A/N: "Until next time (which, hopefully, isn't long), - Mimi."
Boy, was I ever off. This was exactly the sort of absence I was trying so hard to avoid. That didn't work out so well, did it? I know this chapter is crap, and even shorter than my last chapter, but I felt so bad about not updating for over two months that I typed this up as fast as I could. I'd appreciate it if you point out any mistakes because I know there are tons in here. Anyway, go ahead and read it. Hope you like it because, well, I finally finished it at three thirty in the morning. Introduced some new characters in here.
God, my eyes are killing me.
Edit: Ew. Now that I'm not half-dead, I read through this chapter again. It sucks. Sucks like a hundred blood-thirsty leeches. Maybe I should have taken another day to add more details and such. Everything seems so choppy and short. I'll probably go back to this and revise it, but for now just try to read it as-is. I'm sorry, please don't kill me.
Disclaimer: Not my anime/manga. So don't sue me.
F o r g e t – M e – N o t
B y : E n t r a n c i a
Chapter Six: Première
When Sakura woke up, she was surprised to find herself half inside a box. What shocked her more was finding Eriol dozing in her lap, lightly snoring. Still slightly groggy and therefore not thinking straight, she had the wild thought that they had done something bad the night prior.
Me and... Eriol? Mmmm... lovely... she thought drowsily, about to nod off again. She pulled Eriol—a source of heat—closer to her body, pressing his head into her chest. Then she realized what she was thinking. And doing. Her eyes popped open.
Ergh, wait—gah, I mean NO! What in the world am I thinking? She blushed heavily, the naughty thought startling her awake. As she went to gently push Eriol away from her, he stirred in her lap. Eriol's eyelids fluttered open, revealing those omniscient orbs of sapphire. He blinked several times before he focused his eyes on Sakura.
"Good morning," he said, looking up at her pink face curiously.
"...Morning. How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine. Just a little tired."
"Good."
He grinned sleepily at her, and then looked perplexed as he noticed his rather questionable position. "Sakura?"
"Yes?"
"Why am I in your lap?"
Sakura blush deepened at the straightforward inquiry, but she helped him out of the box he was in.
Eriol peered around, absorbing his surroundings. "What did we do last night?" he asked, quite serious.
She turned even redder—if that were possible—at the suggestive question, remembering that she too had pondered the same thing. "Eriol!"
He gave her a little smile. It seemed very familiar. It was unlike his usual smiles, but Sakura couldn't remember where she had seen it before. "I swear I'm not being perverted. I just can't remember anything from yesterday."
She stared. "You—you can't remember anything?"
He shook his head. "Not a thing. It's all a haze. What happened? And why is my arm bandaged?" he questioned, catching sight of his arm. He poked it. He winced.
Sakura grabbed his finger to keep him from inflicting further damage to himself. "Trust me when I say it's a long story," she replied. She remembered Yukio's hands caressing her face, his lips on hers. She shuddered. She let go of Eriol's finger.
He stood up with ease, declining Sakura's extended hand. He bent down and picked up an old, torn tank top that had been draped over his leg. He offered it to Sakura. "Yours, I believe?"
"Thanks." She took it, neatly folding it, and placed it into her backpack. "Could you also get that for me?" she asked, nodding her head in the direction of her white skirt.
He reached out and grabbed it, handing it to Sakura. "Who did it?" he asked, reaching for a scrap of white fabric that was once a nightgown.
"Did what?"
"You know. My arm."
"Oh." Sakura scrunched up her face, searching her brain for the name. "Ryuuto," she supplied, after much thinking. It was evident that her mind wanted to push aside the whole evening ordeal.
Eriol seemed to be thinking, also. Not quite as hard, but Sakura could see he was trying.
Moments passed, neither speaking. The only noises were that of the outside world and the soft rustles of Sakura folding her clothes.
Eriol started to open his mouth to speak but then closed it, shaking his head. "I don't think I want to remember," he said. He passed the piece of cloth to her, who stuffed it into the backpack.
Sakura put away the last of her clothes and zipped her backpack closed. She gave it a pat before slipping her arms through the straps. "All done," she said cheerily. She turned her attention on Eriol, eyeing the bandages around his hurt arm. "Does it hurt?" she wanted to know.
He gave a shrug. "Only if I touch it. Otherwise it's fine. I feel well enough to walk, if that's what you're hinting at."
"You know me too well. It scares me sometimes." Sakura got up and stretched. "Let's get something to eat. I'm starving."
Once they left the security of their alley, their surroundings were unfamiliar. It had been dark when Sakura chose their temporary residence, so she also recognized nothing.
"Let's just... start walking, I guess," she said, shrugging. "I'm sure we'll find something." Without a destination in mind, they walked.
A sharp bark behind them caused the pair to pause in their tracks and turn around. A livid Suppi sprinted towards them, back from spending the night at a place known only to the canine. He slowed once he reached Eriol.
"Where have you been, Suppi-chan?" asked Sakura, bending down to his level. Suppi growled at her as if to say, "None of your business."
She retracted a couple of steps, smiling. She didn't mind his attitude. "Well. Sorry for caring."
To Eriol, she said, "Let's keep going."
He nodded, and the three of them continued on.
"You know, I had an unusual dream last night," said Eriol suddenly, several minutes later.
Sakura stopped immediately. Very rarely would Eriol talk about himself. This was a moment she had to take advantage of. "Really? What was it about?" she asked, eager to hear.
He appeared to be thinking hard. "It's vague, but I remember something about a girl. No, an angel," he corrected himself. "She was leaning over me. Whispering to me."
"What did she look like?"
"She looked like your typical angel, I suppose. A white dress. Large white wings. Long hair. Bright eyes. She just didn't have a halo." He was starting to look like he regretted opening his mouth.
"Really?" pressed Sakura, her eyes wide. She had to get him to keep talking. "I haven't heard of an angel without a halo. How can you be so sure she is one?"
Eriol sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "Because—because she told me," he answered, somewhat hesitantly.
"What did she say?"
"I... can't remember." Eriol had an odd, faraway look on his face as he said that. Did he not remember... or did he not want to tell her?
Sakura was quiet for a second. "Was she pretty?" she said absentmindedly, momentarily distracted by Suppi rolling around on a patch of dead grass. When Eriol didn't respond, she looked up. She was surprised to see that he was staring at the ground, almost shyly, his normally pale cheeks tinted pink.
"Eriol?" she said slowly. He didn't answer. She tugged on his shirt to get his attention.
Gradually, he forced himself to look at her. "No. She wasn't pretty," he said at last, that mysterious expression still on his face. Sakura blinked, and in that split second, his face changed. It was back to the way it always was. As if they never had the conversation.
"What—"
"We should get going," Eriol cut in, avoiding her gaze. He began to walk away without waiting for Sakura's reply. Suppi, noticing that his master was on the move, got up quickly and followed dutifully.
Sakura did not move. She stared at the area where her friend had previously stood. Why do you have to be so secretive? she couldn't help but think. What are you hiding?
She shook her head, deciding to be patient, and began to jog after Eriol. He'll tell me in time. I have to wait. But, dammit, how much longer?
They had pancakes for breakfast. Sakura had insisted on using some of her birthday money to get Eriol a decent meal for once. He had protested, telling her that the money shouldn't be wasted on him, but she refused to give up. She got her way in the end.
Sakura exited the women's restroom of the restaurant, heading back to the booth Eriol was seated at. He offered her backpack back to her, and she took it, slipping her toothbrush inside one of the pouches. She handed him the tube of toothpaste and his toothbrush. He grabbed them and left for the men's restroom.
She paid for the food while she waited for Eriol to come out. When he did, looking refreshed and ready to go, Sakura gestured towards the door. He nodded. Eriol walked over to it and held it open for her in his gentlemanly way. She smiled at him and went past him. He followed.
Suppi was chewing on something when they reached him. That something oozed blood. Sakura shuddered to think of what poor creature that used to be. Suppi appeared to be enjoying her discomfort. He nosed the remains of the animal to her feet and looked up at her. If he were a human he'd be smirking.
"Why do you hate me?" Sakura moaned before she shut her eyes in disgust and started in a different direction. She heard Eriol chuckle at her.
"Want to split up today, Eriol?" she suggested as they walked. "I feel like being alone for a couple of hours."
Eriol would have rolled his eyes if he weren't so... Eriol. "You always want to be alone."
"That's not true!"
"It's me, isn't it?"
"Of course not. I like you, Eriol. You're way more than a bodyguard to me."
When he raised his eyebrows at her, she blushed. "You know what I mean. We're friends. Really close frie—" She abruptly shut her mouth as she realized the neighborhood they had just entered wasn't quiet.
"You will not. I absolutely forbid it," a man up ahead was saying. He and a girl that faintly resembled him stood on a porch outside one of the houses. The man was one of those big, burly types who wouldn't hesitate to snap at anyone who looked his way funny. The girl, who seemed to be on the verge of tears, held something in her hands. She shifted slightly, and Sakura saw what it was: a hollow glass heart. A ray of sunlight broke through the thick clouds and hit the dull gold ring on her finger, making it glint.
"Dad, you can't do that! I love him!" cried the girl.
Sakura and Eriol exchanged curious glances. This was going to dramatic, they could tell. Sakura could feel the guilt creeping up, telling her that they shouldn't be listening to what was clearly a private conversation. But something made her stay.
The girl's father crossed his arms. "You're a teenager. You don't know what you want. I do, and I know you're not marrying him."
"He already proposed to me! You can't—"
"I'm canceling the engagement."
Alarm flitted across his daughter's face. "You don't have the authority," she began.
"Yes, I do. I'm your father. I raised you."
"Dad—!"
"You're not marrying him, and that's final!" he roared, losing his patience. "Your arranged marriage to that other boy had been decided three days after you were born. I'm not calling it off so you can go frolic with some bastard you met in school!"
The girl's grip on the glass heart visibly tightened. If she tightened it any further she would probably crack it. "He is not a bastard! He's a perfect gentleman and you know it!" she argued, beginning to sound helpless.
Her father seemed to notice that she was giving up. "So?" he pressed on. "Who cares if he has manners? The point is, he's dirt poor! He has no money and he won't be able to support you at all. The other boy—"
"Oh, so I should marry him because he's loaded?"
"Exactly. The engagement is final."
"Do you even know his name?" This seemed to be the girl's last feeble attempt at an argument with her father.
"His name eludes me at the moment, but I do know it."
"See, Dad, you barely know his name! You don't know anything about him besides the fact that he's rich."
"I know enough. I know that in six months, once you marry him, you won't ever have to work again! Think about it. The boy—"
"He is not a boy! He's four years older than I am. He is a man, and he's far too old for me!"
"He is not. Your mother is six years younger than I am."
Then the girl lost it, her self-control and her will to fight back. "That's why she's cheating on you with two other men!" she screamed at him.
He struck her.
The force of the girl's father's blow was strong enough to knock her back a few steps. Her hand shot out and grabbed onto a windowsill to keep herself from falling. She regained her balance, but the heart slipped from her grasp and exploded into a million glass shards on the ground. After that moment, the neighborhood was still. Sakura hardly dared to breathe lest she disturb the stillness.
"Hey!" the man yelled suddenly. "This isn't a show. Get out of here!"
It wasn't until Sakura felt Eriol take her wrist in his hand did she realize that the man's words were directed at the two of them. He was glaring at them, Eriol particularly. This guy had something against the male species, it seemed.
His daughter slowly raised her head from her position against the wall of her house. She stared right into Sakura's eyes. Rivulets of tears were streaming down her face, her eyes swollen from crying. A glaring red mark stood out on her left cheek where her father's hand struck her. Strands of her chestnut hair were beginning to come out of her pretty braids and were falling into her eyes. She didn't brush them away. She continued to stare at Sakura intensely, as if trying desperately to communicate with her. Please help me, her eyes were saying.
Sakura couldn't move. She felt herself being pulled into the girl's intense look. In her eyes Sakura saw a sadness so deep, she could feel something tugging at her heart, something she hadn't experienced for a long time. Sympathy.
"What the hell are you, deaf? I said get out of here!" hollered the man again, his large hands balling into fists. They twitched threateningly.
Eriol squeezed Sakura's wrist, bringing her out of her trance. She tore her eyes away from the pitiful girl and her abusive father. She allowed Eriol to lead her away, determinedly keeping her face forward. But behind them, the girl's father wasn't done talking.
"And you," Sakura heard him snarl, "you're going straight to your room. Don't think about coming out until you've told that bastard the engagement is cancelled."
"Dad!" wailed his daughter miserably.
"I don't want to hear it. Go!"
The girl let out a choked sob. The last thing Sakura heard before turning the corner was the sound of a door slamming.
Sakura kept up with Eriol's brisk walking. They had lapsed into another one of their customary silences, though this one had an uncomfortable feel to it. Suppi, who had gotten used to his master and occasional mistress not talking, contentedly trotted half a block ahead of them.
"Where would you like to meet?" asked Eriol softly, deciding to break the silence.
Sakura glanced at him for a moment, then turned away. "Doesn't matter. You pick," she murmured.
"All right." Eriol said nothing after that, and Sakura, assuming that he was finished talking, began to think of places to meet. But Eriol spoke up a while later. The pause only meant he was thinking.
"Our alley, then," he chose. "Six o' clock, we'll meet there to have something to eat. Then we'll take a brief rest before leaving for the next town. Sound okay?"
"Yeah," she agreed quietly. "I'll see you later, then."
After they had parted, it came to her suddenly.
Eriol's and Tomoyo's smiles were identical.
When Sakura was out of sight, Eriol sat down on the curb with a sigh, pulling his knees closer to his chest. He dropped his head into his arms tiredly.
"It's your turn, Hiiragizawa. The enchantment of the kindred spirits." The dream-girl's parting words repeated themselves over and over again in his head, like a never ending mantra. "Your turn... the enchantment... kindred spirits... enchantment... kindred... spirit..."
Suppi barked suddenly, making Eriol jump, but it also made the girl's whispery voice go away. He silently thanked Suppi before falling back onto the cracked sidewalk.
I hate being weak, he groaned inwardly.
Then, opening his eyes, he prayed to the sky, Why, Clow?
"Wow..." breathed Sakura, staring in awe at the park before her. It was massive. It made the park she saw in Tokyo so long ago seem tiny in comparison. The most significant difference, besides the size, between the two parks was that the majority of the trees in this park were cherry blossom trees. Despite the still-frosty weather, they were beginning to blossom. It was a beautiful sight. Not breathtaking exactly, but pretty nonetheless.
A strong gust of wind almost made her reconsider her plan of staying in the park for the following two hours. But she didn't know where else to go to kill time, so she went through the arched, intricately carved entrance.
Several people were scattered throughout the park. It seemed that they, too, were drawn to the park's beauty. They probably inwardly suffered from the chilly winds but were too mesmerized by the cherry blossom trees to care. Sakura wandered aimlessly through the park, carefully taking in all the scenery, not knowing precisely what she was searching for. She followed a seemingly endless cement path until she caught sight of some flat, round, marble tiles set in the patchy yellow-green grass, leading off to an area unknown.
Embracing the need to express her hidden childish urges, she strayed off the cement pathway and hopped onto a marble step. It was very smooth, Sakura found out the hard way, polished to the point where it shone. No later than the moment after she shifted her weight to the foot on the marble step, she lost her footing and slipped to the hard ground with a yelp. That attracted the attention of others nearby. As they watched her with mild curiosity, Sakura began to giggle. It surprised her, for she only giggled when she was around Eriol. Rather than ceasing her giggles, they intensified into incessant laughter. Thinking she was a madwoman of some sort, onlookers went back to their own businesses and pretended that Sakura wasn't there.
She remained randomly laughing on the ground, seeming like someone who should be locked up in an asylum. Her laughter ended sharply when she realized that the coldness of the frozen earth was seeping through her pants, making her butt go numb. She picked herself off of the grass—with people still openly staring—and dusted herself off self-consciously, noticing how strange she had just acted. A sudden thought hit her hard as she moved to grab her backpack from a short distance away. She froze. What if those people were staring because they were beginning to recognize her? Her hand immediately went to her head and was immensely relieved to find that her cap was still snug over her hair, the brim shading her eyes. But if that weren't the case, why were those people still watching her?
I need to think, she realized wearily. She scarcely had time to reflect to herself due to the events of the day before. Thinking would do her some good. It would prevent her from hallucinating any further.
Sakura strode back onto a cement path—wisely choosing not to use the marble stepping stones—to find a peaceful spot to think. She glanced over her shoulder to see if those people were still watching her, but their attention had already wandered elsewhere. So they hadn't recognized her after all. Good. Eriol had warned her about the risks of not having him around to be her guard. She hated to be reprimanded by him about her carelessness.
She considered seating herself on one of the benches, but they were all out in the open, practically an invitation for people to come scrutinize her and try to recollect where they had seen her face before. Being on the run certainly increased her paranoia, as Eriol had so bluntly pointed out, though she had corrected him with a huff that it was simply vigilance. She went on.
She passed several more benches, each one far too exposed, and so she ignored them. It only took a little while longer for Sakura to find the right place. It was a quaint little swing set, with only two seats. It was located in an area empty of people, and better yet, on each side of the swings, were two cheery blossom trees, providing security and protection. It was the image of tranquility. If only the sky were less grey. Rain was on its way.
When Sakura neared the area, she saw that some forget-me-not flowers, a plant requiring shade, had sprouted around the trees that shared her name. Smiling lightly, she went over and plucked one of the miniscule flowers from the ground. She stood up and reached out towards a cherry blossom. With both flowers in her hand, she compared them, side by side. One tiny, one larger. Blue and pink. Both pretty and delicate. When placed together, the flowers spelled out a message. Don't forget Sakura, they said.
She smiled wryly and let the flowers drop to her feet. "I don't want to be forgotten," she said softly. "But if that's what's needed to survive, then fine. Let it be." She moved to the swing set. She sat down on one of the seats and began swinging; her feet dragged lazily across the dirt. Without meaning to, she started to muse over the night before.
It was murder. She hadn't meant to kill Yukio. She didn't remember what she intended to do with his knife. Scare him, perhaps. Certainly not kill him. Sakura saw in her head the image of herself gripping the tainted pocketknife in her hand, blood as red as poinsettias dripping from her fingers. She saw Yukio fall forward, agonizingly slowly, and then his entire frame shook as he was hit with that terrible coughing fit. When it ceased, the silence in her mind was entirely too loud. She grasped the sides of her head and groaned.
"Go away," she shouted, shutting her eyes, willing the picture to dissipate. Just when it did, something significant occurred to her, something she had neglected. She yelped and shot up, her eyes widening as she remembered.
The body! Oh, shit... She clapped her hands to her face and sat back down. Yukio's body was still out there, just waiting for a carefree child to stumble upon it accidentally. How could she have been so daft as to forget? If the authorities found out that it was her and Eriol's fault—
No. They wouldn't suspect that. They couldn't. She was supposed to be gone, lost in another section of Japan. And Eriol was a foreigner; nobody knew who he was. They would be safe. But—that poor child who would be traumatized for the rest of his or her life...
Sakura shook her head immediately, shaking the guilt out of it. As she did this, her eyes caught sight of something resting on the other swing seat. She straightened up and leaned over to take a closer inspection.
It was small, furry, and light pink in color, Sakura could see. She gave it a tentative poke to make sure it wasn't alive, and when it didn't twitch or explode, she picked it up.
It wasn't an animal at all, but a wristband, and a very well made one at that. Sakura flipped it over and noticed that the creator had embroidered the image of a blue flower on it. Moving the wristband nearer to her face, she realized that the flower was a forget-me-not. She glanced at the flowers at the foot of the trees towering overhead. The girl who made this must have used one of the forget-me-nots as a guide.
Sakura weighed the wristband in one hand. She wanted to keep it—it was so pretty—but that overwhelming guilt swept over her the instant she even considered it. Damn that Hiiragizawa. He was having too much of an influence on her.
A noise in front of her made her look up. Her eyes met another pair of eyes—unfriendly, emotionless ones. Naturally, Sakura reacted instantly. She let out a squeak of surprise and fell off the swing in a most ungraceful manner. The person didn't offer to help her up.
"Nice," was all he said, flatly.
If Sakura wasn't so preoccupied with picking herself off the ground, she would have shot a glare at the speaker, whoever he was.
"Who are you to sneak up on me like that?" she demanded once she was on her feet, trying to cover up her clumsy fall. She pulled her cap back over her hair, then raised her head.
For some reason, she was caught off guard. Instead of finding the punky teenager she'd been expecting, she saw a man not much older than her. Her eyes scanned him discreetly, from his ruffled, chocolate-brown hair to the tip of his shoes. Whoever this guy was, one thing was blatant. He was from a much higher-class family than Sakura.
The man appeared to have just left work. He was certainly dressed the part, with hard work shoes, black trousers, a black jacket, a white dress shirt underneath, and a grey tie. Although his attire was professional, the way he wore it was not. The jacket was unbuttoned, the shirt untucked, and the tie loosened. The fact that he had a hand inside his trouser pocket made him look like he really would rather not talk to someone like her.
"That's not yours," he said, instead of answering her question.
Sakura was annoyed. "What are you talking about?" she retorted.
"The wristband." He didn't say it out loud, but she heard the idiot that followed after.
She discovered that she was still holding onto it. Her inner voice told her to hand it over, but she herself wasn't going to let him get away so smoothly. "Well, it sure as hell isn't yours," she found herself saying. "Unless you like pink wristbands and forget-me-not flowers." Then she bit her tongue, hearing just how rude that was. She didn't know how dangerous this man could be. He could be another Yukio.
It was the man's turn to be irritated. "I happen to have a sister. It's hers. She made it," he responded, his words curt.
"How do I know you're not lying?" When the words left her mouth, Sakura instantly was reminded of that day six months ago when she first met Eriol, and how she refused to trust him until she had interrogated everything she could out of him. Was she wrong to distrust this man, too?
But she had reasons this time. For one thing, he looked annoyed with her, and Eriol had not, even after all her false accusations. Secondly, she just didn't like him. He gave off such an air of superiority and wealth that made her feel so grubby in her plain jacket and jeans, compared to him and his pricey suit.
Again, rather than providing a proper response to her question, he withdrew his hand from his pocket and pushed back the sleeve. He glanced impatiently at the—silver? white gold? platinum?—watch around his wrist then shoved his hand back into the pocket. "I have an important conference I need to be at in five minutes," he said coldly, looking Sakura straight in the eyes. She flinched and looked away, unable to hold his gaze. She hated herself for showing weakness.
He held out his hand. "Just give me the wristband. You're wasting my time."
Sakura grasped the wristband in her hand, stuck between handing it over to the mysterious man or running off with it. She listened to what her inner voice had to say about the matter, and then obeyed it. She dropped the wristband onto the man's palm, deciding that he was being sincere. Why else would a man his age want a pink wristband with the image of a flower stitched into it?
He snatched it abruptly, and without another word, he spun around and left. Sakura continued to watch him as he strode away. He tucked the wristband away and pulled out a cell phone, swiftly dialing a number. By the time he had the phone against his ear, he was too far away for her to eavesdrop.
She plopped back down on the swing seat, blinking confusedly. Who was that guy? Whoever he was, she was just relieved he was merely one of those robotic businessmen with a tight schedule and not a hot-tempered criminal.
She began swinging back and forth slowly, adding enough force so that she could feel the air fluttering against her face but not so much that her feet would leave the ground. She was quick to notice that it wasn't sufficient. Too peaceful. She wanted to soar as high up as possible, leave her troubles behind. She pushed her feet against the dirt to force herself back, and then kicked her legs forward as the swing started to come back down. The wind stung her eyes as her body swung up. She closed them and allowed herself to push the events that had been troubling her out of her mind.
Something stung her cheek, and it wasn't the wind. Sakura brought her hand to her face. Her fingers encountered wet skin.
Is it—raining? As she completed the thought, a drop of water fell from the sky and splashed onto her nose. Another landed on the sleeve of her jacket. Then, quick as lightning, water began to pour from the heavens.
A groan erupted from her throat. The things in her backpack were going to be soaked! She eased herself off the still-moving swing seat and dashed to the nearest tree, using it as shelter from the rain. The last thing she needed was pneumonia.
The tree's young blossoms weren't quite enough to shield her from the barrage of rain. She counted to five in her head before leaving the tree to find a drier place, pulling her hat over her eyes as the rain hit her hard.
It wasn't until ten minutes later did she finally decide to duck into a movie theater, shivering from the cold. Some motherly-looking people inside gave her sympathetic looks, but other than that she was generally ignored. All she had to do was wait without being kicked out for loitering. When the girl selling popcorn started shooting Sakura hostile looks, she slipped into the restroom and locked herself inside one of the stalls.
It was torture, hanging around doing absolutely nothing while wearing wet clothes. But after two hours crept by, she left the theater to find Eriol and Suppi.
She ran as fast as her two feet could manage, trying to make her way to her alley without slipping on the slick streets. When she got there—tripping only once—instead of finding Eriol, she found a sopping wet cardboard box, the unrelenting rain continuing to beat it down.
If he's not here, then where? She knew it was the correct time. She had checked the clock inside the movie theater. She ran out as soon as the hands on the clock aligned at the twelve and six. Where could they be?
Sakura permitted him several more minutes, and when he didn't show up, she went out to hunt for him. Maybe he was looking for her, too. Drenched and miserable, she searched through each block, hoping for a glimpse of Eriol, or even Suppi. Nothing. No one. She hesitated for a fraction of a second when she saw a figure in a dark blue jacket huddled up on the ground some meters away. She took a tiny step towards him, but then shook her head. She wanted to help him, but Eriol came first. She reluctantly moved on.
Eriol has a blue blazer.
She stumbled back into that street as soon as the thought hit her. She squinted at the person, trying to distinguish details. Trying to prove that it wasn't her friend.
She made out a blue jacket, jeans, dark hair, and glasses. It had to be him.
Taking a wavering breath, she called out his name. "Eriol," she said, the word coming out tiny and choked. The severity of the situation caught up with her. Blinking back tears of fear, she ran to him. "Eriol!" she tried to scream; the heavy rain muffled her voice. She dropped down to his side, not caring in the least that her knees had landed in a puddle of murky water, and grabbed hold of him, attempting to shake him awake.
No use. He was out cold.
"Eriol, please, wake up," she pleaded desperately. She gave him a final shake. He didn't stir, only stayed limp in her arms. And Suppi, who had never once left his master's side, was nowhere in sight.
This couldn't be happening. Eriol, in his condition, couldn't afford to get sick. Past stories of people dying from pneumonia rushed through Sakura's mind. That didn't help.
Not one bit.
A car horn honked behind her, making her jump. "Hey, need some help?" someone shouted.
Sakura whipped around, searching for source of the voice. She didn't have to look far. Barely five feet before her was a silver car. A boy with spiky black hair sat in the driver's seat, the one who had spoken. The window was rolled down. There was the silhouette of another person in the passenger's seat.
Sakura raced to the car. "Please help me!" she begged. For once, the rules she had created for living on the streets was completely forgotten. "My—my brother, he needs—" She stopped talking upon seeing the identity of the second person. She cried out in surprise.
"It's you!"
A/N: Yes, a cliffhanger. I feel even worse now for leaving a cliffhanger, without knowing how long it'll take for me to update again. Please, please, please pray that it won't be two months.
So. Lots has happened since my last update. I really hope I didn't lose all my readers. Are you guys all busy with your studies, too? That could be why everyone's dead around here. Anyway, I'm a year older now! Wish me a happy birthday? Also, I just took on my fourth job as a beta reader, and this time, the writer is a male. His chapters are long, so it takes me several days to edit them. He's an excellent writer, though, so that's good. Thank him for inspiring me to complete this chapter. But with that, studying for my exams, and the mad rush to pull up my math grade before the end of the term going on, writing a new chapter may take a while. Drop a review on your way out of here? My life has been so tiring lately, and a little review would perk me up. Thanks in advance for all of you who'll review.
Yes, you can tell me off for not updating.
Until next time,
- Mimi
P.S. Choco, are you even alive, woman? You can't possibly be /that/ busy, can you? Give your readers a sign!