Warning: there is a lot of gibberish in the rest of the story. Its not a real language, just calculated keyboard mashing. I need it so I can remember what they're actually saying, but you can pretend its just "blah blah blah" if the gibberish bothers you. There should be less and less of it as the story progresses.
There is also a LOT of body language descriptions due to the nature of the story. Its kind of the whole point.
Syaoran hugged his cloak tighter around his chilled body. The sun was already starting to go down. That in itself was off-putting. They had breakfast in the other world only a few hours before traveling, and it was already close to night here? He'd only been here an hour or two. The similarity to the stopped time Clow niggled at him, setting him on edge. There was nothing strange going on here. No one was going to melt. All that was over. There was always a slight difference in the time flow, it just happened to be more distinct here. Everyone seemed at ease. Though he could feel a weak undercurrent of magic in the air, it didn't seem like something people wielded outwardly.
The boy sighed, rubbing cold hands together.
All of his attempts to talk to the residents had gone nowhere. Most of them had been apologetic when they realized they couldn't understand each other. Some hadn't even responded, shrugging uselessly and walking away. Two people had actively shooed him away.
There were very few people left in the park now, the majority probably having gone home for dinner. It would be easy to follow someone out of the park and find some place to warm up or eat. However…
Fai had the money from the last world. Mokona had their tradable items.
Syaoran grimaced.
Even if he found a restaurant, he might not be able to negotiate to work for a meal. He probably didn't look the most presentable either. He swore he could feel salt crusting in his hair.
An older couple walked past where he sat, and an urgency to get someone to understand gripped him.
"Excuse me!"
The woman turned, surprised at being addressed. She paused, looking him up and down, confusion furrowing her brow. The man tapped her elbow and said something dismissive. She nodded absently and started walking away again.
Syaoran got to his feet, hastily taking a few steps towards them.
"Excuse me, I'm sorry, but-"
The grey haired man turned his head and snapped something at him shortly.
Syaoran hesitantly took another step, hands up pleadingly.
"Please, can you tell me-"
The agitated man spun around, his expression turning ugly.
"Hejro rencel!" He waved an arm in Syaoran's direction. His wife pursed her lips, but did not interfere.
"Please…"
"Hejro graenana!"
Syaoran stumbled back at the hostility, the old man taking a threatening step at him. He was in no danger from this man, but starting a fight was no way to gain anyone's trust here. Looking around nervously, he saw that the scattered few people still in the area were starting to stare.
"Hengou nal meansaha, louro hu!" The angry man stomped, gesturing for Syaoran to leave them be.
"Sorry," He bowed his head.
Warm fingers suddenly touched feather light on the back of his arm.
"Su searh he fleaneh?" A young woman was at his side, a wary but stern stare leveled at the older man.
A second later a young man with short brown hair stood beside her, looking distinctly unimpressed.
"Homnu lernuh ahm," The angry man grumbled in exasperation, pointing at Syaoran.
Behind him, the man's wife was beginning to look embarrassed.
"Reshna jherno nina ghohnu. Meshunofa nea," The young man retorted blandly.
The young woman's fingers pressed gently on his chilled arm and Syaoran let himself be led away from the confrontation. Warmth and gratitude spread through his chest. They were defending him. He looked up at his rescuer and his throat tightened. Short brown hair and green eyes.
He blinked.
That was where the resemblance ended. The woman's hair was wavy, and much darker than Sakura's. She was taller too. Taller than he was by a good six inches. And a grown person, besides. While this woman was not large, she had obviously bypassed the gangly teenager stage years ago.
She led him over to a table with benches and sat herself down.
"Munnos, roashna hamn ho?" She asked.
Syaoran frowned. He had little idea of what she had said or how to reply. He bowed his head and shrugged one shoulder. They had helped this much, but how on earth was he going to communicate further with them?
The woman bit her lip at his lack of reply and peered back over her shoulder. Her companion was heading in their direction already, the older couple hustling away down the path.
"Lenohan mau na?" She asked when the young man was close enough.
Syaoran caught a flicker of disgust on his face as he sat beside the woman on the bench.
"Wanamashii," He said bluntly.
The brown haired woman scoffed, shooting a less than pleased glare at the retreating figure of the older man. Then she turned, a more pleasant smile on her face, and they both looked at him expectantly.
Syaoran fidgeted.
He finally had someone's undivided attention and he had no idea what to do. Where should he start? How could he get them to understand that he had nowhere to go? That he was looking for people that might not even be in this world?
Opting for manners first, he bowed again and thanked them for their kindness. They smiled, clearly understanding the gesture if not the words. The man's eyes crinkled at the corners and he waved off the thanks.
A timid grin eased its way onto Syaoran's face for the first time in hours.
"Majhops fren lon?" He asked the teen.
There went his smile. He could be asking anything. His name. Where he came from. Why that man was yelling at him…
Syaoran swallowed tightly, looking back and forth between the couple, hoping for some sort of a clue.
"Ma reunhe famealo," The woman said quietly to her partner.
The man hummed, scratching a hand through hair shorter than Syaoran's.
"Kajako taklawo?"
Syaoran blinked in astonishment. The words the man had just said had a completely different accent than before. He still couldn't understand it though.
"Yawamzo quoalo wala?"
Different again, this time from the woman.
"Plemjajh krojomah?"
The boy stared. They were trying out languages to see if he understood any of them. Was it common in this world to know more than one language? Amazing. None of the languages sounded the least bit familiar, but he appreciated the gesture greatly.
The woman suddenly burst into a bright smile, energetically saying something to the man. She dug something out of her pocket and pulled out a small, round device the size of her palm. It was flat like a pancake and had a square screen on its front. She poked it and the thing lit up with a faint tone. Touching a few spots on the screen, she seemed optimistic about something. Her partner (was he her boyfriend? Husband? Brother? They looked similar enough, the same dark hair and pale skin.) looked hopeful as well.
The woman held up a hand and gestured between her mouth and the device. She spoke to the little machine in one of the funny accented languages they had tried on him a minute before. There was a moment of quiet before the device beeped and said a word in a slightly stilted tone.
Syaoran's mind raced. Did it translate? Or tell a person what language was being spoken? Technology was apparently quite advanced here, though it didn't quite hold up to what he'd seen in Piffle.
She held the device out to him and he gently took it from her. It was warm from being in her pocket and Syaoran sighed at the feeling on his numbing fingers.
"My name is Syaoran. Thank you for helping me," He spoke clearly, holding the device closer to his mouth that probably necessary.
Silence.
Then the device beeped. And that was all.
The pair across from him frowned.
"Muhnna lahandh? Promoli sholonah hum le?" They asked each other.
"Yemnah."
The young man gestured at him, miming talking and slowly spreading his hands apart.
Uh…. Oh! He wanted him to say more. Maybe the device needed a longer sample.
"Thank you for helping me out. I'm sorry I don't understand what you're saying. I hope this works."
They waited in anticipation.
Beep.
"Mahna seo la," Was the reply from the device.
Syaoran looked up at the couple, trying to gauge their reactions.
They both looked incredulous. The woman leaned forward and squinted at the device as if it had personally wronged her. The man shook his head, taking the device back and trying it himself twice. He handed it back to Syaoran and made a 'go ahead' gesture.
"What did it say?" He asked.
Beep.
"Mahna seo la," It repeated robotically.
They wore identical expressions of dismay. Syaoran's stomach twisted. It was asking for a miracle for this machine to be able to identify a language from another world, but they'd seemed so confident…
He offered the thing back to the woman, shoulders shrinking inward and expression apologetic. She took it back and shook it, huffing. Syaoran tugged his cloak around him tighter. Now that the sun was at a severe enough angle, the whole park was shaded by the neighboring forest. For the moment, he ignored his company as they mumbled between themselves. His fingernails were turning purple. He was starting to shiver. His stomach yearned for a hot meal. He had no place to stay and he had no idea how cold it would get at night here. No money. No language. No Fai. No Kurogane. No Mokona.
Things could be worse.
But they still seemed pretty miserable.
A hand waved to get his attention. The woman smiled and pressed her hand to her own chest, saying a word.
Her name. She was trying to tell him her name. Syaoran straightened, trying to replicate the syllables.
She repeated herself.
Syaoran's pronunciation was off, but she nodded encouragingly anyway.
Briina.
The man beside her repeated the process.
Wrennen.
They gazed at him, eyes bright with success.
"Syaoran."
It took them a few tries, but eventually they were able to say it so that it was recognizable.
Well that was something at least.
"Syaoran," Briina pointed to him, then the empty space beside him on the bench, then a questioning gesture with her hands raised.
The boy looked down at the bench, not understanding. Did she think there was someone there? He shook his head at her, hoping she'd elaborate.
Wrennen snapped his fingers like he had an idea. He held one up in front of himself, then with his other hand held one up in front of Briina. He dropped one hand and linked his arm through her's, holding up two fingers on his other hand. Then he pointed at Syaoran, one finger up, and with his other hand gestured to the empty seat, one finger, two fingers, three, four, five. Hands raised in a question.
Are you with anyone? How many?
Suddenly getting it, Syaoran held one finger in front of his chest, and three up beside him. Pretended to link his arm through someone else's, held up four fingers. He was counting Mokona
Briina pointed at the space beside him, around at the park, raised her hands.
Where are they?
How could he explain something so complex? Well, maybe he could go with the honest answer that was simpler.
He shook his head, shrugging.
I don't know.
Briina and Wrennen looked at each other, then stood from the bench. Startled, Syaoran hurried to his feet as well. Were they leaving him?
He must have looked panicked, because when Briina looked at him, her eyes widened and she held her hands up. The young woman gestured to all three of them, then her eyes, and around to the park.
Oh. They were going to help him look.
He tried to calm his heart and nodded to his companions in thanks. Wrennen offered him a reassuring smile and placed a hand on his smaller shoulder. Syaoran froze when he pulled it back, rubbing his now wet fingers together. Wrennen's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Han aleh shenwa, Briina," He said.
Briina looked shocked, giving Syaoran a once over and frowning in concern.
"Syaoran," She mimed swimming and pointed back to the river, her face incredulous.
Both Syaoran and Wrennen shook their heads.
"Rhemna whruh," The young man said.
Briina's eyebrows rose in disbelief.
Syaoran wondered how far the ocean was from here. Exactly how outrageous was it that he was salty?
Briina stepped closer to him, holding her hand out towards him but not touching.
Asking permission.
Syaoran didn't love the idea of strangers touching him, but he also needed their help and didn't want to offend them. He gave a tiny nod, and in retrospect, he didn't need to be so hesitant. Briina's hand was so warm on his cheek. The temperature difference sent a shiver through him.
Briina's eyes widened. Her hand dropped to his, and determination blossomed across her face. She turned and tugged Syaoran with her, calling over her shoulder to Wrennen, who hurried after them.
"Mehna haos wehmna. Loahm se na hunur."
Syaoran was not exactly sure what was happening, but he was decently certain these two were not planning to hurt him. Briina had his hand, but her grip was loose enough for him to easily twist out of if need be.
Wrennen sidled up beside him, chuckling lightly. Syaoran had the feeling it was due to the muttering Briina was doing under her breath as she marched them along.
"Yamuhn hea wha," He said lightly, a smile on his lips.
Briina slowed considerably, looking back to her significant other (Syaoran was pretty sure) with a light blush. She caught Syaoran staring up at her, and sent him a tender smile.
Such a tender, warm smile. With her hand in his, and that smile, Syaoran swore it was his mother, Sakura, looking down at him. He looked away quickly, blinking away the image. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Syaoran left the park with his eyes on his shoes.
If Briina noticed him holding on a little tighter, she didn't comment.
A huge thank you to Kira-writer, , wolf1380, and my guest reviewer! Nice to see the Tsubasa fandom still kicking!