Disclaimer: Sakura and Syaoran are the properties of CLAMP and each other.

Summary: She leaves him without warning. He loves her so much he would give his soul, life, and everything to her. The only thing keeping him alive is the bits and pieces he has of her. Life is suddenly too mangled and unbearable. Reason is nowhere to be found and anything that is supposed to sound sweet and melodious comes out twisted and wrong.

Author Note: I notice many break up stories for these two, in which Syaoran is the character who rejects and leaves Sakura. This one-shot is a nice switch from the norm. I have substituted Sakura in for Syaoran's place to change the perspective. As you read, enjoy, and cry think up a good review to write me. A review that is both insightful and/or critical. Thank you readers!

Rhyme and Reason
By: MistyWing

A year old ache remains embedded in Syaoran's heart. The wound created by a love that died a while back, reflects in his dark, aimless, wandering, amber eyes. The wound is deep enough to fill another world there. Still beating and swirling like a dark hole. Everything stays away from a dark hole to avoid being sucked into a void. The void widens with each passing day. What is as clear as the summer skies is now as black as obsidian. Here is as gone as the life that used to bubble around him.

At twenty-nine years old, he is still like a child yearning for the outdoors on a school day, except his needs are more vital. Knowing her for so long, living in her light and love, though distanced they were during the years they dated, is what had encouraged him to achieve in life. He is the one who had wished to have her by his side for all eternity. He is the one who promised her security and love, all to be but spurned for an unapparent reason. He is willing to hang a moment for her because she is everything and there is nothing else.

A first and only love that miraculously cured his blindness and run down his ignorance, saved him a long time ago. Childish rivalry bloomed into a seed inflated blossom of love. He remembers loving her, then. He loves her, now. The day she accepted him when they were twelve, he became thrilled, full, and hearty. Now, when she rejects him, he walks into a world turned over; one foot first into a world where angels fall.

Angel feathers stay tucked in between the strands of her glorious red hair. His dreams are only filled with her. She wears pink, soft, watery, silk togas and skips around in front of him as a nymph in flight might, but he is forbidden to touch her. Her entire being is caked with timeless beauty and dazzle. Her eyes are a pair of glittering, hazy, Amazon Greens, which whisper secrets about him that makes every hair on his body bristle. He still wants her, but she shakes her head and brushes him off with her golden light, without once actually touching him. Her subtle, seductive scent of fresh earth lingers in his radar of sense. Heaven's Gates remain closed to him.

Back in the real world, away from his dreams, he has been shown how it feels to be the last one standing. Walking in the streets like a prisoner in ankle chains, the city walls feel suddenly oblique everyday after she took off. They have no love for him and he does not care. All he wants is her. Drifting from reality, turning over a position as CEO, scorning acclaim, and disowning himself, has meant no materialistic value to him. He is open to his brokenness without the annoying hushed comments about his unexpected failure, swarming around his ears. He is not asleep, but he wishes to wake up.

Brilliant magic sparks between them when they battle alongside one another, literally and figuratively speaking. It is visible in the colors of pink, purple, blue, and green. She, being the mistress of Clow Reed's sorcery, yields the power of her own star and he, being the distant descendant of the mighty sorcerer, yields a blade forged by the Elders' combined powers. Paired up, their powers are unbeatable. Colors ardently bend and twist around each other in one attack. They become one. This is how it feels to be tangled up in someone. She is and always will be his foundation.

Bedtime rituals sprung after their separation. Syaoran will take a cup or two of hard liquor to suffocate the nightmares his mind conjures up. After that, he will pace in front of the empty bedroom doorway before succumbing to the fictitious world of his mind. In the nightmares, she is with another man, who deflowers her on their first date. The worst part is they look perfect together. However, she does not know that he has a gallery of others, who pale in comparison to her. In the perspective of this other man, she is the perfect flower, gem, and item of his collection. Syaoran will wake up from such nightmares feeling furious, shattered, and worthless. Always wondering if this is exactly where he will be for the rest of his life.

Cabinets hold his treasured scraps of her. Album after album is piled inside the shelves. Within each album are magazine and newspaper cutouts. Each picture is unique, special, glittering, and perfect. All of them are of her posing in costumes, dresses, gowns, casual clothing, and one piece swim suits. She is a star to the locals, but bigger and brighter yet, in his eyes. He sees only her even on the darkest and loneliest of nights. He wonders if she ever will think of him the way he thinks of her every breathing moment, every heart beat, and every sunup and sunset.

Carrier of all that is right and true, she has found her place in the world of arts. Like her mother, she is one of Tomeda's loveliest women, earning her front cover of the local magazine time and time again. One might think that the world will get tired of seeing her face, but instead her sovereignty over them reigns on. Girls hate her because she is an exquisite beauty and their boyfriends seem to want her. He once asked her what she thought of the boys. She answered, "I don't know. I only see Syaoran. I only care about what Syaoran thinks of me." That memory is the hammer that hit the nail, the sweeteners in the tea, and the cherry on an ice cream sundae.

Their dates, consisting of long-distance phone calls and lengthy, heart-felt love letters, ended one day. All of the words in their lives thus far vanished into the dusk and has never appeared again. Yet, Syaoran cannot help, but collect what they once had in the photos and the words. He will never be able to explain or describe his need for her to anybody else.

Her last letter to him is short and explains nothing at all to him.

Dear Syaoran,

I cannot be with you anymore. Don't reply or call me back. It's over.

Your Friend Forever,

Sakura

Syaoran takes it out once in a while, sometimes looking for it, hoping that it might not show up. Maybe it is not real and he will realize that she is still with him. Everything will be all set again and the pieces of the puzzle will fall in place a second time around. To realize that she is still around means the world to him.

One dark day, on a howling wind ridden season, his doorbell rings. He told everyone, including the super of his apartment building that he will not allow any visitors. Syaoran answers it and is flabbergasted to find the one person he never expected to see again. He thinks he has stepped into dreamland, where the sun is up twenty four hours a day. No night.

"Sakura." The name hardly comes out of his mouth.

The young woman smiles up at him. "Syaoran Li. I've been looking all over for you."

"What?"

"It has been too long since I last saw you and I just so happened to be in town. I thought looking you up and spending time with you once more would be nice." She walks into the messy apartment and intakes everything she sees with scorn. "This is where you live, now? I thought you could do better."

He wishes he had cleaned up prior to when she arrived.

"I didn't expect company. What brings you to Hong Kong?" He said this calmly, without breathing. Only holding his breath in eagerness of still seeing her there and talking to him, ascertaining that she is really not a figment of his imagination.

She walks up to him and wags her finger at him. "I got worried about you. When the hot, business men of your stature disappear from the Chinese media, it concerns me. So, this is what you've been up to?"

Syaoran looks away, wishing he could turn back the clock. Go back to a year ago and accept his position as CEO. He would still be at his penthouse instead of the dirty one-bedroom apartment he lives in, now.

She got up close and personal. Her nose twitches. "Is that alcohol I smell on you?" She backs him into the coffee table, reaching past his waist to grab a liquor bottle.

He flinches. She stares at him, stunned, her eyes wide kryptonite, his weakness. Now, he wishes, he had just freshened up before answering the door to her. An inferiority complex settles in on him. He has nothing to give or show that he is worthy for her.

"How-How are the shoots?" He asked, tripping his way to the bathroom. Sakura follows him, and eases against the doorframe casually.

At first the question draws a frown to her face. "Don't you know?" It is a question for a question.

Syaoran does not know much. He has no television and he cannot afford newspapers or magazines since he throws all his chump change into his stock of liquor.

"People tire of us old and withering models."

"You're not old! You're gorgeous!" He retorts, while shaving his lower jaw.

Sakura really takes a good look at him through the mirror.

"Speaking of looks, I almost couldn't recognize you. You're pale and lanky like a teenage boy going through puberty. Have you been eating right? Have you been taking care of yourself?"

Syaoran turns to stare back at her. "You don't look so healthy yourself. Have you lost weight?"

"Actually, I have," she whispers. Her tone quickly changes, "Syaoran, can I spend the night with you? I really don't want to spend the money for a hotel room. I'll be taking the next flight back to Japan tomorrow anyway, so I won't be too big of an inconvenience to you."

Syaoran's heart starts doing somersaults.

He takes her to the movies that night. Their chance to catch up and relive the days that they had given up is at hand.

Sakura clings to his arm as he protectively holds her to his side as they walk out of the theater. He takes Sakura to the park, while they both discuss the plot of the movie.

Suddenly Sakura stops and pulls him onto a bench. Syaoran notices something about her as she snuggles against his abdomen. Syaoran has not cuddled with her for over twelve months. He instantly forgets about the something that is missing from her as he holds her close to him. What they have is what righted his contorted mind.

"I went to see Yelan, thinking maybe you might be home." She looks up at him, her face an inch from his. "You weren't."

"Why did you break up with me?" Her glowing face gives him the courage to ask this question.

She giggles. "There wasn't or isn't another guy if that is what you're thinking. It was just the hassle of having your boyfriend so far away." She stands up and circles the bench. "It wouldn't work out, Syaoran. I would only tie you down from your dreams. We lived in a washed-up relationship."

"I still love you, Sakura," he says, cupping her face in his callused hand. "That's why you see me like this."

There is a long pause as the wind tosses his hair around.

She brushes the stray strands from his eyes. "Please, Syaoran. Forget me after tonight."

He does not answer her, so she takes his hands and walks him home.

They wake up in the same bed together. Waking up with her for the first time, now, makes it even harder for him to let her go. They have breakfast and she tells him she is leaving soon. He keeps telling her, "I love you." She does not seem to know what to say to this as she just smiles at him and rattles on about something else.

Sakura and Syaoran decide to cuddle one last time on his love seat before her taxi arrived. Syaoran notes, she is warm, but then, he notices something missing again. A part of her seems weaker and distant.

"Syaoran," she whispers against his neck. "I want to be with you, but…"

Syaoran could hear the tears welling up in her eyes. He needs to pinpoint what is wrong fast before it is too late.

"…but I can't." The confession.

He got it!

"Sakura, what happened to the magic?"

"Syaoran, Kero and Yue-san disappeared the day I was diagnosed. I had no idea that I sustained their form here on Earth with my powers." Tears splattered onto the sensitive skin of his neck. "Syaoran, I'm very sick. I have no magic left in me."

"What's the matter?" He takes her face in between his palms.

"Very soon, I won't be here anymore."

"What are you talking about?" He tenderly buries his hand in her lush hair.

"Why I can't be with you is… I'm dying."

Life is unfair. Approximately one year ago she had been diagnosed with the same illness as her mother that ate away at her health and weakened her immune system. If only he had done something to find out sooner. He should have been with her in those years when he pursued his higher education and got a job, storming up ranks. She is his salvation. She is his reason for life. She is his melody and together they make harmony.

Reality returns in the lucky color red. He wears an immaculate white tuxedo and she wears a white wedding dress. His mother and four sisters surround his bride. His bride is delicate in a white dress. She wears a tiara that holds her veil in place. Her eyes shine like a beacon for Go! Every time he looks at her, his world turns peaceful and clear. She is his reason for a career change

Sipping his crystal clear, bubbling wine glass, he spends all his time watching her. He notices everything about her that even others cannot see. He notices the distinct ways in which she turns and talks to people she loves, likes, and don't know. He notices that she will never be the same again, without Keroberos Sun and Yue Moon. She only has him left.

His father-in-law, wearing a white tuxedo, is standing next to him, with his hands tucked into his pants pockets. While Syaoran's eyes seem to be consumed with his new wife, Fujitaka has his eyes set on a gentleman coming up to them.

"So, my sister's partner in life, what's your next move?" Touya Kinomoto, his only love's dearest brother, baits him.

"Med-school."

Touya quirks an eyebrow. Fujitaka turns to him and puts an arm around Syaoran's shoulders. "Son, when my wife got sick, I was powerless to do anything."

"I will do everything I can to keep her in this world. This world will turn to dust without her full life here."

"You haven't got much time left," Touya says. A single tear falls from his dark oaken eyes.

Settling his glass down, Syaoran grins. "I know. I will finish my work in Heaven with My Love."

Fujitaka frowns, a father's anxiety showing in his soft brown eyes. "You have to keep living for her. She cherishes life and will not be happy if you don't naturally live out your entire life."

Syaoran shrugs his hand off, appreciation gone from his cool, amber eyes as he looks into the friendly eyes of Fujitaka. The older man does not understand. His son seems to get it more, though, because another tear rolls from his other eye. More tears come from Touya's squinting eyes.

"How can I explain to you how much she means to me?"

Touya storms to the men's room. Sympathetically, Syaoran notes to call the man up after the wedding banquet.

"Really, I can't explain. There are simply no words in this world to explain how I feel." Syaoran turns away from the man and walks away.

He walks toward his life, his world, through a tunnel of light. He sees that her face is bored. The man, Syaoran thinks is his mother's brother, walks away and disappears from his narrow vision. Syaoran only sees her. She finally turns from her sideways position and flashes him a bright smile. The corners of her eyes crinkle up for him and everything in the room seem to fall down around her.

None of the objects he ever wanted in all of his life means anything to him. Eternity with her is not enough time. She has the power to replace the air he breathes. Cuddling with her is better than any kind of organic food. For ever how long the both of them stay in this temporary haven, he will find a cure, so that no one has to suffer like him before returning home.