You know, the thing about the rags-to-riches fairytales is that the heroes must have the 'rags' part of the story first. And no matter how much we love them, we can't spare Sakura and Syaoran their turn.
Enjoy!
The first month of Queen Madoushi's reign seemed like an unending trial for Kinomoto Sakura. Every time she turned around, something she had thought was familiar had grown strange. The transition from being an honored member of the castle household to amongst the lowest of servants was sudden, and it was often troubling.
Of course, most of the possessions that had belonged to the Kinomoto family had been removed shortly after Madoushi's arrival, but Fujitaka had cleverly managed to rescue a precious few for each of his children and himself: a beloved book, a hair clip given from mother to daughter, an heirloom crest of the Kinomoto family, a hand-woven blanket birthday gift, and a few special talismans. He had also taken the plainest of his own and Sakura's clothing to disguise them amidst the serving class, and he and Sakura both worked to reduce the finer garments to those appropriate to their new station.
Fujitaka had also, by some miracle, managed to rescue a few items belonging to Syaoran as well, and the wide bafflement in the boy's eyes was all the thanks he could ever have wanted for his daring. Syaoran had arrived in the Kingdom of Clow with so little, Fujitaka could not ask him to proceed with nothing of his own heritage. So Syaoran was able to keep and hide his ceremonial robes from his family, a letter from his mother, a pair of books in his own written language, and the hanging Sakura had made for his birthday.
All of these Syaoran kept hidden in the small wooden room Fujitaka and Sakura began to share in the servants' quarters beneath the kitchen. It had been an empty room awaiting new servants, so it was a simple exercise in saying nothing that allowed them to claim it as though they had always had its use. However, Syaoran was clearly not related to the pair, and Fujitaka was not enough of a dissembler to concoct a plausible reason for the boy to belong to him. So Syaoran had been assigned quarters with the other boy pages and errand-runners and such. Their low, communal room was beneath the stairs that led to up to the kitchen, which meant Syaoran was never far from the Kinomotos. But because he could not trust even one of his new roommates, he kept everything he valued in the tiny private room under Sakura's bed.
And when, in that first week, he woke from sleep in a cold sweat, nightmares of failure and loss and death tearing at his mind, he crept to that room and slept on the floor with his back to the door and Sakura and Fujitaka understood and welcomed him without saying a word.
Each day they rose with the other servants just before dawn to begin their chores. Fujitaka, as a scribe, was tasked with record-keeping and accounting and documentation, and he would spend his entire day from sunrise to twilight in a cramped room off the back of the library, writing and translating and drafting and calculating until his fingers were cramped from use and stained with ink.
Syaoran's duties varied depending on the day and the temper of the pagemaster and housekeeper. Sometimes he was employed as a messenger, sent out into the kingdom with proclamations or to collect information, and then he might be gone well into the night and return exhausted from running at his best speed for miles throughout the countryside. Sometimes he found himself assigned to annoying and menial tasks like polishing all the weapons and armor of every member of the castle's guard, and he would be punished if he missed even a single smudge. He also carted firewood all over the castle – all but to the queen's own chambers, where she warmed herself magically.
Syaoran was regularly irritated with his tasks, but he did find value in them. The running and carrying would make him much, much stronger in body as well as in discipline, and regular exposure to the weaponry gave him snatches of opportunities to practice with them. He might have preferred to have been named one of the 'special' pages who was trusted above the others with complicated missions or even secret messages, but then he was sure he would come to the attention of the queen much more quickly. So Syaoran kept his eyes to the floor and barely spoke a word to the other boys or the staff, and while he always did an acceptable job, he never gave them reason to single him out.
It was different for Sakura.
The castle had always hosted a fair number of under-maids and such servants to handle the vast amount of work required for such a large household, but the sudden appearance of Madoushi left the serving class in great disarray. The queen had very demanding, elaborate specifications for everything from clothing to banquets, and her orders fell hardest on the young women at the very bottom of the castle's social hierarchy. And, of course, because no one remembered that Madoushi was newly-arrived to the castle, the people assumed that things had run smoothly before and now it was the servants doing less work, rather than the workload itself having more than doubled.
Therefore, as Sakura was the newest maid in the castle, and clearly was not familiar with what should have been her routine duties, she was often given the worst tasks and left to blame for work undone.
They had been servants in the castle for less than two weeks when Sakura returned to the room she shared with her father long after he had finished the day's work and retreated with a simple supper. Syaoran, too, had collected his meal and brought it to the room rather than eat with the other boys. But Sakura had been so late, neither had touched their food for worry.
Sakura pushed open the door slowly, her voice low. "I'm here."
At the mark on her left cheek, Fujitaka shot to his feet, but he was not faster than Syaoran who crossed the room in a blur. He slammed the door shut behind Sakura and stared at the bruise with enough fire in his heart to burn the entire castle to the ground.
Under Syaoran's scrutiny, Sakura flushed with embarrassment. She raised a hand to hide the mark and looked away. "It's nothing," she said, and made some attempt at lightness.
But Syaoran caught her hand and pulled it down, drawing her into the room until she stood between him and Fujitaka. It was only then he realized Sakura was without supper, obviously an additional punishment.
Fujitaka brushed his fingers over her hair. "Please tell me what happened."
Sakura's chin shook very slightly. "I was...assigned to mend one of the tablecloths. But...I guess my stitching wasn't neat enough. They...they made me stay until I fixed it."
Sakura closed her eyes and took several deep, trembling breaths. Over her head, Fujitaka and Syaoran exchanged glances. Syaoran was furious, at much at his own inability to have done anything to prevent the hurt to Sakura's heart as for the actual blow struck to her body.
Fujitaka was angry, too, but his anger had an additional source. When Fujitaka had been Steward over the kingdom, no one ever raised a hand to a servant, especially a child. Everyone in the castle had been cared for, none worked beyond their abilities. Of course if someone was not suited to their duties, they would be released to find work elsewhere, but never, never was violence a means of maintaining standards.
Not only had the people forgotten Clow, but they had been spelled to Madoushi's way of thinking. Now the kingdom lived with the memory of a thousand years beneath a ruler who condoned harshness and cruelty, and here were the marks such authority left on its most helpless.
With a determined shake, Sakura lifted her head and blinked her eyes, managing a more genuine smile, though it was still brittle. "I'll do better next time. It was my fault to start with."
But Fujitaka wrapped his arms around his daughter. "No matter the mistakes you make, no one should ever hurt you. I'm so sorry, Sakura. I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault either, Father," Sakura said. "Don't be sorry that we're here."
Syaoran wordlessly split his portion of supper in half and pushed one half towards her. Fujitaka released her and added a piece of bread of his own with a nod to Syaoran, and by mutual, unspoken agreement, they began their meal and spoke on more cheerful subjects.
But that night, after Sakura had fallen asleep, Syaoran crept back into the Kinomotos' room to find Fujitaka awake, staring at his daughter by the light of one single candle.
"How can I do this to either of you?" he whispered to the boy. "How can I ask you to live like this, all for the sake of a hope we don't even know will ever come true?"
Syaoran drew himself up. "Give us seven years, please. By then, her magic and my own should have grown strong enough to escape and survive by ourselves if that's the best we can do. At the end of seven years, I will take her away from here and you can do whatever you have to in order to rescue your son and Yukito."
Syaoran supposed he might have offered it the other way around, that he would use his strength to save the imprisoned pair and Fujitaka could take Sakura and run, but that would mean Syaoran leaving Sakura's side and he could not promise that. No matter what.
Fujitaka nodded. "Very well. But if it becomes too much...if she gets hurt…"
"Then we'll go sooner," Syaoran said, and he felt the conviction like a burst of heat in his chest.
Fujitaka looked at Syaoran for a long moment. "I'm asking so much more of you than I should. You're as much a child as she is."
"No, I'm not. I was raised to be the heir to the Li Clan."
"I suppose that's true. You would never have been a child in your own home." Fujitaka sighed. "Thank you for your strength. I think we all will need it. I agree to your plan. Seven years, unless Sakura is at risk before then. I won't abandon Touya, but I cannot let her spirit be broken here, either."
In the low light, neither of them saw Sakura flinch from what she had overheard.
-==OOO==-
By the end of the first month as part of the servant class, Sakura managed to settle into her new life. Though still clumsy at times, she had proved willing to work hard even through her mistakes and she comported herself respectfully. Her sewing did not improve markedly, but one of the cooks decided she liked Sakura's cheerful prattle and so assigned her regular duties in the kitchen, from cleaning platters and pans to cutting vegetables and watching pots at the fire. She might still be called upon to scrub floors or even run a few errands of her own, but mostly Sakura found herself filling the role of a kitchen helper and scullery maid more and more often.
This was a great relief to both Fujitaka who knew the cooking staff well and thought them to be a bit more fair-minded than some of the maids, and to Syaoran, who was often in or about the kitchen area with his own duties and therefore he could be closer to her.
The other advantage of working in the kitchens was that it spared Sakura from another form of heartbreak.
For, just as Madoushi had declared, none remembered the Kinomoto family. Including Daidoji Tomoyo, once Sakura's cousin and closest friend.
Their first meeting after the curse occurred in the gardens at dusk; Sakura had been ordered to gather some lavender that grew between the kitchen gardens and the formal castle gardens. It happened that Syaoran was outside not far away, cording wood to be carried inside, so he could watch their interaction.
Sakura spied Tomoyo from across the lavender and had called out excitedly, "Tomoyo! Good evening!"
The dark-haired girl turned, her head tipping delicately at the familiar use of her name. "Good evening. Can I help you?"
Sakura waved. "Tomoyo! Are you doing well? I haven't seen you since…" Suddenly the light in her smile died.
Syaoran abandoned his task and started towards her.
Tomoyo was a gentle girl of sincere spirit and good manners, so she did not even frown at the strange person speaking to her so casually. "Excuse me, but I don't believe I recall your name."
Sakura's face had gone pale. "It's...Sakura."
"That's a lovely name," Tomoyo said politely. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I have met you before."
Syaoran reached Sakura's side and his presence steadied her. Sakura shook her head and smiled a little too brightly. "No, I'm sorry for speaking out of turn. I...I had a dear friend by that name once, and you reminded me of her. That's all."
Tomoyo's head dipped a little in understanding. "I assume you must miss her greatly to make such a mistake."
Sakura nodded. "I do. I didn't realize how much until right now."
Tomoyo smiled. "I hope you have fond memories of her to keep you company until you can see her again."
Sakura's smile lost some of its false brightness. "I do. Thank you. I'm sorry I interrupted you." Then she turned to Syaoran. "Do you...do you need help with the wood?"
Syaoran understood that Sakura needed an escape, and needed something to distract her or her feelings would bubble to the surface. So he nodded. "Yes. Thanks."
Sakura joined Syaoran in the stacks of firewood, wordlessly cording bundles and rubbing at her eyes. Syaoran found a scrap of cloth in a pocket and handed it to her.
"I'm sorry," was all he said.
"Thank you." She wiped at her eyes and managed to catch the few tears she could not hold inside. But that simple comfort of a friend who understood her pain helped her breathe and hold back any others that might have threatened to fall.
An hour later, Sakura was scolded for her lateness returning with the lavender, but her feelings were under control and Syaoran's makeshift handkerchief was still tucked in her pocket, a source of refuge and courage she held onto for many days afterwards.
-==OOO==-
As difficult as the adjustment proved to be for Sakura, however, it was vastly more unhappy for her brother Touya.
The dungeons in the castle had been built in the kingdom's infancy when Clow Reed was still teaching his people his meaning of peace, and while they were entirely inescapable, they had not been meant to be torturous in nature. The rooms were large and appointed with proper furniture, not mere benches for beds. They even had small water pumps in them to ensure those imprisoned would not be without water any time they chose. True, the rooms had only the smallest grate high on the wall in order to see the sky above, and they were isolated from one another such that prisoners in any cell were unable to communicate with those in another cell, but they were stocked with blankets and good lanterns.
However, the cells were also magically locked and warded. Rather than barred doors or caged openings, the entire front of each cell was an almost unbroken pane of what looked like glass. This glass was ornamented with regular swirls of metallic threads and tiny golden beads. But the delicate nature of the enclosure belied its powerful enchantments. The cells had been designed by Clow himself to contain magic within, and to physically imprison anyone who entered them.
They had not been used within the Kingdom of Clow for a century, but one was used now.
When Yukito first awoke, dizzy and disoriented, he blinked at the face above him. "T...Touya?"
"Easy," Touya said, resting a hand on Yukito's chest. "You took a bad hit."
Not me, Yukito thought. Yue.
But deep in his mind, Yue was nearly absent, so spent and exhausted were his powers. Yukito did not need Yue to tell him that it would be unwise to call attention to his presence; memories of the battle against Madoushi filtered into Yukito's mind, enough for him to understand. Yue was alive, but badly drained of power. He would not have the strength to resist Madoushi now as Keroberos and the Six Keepers had. Should Madoushi realize that Yukito was actually concealing Yue within, they would both be lost.
So Yukito merely nodded to silently tell Touya he understood the ruse they would have to employ. "Are you all right?" he asked.
Touya grimaced. "I'm not hurt."
Yukito remembered the body of High Priestess Nadeshiko. "I'm so sorry, Touya."
The boy looked away. "It's not your fault. It's been a week. I've...gotten used to it."
Yukito doubted that, but he opted not to say as much. Instead, he looked around and blinked. "Why are we together?"
One half of Touya's mouth turned up slightly. "The guards threw you in here when you were unconscious. I broke loose and went after you. They decided it would be too much trouble to bring down the barrier and have to put another one up, and that...person told them the wards would hold against the two of us so they left me here with you."
Yukito frowned. Even if he himself had no gift for magic, he knew through Yue that Touya was possessed of remarkable magical powers. The barriers in the cells had been losing strength just like all of Clow's other magic. Touya should have been well able to defeat the barrier in his current state – unless something else was wrong.
Touya read the frown and shrugged. "That curse she cast took a lot out of me."
"It shouldn't have," Yukito said before he could stop himself.
Touya quirked an eyebrow at him. "Better me than...someone else."
"Oh." Now Yukito understood his meaning: Touya was using most of his strength to protect Sakura and his father, and possibly Li Syaoran as well. To do so against Madoushi's curse, and to mask their magical signatures, and to do it all from within Clow's own cell – yes, that would take a great deal out of even Touya. "I see."
"Good." Touya stepped back from the bed. "You'd better get up. We'll be having a visit soon."
"We will?" Yukito found his glasses on a shelf beside the bed and drew them on. "Who will be visiting? Is it Sakura?" He wanted to see for himself if the cheerful child was safe and unharmed.
Touya shook his head. "No. An entirely different kind of monster."
Yukito had only just pulled himself to his feet and straightened his clothing when the intimidating figure of Madoushi appeared in the corridor beyond the warding.
"Confinement suits you," she said in her cold voice.
Touya stepped close to the ward and looked up into her eyes without fear, but said nothing. Yukito fell in beside him and peered at the being who had commanded such power and who had done such terrible things to the land he had sworn to protect.
"I see you are awake," she said, her gaze sliding from Touya to Yukito. "Will you tell me your name?"
Touya stiffened ever so slightly, and Yukito understood his warning. So he remained silent and simply stared at Madoushi.
"Very well." Her lips curled with distaste. "So be it. However, I have come to ask a question and I will be answered this time. Will either of you surrender what powers you have to me?"
Touya's jaw unclenched only barely enough to say, "No."
Beside him, Yukito lifted his chin and also answered, "No."
Madoushi scowled. "Vile, repugnant disobedience! Then rot here for another week. When I return, I expect you to have a different answer for me!"
And she swept away, robes swirling behind her.
When she had vanished down the corridor, Touya's shoulders fell slightly and he let out a breath. Yukito guessed that it took extra effort for Touya to hide his magic – and his continuing use of it – from her when she was so near to him. And yet somehow he managed it.
In all his years of life, for Yukito was nearly as old as Yue himself and had lived among the household of the castle for decades as Yue's power faded, Yukito had not known another with such power since Clow Reed himself.
"Why do you do this?" he asked.
"Because I won't give in to the wrong thing," Touya said.
"I wasn't referring to submitting to Madoushi."
"Neither was I."
Yukito didn't know how to respond to that, so he simply nodded. "Tell me what I missed."
So Touya moved farther into the room to perch on one of the chairs and told Yukito how Kinomoto Fujitaka had managed to sneak into the dungeon just once, long enough to speak quickly with his son. How Touya had hinted to his father what he was doing with his magic, and Fujitaka had confirmed that Sakura and the Key were safe. How their visit had been cut short when Fujitaka had been caught by the guards and was forbidden to return or risk being thrown in a cell himself. How none came into the dungeon now but a serving girl with a tray of food, half of which Touya had been saving for Yukito, waiting until he woke.
When Yukito heard that much, he found himself to be ravenous with hunger, which was familiar when Yue was tired – one of Yukito's functions was to eat large quantities of food to sustain Yue in times when the moon was lean or his magic was frail. Touya produced the saved food, much of it hard and cold after many days, but Yukito ate every crumb anyway, adding a silent prayer that it might give Yue some of his strength.
When he was finished, Yukito was appalled to realize he was growing sleepy. He rubbed his eyes behind his glasses and sighed. "I think...I should rest a bit more."
Touya nodded. "I know. Don't worry about it." He pointed to the wide bed. "Sleep as much as you need to. There's not a lot else to do down here. I could use a nap, too."
Yukito peered at the boy. Touya was only fifteen years old. And yet he was able to maintain his magical protection in spite of the cell while asleep. Or perhaps such effort left him as tired as attempting to sustain Yue left Yukito.
There was something about Kinomoto Touya that had always confounded Yue, and that same something had always intrigued Yukito. Touya had long possessed enough magic to break the Seal on the Key, and yet he had consistently refused to do so. But Touya – and High Priestess Nadeshiko, for that matter – had always been so sure that Touya was following the correct path by refraining from utilizing his strength in that way. Yue had found it infuriating to be so close to one who could have restored him; instead, Yukito was profoundly curious.
But he rose from the table without asking. This was simply more proof of the boy's powers, and it would bear thinking about after he was rested. Considering the length of time the pair of them were likely to be trapped together down here, perhaps this was a mystery Yukito would be able to unravel if he showed patience.
"Would you like me to sleep on that bench?" Yukito asked. After all, though human in thought and body, he was not in fact human and felt he should defer to the boy who was far younger than him and who had already done him a good turn by collecting food for him.
Touya rolled his eyes. "It's big enough for two and I don't care. You need to sleep as much as I do, or one or both of us will disappear. I can put up with it if you can."
Yukito nodded. But still, settling in beside the boy was...strange. For as much as Yukito had tended to spend time with Kinomoto Touya from a young age – because Yue had wanted to watch him – something was different now.
Yue has never been so quiet within me before, Yukito thought. I could almost be a regular human now, with human thoughts. Just...more years of life.
As he pulled a thick blanket up over himself, noting that Touya did not sleep beneath any covering and wondering if that were a personal preference or something to do with keeping a part of himself awake through the discomfort of the cell's cold to sustain his magic, Yukito was struck by an odd thought.
If Yue continues to remain so quiet, will I become more human after all?
But he fell into a dreamless sleep before he could even begin to speculate.
Their time in the cell together began to take on certain patterns. Madoushi returned approximately once a week to again demand that the pair give their magic to her, and no matter how many times she came or how angrily she spoke, neither of them said a word aloud to her, not even their names, other than the word, "No." This they said to her each and every time without fail.
Yukito slept more than he ever had before in his long, inhuman life, but Touya slept very little. Many times Yukito would wake to find the boy lying still on the bed with his eyes open, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. However, the lack of sleep did not seem to trouble him – in fact, the first time Touya slept for many hours deeply, he woke in a near panic. Yukito understood that Touya's magic was strong enough to keep him well on very little rest, but he could not bear to falter in his protection for even an instant. After that, Yukito did not trouble the boy about his lack of sleep.
After three months, the errand girl who had carried meals to them twice a day was replaced by Sakura.
"Big Brother!" A blur raced down the corridor to them.
Touya was on his feet and as close to the spelled glass as he could get without actually touching it in an instant. "Sakura. Are you all right?" he asked and there was a sharp, tight note in his voice.
Yukito joined Touya just as Sakura came to a halt before them and dropped the tray she had been carrying with a loud clatter. He took in her shabby clothing and her reddened hands, clearly growing hard from work. There was a dark smudge of something on her forehead and the mark of a burn on one of her forearms, but there was light in her eyes.
"I'm okay. Are you okay, Big Brother?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?" Sakura's green eyes were huge.
"Yes."
"Really, really sure?"
Touya bent so that his dark eyes could meet hers evenly. "I'm all right, Sakura."
Sakura sniffed slightly as tears gathered. "I'm so glad. I was worried."
Touya did not speak, but Yukito knew the boy well enough to see that he was still worried, though he did not ask.
Sakura suddenly realized Touya wasn't alone. "Yukito! Are you okay?"
Yukito knelt so he was also closer to her height. "Yes. We are taking care of one another here. What about your Father? And Li Syaoran?"
Sakura wiped the tears from her eyes with a sleeve. "They're doing well. I mean, none of us are happy, but we're okay. We're not hurt." She looked back up to Touya. "Because of you."
Touya nodded. Then he peered at her more intently. "You're keeping it safe and with you at all times?"
Sakura's hands closed over her chest. "Yes. Syaoran keeps his, too. I wanted to thank you, Big Brother. For protecting him, not just me."
Touya scowled, but he refrained from saying anything about the boy. "Just make sure you don't lose it, little monster."
"I won't!" And that indignant, furious pout made Yukito laugh. He rose, catching Touya's eye as he did so – yes, obviously even now Touya was utilizing his special gift for annoying his little sister to cheer her up, even if she never realized it.
"Did you bring us something?" Touya asked before Sakura could get any more worked up.
"Oh! Yes! It's your supper, but, uh...Father thought you might need something. He says it should be able to pass through the magical barrier." Sakura lifted the tray again. "It's all he could find for now, but he promises to send more later."
Yukito saw the simple game of cards and dice on the tray beside the basket of bread – much fuller than usual, too – and smiled. "Please thank your Father. I will be glad of some way to pass the time."
"That's what he thought, too," Sakura smiled at him. "So...how do I...?"
Touya held out his hands. "Just push the tray through. As long as there's no magic in it, you shouldn't feel anything from your side."
Sakura nodded and did as told, surprised and pleased when the tray passed through the barrier as though it were not there at all. But before her own fingers could reach the magic, Touya pulled the tray out of her grip.
"Be careful not to touch it," Yukito advised. "You may become trapped like us."
Touya glanced at him with a warning look, but shrugged. "Thank you for the food."
"You're welcome."
Then he glared at her. "But don't give us your own portion again, Sakura."
Sakura flushed and looked away. "I...I get to eat a bit in the kitchen when I'm working, and father always shares with me and so does Syaoran, and when I saw how little was on your tray I was worried because I know how much Yukito always used to eat and you need your strength too and…"
"And you need yours," Touya said firmly.
But Yukito smiled at her. "Thank you for thinking of us. But your brother will worry if you give up your food for us. He will be happier if he knows you are eating well. Especially because you are working so hard."
Sakura looked at her feet but nodded. "I understand." Then she suddenly shook herself and looked up with a bright smile. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. If I am late, they won't let me be the one to do this again. But I will try my best to be the one to visit you every day."
"If it's you trying," Yukito found himself telling her, "then I'm sure you will succeed."
Touya handed the tray to Yukito and crouched low to look into Sakura's face. "Don't do anything reckless, and don't let that kid get you into trouble."
Sakura nodded. "I'll be careful. Thank you. And I love you, Big Brother."
Touya nodded. "Get going. And eat your food this time, Sakura."
"I will. See you tomorrow!" And she sped off down the corridor.
But as they sat down to eat, Yukito looked across to Touya. "There's something you're not telling her. And you're not telling me, either."
"You're right." Touya bit into a roll – one Yukito was certain had been added by Sakura.
"Will you tell me someday?"
"Someday, maybe." And that was clearly the end of the discussion, as Touya rather adeptly pretended to be aloof and unconcerned with Yukito's curiosity.
Well, Yukito had lived a long, long life waiting for Clow's heir. He could wait a bit longer for Touya's secret.
-==OOO==-
Time passed for those whose lives had been irrevocably changed, and soon months became years. What had been strange became commonplace.
Fujitaka managed the castle's accounts and records, and his quiet reliability led him to be able to work almost without oversight from anyone. He was also soon a familiar sight throughout the vast library, locating information or checking historical documents. As scrutiny of his actions slowly faded, Fujitaka took his chances and began researching certain things on his own when none were around, particularly the writings of Clow Reed himself, to seek a means of either defeating Madoushi or of freeing his son. And while he uncovered a great many secrets, he did not find his answers.
However, Fujitaka also devised a method of communicating with Touya through Sakura's daily visits without the girl's knowledge. Each week, he would send Touya a new pack of cards or a small book – nothing that would arouse suspicion – but tucked within would be a note containing a question and the code to an answer. When Sakura returned each day thereafter, Touya would mention a specific card, or a page in the book, and this would be his answer to his father. When Sakura would report her conversation with Touya, Fujitaka would gain the information he sought.
As their codes developed over the years, the pair learned to speak almost an entirely different language with Sakura as their unwitting translator. Touya was as unable to find an adequate solution to their situation as his father, and that worried them both. Surely something, the hope Nadeshiko had carried to her end, should have come to pass by now. But neither Fujitaka's research nor Touya's own magic and gift of foresight proved able to discern a way out of their predicament.
The pair could have conversed through Sakura without the code but for the fact that neither of them wished to worry her with their doubts. The code had begun as a means to ensure their communications were not intercepted or monitored, but as years passed, it became yet another way Touya and his father protected Sakura from the world in which they were trapped. For neither could have lived if her cheerful smile had died.
But it did not. Sakura's own determination to help her family by remaining cheerful held her up, and even when she felt she was breaking on the inside, she made herself stay happy and upbeat for the sake of those who watched her so closely. It was easiest with her father and Touya, for while both were keenly observant, she saw them only twice a day, morning and night, and her father, at least, was usually exhausted and his eyes were weary from the many documents and low light of his room.
In the winter after Sakura had turned ten years old, however, her composure broke during a particularly cold day when she had been sent into the village below the castle to procure some spices. Sakura's dresses were paper-thin, her cloak scarcely better, and there were holes in her shoes. On her returning trip, she had fallen into a drift of muddy, icy snow, and her bravery had crumpled. Sakura had buried her head in the snow and wept as though she would never stop.
But after only a few minutes, she felt a touch on her shoulder and lifted her eyes to see Syaoran's face torn with worry above her.
Sakura did not explain; there was nothing to explain. But she allowed Syaoran to draw her into his arms and hold her against his chest while she sobbed. And his comfort and warmth and shelter, none of which had anything to do with the weather, soothed her aching heart. Syaoran produced in his pocket another makeshift handkerchief, and when her tears had washed away her hopelessness, she tucked it into her dress beside the first which she had never relinquished.
"If you are sad, you don't have to cry alone," Syaoran said softly as he held her tightly. "I understand why you don't want your Father or brother to see. But you...you shouldn't hide it from me."
Sakura nodded against him. Then she looked up, her green eyes watery and the light in them lost as though deep within a turbulent pond. "You don't have to hide it from me, either, Syaoran. If you need to cry, I'll do anything to help if I can."
Syaoran smiled a little at her. "As long as you do not cry alone, then I have nothing to cry about. All I need is for you to be cheerful, and when you can't be cheerful, for you to come to me. You can...you can always trust me."
A new warmth and gratitude bloomed in Sakura's heart and she smiled back at him, a real smile, not the false cheerful one she had practiced so often. "I do trust you. Thank you."
That was also the day, as they walked back to the castle again, that Syaoran revealed to Sakura something he had been keeping very, very secret.
"I've been slowly trying to practice my magic again," he said.
Sakura gasped. "But she'll sense you!"
Syaoran shook his head. "That's why the first thing I've been practicing is my own shielding and warding. It's not very strong yet, but it's enough for me to make these."
He held out several strips of a dark yellow papery cloth inscribed with symbols in his own language.
"What are they?" Sakura asked. She remembered seeing them when Syaoran practiced his magic before Madoushi, but had never asked about them.
"Elemental ofuda. They make it easier for me to invoke the elements without draining my own magic. I've been making them ever since I figured out how much energy I need in order to shield so she can't feel them being created."
Syaoran didn't admit that he had nearly been caught more than once by the white birds that were Madoushi's heralds and spies throughout the kingdom. Only his quickness and Touya's power had kept the tiny spark of magic from being traced to him. Syaoran had had to work carefully to ensure that he did not drain Kinomoto Touya's strength too much while testing his own abilities, and after much, much practice, he had learned to dovetail his protections with Touya's almost seamlessly.
"What will you do with them?" Sakura wanted to know.
"Nothing for now," Syaoran said. "But I'll make as many as I can any time I'm away from the castle. Then, when the time comes, I'll be ready."
He had been training with his sword as well, sometimes even late at night if he could not sleep; he would creep into the Kinomoto's tiny room and run his body through the drills that had once been second-nature, holding a broom when he could not summon his sword itself. Sakura never seemed to wake, but Syaoran knew Fujitaka was aware of his nocturnal practice.
"Just be careful, please," Sakura begged. "If she found out and locked you away…"
"She won't," Syaoran told her, meaning it with all his heart. "I won't let her take me where I can't protect you. I promise."
"I wish I could help," Sakura said then, turning away. "If I had enough magic to shield, maybe together we could be strong enough and Big Brother could…"
Syaoran shook his head. "Worrying about it won't help. True magic only comes when your heart and your energy can flow freely. I know...I know your Mother believed in you. Don't give up yet."
This seemed to reassure her, but Syaoran was concerned. He knew Sakura carried at least some magic within, and he also remembered the secret he had sworn to keep for the High Priestess. His own magic was growing steadily as he aged, and his estimation of seven years to Fujitaka was seeming to be an overestimation rather than the opposite.
But from what Syaoran could sense, Sakura's magic had not grown at all. In fact, it was even harder to perceive now than it had been years prior. And what that meant, he couldn't begin to fathom.
However, his words had cheered her up, and Sakura felt her own will to endure return. By the time they reached the castle, Syaoran's ofuda carefully returned to his place against his chest along with his sword pendant and another of his makeshift handkerchiefs in Sakura's own pocket, Sakura was feeling light and hopeful once more.
It eased Syaoran's own heart to see it. And he vowed anew to learn and develop his magic as quickly as was possible safely so that he could save Sakura from this life as soon as he was strong enough to do so without risking the rest of the family. As long as Syaoran was careful and patient, he was sure he would be able to gain the power needed before Madoushi ever suspected him of it.
No one could have guessed how wrong he was.
