to the hero in the story as she stood in the hall she had just been thrown in, waiting. She wondered for a moment if this was how he felt, waking to his doom, than scolded herself.
'I am not going to die,' she told herself again. 'They would have killed me a long time ago. This is not how I should be thinking. Think, Sakura, think about something else. Anything else!'
However, nothing but the hero's lone figure walking would come to her mind. 'I am like the hero,' she thought as she forced herself to raise her eyes to meet her captors, 'I'll can't do much, but I can try.' She stared down at the two lone figures opposite her at the other end of the hall.
The room was large and lush with reds and purples, golds and sapphires, silvers and turquoises. A large red carpet stretched its mighty body down the whole floor, with intricate designs and weavings. The walls were covered in a golden clothe, and the ceiling had large paintings on it, with human figures in a glowing light and surrounded by their subjects. There was a glint and sparkle to almost everything in the room, which Sakura realized was real gold etched into the engravings on the pictures and around the frames.
At the end of the hallway was a large chair, set above everything else in the room. Large, wide steps ran away from it, and a large glass window was behind it, showing the millions of nightlights this massive city had. In the middle of the chair sat a very large man. From the distance, Sakura could not judge his eyes, but his face was cruel.
"We have brought her, Emperor Taro!" The leader of the troop said, the same man who had smacked her seconds before. The sound of his voice made her cheek start to throb more. "The other one has been sent down to the Detention Block, as you have ordered."
At the mention of Saran-kun, Sakura's pain lessened, and she listened for anything more that would help her to him.
"Very well done, General Kazou. Take your troops and leave." The Emperor said, flicking one of his hands in the direction of the door.
The man, Kazou, hesitated a moment, glancing at Sakura than at the emperor. "Sir, I would like to remain and question the captive for news of her other companions, which have ...eluded us."
The Emperor chuckled. "Of course, of course. But not now. You shall have your chance, Kazou. I have a feeling this lady is going to be staying with us for a while." Sakura could feel the man's eyes on her, probing at her clothes, traveling her body. It made her feel degraded and disgusting, her stomach churned.
"Thank you, Emperor Taro." Kazou said, than spun around to face his man. The two men that had been holding Sakura let go, and they marched away. Blood rushed back into Sakura's numb arms, sending a tingling feeling down to her fingertips. She heard a door open and the loud clang of a door closing. And then, she was alone.
It was hard to determine if being in the room with this man was any better then being in the room with this man and the troops. At the current moment, being alone with this man scared her more then she thought it should. She stood there, waiting, her eyes to the ground, wondering what was going to happen. At long last, the Emperor called to her.
"Come." he said, like a master giving a command to a dog.
Fear gripped her feet and forced her to move. As she walked down the hall, Sakura noticed the brilliance in construction. The throne was at the center of it all, where the eye naturally went. It being raised a little above everything else made it out to mean not only a sign of respect, but of great power. This whole room seemed to be constructed around the throne purposely.
Making the person in the throne the mightiest of all.
This did not help her fear, but Sakura kept walking down.
As the man loomed over her, Sakura took in his features, while trying to push down the urge to empty her stomach's contents. 'I wish I wasn't here.' She thought, 'Kurogane-san, Fai-san...Syaoran-kun, where are you now?"
He was a giant. Dominant features gave his rugged face a strangely handsome appearance. Black hair was swept back from a widow's peak, his square jaw jutted out, and two red eyes, almost like Kurogane's, stared at her with an interested, but unimpressed glare. Almost as if she'd disappointed him the moment she walked into the room.
"This is her?" His deep voice asked. "She's so young."
"Yes, this is her." another replied.
Alarmed, Sakura spun around to face the second voice. Standing, not two arms length from her, was a man.
Much smaller than the Emperor, with a fairer face, yet the same black hair. Handsome, yet not overpowering, the face of a politician; completely trusting, yet sinister in nature. His thin lips pursed into a smile as he held out his hand to her, "Good evening." The words rolled off his tongue easily, as though he was discussing the weather with an old friend, instead of a terror-stricken young girl.
Sakura's instincts had saved her from harm more than once, and this was no exception. The Emperor sitting in the highest chair of power, however cruel and evil he was, was nothing, she knew, when compared to this man.
He was the one she should be afraid of.
Saburo was almost beside himself as he watched her with glee being half carried, half dragged into the room. Oh, she was everything he imagined, at least, in looks.
Slim figure, pretty face, with light brown hair that curled at the end. Long, delicate hands, fair skin, large green eyes. If her intelligent proved as good as her beautify, they might actually have a chance at this.
Saburo turned his eyes away from her to his brother, and was greatly disappointed in his reaction. Taro seemed irritated and bored. Saburo sighed. As it always was, Taro failed to realize just how much potential this girl had. It was one of his brother's greatest faults, and he supposed, one of his greatest assets, too. Taro was too set on a goal and too codependent for his own good. It served well in battle, this was the reason why Taro was such a good military hero, but it did not quite cross over into politics. In war, Taro could easily win any battle possible. His goal was right in front of him, and the consequences of his actions were set out before him. Kill this person, this defense falls, bomb this area, this move here, that move there, and so on.
Taro was a man of action, which helped him become Emperor in the first place, but not one to consider all the possibilities. This was where Saburo came in; Saburo was Taro's extra set of ears and mind. Of, as Saburo liked to muse to himself, his only brain. Taro was smart, but Saburo was smarter, and they both knew it. Thus, when it came to the girl, Saburo knew Taro was only keeping himself from killing her right than and there because of him.
He wondered if the girl knew that he was saving her.
"Good evening," he said, recording her reaction. Her eyes were a wonderful color of green. Full of life and curiosity, though at the moment, they were glassy with tears, ready to start a waterfall any second now.
Yes, she would win them over. With a face like her's, pretty but not alien or exotic, she could easily win them over.
She kept her eyes on him as he moved next to Taro, making sure to take to remain higher than her, but lower than Taro. In this state of mind, Taro could easily blow, so it was best to keep on him good side. For now, at least.
Yet her eyes did not leave him, even as he took a seat next to his brother. Saburo mind clicked to as he watched her eyes calculating what was going on. In the instant her eyes flicked from him to his brother, he knew she had just figured it out. Oh, this was something! She was smart! She knew exactly what was going on, and her eyes told him everything. What a feat! In that moment, Saburo wanted to turn to her and laugh and shout out, "You know, don't you? Taro is a nothing but a puppet! Yes, it is I who is the real Emperor, not this foolish man beside me. And you know this, don't you, my beauty, my love? You know who has the real power in here, and you figured it out the moment I came up behind you!"
However, he did not say a word, nor did his face reveal any of his thoughts. Unlike her, he had trained his eyes not to betray him.
Still, the fact she was able to communicate all of this through her eyes was astounding.
Yes, this would work. She would win every single person over. Soon, the whole world was going to love her.
This would work.
Sakura watched as this new man took a seat beside the Emperor. Without trying, nor meaning to, Sakura had already understood what was going on. This new man, this was the one she should be afraid of, though she did not know to what extent. The whole atmosphere of the room had changed, and it leaned toward the man. He walked with an air of power, and a confidence Sakura knew only came from those who had already won. Yet even though he had won, at what she wasn't yet sure of, he seemed to be constantly changing, adapting to each new thing as it came.
And right now, she was the new thing.
"This is what we have been looking for, Saburo? This girl?" The Emperor asked, inclining his large head toward the man next to him.
The man, Saburo, smiled, scaring Sakura. There was something so terribly wrong and twisted with his smile. Sakura wished she had more memories, for perhaps than she would know what her body was trying to tell her.
Saburo replied softly, in the same voice he used earlier. "She's young, but others have been married younger. She'll do."
Marriage! What in heavens name! Sakura's mouth dropped slightly, hearing them talk to each other as though she was not even standing at their feet, like the prisoner she was.
Taro was looking at her, one eyebrow dipped lower than the other. "What's her name again?" he said.
Sakura closed her mouth in plain defiance, though it was pointless, for Saburo answered, "Sakura. A pretty word, not one I've heard before. Probably a lost language by now."
The fact this Saburo knew her name, and used it so freely, not even with a single honorific attached, humiliated her, degrading her to less than what she was, what Syaoran constantly remaindered her she was; a princess. To be stripped of her title, and have her name stand alone, hurt her more than she knew it should. To let anyone else use her name freely meant something deep within her. Something in her heart? Maybe. From the few memories she had, she knew it meant that she trusted that other person almost to the point of love. After all, didn't Touya let Yuki use his real name? Their friendship was deep and caring.
'Sakura let this go! You're in another world, things are different here,' she reminded herself, though she was really trying to keep from letting her tears escape. No, she would not cry. Not in front of these men.
Yet when she heard her name again, just her name, nothing else, she could not help but think, 'Syaoran-kun still called me a princess, in every world,'
"Who are you?" the words formed on Sakura's mouth and where out before she could control herself.
Taro and Saburo did not seem to mind her obviousness', for Saburo pleasantly responded, "My beauty, I am Prince Saburo, and this here," he paused, bowed his head toward the Emperor, "...is Emperor Taro, my brother, and your new fiancé."
Sakura's eyes widened in shock. "What!"
Saburo continued unnerved at her outburst, "You are a prefect match in all of this. I personally have been watching you since you and your friends first arrived here days ago." Sakura gaped at him. He knew of their arrival? Did that mean that he knew of the Dimension Witch? In that case, was he really there to help her?
Saburo continued, his words distinguishing each one of her hopes the more he talked. "No one but a three people know the truth about where you came from, where ever that was. Two of them are in this very room, and another, a man by the name of General Kazou. The rest have been taken care of," Sakura did not want to know what he meant by, 'taken care of'. It chilled her to even think of what he, this ...monster, might have done to whomever else.
Saburo crept from his space next to his brother closer to her. "Do you know how many people have been out searching for you? The other magic sources were interesting, though not by any means as wonderful as you."
Other sources? He must mean Fai and Mokona, Sakura thought, remembering her companions' strange forms of magic. A bit of hope grew in her. 'They must have not been caught,' she realized.
"Why did you have to capture me?" Sakura asked, trying to put as much courage in her voice as possible, yet it still came out sounding weak and small to her.
Saburo grinned. "You are a woman. And we needed a woman. Simple." There was an evil glint in his red eyes.
Whatever he meant by that, Sakura did not want to know. "Where's Syaoran-kun?" she asked.
"Who?" Taro looked at his brother.
"She must mean the other one we caught." Saburo continued saying. "His name is Shaorankun? What an ugly name."
Sakura burned with an angry fire. The way these brothers talked was infuriating, like they were having a cup of tea. She wanted to yell at them, to scream to let her go. Yet her rational side refused to let a muscle move. They were the players with all the cards, and all Sakura could do was try to keep herself and Syaoran-kun alive. Fai, Kurogane, and Mokona were safe, yet with them being so far away did not lull her trouble mind. Or stomach.
"We have placed him in one of the Detention Blocks. He might survive, though I doubt it."
"What have you done to him? Why can't you leave us alone!"
"We needed you. It's your fault, really. Had you not run from us, this boy would have never gotten hurt. We could keep him alive," Saburo paused, examining her, "...that is, if you're willing to comply. No matter, really. He is of no use to us. You, however, are."
Saburo brought out a his wand from behind his back. He flicked, and before her every eyes out of thin air came Syaoran. He was not the Syaoran she knew, however, and with a numbing feeling, she realized what she was seeing was just a picture. But the picture burned into her eyes. He was hurt, and badly. Red blood, Sakura did not want to guess who's it was, ran all over him. His face, normally so calm and kind, was scared and horrifed. He was in pain, his lips scruntched over his brown eyes, large fate tear stains down his cheek. The skin around his eyes was blue and shiny, there were red marks around his neck.
Sakura turned away, almost screaming, "Stop that! Stop that!". She put her trembling fingers to her lips, taking deep breaths through her noise. 'Syaoran-kun...I am so sorry...'
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Saburo flick his wand again, and she knew the image was gone, though she could still see him when she blicked.
"Allow me to put this simply, Sakura. We hold his life in our hands. He will die, unless you give us a reason to prolong his meaningless death." Sakura recongized what tatic Saburo was using. It was the kind Fai used all the time with Kurogane. Saburo picked words he knew would get a rise out of her. And, sadly, it was working.
"Not that I really see why would want him to live," He scuffed, "After all, he is a trick. A filthy thing lacking of magic and reeking of the our silly brothers and sisters on the outskirts. Tricks are dieing species, so one more death is not going to make much of a difference." His words were knives, sharp and piercing. "I suppose we could use him, no, Taro? Put him into an arena with foul beasts, and watch him fight to his death. Would you like that better, Sakura? Would that change anything for him? Would it clear your conscious to help you believe you did something good for this animal?"
Sakura felt tears begin to flow down her cheeks again, and hated herself for it. "Let him go. Just let him go. I'll do what you want." She said her voice devoid of will. Through the blur of water, Sakura's tried eyes raised themselves once more to look, not at Taro, but at Saburo. In his face, she saw a fleeting moment of triumph. Watching her crumble and submit to him gave him that triumphant look. He'd won, just like he knew he would.
Saburo came down to her, and took her hand in his own. "No. We won't let him go." He held her hand the way a brother would, not a monster. "Get ready, my beauty, for soon, you will be a queen"
Sorta looked out the window, pressing his fingertips into his temples, trying to target the ache.
This was not good. Not in the least.
Sorta's latest source for his headache came, not from his advisers and contacts watching every detail of this event, but from his very own little cousin, Tomoyo. It was not her personally that brought on the headache, but the news she carried to him. As she retold him the story of what happened to her vividly, he realized just how little his cousin knew of the significance of her random discovery. At first he thought Sorta, you fool, you should have prepared her more.
And than he thought, 'My worst fears have come true.'
The Emperor was taking a wife.
And not a very willing one, if Tomoyo's story was anything to go on. But a wife none-the-less. And this person, whoever she was, must be someone of extraordinary power, and someone who has something extremely secretive, if the Emperor had to blackmail her to become his wife, which seemed the path he was taking at this very moment. Sorta had heard the rumors at suppertime, the fact that the Emperor had 'officially' started looking for a mate. But the cons of finding a wife so late in his life far outnumbered the pros.
What exactly was the Emperor, or more precisely, what was that damn Prince Saburo, trying to accomplish? Sorta knew their ultimate goal was to once again reunite the Empire into the glory it was a few years ago, when Taro's fame had been at its highest point. But with the different provinces suddenly becoming smarter and beginning to rebel against him, what was the point? 'He needs an heir, for one,' Sorta thought. 'Someone to have the families gossip about. Plus to be married to the richest being on the planet would unite some. But what about the rest?' Saburo, of course, would train the boy to become a genius, something that Sorta wanted to do everything in his power to stop. One Saburo was enough to deal with, but two?
What was he missing?
Two arms wrapped around his chest, and he felt a warm body pressed up against him from behind.
"What are you thinking about?" Arashi whispered in his ear.
"What Tomoyo told us." He grabbed a hold of one of her hands, pressing it into him. "I can't figure out what Saburo is trying to do. I fear I'm going to loose this."
Arashi hugged him tighter. "There is still time. If this girl is as scared as Tomoyo said, they won't be making any announcement for a few more days."
"Perhaps, and nine months from now that girl is going to be caring the Emperor's child for all we know."
"Don't be so sure that is what they're after. An heir, yes, but right now they need a full grown person."
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Why do you say that? What makes you so sure they do not need an heir right now?"
"A baby hardly unites anyone, let alone makes decisions. They need a new figure to place at the top of the crown, someone new for the parties to look at and question."
Sorta smiled. "They need a distraction."
She kissed his cheek, murmuring into his skin. "That's right. And happy that they are going about this in perhaps the wisest and the most foolish way possible."
"How so?" Sorta knew he probably could figure out from her words what she meant, but right now he was too tired, and she was too close, and she seemed to know all the answers. So he let her take control, and tell him things he should have known already. Not that either of them minded.
"They are putting a frighten girl in a place of power. Saburo is counting on the fact that whatever her actions may be, she'll keep eyes off him. But when people are frightened, you don't know quite what they are going to do."
"So you're saying this girl is who we should be watching?"
"Maybe.But that's for you to decided, isn't it?"
"I don't who I am supposed to be watching. I don't even know if any of this is going to work. We need a mircle."
"You might have one, right under your noise. Think of that happy thought." She kissed him, than rolled over onto the bed and fell asleep. Sorta lay awake for a few more moments thinking about her words before he realized how stupid he was without his wife. He curled up beside her, pressed his lips on her bare shoulder, than drifted off after her.
