A/N: Hello. Remember me? You know, the one who promised to update within six to ten days but actually took three weeks? Hi again. So, um... yeah. This chapter took a teensy bit longer than I had thought.

I'm not going to take the next hour apologizing on my late update because it would fill up twenty pages. Just know that I'm really, really, REALLY sorry for taking so long. It's just that I have at least two and a half hours worth of homework everyday—more on the weekends—and I'm exhausted by the end of the day. I also wake up at 4:00 every morning to do even more homework. Not to mention I do work in school before school and during lunch. I have no life. Now that my summer reading (Remember? I mentioned it years ago?) essay prompts are done and over with, I'm a little more relaxed. Still, I think I failed the religion prompt. Didn't even finish... Please be compassionate and not yell at me. I'll try to work as fast as I can on the next chapter.

Argh, you updated before I did, Deprived of Chocolate! You know what, I'm just going to call you Choco, because it sounds so much cuter.

Warning: This chapter is even less exciting than the previous chapter, but it's still important. I would have made it longer, but that would have taken me another week, and I really don't want to wait anymore. Go reread Choco's work. Hers is packed with emotion.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Card Captor Sakura.

F o r g e t – M e – N o t

B y : E n t r a n c i a

Chapter Four: Third

A killer headache. That was what Sakura woke up to sometime later. That, and pain. All over.

Ugh, my head, was her first thought.

Then, Where am I?

She was obviously laying flat on her back, with nothing underneath her, because when she opened her eyes she was greeted by the sky. The night sky. Just how long had she been out?

More importantly, what happened?

She heard soft footsteps coming from her left side. Instinctively she sat up, but was forced back down by the pain that burst from every inch of her body. Her head accidentally slammed onto the ground. Stars exploded before her eyes.

"Owwww," she moaned.

The footsteps quickened and stopped when they reached her. A figure sat down next to Sakura.

"Please try not to move," the person said quietly, calmly. She assumed it was male by the deep voice. "I've treated your injuries as best as I could, but you are still very sore. Take this. It should help with your head."

Sakura tilted her head. It—he was holding something wrapped inside a napkin and a bottle with liquid inside. Sakura squinted at them, but it hurt her face to do so.

He saw her looking. "It's medicine and water," he explained, still keeping his voice down. "The pill will help reduce your headache." He held out the items, expecting her to take them.

She didn't. She only stared at him vacantly, remembering the rule she created: Never show emotion.

After a few seconds, the boy placed the water and medicine on the ground. He stood up. "I'll be right back. Please, take the medicine. I went through... a lot of trouble obtaining it," he said, somewhat mysteriously. He left.

She watched his retreating form kept her face a blank, revealing nothing. Inside her head, however... that was a different story. Conflicts arose.

He's a human. And he's talking to me. This is NOT good. He's going to recognize me, I know it! she thought frantically.

If he recognized you, why haven't you been turned in to the police? a voice that was not hers argued.

Excuse me, but who are you and what are you doing in my head?

I am that inner voice inside your mind that tells you logical things. Everybody has one.

Hah. I knew that. Oh, wait—if that's so, why do you sound like Onii-chan?

I have adopted the voice of someone close to you. Would you rather it be someone else?

I... guess so. It just doesn't seem like Onii-chan unless you insert a "monster" into your sentences, and I don't find it very normal to have my inner voice insulting me.

Very well—Here, how about this one? It is your friend Jouichi's, I believe.

Please change it if you want me to refrain from clawing at my head.

Forgive me. I have forgotten about your... delicate situation.

Just. Change. It.

Yes, yes... Does this voice please you?

Dad... Did you have to choose him?

Would you want to hear Koji's voice instead?

NO! Dad's is fine.

Good.

Sooo... Why are you talking to me again?

Oh. That. I noticed that you don't trust the boy who just went away.

How do you know that?

You haven't taken the medicine he has given you.

That's because he probably poisoned it.

You don't know that.

Yes I do. People can't be trusted.

You trusted your family.

Yeah, because they were family.

They were still people.

But I can't trust that—that—stranger! I don't even know his name!

Then get to know him. Not everyone you meet will be like your friends Jouichi and Koji.

EX-friends. And he could be like them.

I'm sure he isn't.

Why do you say that?

He seemed concerned about your condition. He's brought you medicine. He treated your wounds.

That proves nothing.

Just talk to him. I'm sure his kindness is sincere.

...

...

...

Well?

...Fine. I'll talk to him. But if he turns out to be a rapist, I'm blaming you.

Of course.

The boy came back then, carrying her roller blades. Sakura hadn't moved. He frowned. "Why didn't you take the pill? It would really help that headache of yours."

Sakura carefully sat up—wincing at her aching body—to ask him for his name. However, different words burst out of her mouth. "Did you rape me?"

She cringed. What did I say that for?

He almost dropped the roller blades. "What? No... I... didn't rape you," he said slowly.

"You could be lying."

Ehh, I might as well find out the truth.

"But I'm not. I don't lie," he said coolly, swiftly regaining his composure. He set her roller blades down.

He sounded and looked sincere, but she wasn't going to let him get away that easily. "How did I get here?" she shot at him.

"I carried you," he responded in his serene manner.

"Did you touch me in a way that was inappropriate?"

"No."

"A likely story."

"I'm glad you see it my way."

"You know what I meant!" She tried to glare at him, but she was unsuccessful because her head began to throb painfully and without warning. Her hand involuntarily went to her head to try to stop the dizziness. In an instant, the boy was there to steady her, his hands on her shoulders.

"Thank you," she said automatically. Then she lifted her head, and, as green eyes met blue, she realized what just slipped out of her mouth and slapped the boy away. "Don't touch me!" she shouted, backing up as far as she could go, which wasn't very far. There was about two feet of space between Sakura and the brick wall behind her. As soon as she became aware of that and the fact that there were two other walls, something else came to her attention. The place she was in was narrow and long. It was also outside, which could only mean one thing. She was in another alleyway.

"What am I doing in an alley?" she asked, momentarily forgetting the conversation they had five seconds earlier.

The boy sighed. "If I tell you, will you promise not to hit me?" He didn't appear to be joking.

Sakura paused. He was obviously suggesting that she was not going to like what he was about to say. But his question made her relax, if only slightly. It didn't sound like something a bad person would say. Maybe her inner voice was right. The boy might be harmless after all.

"I won't hit you," she assured him.

"Then may I sit next to you?" he asked, almost timidly, as if afraid of her reply.

"Go ahead," she said, barely hesitating this time. She was nearly sure he wasn't a rapist now. Rapists would never ask for permission.

Or would they? came her inner voice, sounding just like her father.

You again? Weren't you just telling me to try to trust the boy?

Yes, but my job is to mess with you. You'll see how irritating I can be.

Great.

The boy settled down against the wall beside her, and she could see him a little better. His dark hair looked navy blue in the night, so she guessed that it was black. She could also see that his deep blue eyes were bespectacled, and they seemed permanently grave. He suddenly looked up. Sakura looked straight into his eyes and saw a bit of his uncorrupted soul, and she knew he could see a part of hers: her distrustful, hardened one. Hurriedly she turned away, but not before she saw what was in that nonchalant gaze. She blinked. Hidden behind that seriousness was a spark of something... different. Was that mischief she saw?

The boy sighed again and leaned back. "I suppose first things first. I'm sorry," he said solemnly.

Sakura was perplexed at the random apology. "For what? I thought you helped me."

He nodded. "I did help you, but it's my fault you're hurt."

She didn't understand. How was it his fault? Only if he... "You did rape me?" she said, aghast, scooting away.

He held up a hand in front of him as if to plead something... or to protect himself. "I swear on my life that I have never touched you that way. Nor anyone else," he added quickly when Sakura looked as if she were about to question him.

He seemed honest. Still...

The boy noticed her doubt. "Do I look like a rapist?" he asked.

"Well, yeah. It's always the quiet ones who crack first," said Sakura seriously.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm only joking," she said, a hint of a smile showing on her face. "Go on. Why are you apologizing?"

"Oh." He sat up straighter. "I'll just skip to what happened before you make any more nutty conclusions. I bumped into you as you turned a corner."

Sakura's jaw dropped. "You're kidding. That's it? You bumped into me? That was how I got these?" She showed him the bandages around her arms, hands, and legs.

"Actually, now that you mention it, it does seem rather pathetic," he said with a laugh. "But you weren't exactly covered head to toe with protective gear. The shirt you're wearing doesn't even have sleeves." He gestured at her tank top. It was ripped in some areas.

"I have a good reason for that," she said defensively, hastily holding together a part of her torn top that was showing too much skin, "of which I will not tell you."

"Then I won't ask," he responded smoothly. "I feel I have invaded your life far too much already."

Sakura didn't want to believe it, but she was beginning to like him. He was unlike any other person she had ever met before, this serious, kind, polite, and as much as she hated to admit it, charming boy.

"If I were you, I wouldn't look at your wounds just yet," he advised as she started to lift up a corner of the bandage around her right forearm. "Some of them are rather... intense looking."

Sakura winced. "Why am I so banged up and have this horrible headache, yet you're in perfect condition? Do you have a logical answer for that?" she demanded, slightly sour at the fact that she had fallen into his charms.

Even in the dark she could see his smile. Or smirk. "I do, actually," he said. "It's really fairly simple. I was walking and you had roller blades on. You were going very fast, and when we collided, we both were sent to the ground. Because I was wearing shoes, I saved myself from much pain and only ended up with this minor scratch." He lifted his arm, showing Sakura an untreated, nasty-looking scrape.

That doesn't look minor, she thought uneasily, averting her eyes from the bloody gash.

"But you," he said, "ended up much worse. You have that headache because your head slammed—quite hard, I'm afraid—into a nearby building when you fell. I doubt that it's damaged or fractured, but that's only a guess. I'm no doctor."

She brought her hand to her head. "So, I'm going to be okay? Nothing's wrong?"

He merely smiled and slowly uncurled his fingers. "If you take this pill you should be fine."

Sakura sighed loudly, but she took the napkin from him. She grabbed the bottle of water on the ground and unscrewed the cap. "If I die, know my ghost will haunt you forever," she warned him. She swallowed the pill and water and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

But three minutes went by with neither of them moving, and Sakura was still breathing, her head continued to pound, and she felt no changes whatsoever.

"See?" said the boy. "I didn't do anything to the medicine, seeing how you're still alive."

She scoffed. "Most poisons take time to attack the body. You'll see, I'll be dead by midnight. By the way, what time is it?"

He briefly glanced at the sky. "It should be about nine or so. You've been unconscious for ten hours."

That triggered something important in her brain. She promptly stood up, ignoring her body's painful protests. "Suppi-chan! Where's Suppi-chan?" she gasped.

The boy frowned, also getting up. He was much taller than Sakura, at least by half a foot. "Sorry, who?" he asked.

"My puppy! He's a tiny black pup with a homemade leash, just born a week ago. Have you seen him?" she cried.

"A puppy? I think I know what you're talking about. Wait here," he said and exited the alley. A minute later he returned, and in his hand sat Suppi.

"Suppi-chan!" exclaimed Sakura with relief. She hurried over and reached out her hands, but abruptly pulled them back when Suppi tried to bite her. "You're definitely my Suppi-chan," she confirmed happily.

The boy placed the pup on the ground and handed Sakura the leash. He was grinning. "It's nice to see you smiling for a change."

She pretended to not hear that. Instead, she said, "How did you find him? I last remember him running down the street before I blacked out."

He shrugged. "Truthfully, I didn't do anything. The dog—Suppi-chan, was it?—found me. I knew he was yours so I tied his leash to a street post to keep him from running away. But..." He frowned. "Does he not like you? I had to keep him from biting you numerous times."

Sakura gave another smile, although this one was more of a grimace. "No, he doesn't like me. He seems to like you, though," she said, watching Suppi try to climb up the boy's leg.

"He hasn't caused me any trouble yet," he said, gently detaching the dog from his pants.

All of a sudden Sakura remembered that she was talking to a person whose name she didn't even know. She saw her roller blades and backpack laying a few feet away. She went over to get them.

"Listen. Thanks for helping me. I'm extremely, extremely grateful and all, but I really need to... go home. My parents must be worried out of their minds," she said without looking at the boy, rapidly gathering her things.

She turned away from him. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, really, I do, but I must leave. So... bye. Let's go, Suppi-chan." She tugged on his leash and he reluctantly followed her. She made it to the entrance of the alley when she heard his reply.

"How can you go home... if there's no home for you to return to?" he asked quietly.

She froze in her tracks. Sakura moved to face him, her eyes large and fearful.

"How did you know that?" she whispered.

He smiled softly. "Your name is Kinomoto Sakura, am I right?" He took her stunned silence as a yes. "I saw you in the news. Twice, to be exact," he explained.

That gave her a jolt. "Twice?"

"Once a year ago and one just today."

"What did it say?"

He thought for a while. "I think the first one mentioned that you were a seventeen-year old girl, the only surviving Kinomoto of a fire, last seen wearing—"

"I meant the one today!"

"Oh. Not much. It just repeated what it said a year ago, and that you had been spotted a day before."

"That's impossible," murmured Sakura. "How did they know...?"

"You don't look that different from the photo on TV," he pointed out. "The only differences are your hair and—excuse me—your weight."

"Then help me!" she cried suddenly, desperately. She dug into her backpack and pulled out a pair of scissors. She ran up to the boy and thrust it into his hands. "I can't do anything about my weight, but I can change my hair. Do me this favor and cut it for me," she begged.

"You want a complete stranger who knows nothing about hair cutting to be your barber?"

"I don't care! Just do it!" Sakura turned around with her back to him. "If it's ugly, who'd care? I wouldn't be recognizable that way."

"You're sure about this?" he asked. "Your hair is very pretty."

"Yeah, I love my hair, but it's also a nuisance, too long, and a pain to wash. Just help me out this once and I'll erase any thoughts I have about you being a rapist. I'd like it if you take off six inches or so."

"Well, if you're certain... You can let go of Suppi-chan. He won't run away."

She was unwilling, but she released the leash. To her surprise, Suppi only sat down and watched them.

"Okay, then..." She felt the boy lift up a section of her hair. "Hold your breath."

She held her breath. Then she heard the snip of the scissors.

"Farewell, my beautiful auburn locks," she proclaimed theatrically as several strands of her hair floated away.

He separated another small segment of hair. "You're pleasant to be around once you got over your paranoia, did you know that?"

She mumbled something inaudible.

"Could you say that again?" Snip.

She said it a little louder.

"I didn't quite catch that," said the boy, smiling because he did hear her.

"I'm sorry, okay?" she said loudly. She lowered her voice a bit. "I really am, though. It's just... I have problems with trusting people."

Behind her, he nodded. "Ah, mysterious issues regarding your past. I understand completely. I have my own personal problems, too." Snip, snip.

"Mind telling me?"

"Ah... I do."

"Okay, then. I respect that. Can I at least learn your name?"

"I'd rather not tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because you have no reason to know my name." A slow, careful snip.

"But that isn't fair!" exclaimed Sakura. "You know my name. Why can't I know yours?"

Snip. "Fine. If you must know, my name is Eli," he said.

She furrowed her brows. "Is that your real name? It's kind of odd."

"Yes. No. Well, it was in England."

"You lived in England?"

"I used to." Snip, snip.

"That makes sense. Eli sounds very English. But what is your real name then?" she asked.

"Hiiragizawa Eriol."

"Hiiragizawa," she repeated.

"Eriol is fine." Snip.

"That sounds foreign, too."

"Like I said, I was born in the west."

"Oh. Then you can call me Kinomoto."

Eriol brushed off some of her hair off his shirt. "I can't call you by your given name?"

Sakura shrugged. "There's no need to get too friendly. It's not like we're going to see each other again, right?"

"Correct. We will definitely never cross paths again." Many quick snips.

A pause followed.

"I take it we'll be seeing each other quite often, then, for whatever reason?" said Sakura.

"Most likely," agreed Eriol.

"In that case, you have permission to call me Sakura."

"Same with me, but call me Eriol, not Sakura."

She smiled. Snip, snip, snip—

"Oops."

"Oops? What do you mean by oops?" she asked worriedly. She turned around and saw Eriol with a lengthy piece of her hair in his hands.

She gaped at him. "Just how much did you cut off?"

Silently, he gestured high up his neck.

"That much?"

He hung his head, looking guilty. Then he dropped to his knees and took her hands in his. "My deepest apologies. I swear on my life that it was not a deliberate act. Will you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?" He stared up at her with his deep blue eyes.

Sakura laughed, her first genuine laugh in a long while that was directed at a person. "Oh, stop acting like such a drama king. Yes, I'll forgive you. It's just hair. It will grow back eventually." She pulled her hands out of his and turned around again. "Go on, cut off the rest. I've always wanted to see what it was like with short hair. Oh," she added, "and give me bangs, okay? Bangs are pretty."

"Are you hinting that you trust me now?" Eriol started sectioning off parts of her hair.

Her response didn't come right away. "I trust you, but not completely," she said carefully. "That's understandable, right? I mean, I've only just met you. I don't know anything about you, your past, or any criminal records you may have had."

Snip. "I assure you that my record is clean. But I admit that my past is a little rough."

"Rough?"

"Let's just say that you wouldn't want to know about some of the details. Now, may I request your silence so I can finish?"

"What? Oh. Sorry."

Sakura shook her head, marveling at how short her hair was. "Well? How is it?" she asked.

Eriol made a face. "I wouldn't look in the mirror if I were you."

She ran her hand through her hair. "Is it that bad? I think you did a good job. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"You don't have to be so formal. A simple 'no problem' would do."

"Of course."

She opened her backpack. "I never realized how heavy my hair was until it was gone. I think I'll keep it this way." She got out her slightly damp cap and put it on. She also slipped her shoes back on. "How do I look?" she asked. She spread out her arms and twirled around.

He surveyed her. "Pretty," he answered honestly.

She smiled shyly, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "Thank you."

"And different."

"That's good. I was aiming for different. Will people be able to recognize me, do you think?"

"It's not likely," he said, "but I think you need a bodyguard to be safe."

Sakura was confused. "A... bodyguard? Someone who goes wherever I go?"

"Right."

"Who would you recommend?"

"Myself."

"You?" said Sakura incredulously. "But won't your parents get worried if you're constantly with me?" She then noted that Eriol's expression shifted, and she immediately added, "Not that I'm implying that you're the type of guy who still lives with his mother. I mean—I don't think you look old or anything, just older than I am. Not that I'm very old, but... um..." She was babbling, feeling nervous at the thought of having a bodyguard. Conversing with a real person and not a little black puppy.

But Eriol only smiled at her stammering. "I left home already."

"You live in an apartment?"

"No. I ran away."

That was unexpected. And shocking. He couldn't possibly mean... "You—you don't have a home?" she said slowly.

"I don't."

"As in... you're homeless? Like me?"

"Do you find it that hard to believe?"

"Extremely. Oh, Kami." She leaned against the side wall and slid to the ground. She looked up at him. "How do you manage to look so well taken care of?"

"I'll tell you, but will you let me follow you around all day long?" Then he flinched. "That sounded very creepy, didn't it?"

Sakura smiled but didn't say anything. Instead, she stood and picked up her roller blades, backpack, and the sleeping Suppi, whom she gave to Eriol to hold.

"I'll show you the way to my tree house."

Eriol looked around the wooden room with a light wonder. He walked over to the television and dragged a finger through the dust gathered at the top.

"That doesn't work," Sakura informed him. "I don't think it has functioned for a long time."

"Really?" He pressed the ON button located at the bottom of the TV. The screen flickered several times, and then a picture appeared, lighting up the dark room. "It appears to be working okay."

Sakura gasped. "But—it never worked when I turned it on!" she exclaimed. She joined Eriol at the TV. She pressed the same button, turning the television off, and pressed it again. Nothing. "How did you do that?" she asked.

He gave a modest shrug and smile. "I only pushed the button, that's all. Nothing else. Perhaps you didn't press hard enough?" he offered.

She frowned. "That could be it... hmm?" She noticed something about the television. "Hey, wait a minute! This thing isn't connected to any cables or wires or anything!" she cried.

Eriol shrugged again. "It's probably running on faulty batteries."

"But—"

"Is that the only thing to sleep on?" he cut in, indicating the maroon couch.

"Yeah. What about it?'

"There's only one," he said.

Sakura stared at him. "One? Oh—OH! Damn, there's only one..." she said stupidly.

"You use it, then. You got here first," said Eriol. He put Suppi down, who woke up, and started for the entrance of the tree house.

"No!" She stopped him. "If you're going to travel with me, you don't have to be so chivalrous all the time. You can take the couch. I'll just find a spot outside in the tree." She waited for Eriol to speak.

He looked like he was thinking. "I wonder..." he began cautiously. "I wonder if we can both fit on the couch."

"The two of us?" That hadn't occurred to Sakura. She thought about it. "It could work out, I guess," she said finally. "Just promise you won't—try anything, okay?"

He feigned hurt. "Why, Sakura-san, I thought you were over that," he said.

She pushed him playfully. "I am over it. But you're still a boy and boys get tempted—"

He shook his head. "Not me. I've been raised a gentleman. You have my word that I won't do anything."

"Promise?" She glanced at him.

"Promise."

"Good. And you can drop the -san. It's only Sakura now."

"All right. Same with me."

Sakura picked up Suppi's leash and tied it around her wrist. "Better safe than sorry," she explained. She moved to the old couch and sat down. Eriol did the same, placing a respectable distance between them.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked.

"Too comfortable, really," said Sakura. "At least it's cleaner than those contaminated alleys."

He nodded in agreement. "Goodnight, Sakura."

"Goodnight... Eriol."

"Arf," said Suppi, which probably translated to something along the lines of, "Goodnight, Master Eriol."

And that was the start of their seven month long journey.

A/N: Voilà. Sakura has her prettyful short hair now.

I think I may have rushed the Eriol/Sakura trust relationship. One minute she's accusing him of being a rapist and the next minute she's letting him tag along with her. But it was the only way I could get Eriol to meet Tomoyo. Oh, and regarding the singer, she will make an appearance very soon. I can't bear to go too far without my favorite character.

From now on, I can't guarantee that I'll be able to update within a certain period of time. I can only squeeze in about an hour of writing a day, and I am one the slowest writers on the face of the earth. I never could finish timed essays in school.

I'm just going to stop squealing whenever I get a review. 'Cause I'll start jumping for joy even if I only have one. I do love every single one of my reviewers, and I REALLY appreciate that you took the time to tell me your opinions. By the way, go ahead and point out any and all mistakes you see in my fic, even if I forgot a period. I don't like to proofread my work so some chapters may be laced with errors. Okay? Thankies!

Do you think my Author's Notes are too long? I always have so much to say.

Until next time,

- Mimi