A/N: Here are the horrible results of four months' worth of typing, editing, cursing, and slaving over my dad's laptop that I pretty much claimed as my own. I've made several changes during my, er, hiatus, you could say. Nothing major, just little things. Mostly, I went back and added/removed some words. One of the genres of the fic (drama) has been changed to friendship. I changed the summary, too. As in the one you see when you click on the story. I didn't really like the old one. I don't like this new one, either, but I can never settle with anything.

That's really it. This chapter was the hardest for me to write so far. Why? Because I fell into a plothole. I'm going to tell you now, it's mostly an informative chapter. But there are spots where you can tell that I had been drinking a little too much soda. Just... read it. Rejoice. I updated.

Disclaimer: How many times must I say this line? Cardcaptor Sakura is not mine.

F o r g e t – M e – N o t

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

Chapter Seven: Grandeur

"It's you!"

Sakura looked past the driver and at the man in the passenger's seat. He stared back with disinterest. There was no mistaking that chocolate-brown hair, that impassive expression that told her he didn't give a damn about her problems, the formal suit wore in such an informal way. It was the same man she met in the park mere hours ago.

The young man with darker hair glanced between the two, confusion etched in his face. "Do you know each other?" he asked, scratching his head.

The man from the park broke eye contact and faced forward. "No," he said. "We don't."

She spared him a heated glare before remembering why she was standing outside in the middle of a storm, numb and shivering from the rain. Ignoring the vulgar man, she turned to the younger one—a boy, really. Her mind worked rapidly, and within a couple seconds she had a little white lie playing in her head. "Please," she said, "my brother just had surgery, and when we tried to walk back home, he suddenly collapsed. Could you please, please help him?" Although this statement was false, the tears that had started to stream down her face in addition to the rain were genuine.

The boy regarded her carefully for several seconds, then flashed her a reassuring grin. "It's no problem," he answered. He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "Go ahead, get your brother in. Don't worry about the water. The ride won't take long, just twenty minutes or so."

Sakura thanked him graciously and went back to Eriol. He was curled up on the cold ground, his entire body exposed to the steady rain. She drew her arms around him and pulled the boy into a sort of sitting position. If she had thought it was strenuous carrying him before, this time he was positively a dead weight with the water weighing him down.

The boy with spiky hair left the sanctuary of his dry car and moved to the two on the ground. "Let me help," he offered, crouching down. He grabbed Eriol's arm and slung it around his own neck. Sakura followed suit and brought Eriol's other arm around her neck.

"Ready?" asked the boy. She nodded, and together they stood, supporting the unconscious Eriol up.

The boy grunted slightly. "Your brother is kind of heavy. Getting him to the car might be a little tough. We might even drop him once or twice." At the look of horror that crossed Sakura's face, he hurriedly added, "Just joking, of course. I'll be careful, I promise. Oh wait, hold on." He adjusted his hold on Eriol, and then he yelled out to the car, "Hey, Syaoran, lend us a hand over here?"

The man he had called Syaoran looked up, eying Sakura and Eriol, Sakura especially.

"No." That was it. Short, brusque.

The boy turned back to Sakura, rolling his eyes. "Businessmen these days. They're so uptight. He's lucky he's my best friend or else he'd have to walk home. Hey," he said suddenly, "you sure you two haven't met before? He doesn't seem to—ah—you know. Like you. Then again, he doesn't like many people."

"Can we get my brother to the car, please? He's not well."

"Oh, right." He appeared to be sheepish. "Sorry. Everyone always says that I talk too much for my own good. Come on, let's get the poor guy inside."

They migrated to the car, little by little. Sakura tried her best to not drag Eriol too much.

"Open it," said the boy, gesturing at the car door with his elbow.

Sakura looked at the handle of the car blankly, her hand pausing in midair. She hadn't been in close proximity to a car for ages; she had nearly forgotten how it functioned. It was much shinier than she remembered. She stared, transfixed.

"What's wrong? Is the door stuck?" asked the boy after a moment of her stillness.

Sakura snapped out of her trance. "It's nothing. I was just—thinking."

"Well, would you mind thinking inside? In case you haven't noticed, it's wet. Really wet," he said. "It's ruining my hair."

Sakura reached out and pulled on the door handle with a muttered, "Men."

He heard her. He grinned. "Nope. Still a boy, still immature. Got lots of growing up to do, unlike my friend over there." He lowered Eriol's limp body into his car. He stepped back, looked at Sakura. "All right. In you go." He gave her a little nudge forward.

She jerked a little when he touched her but forced herself to not shrink away, reminding herself that he was doing her a very generous favor. She slid onto the car seat beside Eriol. "Watch your feet," cautioned the boy. Sakura pulled her legs into the car, and he shut the door. He walked around his car quickly and plopped down in the driver's seat. He immediately peered into the mirror.

"Aw, my hair's all messed up now," he complained lightly, combing his fingers through his matted locks.

Syaoran decided to give up his silent status and scoffed. "It's not like it looked good in the first place," he muttered.

His friend gave him a withering look. "Well, Mister Perfect, at least I risked my hair in the rain to help a lady in need."

"I hardly call her a lady."

Sakura sat up straighter at that. "Hey, I'm still here," she said dryly.

"And?"

She could feel the taunt of that single word like a prod in the back with a stick, edging her on. Fine. If he wanted to resort to childish acts, she would have to be the mature one.

Or she could just sink to his level. Yeah, that sounded more appealing.

But before she could reply to that, his friend spoke up. "Don't let Syaoran get to you, Miss. You know how businessmen are," he said mildly, putting the car into drive.

Syaoran grunted but said nothing, reverting back to his stony silence.

The other boy turned in his seat and looked at her. "Do you have a name? Unless you want me to call you 'Miss' the whole car ride."

Sakura blinked, then glanced at Eriol. Her fingers laced through his for comfort. "My name? It's, uh, Hiiragizawa Sak—" She stopped, hesitating for a quick moment. Should she give her real first name? It would probably be safe. There were sixty thousand other Sakuras residing in Japan, anyway. "I'm Hiiragizawa Sakura. And you are?" she asked. She didn't exactly care one way or another what his name was, but she remembered it was the polite thing to say, and he had been so courteous to her already.

The boy began driving forward. "Oh, I'm just Yamazaki Takashi. Nothing special. I'm pretty sure you already know who he is." He indicated his mute friend.

Sakura leaned back into her seat. "Aside from his first name, I know nothing about him."

"Really?" Yamazaki seemed truly surprised—shocked, even—by her answer. "You must either have been isolated from civilization or you came from a faraway city. Everyone around here knows who Li Syaoran is."

She fixed her gaze to the shoulder of the man they were discussing, hoping that her heated glare would burn a hole in it. "Let me guess. He's one of those stuck-up CEOs of big time companies that everyone's heard of," she said before she could stop herself. She winced. Had she been too rude? Would Yamazaki decide to throw her out of his car?

But he merely shrugged. His eyes flickered to Li for a moment, as if worried that her words had angered him, but Li remained stubbornly taciturn. "Yeah, Syaoran's pretty well-known around here. And so is his company. I work there, too, but I'm just one of the smaller workers. Syaoran only hired me because we're friends. He's at the top, since he inherited the entire business. What do you do, Hiiragizawa-san?"

She was about to remind him that Eriol wasn't in a state to be spoken to, but then she realized that he was talking to her. She had to get used to being called by that name. "Um, what was that?"

"Your job," he explained. "What do you do?"

Caught off guard, she bit her lip, sinking down further into her seat. What sort of question was that? She had to give him an answer. "I, um... get... get paid to—er... s-sing," she said lamely.

As unconvincing as that was, Yamazaki seemed to buy it. The guy was a gullible idiot. "Really? Sounds like a fun occupation. Do people ask you to perform at parties or something?"

Sakura would have answered affirmatively just to shut him up, but her brain contradicted her at once. Singing had never been one of her talents, so if he wanted hire her for party of his she would have to whip up another lie about why she couldn't attend. And she was starting to become sick of lying, to her disgust. She was going soft. "I only sing at—at night, er, clubs. Nightclubs," was all she could think of. Mentally, she smacked herself. Her ability to lie effortlessly was definitely deteriorating.

He raised his eyebrows at her in the rearview mirror. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen," she answered automatically, and wanted to shoot herself afterward for not remembering that the legal age is twenty.

But he didn't pay attention to that. She saw him frown slightly, almost pouting. "Everyone is older than me," he complained. "Even my girlfriend is, I think. I'm not sure, actually. She's going to kill me for forgetting her birthday. Oh, wait, what about your brother? He looks young." He was brightening up at the thought.

"He's my older brother," she replied, crushing his hopeful expression. She felt a twinge of sadistic satisfaction.

His pout returned. "Oh. Well, forget about that. What's your favorite color, then? I don't really have one because I like almost all colors, but if I absolutely had to choose one it would be dark blue, like my pants. Well, not really like these pants now that the rain made it darken to an almost black, but you get the idea. What's yours?" he babbled.

Suppressing an exasperated sigh, she told him it was red, a darker version of what it had been last year. He said it was cool and that it had been his favorite three weeks ago, then started telling her about a party he'd recently hosted.

The duration of the trip continued on like that, with Yamazaki blabbing endlessly about everything and nothing. Under normal circumstances, Sakura would have rested her head against the window of the car and block out the incessant chatter. But having her traveling companion lying unconscious and sopping wet inside a stranger's car could hardly be considered "normal," even with her bizarre lifestyle. In addition to that, Yamazaki kept interrogating her on the most random of subjects, pressing and pressing until she supplied him with a monosyllable answer. He was giving her a migraine. The boy just didn't know when to shut up. She couldn't see his face, but she was sure Li was smirking, taking pleasure in her irritation.

It's to save Eriol, she reminded herself, eye twitching as Yamazaki launched into a lengthy joke about strawberry gelatin, a twig, and a stuffed rabbit. It wasn't funny in the least, but she said a feeble "Ha, ha" to satisfy him once he finished. He grinned and ceased talking for ten seconds. The quiet had been blissful. Then his rambling began again, and her peace ended.

Sakura must have nodded off at one point or another because she was startled awake when Yamazaki yelled out sharply. She began to get off of Eriol—whom she had used as a pillow—but, having neglected to secure herself down with a seatbelt, was instantly thrown off her seat and onto the floor as Yamazaki stamped on the brakes, the car screeching to an precarious stop. Eriol's foot slipped down and collided with the back of her head, smearing dirt and bits of leaves into her hair.

As she pulled Eriol's foot off her head and struggled to get up, Yamazaki twisted around and beamed at her. "We're here," he said in his nauseatingly cheery way. "Syaoran's house."

Sakura scrambled back onto her seat before he—or worse, Li—could fully notice that she had made a fool of herself by falling off. She plucked a leaf out of her hair and peered out the window to see what sort of place he brought her to—and did a double take. She blinked three times at the scene before her eyes. That was no house she was openly gawking at.

Li lived in a mansion. A freaking, bloody mansion.

Colossal was the only word that could adequately describe it. It was a practically a modernized version of a castle, completely surrounded by trimmed hedges covering a fence stretching a hundred meters into the sky. A fancy iron gate greeted them at the front. They swung open as Yamazaki drove forward. As the distance between Li's home and the car narrowed, Sakura raised her head to stare up at the mansion. She counted six floors and only got up to thirty-seven windows before the car pulled up so close to the building she had to strain her neck in order to get a good view from her angle.

The moment the car stopped moving, Sakura saw the double doors of the mansion heave open. A man emerged and drifted to Li's side of the car. The man, his figure distorted by the raindrops that clung to the window, pulled open the car door.

"Welcome back, Syaoran-sama," Sakura heard him say as Li exited the vehicle. He was a nice looking elderly man in a suit. "I apologize for the lack of an umbrella. They were all destroyed by one of the puppies. I shall have Sumi-san bring a towel."

"Thank you, Wei."

She was astonished that Li had manners.

Yamazaki removed his keys from the ignition and pocketed them. "Wait right there. I'll help you out," he said to Sakura. He got out of the car, waving dismissively at Wei, who moved to assist him. "You don't have to do that every time, Wei-san. I can get out myself."

Wei bowed. "Of course, Yamazaki-san. Shall I attend to your guests?"

"It's okay. I can help them. You get back inside, Wei-san. We don't want you getting sick."

"Thank you, Yamazaki-san. You are very kind." Wei gave another bow and vanished inside the mansion after Li.

The door on Eriol's side was opened, and Yamazaki poked his head in.

"Time to go inside," he told her. As she helped him carry Eriol into the great building, Sakura knew this was going to be a long day. And definitely not an ordinary one.

From the sofa where Yamazaki instructed Sakura to sit, she saw that Li had his arms folded across his chest, a hard look on his face. "And why exactly do they have to stay here? I never agreed to this," he grumbled.

"But you never objected to it, either," replied Yamazaki cheekily.

"But even if I did, you wouldn't have listened. Why didn't you take them to your home?"

The younger man shrugged. "I can't. We don't have any space. You know that. You have eight hundred unoccupied rooms. Have a heart—pick one and let the guy rest in there for the day. Ask your sister to help him. Isn't she a medic or something?"

"She's only training, but I don't want her to lay a finger on him," said Li with a scowl. He removed his jacket and passed it to a maid hovering nearby, who had been staring him with an utmost intensity. She scurried off and came back an instant later, the jacket gone, replaced by a fluffy towel. Li took it from her and used it to dry off his hair. Sakura had to seize a decorative pillow to smother her snort when she saw how his dark hair stuck up in twelve directions. Luckily, he didn't, or chose not to, hear her and tossed the damp towel at the maid, giving her a little nod, a sign that she was dismissed. Her face fell a little, as if she were expecting something else, but she bowed twice, once at each man, and left.

Li tried to tidy his hair by combing his fingers through it. That only made it messier, but instead of looking silly, he looked rather... rather...

No. She was not going to finish that thought.

They were headed towards her. At least, Yamazaki was. Li was going in the opposite direction, clearly not wanting anything to do with the filthy girl in his lounge. She stuck out her tongue at his back.

"Looks like you're staying here," stated Yamazaki happily as he reached her. But then he lowered his voice, appearing more solemn. "Listen, I'm really sorry about how Syaoran is treating you. He—"

Sakura didn't allow him to finish. "It's okay. I don't mind, really. I'm used to it by now." The last part was said so quietly she was certain the boy hadn't heard her.

"Well, he's a nice guy once you get to know him. He's a little bitter from a dilemma he's been dealing with during the past few months, so hopefully that'll pass soon. He hated me when I first met him. Actually" —he looked thoughtful— "I'm not sure if he still does or not. I mean, we're best friends—at least, to my knowledge. I still can't figure him out sometimes. Am I helping?"

"Not really."

He laughed. "Anyway, you get the point. Just try not to strangle him during your stay."

"No promises there," she said under her breath. To Yamazaki, she said, "I won't."

"Good. Let's find a place for your brother."

Choosing a room sounded straightforward enough. Li's mansion contained, quite literally, eight hundred unoccupied rooms. It couldn't be too tricky to find one. But then Yamazaki explained that Li had provided guidelines in picking the ideal room. By Li's standards, ideal meant that it could not be on the same floors as his or his sister's rooms. Li's room was on the first floor. His sister's was on the second. They had no other choice but to settle for one on the third floor.

Transporting Eriol to the room was no easy mission. Sakura suggested that they use a stretcher of some sort, but, being the man he was, Yamazaki insisted on carrying Eriol.

Several flights of stairs later, the two were sliding Eriol into a king-sized bed inside an enormous guest bedroom.

Yamazaki moved back a little. "I wish your brother was awake. He seems like a cool guy. We could be friends."

"What makes you say that?"

He shrugged. "He just has that look, you know? He looks like the type of guy who acts cool, calm, and collected in every situation. Hey, you must want a chair. I'll get you one." Sakura began to protest, but he was already out of the room.

He needs to put less sugar in his coffee. Or switch to decaf, she thought. She had never met anyone like him before. He was always going going going, never pausing to breathe.

She scarcely had time to move before Yamazaki returned with a wooden chair and a glass of water. He set the chair down in front of Sakura. The glass of water was placed on a table.

"Here you go," he said, beaming at her for some reason. "I figured you'd be thirsty, so I brought you some water, too."

"Thanks," said Sakura, feeling awkward. She took a sip of the water to please him. He continued to grin at her, as if he had achieved a great goal.

Suddenly he stopped smiling. "Oh, you probably want to spend some time with your brother, huh? I'll leave you alone for a while. Sound all right with you?" At her nod, he turned and exited the room. "Just call if you need anything, okay?" she heard him add, his voice echoing in the vast hallway.

Sakura breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be rid of the boy. After dropping her backpack into a corner of the room, she went to attend to Eriol. She pulled Eriol into a sitting position and slid off his damp blazer, tossing it to the side of the bed. Then she smoothed out his shirt, removed his shoes, and dabbed at the dirt that streaked his face with her sleeve. Ever so gently, she laid him back down, pulling the comforter up to his chest.

"I'll be expecting a detailed explanation when you wake up, Eriol," she whispered. Hesitantly, she planted a light kiss to his cheek.

"It's nice to see you again, Sakura-chan," came a serene voice behind her.

Sakura jumped at the unanticipated intrusion, nearly toppling onto Eriol. She regained her composure, then straightened up and turned to face the new speaker. Her eyes opened wide at the girl waiting at the room's entrance.

"Daidouji?" said Sakura disbelievingly, gaping at the person standing by the door. She stood politely, a crackled glass vase filled with peonies in her hands. Sakura could scarcely recall what the girl looked like, but she definitely remembered the flowing purple hair that tumbled down her back. Then she spotted that messenger bag she had been asked to rummage through just a day before. Sakura was positive it was the same person who had assisted her with Eriol.

The girl shook her head. "It's Tomoyo, remember? Not Daidouji." She walked further into the room and set the vase of flowers she had been holding down on the table near Eriol's bed, next to the water glass. "Just thought this room needed a little more color," she explained.

"What are you doing here?" spilled out of Sakura's mouth.

Tomoyo merely adjusted the vase's position on the table and smiled sweetly at Sakura. "I live here. What other explanation is there?" She glided over to Eriol without another word. Her gaze descended upon his face. "He really is pale, isn't he?" she murmured, reaching a flawless hand down to brush some hair away from his closed eyes. "There. That looks a little better, don't you think?"

But Sakura had frozen after Tomoyo said she lived here, that this was her home. "You live with Li?" she had to ask, unable to stray off the subject. Are they a couple? she wondered. It was difficult to envision that sweet girl with a man of his type.

Tomoyo slid her hand off Eriol's face. She moved to look at Sakura. "Syaoran, you mean?"

Sakura nodded.

"Why, of course. After all, siblings have been known to dwell under the same roof."

The image of the dour-faced man with the bird's nest of chocolate brown hair, rigid posture, and aloof eyes flashed in Sakura's mind. Then she peered at Tomoyo, with her gorgeous, unnaturally colored tresses that swept past her hips, twinkling eyes the deep purple of amethysts, slight body, and completely at-ease expression. No matter how hard Sakura tried to compare them, she could find no resemblance between the two whatsoever.

"You're siblings? As in, brother and sister?" she blurted, utterly skeptical.

Tomoyo had prepared herself for this outburst. "Syaoran is my half-brother, actually. His father divorced his mother and married mine a year before I was born. Unfortunately—" She paused, a sad smile on her face. "Unfortunately, they both passed away when I was an infant. I can remember their faces only faintly now, if I don't look at their photos, so I'm not quite so distraught over it. I do sometimes wish that they were still alive, but I'm happy with my life at the moment." She seemed to have finished speaking. She lowered herself onto the wooden chair Sakura had pulled beside Eriol.

Sakura felt a small pang of something deep within her. It was indistinct, but it was there nonetheless. She pressed her hand to the area above her heart, right where the strange sensation was coming from, to rid herself of it. It stayed. "Why do you live here, then?" she inquired to distract herself from the odd feeling.

"Syaoran's mother adopted me," answered Tomoyo, watching Eriol's chest rise and fall evenly. "She gave me a place to stay, fed me, raised me as one of her own. I've lived here for fourteen years, so she is the closest thing I've had to a mother that I can remember. It's the similar case with Syaoran. I think of him as my real brother, not just a half brother. Is it the same with you and...?" She trailed off here and looked at Sakura, expecting something.

Sakura was lost. "Me and who?"

Tomoyo brought her hand to Eriol's forehead once more, pushing back the lock of hair that refused to cooperate. "Him. Your brother. What is his name?"

"He's not—" Sakura stopped herself just in time. "I mean, his name is Eriol."

Nice save, genius, mocked her inner voice. She bit her lower lip hard to suppress the retort she knew she would have yelled out loud.

"Eriol," Tomoyo repeated thoughtfully. "Such a nice name. It sounds a little foreign, doesn't it?"

"He's partly English," said Sakura. This is true, she reflected, relieved that she didn't have to generate yet another lie.

"Ah. Does that mean you are too, Sakura-chan?"

So much for not lying. "Yeah, same as, er, Onii-chan," she added, then cringed inwardly. It felt bizarre to call Eriol that. She reached out and grabbed the glass of water beside the vase of peonies, bringing it to her lips to wash down the fib. Where had her ability to lie smoothly gone?

Tomoyo leaned forward in her seat, propping her elbows on her knees to rest her face in her hands. "Can you say something for me in English? I've been studying a bit in school and I wonder if I can understand any yet."

Sakura's hand flew to her throat the moment she started choking on the water. Before anything could leak out, she clamped her mouth closed and swallowed. Almost straight away she fell into a fit of harsh coughing. "S-sorry," she gasped. "I drank a little too much." It was a lame excuse, but her mind didn't seem to be functioning properly that day. "Er, what was the question?"

"Can you say something in English?"

Sakura fought the panic, forced it back into her stomach. Eriol had made the attempt to teach her parts of the language, but her tongue wasn't capable of forming the correct syllables, the results sounding horribly butchered. She would have to tell Tomoyo the truth and still make it seem like she and Eriol were truly related. "Well, to be honest, I don't know English. Eriol is fluent in it because he was born in England, but I was born here. When he wakes, you can ask him." She discreetly held her breath, awaiting Tomoyo's response.

Tomoyo kept her glittering eyes glued to Sakura a little longer than necessary. It was disconcerting. Sakura squirmed under the girl's searching gaze, but thankfully she turned away a moment after. Her scrutiny was focused on Eriol instead. "What happened to your brother?" she asked in a softer tone.

"An accident," Sakura said immediately. Tomoyo seemed to accept this, but then Sakura thought about what she told Yamazaki. The trouble with lying was that she had to be certain that her stories and excuses matched previous ones, which would unavoidably lead to a chain of more lies. "I don't know, actually," she said, deciding to stay vague. "He just... collapsed as we were walking home."

"Oh." Tomoyo calmed, relaxing into the chair, yet still managing to look poised. A second later, she bolted up. Concern darkened her eyes. "Was it because of me? Did I bind the bandages too tightly?" she asked urgently, leaning forward again. She appeared to genuinely care about Eriol's well-being, judging by the guilty look she wore.

Sakura found herself wanting to reassure the girl. "It wasn't your fault. He was probably weak from the loss of so much blood. In fact," she said, forcing a shadow of a smile upon her face, "if you hadn't come along, he would have bled to death. I should thank you aga—"

Someone at the doorway interrupted her. It was Wei.

"Tomoyo-sama, there has—" He halted upon seeing Sakura. "Oh—I apologize," he said. "Am I intruding?"

Tomoyo rose from the chair gracefully, like a queen. "Not at all, Wei-san. Sakura-chan and I were just talking. Do you need something?"

Wei bowed respectfully to Sakura, which she thought was completely redundant. "I have been notified by Madoka-san that Kero-chan has returned, and he is with a friend."

Sakura lifted an eyebrow. What sort of name is Kero?

But at the mention of the name, Tomoyo perked up and all traces of her previous serenity dissipated. She clapped her hands together in childlike delight. "Oh, that's wonderful! That's the last time I let Kero-chan run around without his leash after feeding him that new sugar-loaded dog food." She turned to Sakura. "Sakura-chan, do excuse me. My puppy's come back!" She bent down and snatched her messenger bag with one fluid movement. Before Sakura could blink, she dashed out of the room. Wei followed, leaving Sakura alone with her unconscious traveling companion.

Taking Tomoyo's place in the wooden chair, she waited for the girl to return. Bowing her head slightly, Sakura sent two words after Tomoyo. They were whispered.

"Thank you."

She rubbed her eyes, struck with a sudden wave of fatigue. Just a quick nap, only until Tomoyo comes back, she reasoned with herself. She rested her head on the bed, nestling against Eriol's side. Sleep took over.

Sakura hadn't realized how exhausted she was until a series of shrill barks had weaved its way into her dream of swimming in a pool of chilled sake, causing her to swallow a mouthful and drown. She woke and found herself sprawled out on the floor with a heavy object on her stomach. She blinked at it numerous times before finally placing a name upon it. While trying to sit up, she sputtered, "Suppi-chan! What—why—how did you—"

Just then, a flash of something small and yellow charged into the room and attacked Suppi, throwing him off Sakura. As she watched on, the two forms brawled around a bit on the ground before Suppi growled loudly and knocked the yellow thing away with his paw. Sakura saw that it was a teeny little puppy. It resembled Suppi when she first met him, the only difference being its golden fur. It certainly was a bundle of energy, getting reared up to pounce again. It sprang up, and Sakura reached out and grabbed it in midair, bringing it to her. The puppy became limp and stared at her.

"Hello," she said to it.

It stared a while longer, then barked happily in her face.

Tomoyo appeared at the door then with a leash, seeming breathless and harassed. Once she caught sight of the puppy in Sakura's hands, she sighed in relief. "I see you've met Kero-chan," she said, moving into the room, wisely pulling the door shut behind her. She kneeled and scooped the bouncy pup into her arms. Kero barked several more times and licked her cheek. She laughed elatedly—a musical sound.

Awkwardly, Sakura shifted until she was on her knees and was facing Tomoyo. "Is he yours?" she asked.

Tomoyo gave a nod. "One of the older dogs gave birth to him three weeks ago. He was a premature pup, so I had to pay him extra attention for a while. I think I'm starting to regret doing so because Kero-chan is just so lively all the time that it's hard to keep track of him!"

Kero was growing fidgety in her arms, so he was released. Right away, he made a beeline for Suppi and launched himself on the elder canine, who looked tremendously annoyed to be in the same room as the pup.

"Well... 'lively' is one word to describe him," said Sakura as she observed Kero crawl on Suppi, only to be shrugged off, tumbling several feet away. She could think of a few other words, like hyperactive or high or on crack.

Before Kero could further irk Suppi and get himself killed, Tomoyo intervened and lifted him off the floor. She fastened the leash to his collar, securing the opposite end to the knob of the door. Kero flailed around, seeking freedom, but with no avail. Resigning, he curled up into a tiny ball and went to sleep.

"I don't know whose dog this is," she said, gesturing at Suppi, "but Sumi-chan told me that he was begging to be let in, whether to escape from Kero-chan or the storm, I'm not sure. But I think I'll take him in if I can't find—"

"He's mine," Sakura broke in. At Suppi's low growl, she rolled her eyes and corrected herself. "Okay, Eriol's. But I saved him from a cruel and untimely death," she added loudly, hoping to earn the dog's gratitude. Suppi stood, and for a moment Sakura thought that the hostile haze he had towards her floating around his head had evaporated, but he only hopped on Eriol's bed and snuggled against his master's side.

"Suppi-chan is not a nice dog," said Sakura.

"Really? He seems like such a sweetie."

Sakura turned to see Tomoyo making her way over to Suppi. She reached out a hand, about to pet him.

"Don't touch him. He's vicious!" Sakura warned, starting to stand. Tomoyo's fingers touched Suppi's head, and he took immediate action. Quicker than Sakura could see, he attacked.

"Suppi-chan—NO! Don't kill her!" she cried. Covering her eyes with her hands, she braced herself for the screams.

They came, but they were different than what she'd been anticipating. These weren't screams of someone being ripped apart. They were cries of—utter delight?

Sakura dared to peek through her fingers, and her mouth opened in incredulity. Tomoyo had fallen backwards onto the bed, her head an inch away from Eriol's waist. Suppi stood over her, licking her face, his tail avidly wagging. Still giggling, she pulled him off her.

"Oh, he's so friendly!" she exclaimed. "Not vicious at all!"

Sakura crossed her arms. "Pfft. To everyone but me," she grumbled, narrowing her eyes at the dog. "Here—observe." With Tomoyo watching, she approached Suppi with the caution one would have advancing toward a pipe bomb, and held out a finger. Suppi eyed it suspiciously as Sakura waved it back and forth above his head, a sausage suspended on a string.

After a while, Tomoyo pointed out, "He's not doing anything."

Sakura shut her eyes in frustration. "He's probably just waiting for me to let my guard—" She yelped and abruptly snatched her hand back as Suppi snapped his jaws at her. Her heart pounded from the unexpected fright; she'd been a hair's width away from having her finger chewed off.

Tomoyo wrapped her arms around Suppi's neck securely, restraining him from jumping at Sakura. "Hmm. I see," she said thoughtfully. "I suppose you're right. He does hate you."

"Thanks."

"Mhmm."

Sakura took a few paces back, and then sat on the ground, cross-legged. From this safe distance, she took to glaring at Suppi for the next minute. The glare was returned.

"Sakura-chan?" Tomoyo asked, deciding to put an end to the staring contest.

"Yes?"

"Your hand is bleeding."

That startled her. "Huh?" Looking down, she saw that Tomoyo was right. On the back of her right hand, there was a large scrape. The skin there had peeled away and blood was welling up. The injured area stung.

"Your hand struck the corner of the table when you pulled it away from Suppi-chan," explained Tomoyo. "I recommend you wash it before it gets an infection. On second thought, I'll have someone draw you a bath. Please don't take offence, but you seem a little dirty. Did you trip in the rain?"

Sakura nodded. That's not the only reason, she thought. "Landed in the mud," she replied, stretching the truth, if only a little. "It would be nice to take a real bath for once," she said, without thinking.

Tomoyo tilted her head. "Pardon?'

"Nothing," Sakura was quick to say. "We only have a shower cubicle at home, no tub. Um, where's the bathroom?"

"There's one on each floor. I recommend you use the first floor bathroom because I left my first aid kit in there. Do you know how to treat a wound, or would you like me to lend a hand?"

"I can do it myself."

"Great." Tomoyo stood, setting Suppi aside. She strode over to where Kero was napping. Carefully, to avoid disturbing the puppy, she opened the door slowly. "Ooh, here's someone," she said, spotting a figure walking by. "Takuna-chan!" she called into the hall.

The maid entered the room. "Yes, Tomoyo-sama?" she said.

"Could you prepare a bath for my friend, please? On the first floor, if it's vacant."

She gave a bow. "As you wish, Tomoyo-sama."

"Thank you. Sakura-chan, if you follow her, she'll lead you to the bathroom. Don't worry," added Tomoyo with a smile, sensing Sakura's reluctance, "I'll see what's wrong with Hiiragizawa-kun. Take some time to relax, okay?"

"Well... okay," said Sakura. She went with the maid, taking one last peek at Eriol over her shoulder before she shut the door.

Takuna stepped aside. "Your bath is ready, Miss," she said to Sakura.

"Thanks." Sakura didn't move, and neither did the maid. She waited for Takuna to leave so she could undress in solitude. Takuna didn't budge, only stood there with her hands folded in front of her, watching Sakura.

"Aren't you going to leave?" asked Sakura, growing uncomfortable.

The maid seemed puzzled. "Don't you need help?"

"Well—no. I'm quite capable of bathing by myself." Does Tomoyo have to live with this every day? she wondered.

"Should I leave, then, Miss?"

"Um, sure."

Takuna bowed (Is everyone in this place always so formal? thought Sakura) and Sakura listened to her shoes click-clack out of the room. She was left in peace at last.

She quickly shed her clothes, but she was forced to slow down when her rapid movements caused her right hand to throb painfully. She had not realized how forcefully she slammed it into the table. Her clothes formed a small pile, which she pushed away to keep it from getting splashed with water. First dipping her foot into the water to test its warmth, she found it comfortable and slid in.

The warm water was heavenly. Sakura allowed it to envelop her body as she sank into the depths of the bubbles.

She heard someone enter the room. She impulsively ducked down into the water, but she saw that it was only Takuna. She relaxed, turning back to the bath, and then reached for the shampoo.

Syaoran was outraged. "You told my sister which room that heathen and... and... thief are in?" he yelled at his best friend.

"Yep," said Yamazaki cheerfully, enraging Syaoran even more. He took a bite out of the sandwich he had been eating before his best friend stomped into the dining room.

"After I specifically told you not to!"

Yamazaki shrugged. He swallowed. "I don't see what the harm is. The guy needed a doctor, and Daidouji-san is conveniently trained to help sick people."

"You do realize that, in order to help him, Tomoyo would have to touch him."

"So?"

"Who knows what he might try!"

Yamazaki set his sandwich down. Putting on a reasonable tone, he said, "Syaoran. The guy is unconscious. Even if he wanted to try something, he can't. And Hiiragizawa-san is not a thief. She seems like a very nice girl."

"You think sharks are nice, too."

"They are, if you just give them a chance—"

Syaoran pushed his chair back, standing up. "Hang on. Are you saying that if the guy was awake, he would try something?"

"No, no, not at all. I shouldn't have put it that way. What I meant was—ah, hang on, I have a call," Yamazaki said, taking his vibrating cell phone out of his pocket. By the time he pressed it to his ear, Syaoran was already headed to the second floor.

"Oh—Chiharu-chan..." he heard Yamazaki say brightly.

Syaoran barged into Tomoyo's room without knocking. Tomoyo looked up from her bed, her sewing items strewn around her.

"Hello. How was the business meeting?" she calmly inquired.

"What did he try?" demanded Syaoran.

She resumed her sewing. "I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about."

"You're toying with me again. You know exactly who I'm talking about."

"But I really don't," she insisted, hiding her smile behind the dress she was tailoring.

"That guy. Third floor. Guestroom," he seethed.

"Ah. Him. Don't worry, I took care of him," said Tomoyo mysteriously.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing," she said, far too innocently.

"Did you touch him?"

"Oh, Syaoran. Of course I touched him. I had to in order to make my diagnosis." She noted with amusement that his eyes were glinting with a murderous intent. As much as she'd love to play with his mind a little longer, she knew she should stop. "I only touched his face. To put the thermometer in his mouth," she said. She found it unwise to tell him that she had reached under Eriol's shirt to feel for his pulse.

Or that she had traced the strange scar she found on his stomach, traced it down, down, until she realized with a start that her hand had somehow traveled beyond the waistband of his boxers.

Syaoran narrowed his eyes. "That's all?" He had the suspicion that she was lying.

"That's all."

"Fine. But you are not to step foot within ten meters of that room."

Tomoyo nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. "I won't. Promise." Beneath the dress, her fingers were crossed.

"Good." He started to leave.

"Onii-chan?" she said in her sweetest voice.

"What?" he snarled, turning. He learned from experience that whenever she used that tone, he wasn't going to like what would come out of her mouth next.

"Could you please do me a favor?"

"I have forms to fill out."

"In your room."

"Yes." He was impatient.

"First floor."

"You know where my room is, Tomoyo."

"Can you deliver something on the way there? It won't take long."

"Deliver what?"

"Well..."

Wrapped in only a towel, Sakura cursed loudly, the word ricocheting off the walls. She stood there stupidly, shivering. Water dripped off the ends of her hair. She was clean, yes, but there was one problem. Her clothes had vanished.

It was probably that maid Takuna who had taken them, most likely on Tomoyo's request. The question was: why? She could have at least left her underwear. Or even her cap.

Sakura could only think of one thing to do. She had to somehow sneak out of the bathroom and reach her backpack. That is, without being seen. The first thing she did was treat the scrape on the back of her right hand with the items in Tomoyo's first aid kit, because it bothered her. Making sure that her towel covered as much skin as a towel possibly could, she turned the doorknob of the door leading out of the room. Painfully slowly, she pushed it open.

Waiting three feet before her was the tall, intimidating figure of Li Syaoran.

She reacted the very same way she did when she first met him—by squealing like a pig and falling backward. Luckily, her foot kicked the door closed just before the towel slipped from her hand.

This can't get any more embarrassing, she groaned in her mind as she lay on the cold marble floor. She sat up gingerly, rubbing her head, and rewrapped the towel around her body. Part of her favored lingering in the bathroom until Li grew bored from waiting and left. The other part was curious as to what it was Li wanted. Perhaps he had cut himself and was bleeding freely, and he only needed to reach the first aid kit. Maybe waiting was the better choice. That way, he'd bleed to death and she would be rid of him.

But her inquisitive side dominated, yearning to see what the man's business was. Sakura took a deep yet shaky breath, and then opened the door a crack.

"What is it?" she growled, holding the towel together securely.

Li held out something in his hands. Sakura saw that he was looking her in the eyes and not anywhere below her face.

Not that he'd be interested, she thought bitterly, surprising herself. Again, she was unable to hold his gaze.

"Clothes. From Tomoyo," he said indifferently.

Sakura noticed that a pair of heels rested on top of the pile, and under that, quite visibly, was a brassiere. Mortified, she shot out her hand and grabbed the clothes, eternally grateful that the bra hadn't slipped out of her grasp. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. She heard Li walk away as soon as the door was closed.

As she waited for her face to cool, though she still wasn't sure of the reason to her frequent blushing, she put the clothes on. Tomoyo had selected a simple but pretty long-sleeved dress. No ruffles, lace, or a hemline that stopped mid-thigh. Just a plain, green dress with a normal, knee-high hemline. Despite the simplicity, it seemed classy, especially after she slipped on the black heels and stockings. Once she blow-dried and forced a brush through her tangled hair, Sakura stared at her reflection. She barely recognized the clean girl in the sophisticated attire in the mirror. She felt like she was in high school again, preparing to go to a dance.

The dress was a size or two too big, and the undergarments didn't fit quite right. Her feet felt cramped inside the heels, which were too high. This outfit didn't suit her at all, but she was still glad that she had something to wear, however ill-fitting. Still, she yearned for her cap, or anything to cover her hair. Without it she felt exposed, as if her identity were floating above her head. Her face looked mostly unchanged, though a little gaunt—her eyes were the same green, skin still pale despite her time spent outside.

She moved away from the mirror. Now was no time to focus on glamour. She was anxious to check on Eriol's condition, wondering if Tomoyo had learned what was wrong with him. She left the bathroom, teetering a little on her heels.

As she walked past the dining room someone called out to her. "Hiiragizawa-san? Could you come here a moment?"

Sakura recognized Yamazaki's voice, but something was off about it. It sounded... dull. She moved into the room.

Was that Yamazaki? He was sitting at the dinner table, but his head was in his arms and he was slouching, a big contrast to his cheerful demeanor earlier.

When Sakura entered, he looked at her. He looked horrible, almost dead. It seemed like he had been crying before he asked her to come in.

"My girlfriend would like to speak with you," he said, his voice flat. He gestured into the lounge, at a girl seated on one of the couches. She was hugging a pillow to her chest tightly, staring at the rug below her feet. Yamazaki dropped his head back into his arms.

At the introduction, the girl spoke. She kept her head bowed, her braids falling into her face. "Hiiragizawa-san. I do believe we've met before," she said, very softly. She finally raised her head, and Sakura looked straight into the emotional eyes of someone who had experienced much sorrow. The sorrow of a girl whose engagement to the man she loved had been forcefully cancelled.

A/N: My author's note is going to be a little shorter today. Yes, big surprise. I'm just really tired right now. Don't get me wrong. I love writing this fic, but I mean that it's late and I haven't done any homework during spring break. I used all my time to finish this chapter. Because I love my readers, though I'm sure that I lost many of them.

The worst term of the school year has passed; expect more frequent updates from me. I actually know what to put in my next chapter.

There's really nothing else to say. I'll return tomorrow to fix any mistakes I made in the chapter. So, please leave a review with any questions you have because, and I'm telling the truth, I might give away some more info about the plot if you ask questions. One faithful reviewer (forgive me for being too tired to find your name) mentioned in her review about the whereabouts of Suppi, whom I'd completely forgotten about. Reviewing not only makes me very happy, but it can benefit you, also. I do reply to every single one of my reviews, no matter how short. Thank you to my readers and (hopefully) reviewers.

Goodnight. :)

Until next time,

- Mimi

EDIT: So, I know that this chapter strongly hints a SakuraxEriol pairing, and maybe even SyaoranxTomoyo. I can't assure you anything, but I will tell you that Sakura cares for Eriol like he's a best friend, and Syaoran is being a knucklehead older brother. I hope you don't mind that I made Syaoran and Tomoyo half-siblings. That was my wacky explanation for Tomoyo's mysterious father. In the anime, Tomoyo does seem to play the part of a meddling younger sister to Syaoran. And for all you Eriol fans, he won't be unconscious forever. There will be an explanation for his condition later.

(And Choco, I will continue to make shoutouts to you to make sure you haven't drowned in schoolwork. :D)