I ended up making some edits to this and reuploading. Nothing major, just slightly focusing on Nirai Kanai instead of the more general upsetting stuff I had before.

On the fourth morning at Briina and Wrennen's apartment Syaoran woke to the sounds of pouring rain and a cacophony of joyous frogs singing.

It was hard to tell exactly how early it was, but it felt early. Syaoran groaned and pulled his pillow over his head to drown out the noise. He had no idea how long it had been since he had gotten three full night's sleep in a row, but it was having the opposite effect he expected. The more sleep he got, the more exhausted his body seemed to realize he had been. Briina had sent him to bed just after dinner last night due to the fact that he almost took a nose-dive into his plate.

Syaoran felt a little bad that sending him to bed had sort of subsequently sent the couple to bed as well. There was no guest room, so he was stuck out in the living room for the time being. If they wanted to turn out all the lights for him, they had to retreat to their own room. Wrennen seemed to be planning as if Syaoran was here for the long haul and had moved him from sleeping on the couch to a mattress on the floor in front of the bookcase.

The man had noticed Syaoran peeking at all the books in the corner and encouraged him to look through them. The written language was completely alien to him, but Wrennen sorted through the stacks, making a pile of books with lots of pictures. They were a lot like textbooks, and Syaoran was thrilled that one might actually be an encyclopedia. He spent hours pouring over the pictures and diagrams. Without any explanations he wasn't sure he had quite the grip on the information as he could have, but it was way better than nothing.

Briina had giggled over how studious he was, running off to the bedroom for a minute before returning with a smaller book. It was worn, the corners a little rounded and the edges a little brown. Obviously, a well-loved piece of literature. She handed it to him with a look that spoke volumes.

You can borrow this but take good care of it.

The boy had been ecstatic when he opened it up, the pictures were bright and unmarred by time. It was some sort of nature guide.

He happily spent most of that day running errands with Briina and identifying as much as he could. She had found his enthusiasm endlessly amusing. The woman helped him at times, flipping through the pages with well-practiced ease to find the right picture to match the plant he was looking at.

A ridiculously loud croak from the balcony startled Syaoran out of his near sleep.

Not a minute later Briina stumbled to the bathroom for her daily bout of morning sickness. Wrennen followed her out of the bedroom, eyelids drooping and steps heavy. He passed by where Syaoran lay and walked straight to the front window. The man opened it wider and leaned forward, looking around for something.

Syaoran was about ninety percent sure when Wrennen started talking that he was giving the frogs a very stern lecture.

Apparently, it was an early morning for everyone.

Briina handed him a small broom and the two of them got to work. Every time it rained the balcony needed to be swept. Which was a lot. It had rained every day he had been here so far, either early in the morning or close to dinner time. It was always a downpour, yanking the new buds and flower petals from the trees and plastering them to every flat surface. The balcony was the smallest bit warped, nothing one would notice when walking around, but the water puddled along the edge of the building. Sweeping the water off to the sides ensured it didn't sit and start rotting the wood.

Syaoran yawned, his eyes watering. The air was cooler today, the sun still hiding behind some quickly moving clouds.

He looked up from where he'd cleared the water from near the stairs and caught Briina smiling at him. She did that a lot. It shouldn't bother him. She was just being nice. Both her and Wrennen were so content here. No one's life was perfect of course, but they seemed to have everything under control. Syaoran couldn't shake the nagging feeling that being smiled at so much was unnerving. After so many worlds in serious conflict, waging wars, terrible crises… peace felt unnatural.

He kept having to remind himself to relax. He wasn't being lulled into a false sense of security. It was calm here. No one had asked anything of him. In fact, when he managed to convey to his hosts that he would like to do some work for them, they had refused. Briina let him help around the house and carry groceries for her, but that was it.

Syaoran sucked in a deep breath and smiled back.

Briina scrunched her face up at him and wiggled her broom at him.

"Sheamlo pherle, Syaoran."

He didn't know what she said, but it sounded like she was teasing him. His shoulders inched towards his ears and he blushed lightly, unsure if he should be embarrassed.

She snorted and turned around, leaving him to his thoughts again.

He finished his area of the balcony quickly, flicking the damp petals off the end of the broom over the railing like he'd been shown. One of the people in the neighboring apartment called good morning to him from where he was cleaning his own balcony.

Syaoran offered the man a good morning as well, hoping the phrase Briina and Wrennen said to him each day was polite enough for strangers.

The older man waved shortly and retreated back into his home.

Syaoran was just a little bit proud of himself.

Wrennen didn't get home until dinner was ready that night. Syaoran felt stirrings of irritation that he couldn't just ask what the man did for work. It was easy to communicate about the house, the weather, food, and other items that were immediately visible. Abstract things like what someone did for work or asking about the spirits he kept seeing at night was close to impossible.

They ate quietly for the first time that night. It was clear to Syaoran that he wasn't the only one who was drained. There were no clocks in the house, but it was clear that they'd all been up much earlier than usual.

He offered to do the dishes for them. He had to do something in return for their kindness or he was going to start feeling really awful. Luckily the couple was tired enough that after some light protests they caved. Wrennen patted him on the back in thanks before the two retired for the night.

Syaoran plugged the sink and turned on the hot water, watching it splash and swirl against the porcelain. He could hear his hosts walking around in the other room.

And then it was quiet. Their lamp clicked off and the slip of light that always shown out from the crack under the door disappeared.

Syaoran curled his toes against the cool tile. This was the first time he was the last one up. Wrennen was a night owl it seemed, and Syaoran could almost always hear him puttering around on the other side of the wall. Now it felt unnervingly quiet. The animal cries never died down at night, but that was all he could hear. It made him oddly jittery. His eyes flicked to the windows around the house.

Always open.

Normally it felt nice. The constant flow of fresh air was wonderful.

Except now it made him inexplicably uncomfortable. Vulnerable. Kurogane would hate it.

Syaoran swallowed, drumming his fingers on the edge of the sink. Reminded himself that he was safe here. Four days and nothing had happened. He could relax. Should relax. Turning his gaze away from the windows, he turned off the water before it got too high. It was probably too hot, but he washed the dishes methodically nonetheless. It burned slightly, but it was grounding. It kept his thoughts from steering somewhere dangerous.

It took him longer than he would have liked to turn the lights off. Shuffling to his bed in the dark, he felt around for his night clothes. The boy changed quickly and settled himself on the mattress, eyes wide. He was so tired, but a feeling of wrongness hummed in his blood. He pushed his back against the bookcase, the blankets wadded up around his ears.

He missed the sounds of his companion's breathing.

He missed safety in numbers.

He missed Sakura.

Syaoran faded off to sleep to the sounds of a million unfamiliar insects.

He woke up to screaming.

Check that.

Syaoran woke himself up screaming.

There was something around him. Binding him. He thrashed, ripping it away with his free hand. His heart was beating so fast it was dizzying. His father's bloody face was seared into his brain, the world a horrific mess of water and half wasted corpses.

A slam nearby frightened a choked gasp out of his lungs. Someone was moving, but where were Kurogane and Fai? He tried to get to his feet to defend himself but there were more things tangled around his legs and he only made it half upright by the time someone burst into the room.

The sudden lights sent him reeling.

His jumbled brain took its sweet time remembering where he was and that it was Wrennen and Briina's terrified faces he was staring at.

That's right. Kurogane and Fai and Mokona weren't here.

A strangled sob pushed its way out of his chest and Syaoran rolled backwards, kicking his legs free of the twisted blankets. His father's voice, his screams, echoed in his ears maddeningly. Hot tears poured down his face, having started long before he awoke.

"Syaoran?" Briina's voice was so small, so cautious.

The boy couldn't bring himself to look up at them, trying to wrestle everything back under control. He was usually so good at compartmentalizing. He could be upset later. Calm down and do whatever it was he needed to do and then melt down in private.

It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working?

His chest was constricting. He couldn't breathe. He was gasping and heaving, and he didn't understand this. Why couldn't he calm down? He'd had nightmares before. They'd been so busy since Nirai Kanai that he hadn't been sleeping much up till now. Was this his reward for finally resting?

What deity had he pissed off by existing?

Syaoran pressed his head into his hands. Why was it all of a sudden too much? All he had wanted was to see Syaoran again. He hadn't wanted to fight anymore. Why did everything always have to end in violence?

The Utaki's commanding tone wouldn't get out of his head.

'When his existence has been erased…'

Blood and water flickered in front of his eyes. Lightning.

If he kept hyperventilating he was going to throw up.

"Syaoran…" Wrennen had taken a seat on the floor, no closer than before. Briina was gone.

That wasn't even really his name. He was Tsubasa. Syaoran was a borrowed name. His father's. But still his. But not.

What was he supposed to do?

Syaoran sobbed, his grief spilling out in horrible, keening cries. He was shaking, he couldn't stop, his fingers twisting into his hair. He needed to be grounded or he was going to shake himself apart.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Wrennen slowly scoot closer. When he didn't flinch back or lash out, the man moved even closer. Syaoran watched him, too far gone to be sorry about waking them. His world was falling apart. It had fallen apart so long ago, and he'd marched his way through the ashes because he'd had to. It had been life or death. And now everyone was happy except for him. He'd saved lives by destroying his own, but in the end not everyone could be saved. The time witch had long ago told him that making the choice to stay in Clow meant he would never see his parents again. He had been young. He couldn't have imagined it would end like this. Hurt so much.

Strong hands gently took his fingers out of his hair as he cried. Ever so slowly Wrennen leaned him so that he rested against the man's chest instead of the wall. Syaoran's hands grasped at his nightshirt, hanging on like his life depended on it.

The two of them didn't move until his tears stopped, the first streaks of sunrise coloring the horizon.

Syaoran shuffled around the apartment in a daze. Wrennen wasn't following him exactly, but the man was keeping him in his sights at all times.

They hadn't spoken at all. None of them had. There was not much of a point. There was no way for Syaoran to explain anything he'd gone though, and honestly, he didn't want to. He felt hollowed out, his heart sore and his head fuzzy. His eyes were dry and puffy. He moved around listlessly, never really comfortable. A good chunk of his time was spent feeding last night's dinner scraps to the lizards that came up to the kitchen window.

Briina had been outside most of the morning, not letting anyone out onto the balcony. Wrennen seemed to understand. Syaoran didn't ask.

It was some time after lunch, Syaoran could only stomach a few bites no matter how good the food was, that he noticed something was missing.

Suddenly a little more alert, he hurried over to where the ward usually hung by the door.

It wasn't on its hook.

"Wrennen…?" He asked nervously. Now that he noticed, he could tell there was a lack of protective magic pushing through the house. There was, however, some stronger than normal magic being tugged around outside.

The tired man came to his side and placed his hand on Syaoran's shoulder. Gave him a smile that only reassured him slightly.

"Briina wrommen wa meonah le ha," He said softly, gesturing to the front door. Then he gave the boy a slight nudge in that direction and nodded to continue.

Syaoran wasn't sure why he was allowed outside now when they'd been specifically keeping him in the house all morning. He was too drained to bother asking. He cautiously crept the door open, hoping he wasn't disturbing Briina. The sight that awaited him wasn't what he would have expected.

The balcony was littered with tiny pots of incense, wisps of mildly fragrant smoke wavering off into the breeze. Candles were scattered in patterns in an inner circle. In the center was Briina, hunched over what Syaoran recognized as the ward. She had a paintbrush in her hand and was slowly painting over each symbol with a clear liquid. It wasn't water. Syaoran could tell that it had been cleansed or blessed or was in some way sacred. It was held in a small bowl, the lightest purple designs lining the inside.

Briina looked up and Syaoran felt caught.

Then she smiled at him. It was a small, weary smile, but it put him at ease. She held her finger to her lips and beckoned him to join her. He stepped out onto the balcony, the sun-warmed wood smooth under his bare feet. He curiously made his way over to where she sat, taking great care not to disturb anything.

Everything was quiet. Even the birds singing felt far away.

Briina pushed herself back slightly and made room for him in front of the ward paper. She patted the spot and Syaoran hesitated.

She patiently patted again.

Syaoran slunk down into the spot. The pregnant woman reached around him and held out the brush for him to take. The boy picked it up respectfully. Briina shifted behind him so that she could guide his hand in hers.

Together they painted the ward, over and over, Syaoran's mind clearing with each stroke.

Briina let go of his hand then, the bowl nearly empty. She took the brush from him and set it aside in a box. He didn't dare move, lest he mess up some ending ritual. Briina stood and carefully picked the scroll up by its woven hanger. The moment it left the wood, the candles blew themselves out. Syaoran watched, wide eyed and still, as she knelt down in front of him.

The woman dipped her finger in the last of the bowl's contents, just a drop. She brought her hand up and gently touched it to his forehead.

It wasn't enough to burn, but the liquid was unexpectedly hot.

Even more unexpected was the strange shift that happened inside him. Like some part of him had slipped out of place somewhere along the way and it had now fallen back where it was meant to be. His body still felt generally awful from the long night of crying, but his heart felt a little less…rattled.

Briina pressed a kiss on the top of his head before getting up and heading inside, leaving Syaoran with his thoughts.

Nirai Kanai fudged me up guys. Hearing Tsubasa say he was sick of fighting and didn't want to do it anymore hurt me. And Syaoran's endless support. Ouch.