A / N : Well, I'll bet that none of you ever believed that I'd update again, did you? It has been a ridiculously long time, I'll admit. Over two years. That must be some sort of record in update length! Well, turns out that this instalment makes the first chapter look like a tiny little oneshot. Prepare yourselves for a long, long read (almost 20 000 words long, to be exact). I never imagined it to be this long, but this is what happens after two years' worth of off-and-on writing. Simply ridiculous...
I can't believe the response this fic has gotten and I want to thank everyone who reviewed. Boundless thanks to -Kori Kage Tenshi- for being the first one to review this story, and also to hellokittychic, cuteauthor07, Veil of Ignorance, pokingpersonsaysboo, Nina Windia, Rika-Chan, beautiful fire warrior, LadyInu1126, lIlSAKlI, Tropical Sun, Sapphire Light, Wallpaper, Look At Her, Wolf Jade, Mewy, Onigiri Momoko, summershine, Kesshou Uryou, big dreamer girl, Sarahh Jane, pali167, Stars Fantasy, xSimplyjust, Reality Wish, No Pen Name, Lovewish, ccs's cherry blossom, BipolarPenguins, beanaroony, angelicat123 and Artificial Happiness. Huggles to you all!
Anyway, here is the next and FINAL instalment of B-L-A-C-K. I hope you all enjoy it, because it's been written with a LOT of TLC.
:D
B - L - A - C - K
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p a r t · ii : a · t e a c h e r ' s · m i r a c l e
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Respected cousin,
It is with great regret that after many years of partnership work, that I part from my home city, and will not be returning for a while –
I shook my head, frowning. I crossed out that line, and began again, trying to think.
My dear cousin, I tried again. After much thought and consideration, I have decided to return –
Still no good. I made another line across it, trying to think. How was it that after all these years, I still didn't know how to write a proper letter?
Dear cousin of mine, I wrote tentatively, before blotting it out completely. The entire sheet of paper was covered in scratches and crossed-out lines. Scowling, I picked up the paper, scrunched it into a ball and tossed it into an already overflowing wastepaper basket, result of a fruitless afternoon, trying to put my feelings onto paper – and failing miserably.
What was I supposed to do? I hadn't slept soundly since I left Tomoeda almost ten years ago. But lately, I hadn't been able to sleep at all – and if I did, I always saw the same thing.
An old woman, sitting by an ancient tree on top of a hill. Her silvery hair still had flames of red in them, and her eyes were still clear and green. Still staring blankly into nothingness, wide open, yet still closed. Her fingers, gnarled and shaking, forming words I recognized with a jolt in my stomach, words I had taught her so many years ago…
Teacher…where are you…?
And I would awaken from this dream over and over again, unwilling to believe that I had left her to a life of darkness and shadows.
Promise me you'll never give up on me.
I promise.
A simple promise, made nearly fifteen years ago, one I'd always kept, but still ominously rang in my ears like a death knell even now. My memory wasn't as good as it was ten years ago, but when it comes to her, I remember everything clearly.
Dear Meiling,
You will be happy to know that the teacher is finally returning to the student…
I remember the phone call. It was a rainy, dreary Monday afternoon, and I was getting ready to pack up and leave the office. Then the phone rang.
"Hello?" I'd asked.
"Is this Li Syaoran?" It was a woman, and from the sound of it, she was almost in tears.
"Why yes it is, ma'am," I said politely. "However may I help you?"
There was a pause, before the woman spoke again, her voice tighter, although I could hear the definite tremble.
"I understand that you are a teacher for blind-deaf students?"
I straightened. Obviously this lady couldn't be from China. No Chinese person would be able to phone me for blind-deaf assistance without wetting themselves in laughter.
"Yes I am," I replied cautiously. "Would you be calling in the interest of someone close to you?"
I distinctly heard a sniffle on the other end.
"Yes," she said. "It's for my daughter. She lost her sight and hearing twelve years ago, in a car accident. The doctors said that time might heal everything, but we've waited so long…there's no hope as to when she'll regain her sight or hearing."
I nodded. "I understand," I said. "Now, madam –"
"Nadeshiko," the woman interrupted. "Nadeshiko Kinomoto."
Japanese, I thought. "Where do you live?" I inquired.
"Oh," Mrs. Kinomoto seemed taken aback. "Tomoeda. In Japan."
In Japan. I let out a sigh. "Mrs. Kinomoto, I can refer you to some of the leading specialists close to your area," I said carefully. "But as you know, I live all the way in Hong Kong. It is rather out of the area for me."
"Wouldn't it be possible to – to send my daughter to Hong Kong, to your school, Mr. Li?" Mrs. Kinomoto asked desperately. "We've tried everywhere in Japan. No one has the time or patience to put up with her. I've heard that you are the best, and…I can't bear to see my daughter going on like this."
"I'm very sorry," I repeated. "I am a private tutor, if you could call it that. And it is foolish to send your daughter so far away from home. Very truly, Mrs. Kinomoto, this is in the best interests of your daughter."
"Please, Li-san!" the woman begged, and I could distinctly hear the tears in her voice. "My husband can no longer put up with her, and is threatening to have her institutionalized!"
I froze. Institutionalized. It was an ugly word, with one possible ugly outcome. My insides went cold as I remembered the screams, the sobs, the man at the doorway, with the letter, dressed in black.
I am sorry to inform you that Fanren and Feimei have passed away…
The crying. The funeral. Mother's red eyes. I had wanted to scream then. You could have stopped this! You could have kept them here!
"What's your daughter's name?" I asked weakly.
"Sakura," Mrs. Kinomoto said.
I paused, thinking. Finally, I decided to take a wild decision, and said, "Mrs. Kinomoto, it is out of the question to send your daughter here. But I have a better idea. Tell me when the next flight to your city is, and I'll come over to you as soon as possible..."
…after many long years. I must see to it that my student has finally come into the light…
The first meeting was disastrous. I arrived in Tomoeda at the Kinomoto residence – well, that was the modest name for it; in reality, it was almost as big as my own "residence" – and was ushered into the parlour, where I was introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Kinomoto. Mrs. Kinomoto looked nothing like I'd imagined her to. I had pictured a homely middle-aged woman. But Mrs. Kinomoto was still rather young, with hair that was still black and curling, and wide eyes that were a vivid green, and her young face was lined with worry.
Mr. Kinomoto looked somewhat more conventional. Tall and somewhat forbidding, with a stern face and an air of authority about him. His eyes were hidden behind glasses, and his hair was a bright flaming red.
"I understand you are Li Syaoran?" he asked me in an indifferent voice.
I could sense his skepticism. Barely twenty, I suppose I didn't look like the worker of miracles they spoke of.
"That is correct, sir," I nodded. "Mrs. Kinomoto called me here to help your daughter, Sa–"
"I am perfectly aware why you are here, Mr. Li," Mr. Kinomoto said in a booming voice. "You are here to work some magic over my daughter and make her literate, I presume?"
"Fujitaka," Mrs. Kinomoto reprimanded her husband softly. She smiled softly at me. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Li-san. I am confident that if anyone can help Sakura, it is you."
I inclined my head. "Thank you," I said stiffly, as Mr. Kinomoto's eyebrows met together in a ferocious scowl.
"Do not rest at ease, young man," he said formidably. "My daughter knows no method of communication. She is blind, deaf and dumb, Mr. Li. Do you understand? She knows no words, and understands nothing. She is little better than an animal."
My insides boiled. Before I knew it, my cool, calm exterior had snapped, and I found myself answering back defiantly.
"When her own father treats her like an animal, Mr. Kinomoto, what can you expect of others?" I snapped angrily.
He looked surprised, but stared at me regally.
"It is your job to make her human," he said shortly. "Nadeshiko, I'll be in my room. Show this – teacher what you need done."
And with that, he left, slamming the door as he went.
Mrs. Kinomoto let out a sigh of relief after he left.
"I'm sorry about that," she said bluntly. "He – he's very stubborn. It took me a while to persuade him to give her one last chance. Come, let me show you your room."
I followed her. She was tall, and she walked with a grace that belied her years. I wondered what the daughter would look like. I pictured a fearful creature, like the mother, with dark hair and wide green eyes, timid as a mouse.
"How can he do that?" I asked her. "I know it's not my place, but how can he talk about his own daughter like that?"
Mrs. Kinomoto sighed again. It must have been very difficult for her, to live half suffocated thus.
"Fujitaka is a proud man," she said softly. "When Sakura was born, she was the joy and pride of his life. When – when she went blind-deaf, it was as though some light in him went out. He believes that what he wants for Sakura is best. Even if –" her voice broke for a second, " – even if it breaks him in half. He's a stubborn man."
"And what do you think, Mrs. Kinomoto?" I asked gently. "What do you think is best for Sakura?"
Her mouth formed a small smile. "I think it's time I introduced her to her new teacher."
…and hope that she has not let go of the light of knowledge…
I had pictured a timid creature like the mother. Once again, the Kinomoto family didn't fail to surprise me. For Sakura was a wild girl, about fifteen, I guessed, and very strong. She had her father's stature and flaming red hair, which fell down her back unkempt and straggly. But as she stared blindly at me, I could see the empty green eyes were the image of her mother's.
"You'll have to excuse her," Mrs. Kinomoto was saying to me, "she's as stubborn as her father."
"Of course," I nodded. "She's blind and deaf. She doesn't understand the world yet, Mrs. Kinomoto. That's why I'm here."
She turned to the girl, who was sitting at the base of her bed, playing with a doll. I didn't know which was worse for the wear: the girl, or the doll.
One reason I'd wanted to take up this profession was to conquer my own fears. I still remembered the nothingness, the sheer horror of the black void in my dreams. I had been trapped in there for five years, but I had been lucky. God had granted me a second chance. The second chance that was never given to my sisters.
The chance Fanren and Feimei never had.
I blinked. Now was not the time to be wallowing in self-pity. After all, my time in the void had been barely five years. This girl, Sakura, was trapped for life. What was my terror, compared to hers?
Mrs. Kinomoto was saying something to Sakura – or rather, trying to.
"Look Sakura – there's someone here to see you!" she was saying, trying to convey this to Sakura through crude sign language. The girl seemed to hardly notice her mother's presence.
"Look, Sakura!" she tried again, trying to get her daughter's attention. Sakura simply stared into emptiness, her wide eyes blank and green. I felt my stomach knot. There was an uncomfortable déjà vu about this scene. Because when I saw Mrs. Kinomoto's hands tenderly touching her daughter, sensed the intense pain in her voice, the hidden tears in her eyes, I remembered Mother's hands touching mine, and I remembered Mother's red eyes as the man in black at the door stepped away from the house, and how her face crumpled into tears when she thought no one was looking.
And you could have stopped it, Mother!
"She can't see," I said quietly, kneeling in front of Sakura. I think she sensed my presence, because she suddenly lashed out, dropping the doll, and scrambled for her mother, shrieking wildly.
Mrs. Kinomoto tried to calm her down. "It's all right," she whispered, stroking her daughter's long, unkempt hair. "He's a friend, Sakura. Shhh…he's a friend."
I studied Sakura's face carefully. The eyes were fearful, despite their emptiness. Her limbs, though thin, were powerful, as she fought her mother's protective embrace. Delicately, I picked up the doll she had dropped, and placed it gently in her hands.
The shrieking stopped, and I saw the fear in her eyes disappear, to be replaced by a curiosity. She knelt toward me, and I saw a hand stretch out blindly, reaching for my face. I didn't move. She found it on her own. Her hands probed my hair, and moved gradually downward, examining my forehead, eyebrows, before touching my glasses. I saw her confusion and she examined the glasses, obviously foreign. She leant back, whimpering slightly, and I laughed, before taking off my glasses and placing them gently in her hands.
She examined them with her hands again, and I could see the calculations in her eyes, slowly putting things together. Gently, I placed my hands over hers and placed the glasses over her eyes. I saw recognition in her eyes, as well as the hint of a smile, before her hand stretched out again, continuing its examination of my face. Eyes, nose, mouth, chin…I took a hold of her hand and placed the palm against my mouth.
"Teacher," I said slowly. "Tea…cher…"
Then I let go of her hand, and she giggled, putting her hand over her mouth and blowing into it.
"Tee…"
"Li-san, is she-?" Mrs. Kinomoto questioned, her eyes alight.
I shook my head, smiling. "No, she's just imitating me," I said softly, examining the girl, who seemed to have several mood swings, because no sooner had she started laughing than she started to scream, and shrank back into her mother's arms.
I could see Mrs. Kinomoto's disappointment in her eyes.
"I'm very sorry," she said eventually.
I shook my head, watching Sakura. "Don't be," I said. "None of this is anyone's fault, Mrs. Kinomoto. These are matters beyond any of our control. What we can control, is how we take action and seize control of our own paths, for we shape it, or it shapes us."
There was another long pause.
"What do you plan on doing with Sakura first?" she asked hesitantly.
I answered briskly. "I plan to teaching her how to understand the world around her. That everything has a purpose and a name, and the two are interlinked. That the thing she sleeps on at night is called a bed. That the thing she plays with is called a doll. That the one who cares for her so much is called a mother."
Her eyes were inquisitive. "Can you really do that?" she asked.
"Your daughter is very clever, Mrs. Kinomoto," I told her firmly. "I have no doubt that she can do anything once she sets her mind to it."
And she must, I thought grimly, otherwise her father will send her straight to the mental hospital.
As though reading my thoughts, Mrs. Kinomoto spoke up rather sharply.
"Li-san, let me make this very clear to you," she said. "As long as I live, my daughter will never set foot in a mental hospital. She will never leave me. Ever."
I saw the conviction on her face, and recognized it. If only it were true. But fate had taught me otherwise.
"My mother said the same thing too," I said softly, in barely more than a whisper. "That her daughters would never leave her. But then one day, she herself dragged them to the mental institution…and I never saw them again…"
My eyes were wet, and I wiped them hurriedly. "I would not want that to happen to Sakura. No matter what Mr. Kinomoto thinks, I cannot let him make that mistake. She is only blind-deaf. There is nothing wrong with her mind. Once I teach her how to communicate, you will see for yourself."
"How?" Her question took me off guard.
"How what?"
"How will she be able to communicate?" she asked tentatively.
I smiled reassuringly as I raised my hands.
"Hands," I said quietly, "are the voice of the mute, the poetry of the deaf, and the music of the blind. They can be raised like a sword, and clenched in a fist for courage. They can feed you and slap you. They can point the way to God, and sometimes, even the door."
She stared at me blankly, before smiling again.
"I would love it if…if you could convey that to her…somehow…"
My smile widened. "Don't worry, Mrs. Kinomoto. In twenty days, your daughter will begin to understand."
…whose brightness is greater than the light of all the stars in the sky combined…
Twenty days. Almost three weeks. For a teacher, it was unreasonably quick. For a mother, it was an agonizingly long time. Twenty days were four hundred and eighty hours. Four hundred and eighty hours were twenty-eight thousand eight hundred minutes. Twenty-eight thousand eight hundred minutes were one million and seven hundred eighty-two thousand seconds. And when each second feels like a lifetime…twenty days seems an unfathomably long while.
Yet Nadeshiko Kinomoto's courage was unfailing as I told her, carefully, that she would have to hand custody of her daughter over to me for twenty days. During this while, she could not even see her daughter.
"I understand," she said quietly. "Just…just don't hurt her. And – and remember that she's lactose-intolerant, and –"
"I will, Mrs. Kinomoto," I said. "But maybe, in the meanwhile, you should take some rest. In twenty days, I will give you your daughter back."
The father was not around. On some business trip, most likely. That was well enough for me. I had enough to do without him breathing down my neck, whatever Mrs. Kinomoto said. I didn't like that man very much. He reminded me too much of…of…
Forget it, Syaoran. Concentrate on the task at hand.
Sakura fought like a monster. Every time I redoubled my efforts to teach her, she fought back even stronger than before. I supposed it was a matter of trust. Anyhow, at times, she was more cooperative than others.
And slowly, she began to learn, despite herself. It wasn't easy, but I remembered from my own experience, and from my sisters, and I went about, trying to teach her.
"The alphabet of this world start with A, B, C, D and E, but yours, Sakura, starts with B, L, A, C, K," I told her. "Sign it. B…L…A…C…K…"
I moved her fingers with the corresponding letters.
"Your world is different, Sakura," I continued. The fact that she couldn't hear me didn't faze me at all. After all, it wasn't the words she needed to hear. It was the essence of the words that she needed to sense. And so I continued onward, nonstop. "Your feelings and your perception of the world is different. You are different, Sakura. And be proud that you are different."
Soon enough, I took her around the grounds. I took her hand and placed it under the water fountain in the front garden. She screamed and thrashed and Mrs. Kinomoto called out from an upstairs window that Sakura had a lifelong fear of water.
"It's hard enough getting her to shower!" she called out with a smile.
Thank you, I muttered inwardly. Outwardly, I called back, "It's a lack of understanding, Mrs. Kinomoto. Sakura doesn't know what water is. Xenophobia, to a certain extent."
Sakura had run off. I sighed and took off after her. She ducked into the garden and ran, feeling the flower bushes to find her way. I saw that she was heading straight into the cactus display. Who the hell plants cactuses?
"Sakura –"
She screamed, reeling backward, her hands outstretched. I caught up with her and grabbed her by the shoulder none too gently. For once, she didn't struggle.
"Let me see that," I muttered, taking both her hands in mine, examining them. It certainly looked painful. Grabbing a handful of needles does that to a person.
I frowned as I brought the young girl to her knees. Well, not quite a young girl. She was only five years younger than me. But then again, people often told me I was old for my age, if that made any sense. Or that I was born old. Thankfully, she hadn't touched the cactus very firmly, and the needles were only partway embedded in her palms. Sighing, I began taking them out.
There were footsteps behind me. I turned to face Mrs. Kinomoto, who stood, eyes softening, as she held out a vial of balm in her hand.
"I thought you might be needing this," she said softly.
I nodded gratefully at her. "Nothing serious. Sakura has soft hands, but she's very strong. I can't expect that she'll remain so subdued for long."
Mrs. Kinomoto nodded, before turning back to the house. It had been eighteen days. I could only sympathize with her, but there remained so much to be done. Sakura had barely learnt her alphabet. And comprehension was something that came at its own fickle pace. No, I would need time, and to work on this. But it was a start, as I gently massaged her hands, and gently closed them together. She turned her blind eyes toward me, and I was startled to see a flicker of recognition there. Just a flicker. But it was there, all right.
The next day, I taught her how to eat properly. Oh, it was a great effort, because Sakura fought like a monster, and I, unwillingly, had to fight back. There was no messing about this time. Sakura had been spoiled for far too long, and it was time she realized that the world was not her play pen.
Easy said, but results were elusive. Sakura fought like a monster, and I had to fight back. There was only so much pampering I could put up with.
It went in some sort of cycle. I struggled to get Sakura to sit down in a chair, and she fought back at every step. Finally, I managed to keep her pinned down by the shoulders as I brought a glass of water close to her. She was screaming and struggling, upsetting the table. Plates and glasses fell askew. Several somethings shattered.
I sighed, shifting my weight to reach for another plate. It was too far. I let go of her shoulder for a split second and she was free. Jumping out of her chair, which fell onto its back, she scrambled for the door. I shook my head, and grabbed her hand, dragging her bodily back into the chair.
I managed to sit her down on the chair before she sat still. Finally, I sighed inwardly. I placed another glass of water by her hand, and closed her hand around it. Quick as a flash, her fingers tightened and she sent the contents of the glass splashing over my head.
I coughed and sputtered as the girl giggled. Wiping my running face, I glared at the girl.
"You spilt water on me?" I inquired roughly. "I'll show you the meaning of water now!"
And grabbing her wrist in a vice-grip, I dragged her out of the study, down the stairs and out into the lawn, with her screaming out protest that echoed around the entire Kinomoto property. She tried to let go, but I had a firm grip on her wrist.
"What is going on here?"
I recognized Mr. Kinomoto's voice and inwardly groaned.
"Teaching," I replied.
There was a dubious pause as he absorbed the scene. Sakura was screaming and fighting, trying to loosen my grip on her wrist. Both of us looked as though we hadn't slept in days.
"Teaching," he repeated coolly. "I see…and what were you planning on accomplishing by manhandling my daughter thus?"
I was too taken aback to answer.
"Li-san, do not cross your limits," he said icily. "You are a paid servant here, and do not forget that."
"A teacher!" I snapped. "A paid teacher, Mr. Kinomoto! And as Sakura's teacher, I reserve the right to use whatever methods necessary to bring her into the light!"
"Silence!" Mr. Kinomoto spat. "I see nothing more than a man abusing my handicapped daughter. Aren't you ashamed of yourself? I would suspend your license if I had a mind to!"
"You would hand your daughter to the mental asylum?" I asked angrily.
"I would do whatever is in her good interests, as her father," he replied stubbornly. "I have made up my mind. You are hereby dismissed, do you understand? Let go of my daughter and leave this place. Nadeshiko made a big mistake; nothing can help Sakura now –"
I felt the blood drain from my face. Time was running out. I saw the bars closing in on my two sisters, heard their screams, saw my mother's red eyes, and her face blurred. Suddenly, I saw Nadeshiko Kinomoto's face in place of my mother's, chalk pale as the man in black stepped away from the door.
No, a voice in my head said, unusually strong. I will not let them take you, Sakura.
I pulled again, dragging Sakura the last few steps before lifting her bodily and throwing her into the fountain.
"Li Syaoran!" I heard Mr. Kinomoto's outraged outburst. "What in the name of -?"
I ignored him, listening to Sakura's screams, splashing about in the water. If she couldn't begin to understand…nothing could help her…
And then, as I turned to face the fountain, I heard it. Very faintly, but just loud enough for me to sense, rather than hear.
"Wa…"
I sharply turned to face Sakura, whose eyes were no longer slack and unfocused. I saw her fingers form letters I had taught her almost twenty days ago.
W…A…T…E…R…
Water…
"Water!" I hissed, my face breaking into a smile as she grabbed my hand and put it under the falling water.
Water…
She smiled. "Wa…ter…"
My mouth dropped. Quick as a flash, I pulled her out of the fountain, she tripped and sent us both stumbling to the ground. I saw her feeling the grass with attentive fingers, and I could see the wheels turning in her mind.
You know this, I said in my mind.
As in response, her fingers moved. G…R…A…S…S…
"Mrs. Kinomoto!" I yelled. "Mrs. Kinomoto!!"
I heard hurried footsteps, as she came racing out and knelt beside us.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "Sakura -??"
She froze, as Sakura stretched her hand over Mrs. Kinomoto's face. I watched Sakura's fingers memorize every single detail, saw a frozen joy in Mrs. Kinomoto's eyes, and prayed. Let this be real. Let this be real…
And in one explosive breath, I heard the word.
"Mo…"
Mrs. Kinomoto heard it too. She stared at her daughter, tears pouring down her face, her mouth smiling a smile that made my eyes fill with tears.
"Oh, Sakura," she cried, and wrapped her arms around her daughter. The first time in twenty days. And for the first time in her life, I believed, Sakura wrapped her arms around her mother. I saw her fingers move, to form the word Mother, and Mr. Kinomoto came rushing over.
"What's going on?" he asked, his face like thunder, before Sakura stiffened, breaking her mother's embrace and turning cautiously to her father. Her fingers examined his face, and I saw his stern expression belie him for a second. Moments later, Sakura spoke again.
"Fa…" she breathed, her fingers spelling the remainder of the word. FATHER.
For the first time, I saw Mr. Kinomoto's face completely give way to tears as he wrapped his arms around his daughter. The family of three was wrapped in each other, and all of them were weeping inconsolably.
I smiled softly to myself and turned away. It was the beginning of a long pathway. Sakura had just taken her first step onto a long and winding pathway out of the darkness. She would have to be strong, stronger than before. But it was a start. As far as I knew Mr. Kinomoto's pride went, my work here was done.
I felt a tug on my arm, and turned. Sakura was standing there, her big green eyes fixed on me. Her hand came up tentatively, and brushed over my face, as though making sure I was there, and then, explosively…
"Tee…cher…" she breathed.
I couldn't help it, my face broke into a wide smile. It felt strange, to be smiling thus. I had precious little to smile about in my childhood and life. But this was a moment I would never forget. She was truly miraculous.
I took her hand in mine and signed six letters for her. She deserved to know this at least. Who knew? Maybe she'd understand.
S…A…K…U…R…A…
And then I knew, at that moment, I had found my life's purpose. It was the most beautiful moment of my life.
…I remember the darkness of the void, and can never forget the crippling silence…
Shortly after, Sakura had mastered her basics. Soon, her vocabulary exceeded the simple infancy of one new to the light of knowledge, and she began to talk through her fingers. Perhaps she had no voice, but her distinctive personality was conveyed no better through the rapid movement of her fingers, coupled with the shine in her eyes.
And I taught her Braille. Fujitaka Kinomoto's library was now stocked with several volumes of Braille, and she devoured these with alarming rapidity. Often, she wanted to discuss these with me, so I found myself reading more often than I had used to. And more carefully. Sakura was an intelligent girl, and her analytic skills surprised me. The girl would be an excellent scholar, if she ever had the chance to attend university.
I liked that thought.
To you, I told her one day, when she was sixteen, black is the color of oppression. The color of suffocation. Of the void. But to the world, black is the color of knowledge, of enlightenment. Graduates of university wear a black robe in honor of their achievement. One day, Sakura, I want to see you wear that robe.
It will be our dream, Sakura replied.
I smiled. Despite our initial differences, Sakura and I had become the best of friends, to some extent. We understood each other very well, sometimes even without the use of sign language.
Sakura told me of her cousin, Tomoyo. Her cousin who had come to live with her. Sakura doted on Tomoyo. I could tell by the way her empty eyes lit up at the very mention of Tomoyo's name.
"I remember when I was little, I put my hand to Tomoyo's face and had touched beauty. I knew I would see the world through her eyes, hear its music through her ears…"
I stared at a photograph of Tomoyo. She couldn't have been much older than Sakura. The girl was beautiful, with a milk-white face, thick dark hair and large violet eyes. However, there was something – alien – about her. A distance between her and the world around her, a suggested coldness about her, that was invisible around Sakura. Blind and deaf though she was, Sakura was warm enough in her reception of strangers now.
…my student needs my help, and I must ensure that all my previous efforts have not been in vain…
Tomoyo came home the following year. She was, at least, every inch the way I imagined her to be. The arrogance. The distance. The frigidity radiating from her. I couldn't understand why. Fujitaka and Nadeshiko Kinomoto were conservative, to say the most, but they were hardly unkind. From what I could see, they treated her like a second daughter, only to receive her cold shoulder.
And as for Sakura, she could hardly tell the difference. Tomoyo was lax in learning the sign language needed to converse with her cousin, and would often walk away from Sakura in mid-conversation. And while walking around the Kinomoto estate with Sakura, I often caught Tomoyo staring at me in – in what, I didn't know. Distaste? Contempt? Scorn?
"Are you Xiao Lang Li?" she asked me one day.
I froze. Xiao Lang Li. I hadn't heard that name in a while. Not since I'd left Hong Kong…
She unrolled a copy of the Hong Kong Times newspaper. I could have groaned out loud. There, on the front cover, was an old picture of me, and the headline read, Xiao Lang Li Jr. Abandons Politics For Servitude.
It was an old copy, from almost five years ago. I frowned.
"Where did you get that?" I asked her.
Tomoyo shrugged. "Project at school," she said. "So…you were a politician then?"
I shook my head. "No. Politics never interested me. My father was a big politician, and everyone before him. But I never liked it much."
There was amusement in Tomoyo's eyes. "So you decided to become a teacher for the blind and deaf?"
I didn't answer. I didn't like the way she was looking at me.
"Why the blind-deaf?" Tomoyo pressed. "You could have pursued politics and lived up to your family name. You could have been rich and powerful, and have everything you always wanted. But why did you give it all up for…for servant's work?"
"I do have everything I always wanted," I said through gritted teeth. "As for being rich and powerful, I never saw any use for that. It didn't help my father, did it? Nor did it help Fanren or Feimei –"
I cut myself off abruptly. Tomoyo was about to ask another question when I turned on my heel and stormed off to the library, where, sure enough, Sakura was reading a volume of Shakespeare.
"Teacher!" she greeted me. "Sit down! I have so many things to ask you!"
I sighed and sat down. As her fingers began to ask questions and mine moved quickly to respond, I found myself drifting away. How was it, that of two cousins, one, who was blind-deaf, could see more than the other, in full sight?
It's because one has been influenced by the world, I thought to myself, and the other…oblivious to the world.
Sakura tugged sharply on my sleeve. I glanced at her.
"Teacher, is there anything wrong?" she asked. I could see her apprehension in the movement of her fingers, and in her eyes.
"No," I replied. "Nothing's wrong."
I saw a hint of a smile on Sakura's face as she continued. "In that case, why did you confuse Brutus with Hamlet?"
I froze. "Did I?"
She nodded.
"Well…" My fingers spoke excuses. "I've just been thinking lately. There's been a lot to think about."
"Like what?" Sakura asked.
I hesitated to tell her about Tomoyo. After all, despite what I felt, Sakura had known Tomoyo for so many years, and loved her with a madness I couldn't even begin to fathom. Best I kept my mouth shut – and my fingers still – for the time being.
"In good time, you'll know," I replied. "All for your future."
Sakura nodded, and went back to her interrogation of the volume. I leaned back and thought deeply, about where Sakura was headed next. She was far too clever to remain at home. If only she could get enrolled in university! I had already talked with my friend, Yamazaki, who was the administrator of the nearest university,
I winced, remembering that conversation…
…the loss of an enlightened soul would be too much for my guilt to bear…
"A what?" Yamazaki spluttered, trying not to laugh. "A student who is –"
"Blind-deaf," I replied with a straight face. "And one of the most brilliant students I've ever met."
Yamazaki paused, studying my face.
"My God!" he whispered. "You're actually serious about this!"
And he burst into laughter.
"Are you quite done yet?" I asked pointedly after his laughter slowed down.
"Sorry," he said, not sounding sincere at all. "But – Syaoran – I think you've finally cracked. You can't honestly expect a blind-deaf girl to attend the same university as normal school students!"
"Why not?" I asked acidly.
Yamazaki looked at me, wide-eyed, as though this question needn't be asked.
"How would she keep up with lectures? Where would she lodge? How would she get around the campus? And just how do you think the other students would react to having a blind-deaf girl in their midst? Some would be kind, Syaoran, but others would be cruel and play tricks on her! Would you have the poor girl go through so much just to get a degree?"
"It's not the degree," I interrupted. "The degree is symbolic. The graduation is symbolic. The black robe, the years of study, the journey…it's all symbolic. Don't you remember, Yamazaki? Extended metaphor! What seems cynical and hopeless to you is the world to her. Maybe you haven't realized the hopelessness you live in if you were cut off from the world, but I have. I know what it feels like, and by God's grace I was spared so I could help another! Sakura is very intelligent. I challenge you to find another in her year who is as clever as she, who can put things together so quickly, who can match her passion to learn!"
I paused, locking eyes with Yamazaki.
"You won't find her anywhere," I said finally. "It may seem impossible to you, but it's something we're willing to do. You're wondering how she'll understand the lessons? I'll tell you: I'll be in the lecture hall with her, and I'll translate every single word! I'll help her understand all her lessons, I'll lead her around the campus, and I don't really care what the other students think! Nor will Sakura!"
Yamazaki still looked dubious.
"Please, Yamazaki," I asked. "Give her this one chance. Don't condemn her to a life of darkness."
Yamazaki stared at me blankly.
"You've lost your mind, Syaoran," he said. "First you threw away your job. Then you ran away from your family. I don't understand why you want to ruin Sakura's life as well! Why do you care so much about her, anyway? What is she to you? It doesn't sound like she's just a student of yours, at any rate."
"Things like these are beyond your understanding," I said coldly. "Forget about it. You go on with your life and pretend this didn't happen. But just remember this, Yamazaki: you only get one chance to do something good for someone. Only one chance. And if it comes knocking at your door one day, it's up to you whether to take advantage of it, or to drive it away. And you'll never feel the worst of it until one day, when you're ninety years old, in bed, dying. You begin to wonder what the purpose of your life was. What good did you do to anyone else? Did you live a meaningful life? And then you'll remember this moment, where you could have made a life or death difference to a helpless girl who needed your help more than anyone else's. You'll remember how you refused to help her, and condemned her to remain trapped in the darkness of her world. And then, you'll regret this moment, this one moment in your life where you had the chance to do something great. You'll regret turning your back on the one thing you could have done to make your life meaningful."
I glared at him.
"Think about that," I said shortly, before turning around and walking away. "Have a nice day."
…already I bear a burden of leaving my aptest pupil…
I scowled. Yamazaki was someone whose help I had been counting on. But he had proven to be as ignorant as the remainder of the rest of the world. And yet…I had needed his help so much. His university was one of the best around, and it was located within a perfect distance from Sakura's home: not too close, not too far. And the arts program I'd eyed for Sakura was one of the most prestigious in the world. If she could ever make it into that program and graduate from it successfully, she'd be one of the most respected scholars in her circle. Even more so considering she was blind-deaf.
If I searched for a way to make Sakura's life as enriching as possible, this was it. To take her deepest passion for knowledge and literature, and immerse her into an atmosphere of study and discipline, while giving her a sense of accomplishment and self-worth.
It would be a challenge for the eager young woman. To graduate among the ranks of the elites…I knew she was capable of it! If any student in those universities had a fraction of her passion and determination…
It wasn't fair at all, I thought to myself savagely. How life played cruel tricks with those most unable to fight back. How one could judge Sakura before even seeing her. Dismissing her as though she did not exist. As though she wasn't even worthy of a second thought.
She's worth so much more, I thought ruefully. Just give her one chance…one chance to overcome the blackness of her world…
I remembered myself assuring Sakura, some time ago, with the quiet confidence that I believed myself to possess – the sureness that Yamazaki would even consider allowing Sakura to enter his university.
It's my fault, I told myself resignedly. I should have kept more in touch with the cynicism of the world before turning myself against it. Or turning Sakura into an idealist.
Perhaps I should have viewed the situation more skeptically. But I was of a different breed than the rest of my family. I hadn't inherited the pragmatism of my politician ancestors.
I was a dreamer. Through and through. And, unsettlingly, as I continued with my lessons and engaged in deeper discussion with my pupil, I discovered that she was more like me than I'd have imagined.
Sakura and I, we were both dreamers, ignorant in the face of reality and odds. We lived in the world of literature and romanticism and chivalry. Regardless of the cynicism that gripped the rest of the world, we lived, trapped in the bubble of our own hopes and fears. We envisioned the gods of our perfect little microcosm, and we clung to them steadfastly.
Tomoyo, I decided, was less like the rest of her family that I had assumed possible. I had judged her to be superficial and aloof. I had not vouched for the other more dangerous aspects of the adolescent female psyche. I had never worked with very many females in close contact before. Sakura was the first. And she was hardly a typical adolescent female. Indeed, I had read of vanity, jealousy, and deception in my psychology textbooks, and other varied works of literature, but to see it employed before me was something completely different.
For it was not, as Sakura confided to me, Tomoyo's resentment of no longer being the cornerstone of her cousin's world that fuelled her coldness. As I observed her carefully, I realized that Tomoyo nursed within her, a deep, heartfelt jealousy. At first, I could not imagine why, and then, as her habits grew familiar to me, I began to understand.
Tomoyo's parents had passed away when she was quite young, I learned. Her mother had been Nadeshiko Kinomoto's sister, and had left Tomoyo in the care of her aunt. Tomoyo had been about eight years old at the time. Reluctant to spend her days with her wild cousin, Tomoyo would often spend her days alone in her room, or out beyond the boundaries of the Kinomoto estate, where she was forbidden to go. Eventually, Mr. and Mrs. Kinomoto decided that it was in Tomoyo's best interests to be sent to boarding school, away from the company of her cousin, whom she could not stand.
I sympathized with Tomoyo, who had never felt truly loved after this. To spend your days in a school of abandoned girls – or maybe loved girls – and then come home to an aunt and uncle who treated you warmly, but never quite like their blind-deaf daughter, who by nature required more attention than the average child – it must have been difficult for her to grow up. But I understood what Sakura did not. I understood Tomoyo's anguish, and the hatred she felt toward her aunt and uncle, who had sent her away and heaped their attention onto Sakura.
I could also understand her jealousy. Sakura, though blind-deaf, had everything Tomoyo wanted. A family. A home. Love. Unconditional love, to be specific. It must have been most difficult for her when she returned to find that Sakura had acquired a teacher. Not just any teacher. An influential man of reasonable years and quite the public reputation. Not only did Tomoyo feel more isolated than ever, she was robbed of her only pastime to alleviate the growing darkness within her: tormenting Sakura.
Now this I could not understand. Why, by victimizing her hapless cousin, Tomoyo thought she could alleviate her pain. It simply did not work that way. Whatever grim satisfaction she got from toying with her cousin's feelings could not possibly fill the gaping hole within her soul, yet she persisted. She would often distract me from my teachings, keep me away from Sakura. Try to get closer to me. Try to make Sakura or her parents aware that she was trying to get closer to me.
And for this, I hated her. I could sympathize with her situation, but I could in no means possible justify her reactions to her predicament. Of course, physical incompleteness could in no way compete with psychological incompleteness, but all the same…
She made me uncomfortable. When it was time for her to return to boarding school, I didn't miss her.
Her last action had disturbed me.
She had met me as I sat in the study, poring over Voltaire's Candide.
"That's a fascinating book," she had said, her large violet eyes fixed on mine.
"It is," I agreed, closing it.
"I usually don't like reading," Tomoyo confessed, making her way to sit beside me. "But that was an exception. Voltaire was a fascinating man."
"Yes, he was," I nodded slowly.
There was an awkward silence. I returned to the book.
"We may have to study that book," Tomoyo said suddenly.
I closed the book again and looked at her.
"In school," she finished, rather quickly. "I think we're doing Candide in school this year."
"It's an added advantage for you then," I said, as politely as I could. "If you've already read it, and like it so much."
A flash of annoyance flickered across Tomoyo's face, as she leaned toward me, rather boldly. I recoiled slightly. I could smell the lavender perfume she wore. It didn't smell bad, just…it was kind of overpowering. Like her.
"I was wondering if…" she trailed off. I didn't say a word. I didn't know anything that would have been diplomatic enough at that moment.
"If I could write to you if I needed any help?" she finished, rather dejectedly.
I relaxed inwardly.
"I'd be happy to help," I told her.
Tomoyo smiled jubilantly, and I didn't like the zealous look in her eyes.
"Thank you so much, Li-san!" she said, grinning.
I was completely unprepared for what came next. She placed her hands over mine and kissed me on the cheek. Just a quick peck. But when she drew away, her face was flushed.
"Bye," she offered, before she dashed off, out of the study and out of my sight. As for me, I could only sit there in a daze.
… breaking an unspoken promise…
Time passed, and eventually I forgot about Tomoyo. Sakura and I spent our days discussing Austen's works, and reading Persuasion together.
Finally, I got a letter. Dreading to see Tomoyo's name in the sender's corner of the address, I was pleasantly surprised when I saw that this was not the case. Instead, the letter had been sent from Takashi Yamazaki.
Heart pounding, I tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter, reading it in a hurry.
Syaoran,
Frankly, when you walked out of my office that day, I was prepared to dismiss you as the craziest man I'd ever met. I still think you're crazy. But I thought about your words, and since you seemed to be really upset, I thought about giving your suggestion a try. Looking at the applicant list present before me, I have managed to keep a prospective spot open in the roster for your student. However, since she has been home-schooled, it will be necessary for her to be interviewed by the administrators of the university, in order to maintain the integrity of our students. Please call me at my office to schedule an interview appointment.
I'm trying to do something good for once. Don't you dare judge me now.
Yamazaki.
My face split into a grin as I walked into the garden and found Sakura, sitting there on the stone bench by the fountain. It was a perfect summer's day, almost September. The day was warm, with a cool breeze tickling my ears with its cool breath. The smell of freshly cropped grass and wild flowers lingered in the air. As I sat down beside Sakura, the wind whipped the water from the fountain into the air, sprinkling my face with a light mist. It was, in essence, a perfect day.
"It's such a beautiful day," Sakura signed, her blind eyes radiating pure joy. "Shakespeare couldn't have done it justice."
"I would hold you up on that," I replied. "But there are other matters to deal with."
"And Shakespeare didn't think much of summer anyway," Sakura continued dismissively. "He thought his sweetheart was fairer –"
"Sakura," I said, halting her in her process. "After much persuasion, I have finally arranged an entrance interview for you. To go to university."
My words seemed to hang in the air, solid as the bees that hovered nearby. Beside me, Sakura had gone perfectly still as she struggled to absorb the news.
I saw her eyes grow brighter than I ever saw them go before. This wasn't mere contentedness, this was sheer joy. The joy of seeing the start of one's lifelong dream being fulfilled. It wasn't the fulfillment of her dreams that delighted her, but the thought of the road that would lead her there. And I had taught Sakura to always traverse a road to enjoy the journey, rather than reach the goal.
"I have told him you want admission in arts, not sciences," I continued as I saw her fingers twitch. Truth be told, I expected her to continue in literature, for she had an aptitude to the written word, and she devoured literature in giant helpings. Obtaining knowledge would have been considered troublesome for the majority of students her age, but to Sakura, it was the passion that fuelled her life.
"Don't be too happy yet," I warned her. "I have only arranged an entrance interview for you. Do you know what that means?"
Sakura nodded. "They will ask me questions, and I will have to answer."
"They can ask you anything," I continued. "They will ask you what you know of the field you wish to study in. They will ask you about your education, your past experiences…almost anything and everything you can think of."
"I am not afraid," came Sakura's response immediately. "I will do it. I will get into this university. For the both of us."
Seeing the determination in her blank green eyes, and the assured confidence with which she conveyed this, struck a chord deep within me. I had lived a monochromatic life, despite having regained my sight and sound. But this girl, who lived in her own world of blackness, had restored the color in mine. The moment I understood her courage and her determination, I felt my heart skip a beat, and goosebumps forming down the sides of my arms. Something like adrenaline was coursing through me. It was the savoring of the approach of victory, one small step at a time. Getting into university was a critical landmark in Sakura's pathway to success. Rather than dreading this, however, she faced her upcoming interview with grim determination and a wide smile.
It was a new challenge for her.
And Sakura loved challenges.
That week saw Sakura and I bonding closer than ever, as I prepared her as best as I could for a formal interview. Now neat and prim in her appearance and posture, I instructed her in the type of language she should be using to convey herself, despite having no voice. I drilled her in anticipating the kinds of questions they might ask, and the types of responses they expected. We rose early in the morning, and stayed up until the late hours of the night. Our conversation grew far more sophisticated than it had ever been, in preparation for the interview, and I began to understand then, more clearly than ever, that if there was anyone destined for scholarly greatness, it was Sakura. She was knowledgeable not only in just her field of study, but she had a sharp mind and a quick wit that enabled her to make quite entertaining, yet tasteful conversation – enough to propel her into the highest echelons of society.
She truly was my miracle student.
The day of the interview arrived. Mr. Kinomoto escorted us to the university campus, where he wished Sakura luck, and went no further. I carried on with Sakura alone, leading her through the grounds, into the wonderfully old building. It was a new place for Sakura, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see curiosity and wonder etched on her face.
Yamazaki, please let her in, I thought desperately. Don't shut her out before you have a chance to let her in…
I opened the office door, and, after Sakura had entered, I followed, closing the door shut behind me.
"Li!" Yamazaki greeted me as I entered, Sakura waiting by my side. "So glad you could make it!"
"So glad you could let us come," I replied, smiling grimly. There were five people stationed behind a large desk, each with pens and paper in their hands. They wore the severest of expressions, and dark clothing to match. Designed to intimidate the timid candidate, but it failed with Sakura, who could not see the grim scene before her and continued to stare directly into empty space, a placid smile on her face.
"Thing is," Yamazaki said, suddenly looking serious, "interviews being what they are, we can't let any bias get in the way of what she's trying to say."
I nodded, understanding.
"So uh…" Yamazaki fiddled with the end of his tie. "We can't let you translate for Sakura. Just – to make sure no partiality gets her in here."
"I understand," I said, my heart sinking like a stone. How would Sakura take the news, I wondered? That she would have to brave this hardest of tests without her Teacher by her side?
"We brought in another translator," Yamazaki said curtly. "She's worked with plenty of blind-deaf people in her lifetime, and she's a specialist. She should be competent to translate for Sakura. I don't imagine you've ever heard of her? Li Meiling?"
My insides froze. I tried to keep my face perfectly neutral as my insides pulsed rapidly. Meiling? My cousin Meiling? Was here to translate for Sakura?!
"I'm afraid I haven't," I said, fighting to keep my voice still. My apprehension began to fade. I knew Meiling would be a good translator. She knew the blind-deaf as she did herself. If I let on that I had known her from before, they'd call in another translator, and I couldn't trust that other one. This was best, and had to happen for a reason.
"She's there in the back," Yamazaki gestured. "Why don't you introduce yourself to her, and give a bit of background on Sakura?"
"I will," I told him, my heart thumping painfully fast. "Just let me tell Sakura about this, and then I'll meet her." Meeting my cousin after so many years. Imagine…
I approached Sakura.
"They are asking you to sit," I told her, motioning to the chair beside me.
"What about you?" she asked blithely.
I hesitated before I broke the news to her.
"They will ask you a few questions," I replied, hands shaking ever so slightly. "And they do not want me to interpret. Someone else will be interpreting for you. Is that alright?"
I saw blind terror flicker in Sakura's eyes, but she smiled diffidently, and with a deep breath, she replied.
"Yes." Confidence returned in her eyes. "It's alright. You'll stay here, won't you?"
"Of course," I replied. With that, Sakura made her way to the chair and sat, her white knuckles belying her otherwise calm exterior. Blood rushing in my veins, I turned to face the back of the room, where I saw a woman, about my age, sitting in a chair, poring over a Braille book.
I approached her, and she looked up and saw me. Her red eyes widened in delight. I put a finger to my lips, signaling silence.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Li Xiao-Lang," she said formally, though her face broke into a grin.
"Likewise," I said, grinning back. "Er…that's my student, Sakura, you'll be translating for…"
"Don't you worry," Meiling assured me, and I wasn't. "If she's anything like what I've dealt with before…I know her style."
Of course she did. We had spent most of our adolescence helping the blind-deaf in our home town. Sakura could not have had better luck.
Meiling whispered something as she walked by me.
"I won't scare her. She'll be fine."
I nodded my thanks, and made my way to the back as Meiling sat beside Sakura and introduced herself. I took a deep breath to calm myself. I was prepared to bet that I was more worried than Sakura was.
And the interview started. My nerves calmed themselves as Sakura parried answer for answer. I saw a look of reluctant admiration pass over one of the administrator's faces, and pride surged through me.
Keep it up, Sakura, I willed her. You're doing an amazing job.
And the interview continued, spanning questions from all different areas. Sakura replied brilliantly, Meiling translating her words faithfully and accurately. When Sakura accurately explained the errors in perspective in the Mona Lisa, Yamazaki fixed me with a look of disbelief.
I could read what was on his mind. How does a blind-deaf girl know what the Mona Lisa looks like? Or understand something like perspective!
I smirked at him, and he averted his gaze.
Finally, the last question was asked. My nerves were in knots, as was my euphoria. Just this last question, held the balance between the making or breaking of our dream.
Yamazaki spoke, his voice echoing around the oaken room.
"What does knowledge mean to you?"
Perfect question, I thought, feeling my stomach writhing. I never even thought of asking Sakura this. Ever.
Though I knew Sakura was unprepared for answering this question, or ignorant to what the administrators searched for in this question, I could not ignore her ability to think on her feet.
Turn to your passion, I thought. Let them see what you want most in this world.
As if reading my thoughts, Sakura's fingers began to move.
Meiling's voice translated, sure as ever.
"Knowledge is everything," she said steadily. "Knowledge is spirit…wisdom…courage…light…and sound."
Excellent, I thought grimly.
Sakura's fingers continued to move.
"Knowledge is my Bible," Meiling continued, her eyes fixed on Sakura's hands. "My God."
I could see a couple of the administrators nodding as they scribbled away on their papers.
I heard Sakura let out an explosive breath, as she signed something, and at length, her hands were still.
Meiling stared at Sakura appraisingly before she spoke. When she finally translated Sakura's last words, there was a slight quaver in her voice.
"Knowledge," she said, "is my Teacher."
Her words seemed to echo in my head.
My Teacher…
I had never heard Sakura speak of me in the third person. Somehow, it solidified everything in my head, making everything seem so real. Sakura was my pupil, and I was her teacher. But our bond went deeper than that. It became clear to me, at that very instant, that I was not just an instructor or tutor for her. I was the one who had dragged her out of her dark, empty void, and led her onto this path. I had struggled and fought with her, when no one else would. I had been the first to give her the respect of an equal, and made her able to comprehend so much more than just the basic instincts of an animal. I had taken her world of senses and transformed it into a literary, enlightened world of hopes and dreams.
I had done so much more than educate her. I had truly made her alive. Instilled passion into those empty eyes. Lent strength to her empty hands.
In her world of shadows and trembling aspirations, I was her only god. The only pillar she could cling to. I was the embodiment of her thirst for knowledge, her struggle for enlightenment.
And the abrupt realization of this left me numb all over. The realization that I, always sneered at and ridiculed for doing what I believed in, meant the world to another…it brought tears to my eyes.
"I almost cried," came Meiling's voice from beside me. "Your student makes up for what she lacks in sight and sound with a raw, heartfelt passion."
I stared at her.
"Like her teacher," she said, smiling.
I longed to throw my arms around my cousin and tell her how I much I had missed her. How much I missed my family back home. But she could read me like an open book.
"Don't be doing that," she signed to me sternly. "You have something worth fighting for here. Don't ever let it go."
"Don't be ridiculous," I told her, my fingers moving deftly. "I've never felt this alive in years."
Meiling regarded me with a hint of amusement.
"You're young yet," she said. "Sakura is your student, but at times I can believe her to be…more…"
I arched an eyebrow.
"More?" I asked softly, not quite understanding.
Meiling sighed.
"You'll figure it out eventually," she signed.
I decided to change the subject.
"How is it back home?" I asked. "How are Fuutie and Xiefa?"
Meiling's eyes misted over.
"Xiefa had surgery two years ago," she signed. "She can see now – but she can't hear. She's getting married next spring."
My face broke into a wide grin.
"Really?" I signed, barely able to contain my joy. "That's incredible! I can't begin to describe how happy I am."
"You don't need to," Meiling replied. "I was going to ask you to come next spring, but I see you have more important things to deal with here."
My face fell. Was she accusing me of…?
"I didn't mean it that way," Meiling corrected hastily. "I just wanted to say that no matter what, I believe that your obligation to Sakura exceeds your obligation to us. Truly."
I nodded slowly, pain filling my heart.
"And don't feel guilty," Meiling warned. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of them all. And Yelan and Wei are there too…we miss you, but you have work to do here."
"I wish I could see Xiefa again," I said wistfully. "I want her to see me. Just once."
"You'll be too busy," Meiling said crisply. "Sakura will be buried in her finals, and you have to be there, Teacher. In case you haven't noticed, her whole world is anchored around you. If you leave her side, even for a moment, she'll fall and never be able to get up again."
This idea seemed so frightening to me, I was in a hurry to dismiss it.
"It was wonderful to see you again," I told Meiling, standing up. "Write to me, and tell me how the wedding goes."
Meiling stood up slowly too.
"I will," she nodded. "I promise I will. I'd tell you that our doors are open for you always, but you don't seem to need them. You have a place for yourself here, and this is where you belong now."
I clasped her hand in a gesture of farewell.
"Send me pictures, if you can," I whispered in her ear.
Meiling nodded.
"Only if you promise me one thing," she whispered back.
"What?" I asked.
"Send me a picture of Sakura in that black robe," Meiling grinned. "When she graduates."
… I promised her I would never give up on her…
Years turned by in a haze of hard work and failures. It was difficult for me to push Sakura as she struggled through her classes. Typing was a difficult skill for her to learn, but I stood from a distance and watched her slave over her typewriter, day in and day out. Tears streamed from her empty eyes and I felt my first pangs of true guilt twinging away in my heart. She thought I had given up on her. She had no idea that I was doing this only to drive her to the fullest extent that she could go. When I was by her side, she was complete. But when I left her on her own, she was unstoppable.
And when she finally reached her goal of 34 words per minute, I smiled for days on end. Sakura. My inspiration in so many ways. I came here so many years ago and I still remember those long days of trying to teach fifteen-year-old Sakura her alphabet. How she had grown!
I meant it psychologically and physically. Sakura wasn't a scrawny little teenager anymore, but a full-grown woman. She was built in her father's stature, but she had her mother's features. Tall, slender, her face resembling her mother's... Delicate, soft features, a small mouth with sweetly curving lips, a small nose and luminous eyes that still seemed too large for her face – it just made her seem more ethereal. More fey.
I couldn't help but notice these things during the time we spent together. When I held her soft hands in mine to talk and explain to her. When her slim fingers reached out and massaged mine, in gratitude for the endless translating I had to do for her. When she leaned against me and rested her head against my shoulder as I talked to her, late into the night. And then, later, safe in my own bed, I would toss and turn, unable to get sleep. Because all I could think of was her. Her unfaltering fingers. Her full pink lips. Her unsteady gait, with her cane in hand... To this day, all I have to do is close my eyes. I can still hear her laughter, warm in my ears. I can still smell her scent, a sweet flowery aroma that lived in her soft red hair. I can still see her eyes, her dazzling empty green eyes...
I was beginning to obsess over her. It was scaring me. I'd always been a realist in this respect. I studied literature and read Shakespeare with a disciplined mind. Yes, I accepted that things like love and lust existed. But I never imagined myself to experience them. Never saw myself living a life that included these feelings. But there I was, daydreaming about her. Turning red whenever she touched me. Imagining a life with her by my side.
It was an uncomfortable feeling as a teacher, to be having those sort of thoughts about a student. And I was already five years her senior. It wasn't that big of an age difference, but the fact was that when I first met her, she had practically been an infant. And I had been the one to nurse her from infancy, and had been by her side as she entered adulthood. That almost made me her parent...
I was growing more uncomfortable as the days passed by.
... and I never will...
Meanwhile, as Sakura was finishing her third year in university and obtained early admission into a postgraduate Master's program, things took a turn for the worse. At the Kinomoto residence, tension had skyrocketed. The reason?
Tomoyo had just received her degree in law. She was twenty-six years old and still unmarried. Controversy.
Even more so when she began to display her attachment toward me. I could see that neither Fujitaka nor Nadeshiko Kinomoto were too pleased with this. It had been evident, especially in Nadeshiko's eyes, that she had wanted me to stay with Sakura.
As for me, I was torn already by my rapidly altering feelings for my student. Uncomfortable already. And then, Tomoyo decided to start courting me – or attempted to. It made me feel disgusted with myself. I would be in the middle of explaining a lecture to Sakura, and all of a sudden, Tomoyo would be there. Making some excuse or another to try and get me away from my student. Of course, she never succeeded because I would never leave Sakura's side, teaching or not, but my resistance merely strengthened her efforts.
It came to a head one evening. In a strange turn of events, Sakura was upstairs finishing off an abstract for her paper due the week later and I was downstairs in the dining room. Eating dinner with Fujitaka, Nadeshiko, and Tomoyo.
Nadeshiko smiled at me as I looked around uncomfortably. She could obviously tell that I felt guilty for eating while Sakura was working away upstairs, all alone.
"She'll be down soon," she said to me. "If she doesn't come in another five minutes, you can go and call her down."
I felt myself blush a little. Across from me, Tomoyo scowled ferociously.
"It's not that..." I trailed off absently, picking at my food.
Nadeshiko shared a knowing look with Fujitaka before resuming eating quietly.
"It's not going to work," Tomoyo spoke up suddenly.
Everyone in the room froze. Nadeshiko, Fujitaka and I stared at her, gaping a little. Her usually pale face was flushed and her eyes were oddly bright. She looked feverish. She was out of control.
"What isn't going to work, Tomoyo?" Fujitaka asked calmly, reaching for his glass.
"Your plan," Tomoyo said with a scoff. She tilted her chin and surveyed her uncle beneath hooded eyelids. "To set Sakura up with him."
Her words echoed on the air. Silence reigned for a moment. Maybe two. I could see Fujitaka Kinomoto's face reddening. Nadeshiko's eyes were worried. Me, I was getting irritated. There was only so much of this...nonsense that I could take.
"Plan?" Nadeshiko repeated as delicately as she could, setting down her chopsticks carefully.
"Yes, plan!" Tomoyo fired back. She slammed her fists on the table, and I was instantly reminded of the time I taught Sakura how to eat, long years ago. "I've seen it all! The way you two smile at each other when the two of them are together. The look you have in your eyes whenever Sakura says something about him. The lengths you go to so that they can have alone time together! It makes me sick!"
"And why would that concern you so, Tomoyo?" Fujitaka asked slowly, setting his glass back down on the table. "I've observed over the years that whatever occurs in the best interests of your cousin fails to interest you unduly."
"My cousin!" Tomoyo spat, her beautiful face mottling. "Sakura? I don't think I need to worry my head over her, since she's all you two can ever think of!"
Hurt crossed Nadeshiko's lined face.
"Tomoyo...?" she began, but her niece cut her off.
"Don't talk to me like that!" she cried, and I was shocked to see tears forming in her eyes. "Ever since I came to live with you, I've been overshadowed and overlooked! Every time I wanted something, every time I needed you there, you were always too busy. Looking after Sakura. Because she's blind and deaf and so special!"
"Tomoyo -" Nadeshiko tried again, and I could hear tears forming in Nadeshiko's voice as well.
"Shut up!" Tomoyo yelled, jumping to her feet. "You know what? I'm tired of being ignored and unloved! You two probably think you fulfilled your duty as my guardians by sending me to a good school and buying me everything I wanted? But you never loved me the way you loved Sakura...you never loved me..."
The girl broke down into sobs. Nadeshiko's hand reached out to touch Tomoyo's very softly.
"That's not true," she whispered, and there were tears sliding down her face too. "You know that's not true. Fujitaka and I – we loved you, Tomoyo, whatever we did, we did it because we loved you -"
"Stop lying to me!" Tomoyo wrenched her hand out of Nadeshiko's grasp. "You've acted as though I was a burden on you ever since my parents died! I came here, and what did I get? Oh, a lovely room – the guest room, though! Food and shelter – well I think I got along better when you sent me away to boarding school because you couldn't put up with me any longer!"
"What were we supposed to do?" Nadeshiko pleaded, standing up and walking over to Tomoyo's side. "Don't be so...Tomoyo, listen to me. Your cousin was blind-deaf, Fujitaka was planning to have her sent to the asylum, for God's sake! God forbid, if the places were reversed and that had been you in Sakura's place, I would have done the exact same thing."
"No you wouldn't!" Tomoyo choked out, stepping away from her aunt. "You'd never go through the trouble of getting me a teacher or making me literate or trying to set me up with anyone decent! You'd've sent me straight to the institution!"
Nadeshiko was at a loss for words. So was Fujitaka. Me, I was numb. I didn't know what to feel, how to react. Everything was coming to a head, and it was all happening so quickly...
"You know you're spouting rubbish," Fujitaka said, his voice quietly powerful. "I can understand your feelings toward your cousin, but I would have thought a grown woman like you would have understood our positions and our compulsions better."
"She's the reason my childhood was empty!" Tomoyo shrieked. "My perfect, miraculous, handicapped cousin! She's the reason you never loved me. She's the reason you sent me away. She's the reason you'll never let me -"
"Let you what?" Fujitaka's voice was dangerously sharp. "Let you do what, exactly?"
Tomoyo went rebelliously silent, her chest heaving up and down with effort of composing herself. There were no more tears trailing down her face, but her face was still red and her hands still shook.
"Tomoyo," Fujitaka said icily. "What do you want, after all?"
She stared at the table sullenly, her fists clenching and unclenching. Suddenly, her eyes raised to meet mine and then, horribly, I knew what she was going to ask. And I was powerless to stop it.
"Him," Tomoyo said pointedly. "I want to marry him."
I had no idea what expression was on my face at the time. All I could feel was – well, I couldn't feel anything. Maybe shock. Maybe despair. Maybe panic, for Sakura's part.
Fujitaka's mouth opened to shoot down her words, but she barraged on.
"I know you won't agree to this," she said, breathing quickly. "Because he's off limits, isn't he? The great Xiao Lang Li – he could have had such a future ahead of him, but no, he had to come here and stay attached to Sakura like some sort of false limb, and now if I told you that I've – I...love him, you still wouldn't let me marry him, would you? Because Sakura needs him!"
"Well, she does!" Fujitaka answered, looking around at me nervously?
"Well, so do I!" Tomoyo retorted, her jaw set curiously hard. "You don't understand how much, but I do! All these years, Sakura's had him to herself and I never even had a chance to know him. But what was there not to love? He's Xiao Lang Li! He's kind and gentle and so handsome..."
She looked at me and there was something like hunger in her eyes. I don't think I'd ever felt more discomfort in my life.
"But you won't let me anywhere near you," she said softly. "And you two-" she spun around to stare at her aunt and uncle, "-won't do anything to further this. You won't let me court him even though he makes me happy! You know why? Because you really don't care about me! I'm the older one! I'm prettier, smarter and I'm not handicapped. I should have been married a long time ago, but now I'm twenty-seven years old, I'm not getting any younger and it's time for you two to fulfill your duties to me as parents!"
The three of us were stunned. I could only think of Sakura, working away innocently upstairs.
"Tomoyo," I began, "I have a question for you. And you have to answer me honestly."
Tomoyo gave me an odd smile and replied in a strangely unperturbed voice.
"Of course."
I hesitated slightly before I spoke again.
"What makes you happier?" I asked carefully. "The fact that my name is Xiao Lang Li, or the fact that if you marry me, you'll be snatching me away from Sakura?"
I saw twin spots of red form on her cheeks and knew I'd struck gold.
"At least you're frank and not pretentious fools like the rest of them," she hissed, though there was a smile playing about her mouth. "Both, Li-san. Both make me very happy."
I blinked as disgust overcame my pity for her. I stood up slowly, holding her probing violet stare.
"This marriage would never work then," I told her. "You don't love me. You just love the idea of using me to hurt your cousin. And I can't do that. I can't be an accessory to your childish vendettas."
My words snapped a chord within her. Her face, always so pretty, suddenly became twisted and ugly as it contorted with rage.
"Fine!" she snapped. "Fine! You don't want me, I understand that. But I still want you, no matter what my reasons are. And I'm letting you know right now, that if you don't marry me, I'm never going to let you and Sakura stay together in peace. I don't care if I have to go to her and force her to give you up, but I'll get what I want in the end. I will."
And with that eerie parting gesture, she turned on her heel and stormed away, her black hair dancing behind her with electrical intensity.
"Sakura loves you!" I called after her. "Why are you doing this to her?"
There was no response, but I thought I saw her pause on the stairwell before she raced up the steps and into her bedroom. The house shook a little as she slammed the door shut.
I shifted my gaze to Fujitaka and Nadeshiko, who both looked mortified. But the expressions on their faces couldn't possibly match mine.
It was Nadeshiko who spoke first.
"Li-san..." she said in barely more than a whisper. "I'm so sorry about that..."
I shook my head and sat back down. What could I possibly say? Tomoyo was already partway insane. If I refused her, then she would probably snap and destroy whatever it was that Sakura and I shared.
...but if I accepted her, I would destroy Sakura. It would break her heart and she would lose her will to fight on. All of our efforts would have been broken. Wasted.
No matter what I did, my efforts seemed doomed to failure.
"Why can't she understand?" I asked softly, to no one in particular. "This is wrong. What she's doing is wrong. No one's responsible for anything here. Least of all Sakura."
There was no response.
"She's innocent," I mumbled to myself, fiddling with the napkin on the table. "She shouldn't have to go through this. She still has to get her Master's. How can she do that if I'm married to Tomoyo? I don't even want to marry Tomoyo -"
"We won't dream of forcing you, Li-san," Nadeshiko replied gently. "But in light of these events...I don't know what to do..."
"Tomoyo!" Fujitaka said softly. "What haven't we done for that girl? Why is it that everything we do is never enough?"
As for me, there was an answer forming in my head, though I hated to think of it. It made my insides cold and my heart beat irregularly, but it was a solution to the problem.
"I can't stay here anymore," I said, barely loud enough for them to hear.
But they heard. And turned to stare at me, gaping.
"I have to go back," I continued, staring at the napkin I was twisting and turning in my hands. "I can't stay in this house anymore. If I do, Tomoyo's obsession is only going to drive her mad and destroy everything Sakura and I have come to accomplish so far."
"But Sakura..." It was Fujitaka who spoke, to my surprise. "What about her? She needs you."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
"She'll manage," I said, though I could feel my heart breaking as I said it. "I know her. When I'm with her, she's complete. But when I'm not by her side, she's unstoppable."
"She'll be devastated," Nadeshiko said softly, her eyes boring into mine. They were the image of her daughter's. I couldn't refuse those eyes. But I had to. For their own good.
"She's strong," I told her heavily. "She may lose hope for a day, a week, a month...but then she'll come back around. And when she does, no one will be able to stop her."
Nadeshiko's eyes were staring into my soul. I knew that she knew about my feelings toward Sakura, impure as they were, and she sighed.
"And to think of what might have happened," she breathed. I didn't want her to clarify. Just in case I discovered something about Sakura that would make me want to stay.
"It's what's best for all of us," I said firmly, hiding the coldness and guilt I felt inside as I stood up. "I'll leave tomorrow. As early as possible."
My words sounded like a death knell, echoing in the still air of the Kinomoto's dining room.
Before either of them could protest, I made my way toward them and bowed my head respectfully.
"It has been an honour and a great pleasure working for you," I said. "Take care of Sakura for me."
"Until you come back," Fujitaka said to me crisply.
I straightened from my bow.
"If I come back."
...now I must return...
And with those words, I headed off to my room. The house already felt like a mausoleum, its dark and forbidding air suffocating me. I sighed as I packed up my belongings. I'd accumulated an inventory over the years, but I still didn't have much to pack away. Within an hour, the room was empty. As though I had never been there.
I checked the clock. It was two in the morning. I had phoned the train station earlier and knew that a train from Tomoeda to Tokyo was leaving at four. From Tokyo I would connect to a flight directly back to Hong Kong.
I bit my lip grimly, trying not to think of Sakura's face in the morning.
Sakura.
I had to say goodbye to her.
I crept into her bedroom. Thank God she was already sleeping. I tiptoed across the room to where her typewriter was. Sitting down in front of it, I slid in a piece of paper and began typing away at the most difficult letter I would ever have to write.
Dearest Sakura, I wrote.
How was I supposed to explain to her why I'd gone without going into details? Where could I draw the line at breaking her heart? How much could I tell her?
The time has come when I can no longer stay in your home, I typed. Sakura breathed deeply and I froze. Luckily for me, she only turned onto her side and continued sleeping.
Circumstances beyond my control – yes that seemed vague enough to work – make it impossible and improper for me to remain.
Good, I thought to myself. I decided not to mention anything about Tomoyo's...threat. The last thing I wanted to do was add to the fire between the two cousins.
By the time you read this, I will be back home in Hong Kong, I continued. A lump was forming in my throat and my eyes were burning. It wasn't from lack of sleep either.
I closed my eyes and imagined Sakura reading this note.
By the time you read this, I will be back home in Hong Kong...
So distancing. So final. So damning and cruel. She would be devastated indeed. Her mouth would open and she would scream. Tears would pour down her smooth white cheeks from her preciously empty eyes -
Don't cry, Sakura, I typed instinctively. I know this is cruel, and it will hurt, but you have been strong countless times before, and I have no doubt you will continue to do so.
She had to remain strong. She had to.
Please don't throw away all your successes, I wrote on. It was a bit rich of me to ask her this when I was the reason for any faltering on her part...
Please don't let the darkness consume you. Please keep walking toward the light. You owe me this, if nothing else.
That's nice, I thought to myself savagely. Remind your student why they should remain loyal to you after you've betrayed them.
I had to let her know that I loved her. Loved her for who she was and what a beautiful soul she had and even with her handicaps. I wanted her to know that she was my purpose for living, my inspiration. But how could I ever put this in words?
Remember Sakura: you will always be my miracle.
With love,
Teacher.
I almost closed off the letter with my name. But Sakura had never known me by any other name, apart from Teacher. And I wasn't about to change things between us. Hating myself every minute, I removed the letter I had written and folded it. I walked slowly to Sakura's bedside where she lay in peaceful sleep.
The moonlight from the window streamed in and touched her pale face with a silvery sheen. Her face seemed to glow with serenity as her lips curved in a slight smile, even in slumber. Her soft red hair was strewn about her pillow, looking almost black in the nighttime dimness.
My throat constricted even more as I gingerly laid the letter down on the pillow, beside her face. She responded by snuggling deeper into her covers, her hands clasping and coming to rest beside her cheek.
I couldn't just leave like that. Not without bidding a proper goodbye. And so, my heart hating me all the more, I knelt beside her bed, stroked her hair as I usually did when she was upset or frightened, and then placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
A quick kiss goodbye.
I broke away from her and stared at her lips, still smiling in her innocent, childlike sleep. I wanted to kiss them. Just once. I wanted to feel them against my own, to experience what they tasted like... I wanted to say goodbye to her as a woman, not just as a student. And I leaned closer to her, my face barely inches from hers. My lips grazed hers lightly, and she exhaled sharply.
I drew away from her abruptly. I couldn't do this. I couldn't. I was leaving her behind. I couldn't bring myself to change what we had between us. Not when we had so little time left and so dark of a future ahead of us. And she lay there, undisturbed in her pristine childlike innocence. I couldn't bring myself to mar that purity of hers. I couldn't capture her innocence by doing this.
I'd never be able to forgive myself.
I touched my hand to my lips and slowly brought my fingers to hers, touching her lips to my hand. The way we used to do when we were younger and she would try whispering secrets into my fingers. There was a deep unspoken secret hidden in my fingers now, and she, luxurious in her rest, would never be able to figure it out. I leaned over her once more, careful not to disturb her, and took in the last of her sweet flowery scent.
I whispered a soft, "I love you" into her ears, knowing full well she would never be able to hear me. Then I kissed her cheek once, twice before I pulled away. If I continued, I don't think I'd ever be able to leave her. But I had to. I had to break her heart and mine, or destroy us all.
I stood up and took my last glimpse of her, an otherworldy moon-child, swathed in the silvery moonlight. Then something was trickling down my face, and I knew they were the first tears I'd cried in years.
I left the house immediately after that. But I cried on the train to Tokyo and on the flight back to Hong Kong. The entire way through.
Meiling was beyond shocked when I turned up on the doorstep that morning. She took one look at my tired face and swollen eyes and knew something had happened. But she never questioned me. Nor forced me to go back.
I forced myself to resume my work in Hong Kong. Meiling had started a bigger school for the blind-deaf, and it was running well. I helped her run it. Slowly, people were beginning to accept my decision to abandon politics and follow what I believed in. But Mother, Wei and the rest of the Elders still found it hard to look me in the eyes. They were still embarrassed by my 'servitude'.
I developed a routine and went about my days automatically and thoughtlessly. Like a shell, devoid of soul and emotion. Whatever I felt, it transcended heartbreak. This wasn't just because I loved Sakura as a woman. I loved her as a student, as a friend, as a soulmate... she was the sole purpose of my being, and without her, I was lost.
I never cried after arriving in Hong Kong. My pain went beyond tears. My guilt multiplied as the days went on. I couldn't sleep at night. I barely ate by day. I knew everyone was worried about me, but thoughts of her...thoughts of Sakura were driving me mad. There were times when I could feel lucid thoughts slipping away from me. I thought I would trade everything I owned in this world just to see her once. To tell her that I loved her and hadn't given up on her. To see her in that black robe. I wanted to see her in that robe.
For ten years I lived in this hellhole, swallowing my pain and numbing my wounds. For ten years I choked myself and held myself back, knowing that whatever I was going through, it was nothing compared to what Sakura must be going through. Or what we would have gone through if I had stayed in Tomoeda.
But then, I saw another dream. Different from Sakura standing at the alter with a diploma in hand and a black robe draped over her body. In this dream, Sakura was standing at an alter. But she was dressed in a white bridal dress. And I was there at the altar beside her. The priest bestowed his blessing. Within moments, we were proclaimed man and wife.
I couldn't ignore this any longer. Dreams of graduation, of marriage, and finally, of Sakura as an old woman drained of her passion and strength, just because I'd left her. I couldn't take it anymore. And it was for this reason I chose to return to Tomoeda.
I was going back to her. For good.
...and there is a very good chance I will not return from my life's work...
I returned to Tomoeda. It was May, the month of graduation. I didn't know where to start looking for Sakura. I checked the Kinomoto residence, but it was deserted. The maitre d' informed me that the Kinomotos resided there only during holidays. During the year, Sakura and her parents stayed in a small house near her university.
So I wandered around the town. Everything was painfully familiar. Especially as I drew closer to Yamazaki's university. Memories overwhelmed me. Memories of me sitting down with her, scolding her, lecturing her, teaching her...
"Syaoran?"
I turned around. No one had called me by that name in over ten years.
There, standing in front of me was Yamazaki. And there was a woman standing next to him.
"Yamazaki!" I said, a smile breaking over my face. I clasped his hand warmly.
"What are you doing here?" Yamazaki asked, eyebrows lowering. "Or better yet, where were you, all these years? You missed my wedding!"
"Wedding?" I asked stupidly, before my eyes registered on the woman standing next to him.
Yamazaki grinned.
"This is my wife. Chiharu," he introduced me. "And that's the stupid friend I kept telling you about. Syaoran."
Chiharu giggled as I frowned at him.
"That stupid friend?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"Let's go for a drink," Yamazaki said, pointing to a teashop. "And I'll fill you in on what's going on."
Chiharu gave us a quick look.
"I'll head back home and start dinner," she said tactfully. "Sounds like you two have a lot to catch up on."
And she hurried off.
Moments later, I found myself in a tiny little teashop. I recognized it all too clearly, because I used to bring Sakura in here all the time.
Yamazaki sat down, handing me a cup of green tea.
"Thanks," I told him, sipping it gingerly. It was really hot.
"So what brings you into these parts again?" Yamazaki asked, getting right to the point.
"Sakura," I answered simply.
"Ah," Yamazaki said, stirring his tea. There was a glint in his eyes. Did he know something that I didn't?
"How is she?" I asked, dreading what his answer would be. "Did she -?"
"She went near crazy for almost a month," Yamazaki said, and my insides froze. "But then she pulled through. She got her Master's five years ago, and she's been working on getting her physician's degree in art history ever since."
My jaw dropped.
"A Ph. D?" I repeated, dumbfounded.
"Yup," Yamazaki grinned. "It's incredible. They published an article about her in the newspaper last week."
"Did they really?" I asked, blinking stupidly. Elation spread through my body. My limbs were tingling, my brain was floating in Alka-Seltzer. This was too good to be true. Sakura was getting a doctorate!
Yamazaki had gotten up and was looking for something on a table nearby. Then he returned, and slapped something down on the table.
"There you go," he said, grinning. "That might interest you."
I took the newspaper with badly shaking fingers. There was a picture of Sakura on the front page. She looked the same as ever. Perhaps a bit more tired and a bit thinner, but still unmistakeably herself. My heart skipped a beat as I saw her eyes, still blank but glancing out at the camera nonetheless. The headline read, A Miracle of the Modern World.
It was so true, I thought. She was a miracle. She always had been.
Sakura Kinomoto, age 36, is older than most of her fellow candidates receiving their doctorates next week, the article read. But taking into account that the girl has been blind and deaf since the age of three, this is an accomplishment short of impossible by today's standards.
The Tomoeda native claims that she never understood the meaning of the word "impossible".
"I was blind-deaf from a young age," she explains through her complex sign language. "I didn't know what anything was or what anything meant. I was little more than an animal, trapped in my void of blackness. I think I would have stayed like that forever, if it hadn't been for my Teacher."
My heart skipped another beat as I read that.
When asked about her journey as an academic scholar, Kinomoto opens up with a passion that is rarely found in many of today's scholarly minds.
"My Teacher instilled a passion for learning within me," she says. "If I have become anything today, I owe it all to him for grabbing my hand, leading me out of the darkness and setting me on this path. He taught me how to fight. He taught me how to be independent. He taught me that, while traversing a road, the journey itself proves more enriching than the ultimate goal. I have just been experiencing my own academic journey and enjoying every step of the way."
"Wow," I said out loud, unable to believe it still. "She's – she really -"
"And to think I was going to let her slide by because she was blind and deaf!" Yamazaki said, a bit sheepishly. "And now look at her! She's getting her Ph. D. today!"
I fixed him with an incredulous glare.
"Today?" I inquired.
"Well, tonight," Yamazaki corrected himself. "There's a ceremony at Tomoeda Hall. At seven, in the auditorium."
"Tomoeda Hall," I repeated. "I'll be there."
"You have to," Yamazaki said seriously. "As her teacher, you owe it to her."
I owed so much more to her than that. Thank God I wasn't too late.
-
I was waiting in front of the building half an hour before the ceremony was scheduled to begin. I learned from an usher that the graduates were already indoors. My heart began to beat faster as I stared at Tomoeda Hall, imagining Sakura in there.
She was getting her Ph. D. today. She must have been feeling so proud. So happy.
And the best part was that she harboured no resentment in her heart toward me. At least, I deduced that much from reading her words in the newspaper article. I wondered what she was thinking right now. Maybe she was sitting down, still as a doll, and focusing her thoughts on me.
Teacher, wherever you are, today our dream comes true...
I wanted to see her again. Wanted to see her in that robe. More than anything. I had dreamed about this moment for over twenty years. This moment, when miracles happened and wishes came true.
"Li-san?" came a hesitant voice from behind me.
I stiffened and turned around slowly. I found myself staring into Nadeshiko Kinomoto's shocked face. Fujitaka was standing beside her, and his face wore a similar expression of disbelief.
"You came!" was all Nadeshiko could say, her eyes dancing with joy.
"I did," I told her in a shaky voice. "I – I couldn't stay back any longer and I came back. I can't make any excuses for the time I've been gone -"
"You did what you had to do," Fujitaka said softly before he spotted another woman and his eyes lit up.
"Tomoyo!" he called cheerfully. "Come here, and bring Eriol and Tai with you!"
I froze. Tomoyo? She was the reason I left Tomoeda all these years ago! How could I face her – how could she face me -?
But then my thoughts were cut short as a middle-aged Tomoyo approached us, confusion in her eyes.
"What's going on -?" she asked before her eyes rested on me. Her mouth dropped open in surprise.
"Li-san?" she exclaimed. A faint pink blush appeared on her cheeks.
I nodded curtly.
"Tomoyo," I said, a little bit colder than I intended to. "It's been a long time."
"Who's this?" a new voice asked.
I stared at the man who had spoken. He had appeared by Tomoyo's side. He was about my height, with navy hair, intelligent dark eyes and wire-rimmed glasses. He must have been about Tomoyo's age, if not a couple of years older. And standing beside them was a boy, about seven years old. He had navy hair and violet eyes that looked exactly like Tomoyo's.
I got it in a flash, before a stuttering Tomoyo introduced her husband, Eriol and her son, Tai.
"So you got married after all," I commented lightly. "I should have come back here years ago, then."
My voice was a little more bitter than I expected.
Nadeshiko rested her hand on my arm.
"It's okay," she said gently. "What's done is done. Today's a day of celebration, you know."
"Yeah," I grinned. It felt strange, to be smiling again. I don't think I'd smiled a true smile since returning to Hong Kong. "Sakura's getting her doctorate in art history. Yamazaki told me. And I read the article about her in the newspaper."
"I never, ever imagined this to happen to her," Fujitaka said in a hollow voice. "Ever since that accident – I never dared hope that she would be able to accomplish this. And now my daughter has a physician's degree! I feel like the luckiest man on the planet: both my daughters grew up accomplished."
He gave Tomoyo an expectant glance. She blushed and looked down. It was obvious that she had grown out of her anxieties and bitterness. Clearly, she was mortified over her behaviour in the past, and I decided to forgive her. It was just a poor handling of childish emotions. Whatever happened had happened because we were all foolish and rash and unable to think straight. We had all overreacted and made thoughtless decisions. It sounded painful. I had lost ten years of my life, simply because we had been robbed of our sanity for a few moments.
"It is incredible," I agreed softly. "Even I – I never dreamed past a Master's degree for her. Trust Sakura to push herself."
"Thank you, Li-san," Nadeshiko said softly, staring at me with the eyes that haunted me for the last ten years. "I don't know by what twist of fate I called you for help, more than twenty years ago, but I'll never regret that I did. Or forget all that you've done for Sakura. If she's anything today, it's because of you."
I shook my head.
"I didn't do anything," I told her. "I haven't even been here for the last ten years -"
"That's not true," Nadeshiko replied with a slight smile. "Why do you think Sakura has been driving herself this hard all these years? She could have stopped at the Master's degree. Why do you think she chose to continue with a Physician's?"
She gave me a look that made my insides lighten and my heart swell with hope. I didn't answer her question, but somehow in my heart I knew, that whatever I felt for Sakura, she felt it right back. And that was one of the best feelings I had experienced in my life.
"Come in," Nadeshiko told me, grabbing my arm and hauling me into the auditorium. It was a giant room, with a high arched ceiling, stained glass windows and deep, rich oaken floors. A red carpet covered the floor and the altar, and there was an array of plush velvet chairs. Eriol, Tomoyo and Tai sat somewhere in the middle, but I followed Nadeshiko and Fujitaka to the very first row. We were seated directly in front of the speaker's podium. I glanced at Sakura's parents curiously. They were exchanging meaningful glances. What was going on?
Somewhere in the building, the bells tolled slowly. It was seven o'clock.
The auditorium filled up quickly with parents and relatives of the graduating scholars, all dressed in their best. I felt relieved for taking the time to change into a suit that afternoon before arriving at Tomoeda Hall. It did seem like a formal event and this was the moment I waited for over twenty years. I had to be dressed well.
Yamazaki was there, and as the dean of the university, he had the honours of conducting the introductory remarks.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he said in a formal voice that sounded strange on him. Or maybe it was because we had always been friends and never heard each other in professional environments.
"We are gathered here today to celebrate the remarkable achievements of our graduating class," he continued, smiling a little. "I'm sure that all of you must be impatient to see them, so I'll call our graduates onstage now, without further ado."
Applause filled the auditorium as the graduates walked onto the altar and sat down the chairs set for them. There were fifty of them, Nadeshiko told me. She was about to point out Sakura to me, but I already recognized her.
She didn't have her cane with her, but instead allowed herself to be led to her seat by another woman, one of the professors, maybe. She seated herself gracefully and stared into the audience, lips still smiling her trademark smile.
I had a clear view of her from where I sat, and I could see that ten years had changed Sakura very slightly. She was no longer a child. That pale sparkling purity that had swathed her the last time I saw her, snuggled against her pillows, was gone. She was a woman now. It was there in her posture. Her erect shoulders, her demure folded hands. The way she held her head high and proud, despite the fact that she was blind-deaf.
It was a dream come true. And when I saw the black robe she wore, complete with the hat on her head, I felt a tear slide down my face. A tear of joy.
Sakura shifted in her seat. Her empty eyes swept the auditorium before resting directly on mine. Her smile widened and her eyes lit up. She knew I was there. Only God knew how. She was blind and she was deaf. But she knew I was sitting there. Somehow.
"Before we present the graduates with their well-earned degrees," Yamazaki said, hushing the hall with his echoing words, "we will hear a few words from our student speaker. I'm sure you all know of her. She's been a part of our university for many years now. A perfect example of dedication, determination and self-belief, she has struggled against the overwhelming odds to stand here tonight. On behalf of the faculty of this university, we are proud to present Kinomoto Sakura."
There was a warm smattering of applause as Sakura got up and made her way to the podium. Another tear made its way down my face, and then another.
From beside me, Nadeshiko got up and made her way to the podium, beside her daughter. I saw them exchange a quick word before Nadeshiko stood in front of the podium, Sakura's hands in hers.
"Good evening," she said, her calm even voice belying the tears shining in her eyes. "I am Sakura's mother, Nadeshiko Kinomoto. I will be translating what Sakura says tonight."
Sakura was still for a few moments before her hands began to move. And I stared at her hands, watching how they moved fluidly and gracefully. Remembered how those fingers were wild and savage, and how I had tamed them. Taught them the language of words and knowledge. And now they moved like the strokes of a brush on a blank canvas. I needed no translator to understand what she needed to say. All I had to do was look into her eyes.
"All my life, they told me it was impossible," Nadeshiko said, eyes fixed on her daughter's hands. "From the moment I entered this university until a few moments ago, I have been attacked by doubt and despair. What took everyone one year to accomplish, took me three. What one person could describe in one word, I had to describe using lengthy, awkward sentences. Since the beginning of my university years, I have always been left behind. Hampered by my handicaps."
There was silence. I could tell that everyone in the auditorium was eager to hear the story of a blind-deaf girl who had managed to earn a Ph. D. in a university meant for unimpaired students.
"It was difficult," Nadeshiko translated on as Sakura's hands moved continuously. "It was tiring. It was draining. At times I would sit down and wonder why I had to do this. Why I had to earn a degree when millions of other blind-deaf people like me got by on basic sign language."
There was a pause as Sakura collected her thoughts. Her hands began to move again.
"I had to show the world," Nadeshiko's voice quavered a little as she spoke, "what I was made of. I couldn't rest until I had proven to the world just how wrong it was. They told me that my dreams were impossible. Now, I stand here today with the black robe of graduation on my shoulders and a Physician's Degree in my hands. I have struggled and fought with the world, and tonight, I can tell the world this. Even in the word 'impossible', lie the words 'I'm possible'."
The silence grew more pronounced. I sat there, spellbound. Was this the same Sakura I had fought with over twenty years ago? The same girl I had thrown into the fountain in hopes that she receive enlightenment? I couldn't see the fifteen-year-old Sakura anywhere in the woman who stood in front of me. More tears were sliding down my face. Shivers went down my spine. Adrenaline pumped in my veins. I felt like I was on fire. This was the happiest moment of my life.
"Getting here today has been the most difficult and exhausting thing that I have ever done in my life," Nadeshiko said, translating faithfully and accurately. "But I don't regret it. The journey has been long and hard, but it had so much to offer. Experience. Lessons. A teacher who fought the world so that I could be where I was at the time."
I froze, staring into Sakura's eyes. They were fixed on mine again.
"He taught me how to think. He taught me how to know. He taught me how to communicate and read and dream. He was my teacher, in every aspect of my life. I'm fortunate to have had such a figure in my life. Someone who saw past the blankness of my eyes and the emptiness of my ears. Someone who was willing to take my hand and set me on this path. Someone who fought me, my family, and the rest of the world every step of the way, just to see me work at fulfilling our dream. I can honestly say that I've touched God. Felt God. Talked to God. Except I call him Teacher."
I wiped my eyes hastily, but that was a useless gesture as more tears slid out of my eyes anyway. Sakura continued, and I wished she would stop. If she had any idea what her words were making me go through...but I deserved it. I'd made her go through worse hell than this.
Nadeshiko's face was wet too as she eyed her daughter's hands appraisingly.
"At the end of this journey, all I can say is this," she said. "No matter what you strive for, no matter what dream you work to fulfill, always be grateful to what you have already. Thank God for your mother and your father. Thank God for your peers, your professors and your friends. And last but not least, thank yourself for being where your accomplishments have led you. I can thank myself for slaving away all these years to earn my degree. But I cannot forget to thank God for my parents' support and belief in me. Nor can I ever forget to thank my Teacher for making me the person standing before you today."
Sakura paused. There were tears running down her face too.
"When you stand with sorrow and doubt, you stand alone," Nadeshiko spoke, translating Sakura's last words. "But when you walk with confidence and assurance, the world walks with you. I hope that those who have heard my story can now walk more confidently, more assuredly. So that they too, can enjoy the journey as the world walks with them."
And with those remarks, Sakura bowed and seated herself again. Yamazaki hurried to the podium, thanking Nadeshiko politely as she made her way to sit beside me. I didn't say a word to her. Yamazaki was speaking again, but I couldn't pay attention to what he was saying. All I could hear was Nadeshiko's voice echoing Sakura's words. And throughout that entire evening, her blind eyes were fixed on me.
The one moment I remember vividly, aside from her speech, was when she stood up and received her degree from Yamazaki and another professor. I sat there, numb and tingly all over. I was both hot and cold. I was delirous with excitement, yet oddly calm. It was an incredible feeling.
Two seats down, Fujitaka snapped picture after picture of her receiving her degree. I mentally resolved to send one to Meiling, as I'd promised to do so years and years ago.
And then, all of a sudden, the ceremony was over. Ushers were clearing the seats away and the graduates came down from the altar to mingle with their relatives and guests. I could see Sakura, standing beside her mother, still by the altar. They were surrounded by people, asking questions, congratulating her on her success, wishing her luck for the future. Sakura took it all in stride, and replied, her hands moving agilely. I stared at her, wondering when I could talk to her once more. Feel her hands against mine. Tell her I was so sorry I had left her behind in the first place.
The moment seemed unreal when we finally found ourselves face to face. She had wandered away from the circle of people, and I chose that moment to walk toward her. I was right behind her when she stifferened and turned around immediately. There was a shine in her eyes as her blank eyes stared at me.
And then she threw her arms around me, and in between her wild laughter and sobs, I could hear the little explosive breath she let out.
"Tee!"
Her arms were around my shoulders and neck, her face pressed into my chest and she was crying. Crying like a little girl. Something came over me and I wrapped my arms around her, never wanting to let go. This was the moment that made my life worth something. The one moment that made my life meaningful. I wouldn't have cared if I'd simply dropped dead the next morning. I would have gone gladly, I think. Because I'd seen enough to give me eternal happiness. Sakura wasn't mad at me. She had earned a Ph. D. And we were together again. For good.
She broke away from me, gasping for breath.
I did it, she signed feverishly. I did it. For you more than for me. I did it for us.
And at that moment, all my control gave way. I cried the way I had cried on my way back to Hong Kong ten years ago. But these were tears of piercing joy. And if each tear came with this much happiness, then I'd be prepared to spend the rest of my life crying.
You did it, I signed back. We were both crying now. You fulfilled our dream. I always knew you were my miracle.
She buried herself deeper into my arms, and I tightened my hold around her. This was the girl who was now a woman and the only reason my life had purpose. This was the woman I had fought the world for, and this was the woman I knew I would spend the rest of my life with. This was Sakura. The blind-deaf woman I'd fallen in love with. My student, who I knew loved me dearly in return.
I pressed my lips against her hair and wiped her tears away. There would be time to live the rest of life later. In the morning, maybe I'd bring up my intentions with Fujitaka and Nadeshiko. In time, they'd see their dreams fulfilled, as would I. Of watching Kinomoto Sakura become Sakura Li. That thought still sends trembles of excitement running through my veins.
But at that moment, nothing else seemed to matter. She was in my arms and I was with her and she was wearing the black robe of graduation. Only one word could ever describe that moment. Perfection.
I could see Sakura's parents smiling at us knowingly. I could see Yamazaki shaking his head and muttering something about knowing something all along. I could even see Tomoyo looking at us with soft eyes, Eriol's arm around her waist and Tai standing by her side. That question was still in her eyes.
"You could have been rich and powerful, and have everything you always wanted. But why did you give it all up for…for servant's work?"
At that moment, I could have laughed out loud. Of course I could have been rich. I could have been powerful. But I'd never have everything I always wanted. Because in the end, all I ever wanted was her. Sakura. And as long as I held her in my arms, I knew everything would be alright.
As long as she was with me, my life had a destination. Her journey to the light had just finished. Our journey together had just begun.
With her by my side, I don't ever want this journey to end.
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D i s c l a i m e r : I do not own Card Captor Sakura or the plotline of Black (which is in essence a spin off of the Helen Keller story. I don't own that either).
A / N : And it finally COMPLETE! The very first fanfiction I've ever completed! Tell me what you thought of it (complaints about length will be regarded with amusement :P)
Today is Thursday. In exactly TWO DAYS, I will be posting a preview to my next upcoming CCS fic, titled Literary. It's, in essence, the story of a fanfiction author and her beta. I believe many of you out there will be able to relate. Again, watch out for it on Saturday, July 7th. Further previews are posted on my profile or my writing journal.
Until then!
- Celestiana
