A/N: I'm really too tired to type up a decent Author's Note. I'll type a better one at the bottom.
(Haha... Monday. You probably thought I meant the Monday before last Monday, didn't you, Choco? I thought I did, too. Sooo... Sorry about that. I'm just going to stop making promises about updates. Because I'm never going to keep them.)
Without further ado, I present the next chapter of Forget-Me-Not. Go ahead. Read it. I think you'll like it. I hope you like it. I worked my butt off to complete it.
By the way, all temperatures are in Celsius 'cause that's how they do it in Japan.
Disclaimer: Must they torture us so by making us state that we don't own this masterpiece of a creation over and over again? I DON'T OWN CARDCAPTOR SAKURA.
F o r g e t – M e – N o t
B y : E n t r a n c i a
Chapter Five: Aid
During the next seven months, Eriol remained a mystery to Sakura. After getting over the shock of finding out that his hair really was navy blue—and naturally like that, no less—she tried to find out more about his life. But her attempts proved futile. Eriol, who seemed so friendly and willing to talk, would only give her a sad smile and instantly change the subject. From the limited information he did share with her, Sakura came to several conclusions.
One: Eriol had a troubled past.
Two: His family was a sensitive topic.
Three: This was going to be tougher than she thought.
It was generally easy to travel with Eriol and Suppi journeying along with her. Eriol never complained about being hungry, about being tired, or about Sakura's complaints about such things. Nothing ever seemed to bother him, except whenever Sakura would try to strike up a conversation about his previous life in England.
I will find out the truth, Sakura had thought determinedly. But for now, I'll stay quiet.
Suppi wasn't a hassle at all... when it wasn't her turn to keep watch of him. The dog had grown really attached to Eriol, and as long as he was nearby, Suppi would behave. On occasion, Eriol had to leave Suppi in Sakura's care, and things weren't so smooth. Lately, the dog seemed to be going through a stage of something similar to teenage rebelliousness. He pointedly ignored Sakura and would refuse to obey any of her commands. When Eriol returned, Suppi would act like a perfect angel, and Sakura would not even bother complaining. She wouldn't complain, though. Suppi was the only thing she had left to remind her of her family, besides her old clothes, some miscellaneous items, and the squeaky bone she had bought before. She gave it to Suppi when he started teething. The squeaking irritated her to no end, but she endured.
It wasn't that he was running around chasing cars or biting people. He was actually the opposite. As the dog grew in size, he grew less troublesome. He wasn't the curious, bouncy puppy he was seven months before. Now he was more relaxed and, not lazy, exactly, but calm. And intelligent. Sakura swore that the dog could read when she saw him with a book open before him. That could have been Eriol's doing, but it wasn't likely. His pranks were never that childish.
A couple of days after the two met, Sakura and Eriol devised a plan together. After much thought, planning, and revising, they came up with one. Eriol wouldn't follow Sakura all day long if he did not want to be accused of stalking her. Instead, they would spend some days together—because even Sakura had to confess that being alone was often terribly depressing—and other days they would go their separate ways. On those days they would select an area to meet at to head off for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. According to the blue-haired boy, Sakura wasn't permitted to fret over "petty" things like what to eat. Everyday, Eriol would present her with a bag full of food, often fruit. He would not tell her how he got his hands on enough food to feed the three of them, so she stopped asking. Only time would open him up.
She had no clue what he and Suppi did when they split up, but she knew that if she asked, he wouldn't tell her. He could be frustrating sometimes!
Sakura hugged herself, shivering at the sudden gust of wind that reminded her that winter was not quite over. She looked around to locate a place of temporary refuge and saw the library where she and Eriol were supposed to meet. She hurried inside the sanctuary of warmth.
The clock in the library told her that it was about four-forty-five. She had an hour and fifteen minutes before Eriol arrived. She needed something to kill time. Oh, what to do...
She smacked her forehead. I am such an idiot, she thought. Of course! Books! But which one...?
She pulled her cap down as low as it would go. "Excuse me," she said politely to a librarian uninterestedly shelving encyclopedias. "What books would you recommend for reading for pleasure?" she asked.
The librarian quickly shoved an atlas into a shelf and turned around, scaring Sakura with huge grin on her face. She was a fairly young librarian, maybe in her late twenties. "Oh, lots!" she said excitedly. "I know many books that would be perfect for you! Wait here!"
Sakura blinked at the woman's abrupt change of attitude, but she obeyed and sat down at a table. She had no choice but to spend a quarter of an hour watching the librarian run around everywhere, occasionally tossing a book or two at the table where Sakura was seated. A single book rapidly expanded into a mountainous pile of literature of all varieties: drama, historical fiction, romance, adventure, mystery, horror—all the genres Sakura could think of and several more. When it came to the point where she had to hold the pile down in order for it to not spill over, she stopped the librarian by lightly touching her arm.
"I'm sure these are all lovely books, but I only need one or two," she said. "You see, I'm just waiting for a friend and I needed something to pass time."
"Oh." The librarian calmed down a bit. "Why didn't you say that before? I know just the ones." She sorted through the pile she had created and emerged with two books, one pink and one grey. She slid them over to Sakura. "These are relatively new, but they have earned several awards already. The girl who wrote these is a brilliant author. She is about your age and already she's working on her third novel. This one" —she indicated the pink book— "is the first book of her trilogy. The other is Book Two. You should borrow the books and take your time reading them, as they are fairly lengthy, but very good. Okay with you?"
Sakura nodded. "Thanks a bunch."
The librarian smiled. "That's what I'm here for. Come to me if you need anything else, all right?"
"Okay."
Once the librarian left, Sakura picked up the books. Umi-hime: Book One was the title of the pink one, and Daichi-hime: Book Two was the second's title. She flipped to the inside back cover, where information about the author was.
Currently living in Tomoeda, Yanagisawa Naoko is the exceptionally young author of Umi-hime and Daichi-hime, the first two books of the Hime trilogy. She was only sixteen when Umi-hime, a multiple award-winning novel, was written and published, and seventeen when Daichi-hime, its sequel, was completed. She is currently in the process of writing the conclusion to the popular trilogy.
Becoming an author has been Naoko's main ambition in life, and she is overjoyed at how successful her books have become. She had started writing at the young age of eight. At age ten, she started composing a children's fantasy book, which, she admitted, was where she got the inspiration for her novels. When questioned about her mythological beliefs, she responded with a sparkle in her eyes, "Indeed, dragons do exist, and someday we shall co-exist, with humans as their masters. Of course, either that would happen or our plan to tame the beasts would fail and they would devour us one by one. Either way, I'd be standing in the sidelines with a pen and pad of paper, ready to record down how we humans have conquered or have been conquered by dragons."
Tomoeda? thought Sakura. That's the town next to this one. We're headed there tonight. I could possibly meet her, this Yanagisawa Naoko, however weird she seems.
She opened the book to a random page and started reading.
A princess's life is never as it seems. Mine certainly isn't. Grandeur, etiquette, luxury—these are all parts of my job, but that's really only the exterior view. In reality, I am restricted of most of the joys in this world. I am forbidden to leave my kingdom. I cannot communicate with my childhood friends from the village. I am constantly expected to look like and play the part of a princess. Above all, I am a prisoner in my castle. I will someday break free of this bleak jail of a home.
The sea. Oh, I have always admired the sea. There's a huge one right behind my castle. I would sometimes sneak away from my room under the cover of the night to pay it a visit. It does look gorgeous, but I deeply wish to watch the sea in during the day. I am sure it would look very pretty and relaxing. I often fantasize about living in the sea. I would rule a magnificent kingdom with the oh-so handsome prince of the Yamakawa Kingdom (Oh, how I wish for him to be my betrothed and not that idiot Shouzou) by my side. And to my people I shall be known as Umi-hime. The sea princess.
What about queen? you may wonder. Ah, I'd be queen later. That would make me sound so old. I'd just be plain old Chizumi-hime, which actually doesn't sound so plain, does it? When Taka and I get married and have lots of babies, then I would become queen.
"Have you been waiting long?"
"AHH!"
Sakura looked up from her place on the ground, rubbing the area on her arm where it struck the table leg. Eriol stood over her, his expression one of worry.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," he said. He extended his hand to Sakura, who took it, and pulled her back onto her feet.
"I wasn't startled," she said. At Eriol's look, she said, "Okay, maybe I was, a little. But I wasn't expecting you for another hour. Why are you here early?"
Eriol picked up the book she was reading from the carpeted floor. "When we schedule a library as our meeting place, I would arrive early to catch up on my reading. But since you're already here, there's no need for me to stay. Should we go, then? I think Suppi-chan is becoming famished."
"Yeah. I'm hungry, too." Sakura pushed in her chair. Then she noticed that Eriol was walking away with Umi-hime and Daichi-hime in his hand. "Ah, Eriol—"
He stopped and she caught up to him.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Aren't you going to put those back?" she asked, pointing at the books.
"You don't want to read them?"
"I can't borrow them. I don't have a card."
"I do." Eriol flashed a red card at her. "It's okay, I'll check them out for you." He walked on.
"Eriol..." She stopped him. "How did you get a library card if you're required to give them your address, of which you don't have?"
There was that flash of childlike naughtiness in his eyes again, something Sakura always dreaded to see. The results were never good.
"This card"—he held it up for her to see it clearly—"belongs to my father. You could say that I'm... borrowing it." He was smiling.
Or smirking.
There was something wrong with that. "But... we're leaving Osaka tonight. How are you going to return—"
"I don't plan to."
"He... he has to pay..."
"Correct."
Sakura took the card to examine it. "He didn't know that you borrowed it, did he?"
"No," said Eriol cheerfully.
"Do you hate your father that much?" was what she wanted to say, but she knew Eriol wouldn't answer her. "Shall I even ask why you did it?" she said instead.
"I wouldn't, if I were you." He took the card back. "Will you let me check out the book now? Suppi-chan must be starving by this point."
Suppi-chan! "Oh! Go ahead. Sorry."
They gave the books to a librarian, who scanned it and made sure there were no illegal substances in there, and they went back outside to where Suppi stood impatiently.
Sakura went over to him and dropped down to her knees, letting her backpack slide off her shoulder. "We're sorry for taking so long. It was Eriol's fault," said Sakura, freeing him from the pole to which he was restrained. Suppi, predictably, paid her no heed and went to Eriol as soon as she untied him.
"And again, I'm ignored," declared Sakura. She heard Eriol chuckle in that almost evil way of his as she stood up. She saw that the two were already halfway down the block.
"Eriol!" she started. She picked up her backpack and slipped the straps over both shoulders. "H—hey! Eriol! Wait for me!"
Sakura stretched and fell back into the sand. She grabbed a fistful of it in each of her sticky hands, some of the sand leaking out, some adhering to her fingers. "Isn't the beach relaxing, Eriol?" she asked him.
"Very," he answered. He was lying next to her with Suppi curled up beside him. "I'm glad you suggested eating dinner here."
"You suggested it. I didn't."
"Hmm, so I did. How smart of me."
"Ha, we both know that the place I recommended was equally as good. Don't get cocky now, Hiiragizawa."
"Likewise, Kinomoto."
They were the only people on the beach. Nobody in their right minds would come to the beach at that time of year. It was mid-March, and yet temperatures rarely surpassed five degrees. Still, it was soothing to watch the sun set gradually, even if their bodies were starting to go numb from the chilly winds.
Sakura sat up, her cap falling off, and stared at her sand-coated hands. "Ah... I should get these rinsed off now," she said. She crawled over to the shore. She stuck her hands in there and waved them around. She flinched at the sharp bite of the icy water, but she kept her hands in there until the sand and the juices from the fruit she ate came off. When she removed them from the water, a thought popped into mind. It was payback time for all the mischief Eriol had caused her and innocent passersby.
She cautiously approached the relaxed Eriol, the sounds of her footsteps absorbed by the sand, her frozen hands reaching for his exposed throat. She made absolutely no noise. She even held her breath. When her fingers were less than an inch from Eriol's throat, his hand shot out with an inhuman speed and grabbed her wrist. He slowly smiled at her astonished expression.
"You can't sneak up on me. Nice try, though," he said. He released her.
She crossed her arms and pouted. "Why do you always have to be so damn perceptive of everything? I can never get you just once, can I?"
"Never."
"I swear, you must be magic or something. That's the only explanation I can come up with."
Eriol laughed it off. "Magic? Don't be ridiculous. I'm just all-seeing."
"Hmph. You're impossible."
Sakura spun around and, unexpectedly, smacked into something soft yet firm. She took a couple steps back. She blinked at it, whatever it was, and then her eyes moved upwards at a snail's pace. A black jacket. A red t-shirt. A tan neck. Red lips. An ordinary nose. And the most mystifying eyes she had ever seen. They were so light they were close to colorless. And they were staring right into Sakura's.
"Hey. What's your name?" the guy asked with a flirty smile.
His tone was friendly, but something about him made little warning bells sound inside Sakura's head, and that made her back up more.
"Why? Who wants to know?" she asked, her body tensing, ready for anything.
His smirk widened. He moved closer to her, and she kept stepping back until she bumped into Eriol. "Sorry," she whispered to him.
"The name's Yukio. May I ask for yours, little lady?" he inquired politely. Sakura wasn't fooled. She knew he was up to something.
"No, you may not," she answered coldly. She subconsciously straightened her back. "And I'm not little." She took hold of Eriol's wrist. "Let's leave, Eriol. It's getting colder."
Yukio grabbed her other wrist. "Eriol, huh? So that's your boyfriend's name."
Sakura yanked her arm free. "He's NOT my boyfriend. He's my—"
"I'm her husband," said Eriol pleasantly.
Sakura dropped his wrist at that. She stared at him in a what-the-hell-are-you-saying sort of way. He didn't glance at her, but instead stared at the man in front of him.
"Your husband," repeated Yukio.
"Right... we're married," said Sakura, not once taking her eyes off the boy who had just declared himself her spouse. What was Eriol doing?
Then Sakura caught a glimpse of the look Eriol was shooting at Yukio. It said, "She's taken." She understood now. It was obvious that the man was trying—and failing—to flirt with her, and Eriol wanted to get her out of there. She had to play along.
The guy looked thoughtful. "Is that so?" He grinned at them. "That makes this even more fun."
"Fun?" she said. "I don't know what you're talking about but my fr—husband and I have somewhere we need to be right now. Isn't that right? Sweetie?" she added for good measure.
"Yes, we really must go," Eriol confirmed.
"Perhaps we'll meet again someday," she said to Yukio, who stood there with that stupid grin on his face. "Bye."
As soon as she and Eriol turned around, Sakura felt a hand encircle around her small wrist—Yukio's.
"I insist," he said. "Stay."
Sakura tried to pull her arm free, but he held on tightly. "Let go of me!" she cried.
Yukio sighed despairingly. He didn't loosen his grip on her. "Why do you girls always have to do it the hard way? You never just say 'yes' and get it over with."
Her eyes widened. Surely he doesn't mean—
She heard Eriol grunt behind her. She started to turn her head, but Yukio roughly shoved her forward. Sakura expected to hit the soft sand, but instead she collided into something else soft. And firm. And something wrapped itself around her waist securely.
Kami-sama, not again...
She couldn't see who was holding her, but she did know one thing for sure: He liked to work out. She could feel his well-defined abs against her back. His arms around her were thick and muscular and strong.
"Meet my friend, Daisuke," said Yukio, smirking. "The guy next to you is Ryuuto."
With a shock, she saw that Eriol was also being restrained by man who of the same age, but much larger. Strangely, Eriol wasn't struggling, unlike Sakura. He just stayed still, not moving. He wasn't smiling anymore. He only stared impassively ahead.
"And over there," continued Yukio, "that's Akeno." He indicated a man near the shore. He was sitting on a wooden crate—that was emitting an ample amount of noise—grumbling something about fucking dogs and not having any fun. Out of all the men he was the shortest, and he was still taller than Eriol.
Suppi-chan, she thought. Not you, too...
Yukio, who seemed to be the leader, grinned at her. "You like my friends?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, yes. I love your friends. They are such a delightful bunch of straight-A students and goody two shoes. Why don't we all gather together inside your home so we can at least be warm when you take turns raping me?" she said, her voice laden with sarcasm.
"You and your rape accusations," she heard Eriol mutter, who obviously didn't forget the first time they met.
She glared at him. "It's true this time!" she insisted.
Yukio sauntered closer to her. He reached out and stroked her face with his hand. "Who said anything about rape, missy? By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for my friends. Believe me, girls always come crawling back for more after they've had a go with me," he said. He didn't try to conceal the arrogance in his voice.
He was going to rape her! She shot Eriol a triumphant look, seeing how she was right, but then the look abruptly shifted to one of horror. She was going to be raped! That was NOT a good thing.
Sakura, her arms of no use to her, shook her head wildly, her choppy auburn hair flying everywhere. Yukio removed his hand. He was beginning to look annoyed.
"Listen, bitch," he said in a tone that was entirely different than the one he had used earlier, "you're either going to let me do whatever I want to you and I'll let you go, or I'll be forced to use this." He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a black object. When he held it in front of her face, she realized what it was. A pocketknife. He whipped open the three-inch-long blade. The moonlight reflected off the blade, making it glint dangerously.
Sakura eyed the knife warily. "Why don't I just tell you my name? It's Sakura."
He lowered his pocketknife, but he only lowered it. He kept the blade out. "Sakura, huh? A pretty name for a pretty girl." He smirked. "But, my little flower, telling me your name isn't going to stop me. I'm still going to deflower this delicate cherry blossom." He reached out his hand to touch her face again, but he quickly retracted it when she tried to bite him. She was both disappointed and relieved that he did, disappointed because she couldn't get the satisfaction of knowing that she had hurt him, relieved because she didn't know where his man-whore fingers had been.
"You're wild. I like that in a girl," he said huskily in her ear.
"Get the fuck away from me," she hissed.
Yukio stepped back. He stuck his pocketknife into his pocket, the blade pointing up. "Well, you're certainly a unique case, aren't you?" he mused, frowning. "The other girls I've had aren't nearly as stubborn as you are. They can't resist me, it seems. Why are you different?"
She scoffed. "Because I'm not a whore."
But Sakura could see why girls thought he was irresistible. Yukio was incredibly handsome, though she would only let him know that when Hell freezes over. His long, dark brown, almost black, hair was carefully tousled to give him that sexy look that suggested he just got out of bed. (And he probably did, she thought disgustedly.) His body was one any male would work hard for: lean, lightly muscled, and tan. And looking into his grey eyes was enough to make all girls melt. At that moment, he was using them to try and see through Sakura's clothes. If her arms were free, she would have crossed them. But because they weren't, she had no choice but to let him gape.
"Nice rack," he said, looking impressed. "What are you, a D?"
"None of your business," snapped Sakura. In truth, she was only a B. She hadn't inherited Nadeshiko's model-perfect chest.
Thinking about her dead mother caused tears to spring into her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but unfortunately, Yukio noticed.
"Aw, did I make the little girl cry?" he said mockingly. "Here, I'll kiss you and make it better."
Without warning, he pressed his lips to hers in a rough kiss. Sakura's first kiss.
She acted on impulse. She bit his lower lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make him recoil with a hiss of pain. She saw his face as he drew back. He looked pissed.
"I've had it with you!" he shouted angrily. He raised his free hand and backhanded her hard, his many rings scraping painfully across her cheek. She felt something wet and warm trickle down her face. Still, she remained mute. Before he slapped her, two very important things came to her. The first was that Yukio was ready to go all the way if she didn't stop him.
The second was that Daisuke's hold on her was getting looser and looser. Loose enough for her to break free.
Her heart started pounding hard as a plan formed in her head. This could be her chance to escape. It would be risky and she could only afford to use one attempt, but her determination gave her a surge of bravery. She had to try.
Just as Yukio went to unzip her jacket, Suppi barked a rather vicious bark. Yukio briefly turned his head around, but that short distraction was all Sakura needed. She took a deep breath and ripped herself free from Daisuke.
Many things took place all at once within the next five seconds. Apparently, Eriol, who had been so still and quiet the entire time, also selected that moment to escape just as Sakura grabbed Yukio's pocketknife by the blade. She didn't see how Eriol escaped from Ryuuto's secure grip, but somehow he did. Ryuuto was now crumpled on the sand, clutching his stomach and moaning. But Sakura didn't have time to mull over that. She had Yukio's knife clasped tightly in her hand with the blade digging into her palm, drawing blood, and she didn't know what to do with it. She had only planned to threaten Yukio with it, but he didn't appear to look at all threatened. As she flipped the knife around, Eriol, even with Daisuke holding him back, charged right into Yukio from behind. And Eriol, who was half a foot shorter than Yukio, was able to move him. Yukio stumbled forward toward Sakura's outstretched hand.
The one gripping the pocketknife.
She and Yukio both gasped simultaneously: Sakura from surprise, Yukio from pain. Terrified, she pushed him back with as much strength as she could muster. He took several staggering steps back, and Eriol quickly dodged him, his blue eyes wide with disbelief. Yukio fell to his knees and started coughing, hacking, oh Kami please make it stop, that Sakura had to look away, squeezing her eyes shut. Eriol immediately followed suit.
Then the vicious coughing ceased, and all was silent. Sakura finally gained enough nerve to look up. She saw Yukio crumpled on the ground, his blood spilling onto the sand. His tall friends stood over him. The fear in their expressions had transformed the men into frightened boys.
Ryuuto lightly nudged Yukio's arm with the tip of his foot. "Yukio?" he asked quietly.
"Oh, fuck," whispered Akeno. He had left the wooden crate unattended. Suppi escaped and trotted over to Eriol silently, sensing that something was wrong.
Daisuke was the first to break free from the trance. He slowly moved backwards. He noticed Sakura and Eriol watching him, and his gradual steps shifted into a crazed run. "Akeno! Ryuuto! Let's get out of here!" he shouted over his shoulder.
The two snapped out of their daze and hastily followed Daisuke. Akeno tripped over his own feet, but he got back up again. All three shot final, fearful glances at Sakura and Eriol, and then they were gone, disappearing over a sand hill.
Sakura suddenly realized that she was still clutching Yukio's bloody pocketknife. She let out a strangled gasp and let it drop to the ground. She rushed over to the shore and feverishly splashed her hands in the water, ignoring the cold. When she straightened up, Eriol was there, and wordlessly he held out her backpack. She grabbed it, silently thanking him with her eyes, and motioned for them to leave. Suppi let Eriol pick him up, even though he wasn't a puppy anymore. They left in the direction opposite of Yukio's friends. Neither looked back at the man lying in the sand.
Sakura collapsed against the wall of a store, exhausted from the amount of running they had done. She was probably crushing some of the things in her backpack, but she didn't care. Eriol was in an even worse condition. His breathing was hoarse and he looked like he was about to faint. She had never seen him like that before. He was always so composed, no matter how much they ran.
They had no idea where Suppi was, who sprinted off when Eriol let go of him. They weren't worried. Suppi always came back.
Sakura's eyes started to close, but they popped open at the sight before her.
"Eriol!" she said shrilly. "What happened to your arm?" She pointed a trembling finger at his right forearm, where a deep and long cut stretched from below the elbow to his wrist. Even in the night, she could see that it was still bleeding freely.
Eriol half-opened his eyes. "Don't worry about me," he said dismissively, half-heartedly waving his hand. "It's just a scrape."
"Just a scrape? Eriol, I think it cut across a vein. Who did it?" demanded Sakura.
"Ryuuto," he murmured. She remembered when Eriol grunted right before she was grabbed by Daisuke. That must have been when Ryuuto wounded him.
Then she gaped at him. "You've been bleeding this entire time?"
"There's not too much blood. I'll be fine." Eriol tried to stand up, but he only made it partway before he pitched forward. Sakura caught him before he could hit the ground. Then, of course, Eriol lost consciousness.
Sakura swore to herself. She couldn't take him to a hospital; they would ask too many probing, personal questions—questions she could not answer, would not know the answer to. She didn't know how to help him, and he was getting colder by the minute. She was no expert but she had enough judgment to know that that was a bad thing. She needed help.
A girl came out of the craft store across the street then, the little ding of the bell on the door startling Sakura. She hurried to cover Eriol's arm. She saw the look of surprise flash across the girl's face. Too late. She had seen him.
"Oh my goodness," the girl cried, dropping her messenger bag on the sidewalk. She rushed over to Sakura and Eriol. She tenderly lifted Eriol's wounded arm, scrutinizing it. She got his blood all over her hands. "This is so deep.... Excuse me, but would you mind telling me what happened to him?" the girl asked.
"He—erm—got into a terrible accident," replied Sakura after a moment of listening to her inner voice argue with her on what to say. "Can you help him?"
The girl nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, of course. There's a first aid kit in my bag, I believe. Could you please fetch it for me?"
Sakura thought she misheard her. "A first aid kit? Why do you have one in your bag?"
The girl tore her eyes away from Eriol and looked at Sakura. "Please, we'll discuss later, but for now please get the kit. Your friend is steadily losing blood, and if he loses any more, there's a chance he might not make it," she said solemnly.
That shocked Sakura out of her exhaustion. She grabbed the girl's bulky messenger bag from across the street and opened it. She pulled out some various objects: a bag of ribbons, schoolbooks, a jar of buttons, an expensive-looking camcorder, two tapes, yards and yards of colorful fabric, and finally, at the bottom, a small red and white first aid kit. Sakura left the girl's things lying on the ground and went over to her with the kit.
"Here," said Sakura, handing it to the girl.
"Thank you," she answered, taking it. She set it down and opened it with one hand. She motioned for Sakura to move closer. "Could you elevate his arm while I get the bandages?" she asked politely.
"Of course." Sakura knelt down next to Eriol. She clasped his cold hand in hers and raised it up. You'll be okay, Eriol, she thought. This girl looks like she knows what she's doing.
She was rapidly sorting through the miscellaneous medical items inside the first aid kit. She set aside two things: a roll of bandages and a bottle of disinfectant. She went back into her messenger bag and took out a bottle of water, a satin yellow ribbon, and a white handkerchief. Sakura caught a flash of the romaji letters T, O, and M embroidered in the corner with gold thread before the girl hopped over and sat down next to Sakura. She placed all items on the ground before her and picked up the ribbon. She gathered her silky purple hair in one hand and tied it into a high ponytail with the ribbon. Then she got to work.
With Sakura watching, the girl poured water over Eriol's cut, little by little, until it was clean. She wiped away the excess blood with her handkerchief, dyeing it a dark crimson. Next she picked up the bottle of disinfectant and sprayed short bursts of medicine over the injured area. She moved her face closer to his arm to inspect it, and she moved away with a grim smile of satisfaction on her face.
She turned to Sakura. "You can let go of his hand now. I need to apply the bandages."
"Right. Sorry." Sakura released his hand reluctantly, as if letting go would make him vanish before her eyes.
The girl saw Sakura's hesitation. She smiled. "Is he your boyfriend?" she asked. She pressed a piece of the bandage against the cut where blood was welling up.
Why do people always think that? "No. He's my—"
Uncle? suggested her inner voice. Grandfather? Father? Random stranger? Worst enemy? Best friend? Regular friend? Close friend? Friend with benef—
"Brother," finished Sakura, abruptly shutting up her inner voice's barrage of ridiculous ideas.
The girl smiled a knowing smile. "Older?"
"Umm—yeah," she answered, remembering that Eriol was nineteen.
"How old are you, if I may ask, Miss...?"
"Sakura," replied Sakura, without thinking. She bit her lip and mentally smacked herself for being so stupid. "Hiiragizawa!" she blurted quickly. "My name is Hiiragizawa Sakura. And I'm eighteen." She figured telling the girl her age wouldn't cause any harm.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'd shake your hand, but I'm rather busy right now," said the girl. "I'm Daidouji Tomoyo."
"Nice to meet you, Daidouji."
Sakura saw Tomoyo's expression shift to one of hurt. "Oh, don't take it the wrong way," said Sakura quickly, catching her mistake. "I don't use honorifics anymore. I can't use them, not for anyone, even if we're friends. I didn't mean anything by that. I'm sorry."
Tomoyo continued to wrap the bandage around and around Eriol's arm, not saying anything. A minute later, she tore the bandage and tied it securely. She smiled modestly at Sakura. "I'm all done now. Is this okay?"
Sakura stared at Eriol's arm. It looked just right. "Yes. That's perfect," whispered Sakura. She was unable to stop the tears from forming in her eyes, however much she wanted to. "Thank you," she said to Tomoyo, her voice cracking with emotion. "Thank you so much. You saved him."
"It was no problem at all," she responded, beaming. "I'm just happy to help." Then she glanced at the sky and frowned. "Oh, goodness, excuse me for a moment."
She crossed the street and picked up all of her things, shoveling them back into her bag. Then she went back to where Sakura was sitting, who had Eriol's hand in hers once more. Tomoyo looked at her apologetically. "I'm afraid I've lost track of time. I must go back home before my family starts a search party. They've already done it twice before," she said, shaking her head. "I can afford to stay for a few more minutes, though. Do you need me to help get your brother home?"
"No!" said Sakura loudly, startling Tomoyo. She cleared her throat. "What I mean is, it's quite all right. My car is parked down the street. I can drive him home. Thanks for the offer, though."
"Okay, then. I pray we meet again, Hiiragizawa-san."
Sakura shook her head. "Sakura. It's just Sakura," she corrected.
"May I call you Sakura-san?"
"Sakura-chan. Or simply Sakura will do."
"Well then, Sakura-chan, I hope our paths will cross again someday. Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Tomoyo turned to leave, Sakura watching her. The girl stopped at a ONE WAY sign. "And you may call me Tomoyo-chan. For you, Tomoyo will do," she said before she vanished around the corner.
"Tomoyo... chan," said Sakura out loud, testing out the name with the honorific attached. It fitted her. But what use was the name to Sakura? She probably wasn't going to meet this girl ever again.
She turned her attention to Eriol. Still unconscious, but getting warmer. She had better find him a place to stay, and quick. She wrapped her arms around his waist, careful to not touch his now bandaged arm, and pulled him up. She slung his good arm over her shoulder and kept one of her arms around his middle for support.
"You're heavier than you look," she muttered as she started to drag him down the street, staying in the shadows of the buildings. Ten minutes crawled by, and to say that Sakura was tired would be a huge understatement. When she was ready to collapse, she selected a semi-clean alley and went in. The only thing in there was a large cardboard box, big enough for one person to fit inside. She set Eriol down against the brick wall.
She went through her backpack and pulled out everything cloth-like. She assembled it all into a neat pile inside the box and rolled Eriol inside. She dropped down next to him and pulled his head into her lap.
"Rest well, Eriol," she said softly, gently running her fingers through his hair like the way her mother used to do to Touya. "Tomorrow, we're going to Tomoeda."
A/N: Warning: Lengthy, babbling Author's Note below. Proceed with caution. May cause drowsiness, nausea, mild headache, boredom, and the urge to throw something at the author to shut her up.
-happy sigh- Finally, it's finished! My goodness, my chapters just keep getting longer and longer. I'm so sorry for taking an extra week, I really am. I typed as fast as I could to finish this for you guys! I made it longer than the last chapter because I felt so guilty. I even blew off my studying because I didn't want to stop typing. Unfortunately, I failed the quiz I was supposed to be studying for. Failed as in literally failing. I got a fifty-four (an F), which brought my average waaaay down. So if I fail school, let it be on your conscience, 'kay?
Oh, crap, I have ANOTHER one of those geography map quizzes tomorrow. I passed the first one with flying colors—a 105—but crashed on the second one. And now, it's time for the third. Wish me luck, guys. I'm going to need it. Bleh, I HATE World History.
In case you had the same thought as I did, for Yukio, he is NOT Yukito with the name misspelled a billion times. Nor is he Yukito's long-lost brother or whatever. Yukio is just a character I made up because I enjoy killing people off. He deserved it, that perverted bastard. The ironic thing is, Yukio's name means "one who gets what he wants." That was completely unintentional, I swear. Oh, well. He wanted Sakura. I didn't give him Sakura. I gave him death. So HA! Oh, and if you thought the excerpt from Umi-hime was boring, I'm sorry. I had to write something. Did you notice anything strange about the passage, though? The names, perhaps? By the way, Sakura wasn't acting melodramatic near the end by saying that Tomoyo saved Eriol. If she hadn't come along, he probably would have bled to death. Thank Tomoyo-chan.
Remember, no more promises. Just don't expect me to take more than three weeks, because even I'm not that slow. Oh, and do leave a review, okay? They do make me so happy whenever I get one. I have to hold myself down to keep from jumping for joy. You don't even have to leave lengthy, detailed reviews, either. Just point out any mistakes I may have made (I KNOW I messed up a LOT of things in this chapter), tell me what you liked or didn't like, tell me I rock/suck, ask questions that you want me to clear up, or make predictions. Say whatever! I'm not going to limit what you can or can't say, whether you write a novel or leave one-word reviews. Three cheers for FREEDOM OF SPEECH!
Until next time (which, hopefully, isn't long),
- Mimi