A/N: The better Author's Note is at the end. And please read it, it's actually important this time, not just full of my ramblings.
Introduced a side plot. And a thousand words in Syaoran's POV. Try to not explode from information overload. I almost did, and I'm the writer. Longest chapter yet. Did I really hit the ten thousand mark?
Disclaimer: Cardcaptor Sakura and Co. belong to Clamp. The plot be mine.
F o r g e t - M e – N o t
B y : E n t r a n c i a
Chapter Eight: Rebellion
Yamazaki's girlfriend patted the couch cushion beside her. "Please sit," she said.
Sakura didn't move for a moment, because the girl had spoken in a voice so low it was nearly inaudible. But when the words sunk in she complied without another thought, feeling overwhelmed to see yet another familiar face. All too conscious that the girl was watching her every wobbly, concentrated step, Sakura tried to make it seem like this wasn't her first time in nearly two years wearing heels. She made her way over to the couch, sat down, and waited — but the other girl said nothing more.
Sakura squirmed in the uncomfortable stillness. The girl sat motionlessly, head bowed, her red hair coming out of her braids. In the dining area, Yamazaki sat slumped in his chair. The room had the air of a funeral: the gloom was so thick.
"So..." Sakura began uneasily.
The girl looked up, but not at Sakura. Not yet. Her gaze searched the room, finally settling on her boyfriend. "How much did you hear?" she whispered.
"Hear...?" Sakura grimaced at the volume she was speaking at. Compared to the softness of the girl's voice, she was practically screaming. "I don't know what you're referring to," she said, a little quieter.
"My dad," was the girl's abrupt reply, her words harsh.
It almost seemed physically painful for the girl to spit out those two words, and Sakura cursed herself for not knowing what the girl had meant. "Enough," she responded. "I heard enough."
The girl bit her lip. "I see," she murmured. "So you know my dilemma." And then she chose that moment to look at Sakura.
The first thing Sakura noticed was how young her face looked. In her eyes Sakura saw that she was older than the girl, by at least a year or two. The girl still had a hint of that innocence — though it was barely there, overpowered by the misery — that Sakura had been forced to surrender in order to survive on the streets. She thought back to the lady of this mansion and her youthful, radiant face, and concluded that Tomoyo was about the same age as the girl. Perhaps the two were friends, or at least attended the same school.
"What dilemma—? Oh. Right." Her inner voice urged her at that moment to console the dejected girl, but she could only utter an uncertain, "I'm sorry."
The girl's mouth was trying to form a reassuring smile, but she couldn't quite manage it. "It's okay," she said. Her voice, though strained, was beginning to acquire some strength. "I know my dad is a bastard. He's always been one."
That sparked a new topic in Sakura's mind, one she knew she should avoid. But she had to ask. "Does he... um..." She made small twitchy motions with her hands, hesitating. "Does he — does he hit you often?"
The girl sensed Sakura's unease. She tried a little harder to smile, this time somewhat succeeding. "Not very often. Only when he is angry, usually. But I'm safe here, though. It's the only place he approves of."
Sakura blinked, thought she misheard the girl. "He... knows you're here," she said, seeking clarification.
"Right. He drove me here and told me that it'll do me some good."
"Do you some good?"
The girl gave that smile-that-looked-more-like-a-wince again. "It's a long and complicated story that traces back to when I was a baby."
"The arranged marriage?"
"Yeah, but it's a forced marriage, not an arranged one, despite what my dad says. I really don't want to go into it." Then she bit her lower lip, which started trembling, her eyes looking threateningly moist.
Sakura lowered her head, suddenly wanting to look at anything but the girl. "Oh. Well, I'm sorry for reminding you." She was being sincere, but there was also a cold edge to her words. She couldn't stand to see people crying. Tears were a sign of weakness, and she had developed a dislike for the weak, particularly those who were well off. There was no excuse for people to be pathetic and frail when they possessed everything they needed to survive. But still, she couldn't help wanting to pat the troubled girl on the back, or perhaps give her a hug and tell her that all will be well...
She shook aside the feeling, succumbing to what her hardened heart instructed her to do. Sympathy was another weakness. So was compassion. She had already allowed herself to care for Eriol, and that somehow landed her in an arrogant rich man and his half-sister's much-better-than-average home.
Sometimes she questioned that decision she made so long ago — choosing to live for her family.
"Hey." The girl was peering into Sakura's face. "Are you all right?" Mild concern lined her words.
Sakura jumped at the voice, and then pressed herself further into the sofa when she saw how close she and the girl were. "I'm fine," she replied, recovering quickly. "Why do you ask?"
The girl retreated to her side of the sofa. "I'm sorry. You just looked out of it for a while. Your face kind of went blank and you were looking at the wall, like this." She put on a dazed expression like she had been hit in the head and stared at something only she could see. She looked so silly that Sakura nearly smiled, but caught herself in time. Now was no time to grow too friendly with someone she barely knew.
The girl seemed to detect some sort of internal struggle taking place inside Sakura. Lightly touching the older girl's shoulder, she asked, "Are you really sure you're oka—"
"I said I'm fine," Sakura snapped, reflexively pulling away from the girl's touch. She instantly regretted her outburst when she saw how the girl retracted as far from Sakura as the sofa allowed, her eyes enlarged with terror.
Inwardly rolling her eyes at the girl's vulnerability, Sakura tried to soothe her. "Listen, I'm sorry for yelling like that. I guess I'm still worried about my friend. He's sick and I don't know what's wrong with him." She hoped that was sufficient to mend the damage she had done.
The girl didn't look as scared now, but she did stay where she was seated. She didn't reply for a long while, and when she did her voice was small. "Sorry for overreacting," she said, starting to fiddle nervously with her fingers. "It's just... you reminded me of my... my dad. You know, when he's angry. I thought — well, I thought you were about to hit me."
"You thought I'd hit you?" exclaimed Sakura incredulously, then toned it down when the girl cringed. "I would never hit anyone, I swear," she said, wide-eyed. She didn't know why she was being so defensive, but she really didn't want the girl to think she was some sort of explosive, ready to detonate at any moment.
Now it was the girl's turn to reassure. "I didn't mean it that way. Really. It was just an impulsive thought. Just me being stupid." She sighed and shut her eyes. "Like always."
Sakura was still for a while, absorbing these words. Like always. "Did your father tell you that?" she asked.
Another soft sigh came from the other side of the sofa. "Yeah. He did."
"I see." What a bastard, thought Sakura.
"And he's right."
"Huh?"
Her delicate face hardened when she spoke. "It was stupid of me to fall in love with Takashi, when I knew from the start that a happily-ever-after wasn't possible," the girl mumbled, her eyes still closed. "But that's all going to change."
Sakura cocked her head at this, sitting up straight. The last thing the girl said was barely comprehensible, a ghost of a whisper. She might have even imagined it. Choosing to wave it away as nothing, she inquired, "Who's Takashi?" Wasn't Yamazaki her boyfriend?
The girl opened her eyes. "Takashi: that idiot over there," she explained. Her expression softened considerably as she pointed to Yamazaki's limp form in the room adjacent.
That was right. Takashi was Yamazaki's first name. Sakura had forgotten, probably because her brain had automatically discarded the name when the boy introduced himself, knowing she would never need to use it.
Acting on a whim, and before she could lose her nerve, Sakura said, "What's your name?"
The girl looked as if she had been expecting this inquiry. "Mihara Chiharu. Soon to be Yamazaki Chiharu," she replied, brightening a bit at her own optimistic words.
Sakura could name one thing wrong with that sentence. "But... um..." she started, then paused, not sure if she should go on. She was sure the next thing to come out of her mouth would crush the bit of glee Mihara had just acquired.
"But what?"
"Well, your father — and the engagement. Didn't he..." Sakura could not bring herself to finish. What was happening to her? One moment she was annoyed at Mihara's obvious weakness, and the next she couldn't bear to make the girl any unhappier.
It had to be the house. An excessive amount of time indoors, the contact with people her own age, the dramatic situations that were arising, even wearing the clothes Tomoyo provided her — they were all factors contributing to Sakura's mixed feelings, rekindling the empathy within her that she had worked so hard to rid from her mind. If she involved herself in any other matters concerning people, she would no longer be able to return to the streets. She needed to get out of this place, out of this domestic environment before it further affected her thinking.
But Mihara was unfazed, not even batting an eyelash. "You're absolutely right," she confirmed. "He did cancel the engagement. He even took away Takashi's ring and made me wear this thing instead." She held out her hand, revealing the very expensive looking diamond ring in the place of the dull gold one before.
"But... why?" posed Sakura, eyeing the sparking gem. It was much prettier than the one Yamazaki had given her.
"Long story short, because I have been engaged to another man since I was a baby," she answered matter-of-factly. "This is the ring he was forced to buy me."
"Well, it looks nice?" offered Sakura awkwardly.
"Thanks. But I don't like it," Mihara said flatly, looking at the ring as though it carried all the world's plagues.
"Then why wear it?"
"Obviously, I can't afford to lose it." She gave a dry laugh. "If I do, I won't live to see the day Takashi and I get married."
"I thought your father—"
Mihara sprang to her feet and whirled around fiercely to face Sakura. "That man will not interfere with my wedding," she declared with such passion that Sakura let out a surprised squeak. She stared at the girl, at her severe determination, and she knew that whatever it was going on between the couple, it was certainly not fake teenage love. It was something far beyond that.
"Say it," Mihara demanded suddenly, slamming her hands down on either sides of Sakura.
"Huh?"
"Say that my dad will not come between Takashi and me."
"O... kay..." said Sakura slowly, more than a little puzzled. "Your father will not come between you and Yamazaki."
Mihara backed off after hearing this, pleased. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."
"Why?" said Sakura, trying to compile herself after being caught off guard again.
"It's not so easy to defy my dad," she admitted. "When he's made up his mind about something, it's almost impossible to get him to change his decision. Especially in this case, when it concerns money."
"You mean the cost of—"
Mihara shook her head no. "We have all that financial stuff covered. By money I meant afterward." At Sakura's puzzled look, she explained, "The future. He doesn't like the man. Takashi isn't from a wealthy family. That's partly why I'm not allowed to marry him. Although"—she took on a harsher tone—"he told me that the reason why is that Takashi won't be able to support me later on in life. Hah. Like he cares about me at all. The real reason I can't see Takashi is that my father will get none of his money after we're together. His greed controls his life, and mine too, apparently. 'You can't survive on love alone,' he said. Damned jerk." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, her persona shifting once more. Before, she had looked like an easily frightened girl. Now, after her heated tirade against her father and with her arms folded across her chest, she seemed much tougher — and very, very pissed.
Sakura lifted her eyebrows, at both Mihara's change of character and her tale. Perhaps she had judged her too soon. Mihara was feisty as hell. And the girl's father had seemed heartless and cruel when she and Eriol wandered into their neighborhood, but to marry off his own daughter to an older man for his wealth, and when she was already head over heels for another... Sakura could only imagine how tormenting that must be. She struggled to find the right thing to say, but "How horrible" was the only thing she could think of. So she said so.
"Yeah. Horrible," echoed Mihara. She let her arms fall limp to her sides and plopped down alongside Sakura. Her anger was brief, fading when she sat. "But, you know," she said, "that's not going to matter once we're together."
Sakura couldn't hold it in any longer. The question burst out of her: "Why do you keep saying that?"
"Hmm? What have I been saying?" asked Mihara.
"You seem to be so sure that you and Yamazaki are going to end up as a couple. Married." Mihara nodded, and Sakura went on. "But you also said that your father is really firm with his decision." There was another nod. "What I want to know is — how? How are you going to convince him to let you marry Yamazaki?" she finished.
"Oh, that." Mihara laughed a little. "I think I should have started out this whole conversation by telling you about that. I wouldn't have wasted so much your time otherwise. I'll waste more of your time if I tell you everything, so to put it short, I have a plan." She wore a smug look, as if the lone thought of crossing her father delighted her.
"A plan," said Sakura, doubtful. She knew all about plans and how they don't always end well. That fire that destroyed everything and everyone she held dear, for example.
"Yes." Mihara took a breath. "And I would very much appreciate it if you help me carry it out."
Sakura leaped up, staring at her with astonishment. "M-me?" she asked, pointing at herself.
"That's what I said."
"Why me? Do you even know who I am?"
"No, should I?"
"No," Sakura answered hurriedly. She remembered her status as a runaway, that the police were searching for her — possibly even as she spoke. "I meant that we've only just met. Wouldn't it be wiser to ask for the help of someone you're more familiar with, who knows the situation better than I do?"
Mihara watched Sakura solemnly. "You are the only one who knows of this. You're the only one who can help me," she said, her voice as solemn as her expression. "So, will you?"
Sakura backed off some more. "I don't — I'm not—" she said, her voice breaking. Panic stirred in her stomach, and the desire to leave the place intensified. She was stuck between two choices.
Say no. That's all it would take. Just say no, her brain was telling her. Don't get involved any more than you need to. This is her problem, not yours. You don't have to deal with all this. If you walk away, you'd be free.
That was a crucial rule Sakura had devised and vowed to follow: Do what was needed to survive, and nothing more. Leave people to care for themselves, as she had to. This was the easy way out.
But her heart — her real heart, hidden beneath that shell — was in the way, coercing her to do the opposite. You know you are her only hope. She loves this boy. Do you really want to deprive her of this love? She is young; she deserves to live her life the way she wants to. Think of what your family would want you to do.
It just had to bring up her family. Her weak point.
She had to choose. Go with her brain, which knew what was smart, or her heart, the master of all things moral?
"What can I possibly do?" she said at last, turning so her back was to the couch. "I'm not even sure how long I'll be staying here."
"We can schedule a time and new meeting place. I can easily sneak out if I have to. I don't want to beg, but it would mean so much to us if you help. I don't want to push you, either. It's your decision. Takashi and I can always try to do this ourselves."
Sakura screwed her eyes shut and took a steadying breath. She took another, after the first one failed. Then she sent a prayer to Kami before turning her body around, saying a quiet, "Okay."
Mihara had gone back to examining the floor, but her head snapped up when Sakura responded. "Okay? Okay you'll help us?"
"Yeah. I'll help. But," she said, remembering Eriol, "I need to do something for myself first. Then I'll help you with your plan. Sound good?"
Nodding so viciously that it was a wonder her head didn't fall off, Mihara gushed, "That's perfectly fine with me. Oh, I am so glad you said yes. I promise, I will repay you for this. I don't know how, but I will. Thank you so, so, so much." Then she flung her arms around Sakura's neck in a surprise, lung-crushing hug. The older girl didn't return it — nor could she breathe — but she didn't have the opportunity. Mihara pulled away, the intimate contact ending as soon as it began. Her eyes were vibrant with happy tears, and her face glowed with a newfound hope. She was positively radiant. Transformed.
"So, let me hear about this plan of yours," Sakura said, smiling a bit.
Mihara froze, and then grinned sheepishly. "Um, about that... I didn't exactly think it through yet. I'm still... you could say I'm still working on it."
"You mean you didn't finish."
"Well... no," she confessed. Sakura must have then made some sort of face because Mihara became alarmed and said very quickly, "But I'm positive it will work! I only came up with it today. I just need to work out a few kinks."
Sakura's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What sort of kinks?"
Mihara shrugged. "Nothing major. I want to make sure it's a foolproof plan, so I'm thinking up all the possible scenarios where I might get caught."
"Caught?" repeated Sakura, with a jolt. "Is what you're doing legal?"
"I..." Her brow crinkled, looking deep in thought. "I'm not sure. But will you go along with it anyway?"
"I — I guess I will. Why not, I have nothing to lose. But I can't guarantee that I'll be able to find a way to contact you after I leave."
"Will you be here long?"
Sakura didn't reply right away. "I might. I'm not sure. We'll work this all out somehow. For now, go tell your boyfriend the good news." She turned the girl in the general direction of Yamazaki.
"I will. Thank you for everything!" Mihara gave her another brief hug, which Sakura accepted this time, and then she left to console her depressed fiancé.
The instant she was out of earshot, Sakura groaned and let herself fall backward onto the couch.
"What did I just agree to?" she moaned into a pillow. Her temples throbbed.
Eriol, you idiot, she thought. You'd better wake up soon so I can get out of here. I don't like the vibes I'm getting about this place.
Just then, Mihara popped her head back into the room, with a request. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Call me Chiharu, okay?"
Sakura nodded once, opening her eyes halfway. "The same goes for me," she said in reply.
There was a pause, and Sakura wondered what else Chiharu wanted. "What is it?"
"You never told me your name."
"Sorry. It's Sakura."
"Sakura. Pretty name," she commented. "Well then, I'll be looking forward to working with you, Sakura-chan."
Tomoyo was trying to take off the bandages around Eriol's arm when Sakura just about stumbled into the room in her heels. The owner of that arm lay motionless.
"Hello," said Tomoyo, greeting Sakura with a warm smile. "How was your bath?"
She shrugged. "Good. How's Eriol?"
Her smile wavered. She cast Eriol a glance. "I don't know what's wrong with him, to tell you the truth. His temperature is normal"—she felt his forehead—"his breathing's regular"—her hand moved to his cheek—"and his heartbeat is fine." Her hand came to rest over his heart, where it stayed. "He seems to have only passed out."
"Oh." Sakura sighed, relieved. "I'm glad." She knew she should be worried because she didn't know why he passed out, but it was far less stressful to pretend he was okay.
"Anyway, thanks for the clothes. I love the dress," she added, which was somewhat a lie. She did love the dress; it was gorgeous. She just didn't like wearing it. And she still wished she had her cap. Still felt exposed.
Tomoyo beamed. "Thank you! I made it just before your arrival. Your old clothes are over there, all washed," she said, motioning at a corner of the room, to where Sakura's outfit was draped over her muddy-pink backpack. "That reminds me," she said, "you've met Syaoran, didn't you? I asked him to deliver the dress to you?"
Sakura nodded. How could she forget that humiliating scene?
As she tenderly pulled on the bandage, Tomoyo asked, "What do you think of him?"
Sakura's heartbeat quickened as she realized the petite girl had hit on one of the questions she wasn't keen on answering. "What do I think of him?" she said, keeping her voice casual. "Well... he's... very..." Dragging out her words, she stalled so she could rummage through her head for something to say. Something — anything — that was not insulting.
Her inner voice, nostalgically sounding like her big brother this time, spewed out a chain of words that expressed exactly what Sakura thought of Li. Self-absorbed, short-tempered, conceited, a total snob, unpleasant, unfeeling, robotic... it prattled on, not helping her situation at all. It was exactly what Touya himself would have said about Li.
Sakura furiously blocked the Touya-voice from her mind.
"He is... certainly a... clean person," she said, which was the most decent thing she could muster.
"Well, that is certainly true. Syaoran is very organized. But," Tomoyo said, casting Sakura a knowing look, "tell me what you really think of him."
Sakura was a little surprised at the girl's candor, and hesitated with her answer.
But gently: "There's nothing you can say that will surprise me. I have, after all, lived with Syaoran for as long as I can remember. You can be honest, Sakura-chan."
"If you really want to know..."
Tomoyo nodded encouragingly at her.
"He's the biggest jerk I have ever met," Sakura finished. She expected the other girl to defend her brother, or at least show a tiny amount of anger, but Tomoyo only laughed sweetly — not at all surprised or cross.
"A jerk, you say?" She chuckled again. "Well, I'll give you credit, Sakura-chan, for being honest. Most would have lied."
"You're not mad at me for saying that?"
"Why would I be? You're entitled to your own opinion, and I respect that. I would respect you less if you lied to me."
"Oh." She didn't want to think of what Tomoyo would do if she discovered just how much she had been lied to. "Then... what do you think of him?"
"Me?" Tomoyo continued to struggle with Eriol's arm. "He's my brother, of course, so I think of him in all sorts of ways. Generally speaking, I think he's a serious and hardworking person who is always focused on whatever he's doing. He is kind"—Sakura resisted the urge to snort—"and treats his employees well. Although, he can be stubborn at times, but I love him anyway. Oh, these bandages are tough to get off."
"Do you get to see him often? Yamazaki mentioned something about him having his own company...?"
"Right. Syaoran is the president of Li Corp., if you've ever heard of it. He has to attend lots of meetings and he's very busy, but he comes home every day. Though he may seem like it, he's not a workaholic at all."
Sakura believed her, but frowned anyway. "But he looks so young. How'd he get so successful at his age?"
"He didn't. He inherited the company. I was to inherit it — since my mother owned it first — when I become of age. In the meantime, Syaoran's mother took over. The thing is, I'm not interested in being a CEO. So the company went to Syaoran. It's kind of confusing if you think about it." She gave Sakura another smile, but it faded when she examined Eriol's injury. The bandages were finally off.
"Sakura-chan... Come here."
In an instant, Sakura was at her friend's side. "What's wrong?" she asked, scared for Eriol.
It's infected he's lost too much blood the cut is still bleeding because he has hemophilia the arm needs to be amputated dammit he's going to die it's all my fault if only we left that beach sooner—
But Tomoyo shook her head slowly. "Nothing's wrong, exactly. It's just..." She looked at Sakura with bewildered eyes. "The wound is healed. Completely."
"Healed?"
"See for yourself." She moved to make room for Sakura.
"You're right," Sakura murmured, after touching the smooth skin of Eriol's arm. A close-to-invisible scar was the only indication that he'd been hurt at all. Then she peered at the old bandages, stained with his blood. A whole lot of blood. If the wound had bled that much, it couldn't have healed in a day's time.
"This isn't possible," Tomoyo said softly, confirming what Sakura had been thinking. "I think it would be best if we take him to a hospital, just to make sure there's noth—"
"No!" blurted Sakura, and Tomoyo looked at her strangely.
"Why not?" she asked.
Because we've both run away from home, and the doctors would probably want to call our parents. "Because the cut wasn't as serious as we had thought," replied Sakura evenly.
"Are you sure, Sakura-chan? It looked pretty serious when I treated it."
"Positive." She tried to sound certain of what she was saying. "It was dark last night. The lack of light probably made things look worse than they really were."
Tomoyo's eyes still held a bit of worry, but she seemed to accept Sakura's explanation. "I won't need this, then," she said, holding up a roll of bandages, then stowed it into her messenger bag.
"Do you want to spend the night here, in case Hiiragizawa-kun wakes up? We have lots of space — or you could stay with me in my room, if you're not comfortable alone."
Sakura started. "Stay? Here?"
"Sure, I'd enjoy the company. Would you like to?"
No, no, no, no, no. Sakura could feel the panic rekindling, but she closed her eyes and pushed it away. She felt silly to be so afraid of staying inside a building, though she knew her fear was appropriate. She told Tomoyo, "I would love to stay, but I... have another dog to take care of. At home."
"I understand." If she suspected Sakura of lying, she masked it well. "At least let me arrange a ride for you. It's still raining out."
Sakura denied the proposal, for obvious reasons. "Besides, the rain is lightening up," she remarked weakly, motioning out the window at the storm, strong as ever.
"Watch over Eriol and Suppi-chan for me." And it wasn't until she said that did she realize that the black dog wasn't in the room. "Where is Suppi-chan?"
"Hiding from Kero-chan. They're running around somewhere."
"Oh. Try to keep them from killing each other, okay?"
"I'll take good care of them," Tomoyo promised, and Sakura somehow knew she really meant it. "Have a safe trip home, Sakura-chan. If Syaoran asks, I was never in this room. And here"—she stood and took a pink flower from the vase nearby—"have a peony." She went up to Sakura and tucked it into her hair.
After she stepped back and had a good look at Sakura, Tomoyo seemed greatly distraught all of a sudden. "Oh, no!" she cried. "Please tell me I didn't...!" She sharply turned around and seized her messenger bag, ransacking through it.
"What? What is it?" Fearing the worst, Sakura was ready to flee the room, certain that she had been recognized at last.
But Tomoyo emerged from her bag empty-handed, no cell phone to call the police. She laid her hand on her cheek delicately, looking upset. "You look so pretty in that dress, and I don't have my camera with me!" she said sadly.
Sakura was deeply relieved to be out of the room and away from Tomoyo's far-too-wise eyes. It could be her paranoia acting up, but she swore the girl knew something. She would have to be more careful from now on.
The manor was so vast that at first Sakura thought she'd have trouble finding the way out. But she easily spotted the main staircase, and once she reached the ground floor, she recognized the dining room directly ahead. She saw Yamazaki the same time he saw her, and before she could escape, he waved her in, looking so much more like himself. His ever-present smile was, well, present. Chiharu sat next to him leisurely sipping her tea, as if nothing in the world could bother her.
"You look better," Sakura said to Yamazaki.
He grinned. "All thanks to you," he replied. "I just knew, from the moment I saw you, that you're a good person."
"I didn't do anything yet," she reminded him.
He shrugged. "You said you would, and that's enough for us. Even though," he said, looking at Chiharu pointedly, "she wouldn't tell me what she's planning to do."
She smirked at him, taunting. "Can't tell you yet. It's a surprise."
He sighed, but he reached over and took her hand.
In that single action, Sakura saw just how truly he cared for his girlfriend. Sure, couples held hands all the time. But he held her hand with such tenderness that no one could question the love he had for her. And, by the way she smiled up at him, squeezing his hand back, Chiharu definitely reciprocated his love.
Their unconcealed love made Sakura feel awfully uneasy, but also very determined. There was no way she could back out of her agreement now, no matter how much she wanted to. She decided then that she'd do whatever it would take to give this couple a happy ending.
Thankfully they remembered they were no longer alone, and acknowledged Sakura's presence again. "Anyway, where are you headed off to?" Yamazaki asked. His hair lay fluffy and loose on his head, she noticed. The rain must have washed out the gel.
"Home," she said.
His face showed surprise and disappointment. "Aw, already? What about your brother, is he okay?"
"He's fine, resting upstairs where you left him. I'm picking him up tomorrow." She bit her lip at the thought of leaving her closest friend alone in a foreign place. She didn't even know what city she was in.
"Takashi-kun can drive you home," Chiharu offered. "It's the least we can do for you."
Sakura turned away, not wanting a repeat of the conversation she had with Tomoyo. "Thanks, but it's okay, I'll walk. I want the two of you to enjoy your time here." She made herself smile at the pair.
They smiled back. "You're so considerate, Kinomoto-san," said Yamazaki, staring at her with much respect. Respect that she didn't feel she deserved.
Fidgeting with her fingers, she said, "Well... I guess I'm going now. I'll see you two later."
"Later, Sakura-chan," said Chiharu.
Not knowing what else to do, Sakura stupidly gave a wave goodbye, and she moved out of the room. But before she got too far away, she heard Yamazaki calling her back.
"Yes?" she said, trying to sound irritated. Oddly, though, she wasn't. Irritated, that is.
He didn't catch her faux-impatience. "Can you do something for me before you go?" he asked, but Chiharu slapped his arm.
"Idiot, can't you tell she wants to leave?" she scolded. "Get off your lazy butt and do it yourself."
Yamazaki looked somewhat guilty, so Sakura jumped in to save him from his girlfriend, who had already begun acting like his wife.
"No, it's okay," she told them, deciding that doing one more favor wouldn't hurt. "What do you need?"
He glanced at Chiharu, but she only sighed and leaned into her seat, his invitation to continue. He pushed forward a box the size of a softball, with a blue bow on top of it. "Can you give this to Daidouji-san? And tell her, 'Happy White Day'?"
"Sure." Sakura took the gift. "Is it White Day already?" she wondered out loud.
"It was yesterday, actually. I, uh, forgot that she'd given me a Valentine's Day present," he said, his face reddening, "until Chiharu-chan reminded me."
"Ah," said Sakura in understanding. She gave the box a shake. "What's in here?"
"It's a new case for her camcorder. Her old one got torn. Really badly."
"Takashi-kun was the one who ripped it," Chiharu added, probably for the sole purpose of seeing her boyfriend blush again, which he didn't fail to do.
Sakura looked at her. "What did he get you?" she asked Chiharu.
Chiharu suddenly looked pained, though she tried to hide it. And when she answered, Sakura knew why.
"A glass heart. He made it for me at a glassblowing class."
That must have been the same heart Sakura had seen her holding earlier, shattered from the shock of her father's cruel announcement. "Oh. That was nice of him," she said as she swore silently. Could she ever say anything to Chiharu without triggering her unpleasant memories?
Just then, her mind registered the date and the importance of it, and the gasp came out before she could stifle it.
"Something the matter?" Chiharu asked, with an inquisitive tilt of her head.
"Um, no, nothing," said Sakura, and she felt her cheeks getting warm. "I just... forgot yesterday was White Day, too."
Without warning, Yamazaki leaped up from his seat and leaned across the table. "You know, speaking of White Day," he piped, with one finger held up, "the idea for the holiday was actually taken from the Scandinavians. Japan wasn't the first to celebrate it."
"Huh?" Sakura blinked. "Really?"
He gave an enthusiastic nod. "Six hundred years ago, Scandinavia began—"
He was cut off when Chiharu clamped her hand over his mouth and pulled him back into his seat. "Sakura-chan, go," she said firmly. "We'll see you tomorrow."
Sakura blinked. "Well... I'll make sure Tomoyo gets this, then," she said, unsure of what had happened. "Um... bye." She clutched the box to her chest, feeling like laughing at her stupidity.
Because she had just learned the cause of her bizarre behavior.
It was the fifteenth of March, the day after White Day. If she remembered correctly, that date meant that she had approximately one more week, until it would be that time she so dreaded. That time of the month.
Those unexpected moments of exhaustion, snapping at Chiharu, her swaying moods, the frequent blushing — it wasn't the fault of the domestic environment, after all. Everything had been caused by that damned feminine cycle the female species had to endure every four weeks or so.
In short, Sakura had been PMSing all day.
She couldn't decide whether to groan or be relieved. This realization meant that she'd have to deal with the complications that cycle brought, which she'd rather not do with all that had happened recently. She remembered that Eriol was always wary around her when this time arrived, because of how unstable she became. On the other hand, she didn't feel the urgent need to leave the building anymore, now that she knew it was, at the moment, safe to stay. But she couldn't just turn back and declare to everyone that she changed her mind. Could she? She still had to bring Yamazaki's present to Tomoyo. She looked toward the exit, then back to the stairs.
She was still debating when she saw him.
She lost all sense of direction the moment she caught sight of Li coming down from the second floor, looking very businesslike as he shuffled through some papers, despite the random towel draped over his shoulder. It was as if everything else had fallen away — she could only see Li as he strolled down those stairs with that superiority of his she despised. She was startled by how strongly she disliked him.
Sensing her company, he glimpsed up and they locked gazes, if only for a moment. Sakura immediately stared straight ahead and away from those probing amber eyes, set on not saying a peep to him. Her heart pounded against her ribs. She didn't even care which way she was headed, just as long as she could pass by him without having to extend her claws. Saying hello would be the polite thing to do, but Li didn't really come off as the type to exchange petty greetings. And Sakura didn't really want to talk to him. So she kept her mouth shut and focused on keeping her balance, holding her head high.
She would have succeeded... if Li had kept his mouth shut.
"Searching for more of my sister's things to take, are you?" he said, just as they crossed paths.
He lit the fuse. And Sakura was the dynamite. Clenching her teeth, she told herself to ignore him and walk away. But her body didn't listen. She angrily turned to him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to stop. If he were a bit shorter they'd be standing face-to-face, since the heels Sakura wore added several inches to her height. He wasn't quite as tall as Eriol, who was already brushing six feet.
"I am not a thief!" she fumed. "Why can't you get that through your thick head?" She tightened her hold on him until it was nearly vise-like, hoping it would be enough to cut off his circulation.
To her displeasure, Li didn't even flinch, much less lose consciousness. His eyes dropped to where her hand invaded his person, then to the peony in her hair, and went back to glaring into her eyes. For a moment, she thought he'd yank himself free and leave without saying anything, but he didn't move.
"That's not what the scene at the park told me," he said, speaking in that flat tone she hated, hated so much.
Sakura couldn't keep herself from rolling her eyes. "Will you give that up? I wasn't going to take the wristband," she said, though she knew it was a lie as the words came out of her mouth. Li knew it too.
"Of course you weren't. And where, exactly, are you planning to go with those clothes?"
She dug her fingernails into his arm. Without anything to trim them, she had to bite her nails whenever they grew long, leaving them jagged and uneven. "I," she growled, "am planning to go home with these clothes, as I do not plan on walking in the rain naked. And I will return"—she made sure to give that word plenty of emphasis—"tomorrow with these clothes so I can give them back to your sister, and do you know why I'm going to do this? Because I — am — not — a — thief!"
His accusations hurt her, and she couldn't figure out why. She had trained herself to not be affected by people's opinions. She was, as he'd stated, a thief. And that was a fact. At least, she had been one, in the past. But once Eriol came into the picture, stealing was no longer required, so she stopped. She tried to not think about them much, her previous methods of surviving. Remorse was not a friend.
Her tired fingers had loosened against his arm. Noting this, Li pulled back. Something Sakura was sure was revulsion shuddered through her body as his hand accidentally brushed past hers. Li's hand felt smooth in contrast to hers, which were rough from swinging up trees and doing everything manually. Without the luxury of maids doing everything for her.
Standing as close as they dared, they glared at each other, green into amber. Li spoke first.
"Just know this. You bother Tomoyo in any way, take anything of hers, think about taking anything of hers, and you will not be allowed back in here, under any circumstances. Get it?"
Sakura almost laughed into his face. So that was what this was all about: a case of over-protectiveness. She hadn't expected such from Li. "Don't you worry. I wouldn't dream of hurting her," she said. That was the most truthful thing she said to him so far.
Sakura spun around and marched out through the doors with as much dignity as she could gather. Behind her, she could hear Li walking away, not sparing her a second thought.
The storm, if anything, had gotten worse. Rain fell heavily enough to mar her vision, stung every inch of her body like ice-cold needles. If that weren't enough, the ruthless, brutal gales contributed to Sakura's misery. She was soaked to the bone in seconds. She needed to find a shelter, and quickly. Shielding her eyes with her hands, she looked up briefly to locate the main gates: straight ahead. She took a breath and broke into a run toward the exit.
Then, she was reminded that her footwear wasn't suitable for running when she slipped, her feet flying out beneath her.
Luck was on her side, as she had landed in the grass; the concrete would have definitely shredded Tomoyo's dress. She vaguely felt something slip out of her hands and roll a short distance away.
She wanted to just lay there. Her face had numbed from the continuous rain; it didn't bother her anymore. It felt good, even, to give in to the rhythmic beat of raindrops striking the ground, striking her bare skin. She was so sick of falling, of tripping, being helpless. It was a comfort to surrender. She only wanted to sleep, and she didn't feel like finding a roof to crawl under, away from the wetness. Just a nap, then she'd be all better, all prepared to face what tomorrow would bring. The last thing her eyes focused on before closing was a box lying by her feet.
A small box...
With a blue bow...
That I had been holding...
That was all it took to get Sakura up again, snapping out of her fatigue.
...Tomoyo's present!
She scrambled over to the box and snatched it up. Closer inspection showed that a thin layer of plastic covered the box, protected it from the rain. Good, the gift was intact. She hugged it close.
In her haste to escape Li's haughty presence, she had pushed Tomoyo's gift completely out of her mind. She could just wait until she came back the next day to deliver it. But what if Yamazaki mentioned the gift to Li? Li would ask Tomoyo, who in reply would say she never received said gift. Li must have seen Sakura with the box as she was leaving. It wouldn't take long before he came to a conclusion. Without meaning to, Sakura had given him a valid reason to call her a thief. And she could not let that happen, not after her reaction to his accusation earlier. He might not permit her back into his home. The gift had to make it to Tomoyo. Somehow.
She picked herself up, slightly swaying from the weight of her rain-soaked clothing, and trudged back to the building. Halfway there, she stopped short in her tracks, noticed the condition she was in. She must have looked as though someone had dumped a bucket of water over her head. She was a fright. The dress she was wearing had turned almost translucent, plastered to her body like a second skin. She couldn't risk having Li see her in such a state of indecency, if he answered the door.
She would just have to sneak in, then.
Her plan was this: find a window, climb through, seek out the nearest maid, and ask her to pass on the gift to Tomoyo. Nothing could go wrong with a plan so simple. Sakura would just have to trust the maids to keep quiet about her sneaking in. She didn't want to use that other term — breaking and entering. There wasn't anything illegal about what she intended to do.
Luckily, the windows were low to the ground. Sakura moved to one she was closest to. The curtains were drawn, and she couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing, if it was locked or not. Nonetheless, she went on with the plan, sticking the box inside her dress. She placed her palms on the glass and applied pressure, pushing upwards. It was slick and her hands kept sliding off. Then she felt the window give way the tiniest bit. Encouraged, she pushed harder. It moved more, and Sakura kept at it until she could slip her fingers underneath. She yanked it up, brushed aside the curtains, and stuck one leg inside.
This room was even more massive than the one Eriol was in... and not like one she should be intruding. It definitely looked like some sort of master bedroom, with the carpet, dark walls, and king-sized bed. It was unmade, a definite sign that someone had recently been in this room. But her leg was already dripping water onto the floor. Might as well go on.
A noise stopped her cold, the sound of someone approaching the room. Then that someone touching the doorknob. Turning it. Opening the door. About to find Sakura, half of her in the room.
She tried to pull her leg back out. Too quickly. She felt herself lose her balance on the leg remaining outside — felt herself falling backwards onto the concrete, unable to silence her cry.
"Who's there?" demanded the person, and Sakura wanted to scream at her luck. It was Li's voice, and Li's room she had chosen to break in. She got on all fours and scrambled to the side of the building, faster than she ever thought herself capable of moving when on her knees. She sat still, listening hard, heart beating equally hard. Inside, Li was talking to someone else. She couldn't make out the words or the second voice. A door closed, and then it was quiet.
Sakura stayed in her spot a minute more, just to be sure it was okay to leave. She removed the box from her dress. It would have to be returned the next day. She'd learned her lesson — no more sneaking in.
She moved slowly, feeling that if she moved too hastily somebody would see her. She was wishing the rain camouflaged her.
She tensed as she felt a light tap on the shoulder. A voice, male and elderly, accompanied the tap.
"Excuse me, Miss," he said.
Facing the person, she saw his identity — Wei. The old butler held an umbrella above his head. She relaxed, knowing it wasn't Li, but not completely. Wei and Li seemed awfully close.
"Yes, sir?" she said, going with a polite approach.
"Were you the one at Syaoran-sama's window?"
Sakura nodded slowly. She knew she should get used to the bluntness of the tenants of the mansion. "I... I was." Like she could deny it.
"Are you one of his... admirers?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Admirers?" Somehow she knew that wasn't the word Wei was searching for.
Clearing his throat, he said, "You are not the first to try to climb in through Syaoran-sama's window, Miss. There have been many before you. All were admirers."
Sakura found this amusing, but Wei's face was solemn. "No, I can't say I'm an 'admirer.'"
"Then, why you were trying to enter his room?" Wei spoke with the endless patience of someone with much wisdom.
This struck her as a chance to have the gift delivered at last. She held out the box to the elderly man. "I was trying to get this to Tomoyo. I'd forgotten to give it to her. Can you do it for me? I don't want to get the floor wet."
He took it from her. "Of course, Miss. Should I tell Syaoran-sama this was your intention?"
"Yes," answered Sakura right away. "Please stress it. That I only wanted to give something to his sister. And that I'm not an admirer. Will you do that?"
"I will. Whom should I say this message is from?"
She started to give Eriol's last name but stopped. "Sakura. Just Sakura."
"Yes, Sakura-san. I'll be sure to tell him. Until next time." Wei bowed at her. He started back to the mansion with Tomoyo's present. She stared after him until he made it inside.
Sakura heaved a great sigh. At long last, her mission was completed. Now she could leave this place and get away from the horrible storm, which was mercifully subsiding.
And again, just after she exited through the gates, her attention was drawn back to the mansion. This time, it was Kero. And he brought some things with him. He skidded to a stop at her feet and barked.
"What... what is this?" She bent down, untying the things Kero carried on his back. An umbrella and a roll of bandages. She looked at the puppy. "Did Wei send you out here?" she asked him.
Kero barked again. Sakura couldn't tell what that was supposed to mean, if it meant anything.
"Well, tell Wei thanks. I owe him for this. See you later." She waved goodbye to the pup.
Surprisingly, Kero understood her and went back to where he came. Sakura continued her walking, and this time she wasn't pelted by raindrops. She held on tightly to the bandages.
This town, whatever it was, didn't have many alleys; it took ten minutes until she found one, and it was very narrow, just wide enough to fit the umbrella in. Sakura camped under her umbrella roof as she wrapped the bandages around her knees, bloody from crawling on the ground.
After that, she promptly fell asleep, her PMS getting the better of her.
Syaoran lingered at his window after he sent Wei out to investigate, quietly watching the scene between the old butler and the girl in the green dress. He saw them exchange words, then she handed Wei a box that had a bow adorning the top, probably a gift for someone. It certainly didn't seem like she stole it. Why else would she return it?
He didn't entirely believe his own words, when he called her a thief. Back at the park, he'd been in a rush, late for an important business meeting. He would have snapped at anyone in his way. Besides that, he didn't think that he'd ever run into her again. And yet, there she stood, just several meters from his window.
There was something unusual about that girl, even if she weren't a criminal, something that bothered him. The way that dress clung to her body emphasized how skinny she was. He knew about girls her age, the image-obsessed ones — and he was grateful Tomoyo wasn't like them. They liked to starve themselves until they were skeletal thin, on the brink of death. But somehow he knew that wasn't why she looked like she did. She wasn't bony, just really thin — no muscle, subtle curves. He pushed back his sleeve, saw the bruises she left. By the way she squeezed his arm, she was stronger than her body suggested, which meant she ate on a regular basis. A vegetarian, maybe? One of those health nuts?
He kept his eyes on the girl as Wei talked to her, and caught notice of other things. Like how she struggled to stand upright with those too small, too high heels. How she was completely drenched, her face shining with rainwater. Her hair hung in her face in wet, stringy clumps. Her knees were scraped and bloody.
Before he could change his mind, he left the window and opened his bedroom door. Perfect timing. A maid was walking by, idling.
"Hey," Syaoran called out. He didn't know her name. She was one of the younger, more timid ones.
For some reason, she made a strangled sound and her eyes bugged out when she saw him. When he followed her eyes to see what she was staring at, he discovered his mistake. The only thing he had on was a towel — that had slipped down a tad too low around his hips — from his brief shower. The maid ogled, frozen in her spot.
Syaoran wasn't stupid. He knew what the maids who worked for him thought of him, since they didn't bother to hide their stares. Or whispers. Or giggles. The girls from Tomoyo's high school did the same when he sometimes drove her home. It made things easier to ignore the attention, and he rarely noticed it anymore. He wanted no business with those girls. He didn't understand why they acted like that, but he did eventually learn that it was never a good idea to have his shirt off. It was almost a relief to be despised, like that Sakura character clearly did.
Ignoring the staring, he ordered, "Get me one of the dogs. Quickly."
The maid broke out of her trance. "Of course, Li-sama. Right away," she stammered. A deep blush colored her cheeks as she hustled through the dining room and into the kitchen.
Syaoran went back into his room and wisely threw on some clothes.
A instant later, the maid returned with a wriggling puppy. She looked both disappointed and thankful to see that Syaoran wasn't half naked anymore. "Kero-chan was the first one I found, Li-sama," she said, setting the puppy on the ground.
Syaoran eyed the teeny yellow creature cynically, which eyed him back. "It's too small," he decided. "But it will have to do. You're dismissed," he said to the maid. His words had come out harsher than intended, and she left in such a rush that she neglected her customary curtsy. It wasn't like he cared much for formalities, anyway.
He turned to the puppy, which the maid had called Kero-chan. He recognized this one, the runt of the new litter. After all, Tomoyo did ask him to name it. She must have not liked the name he'd chosen — Kerberos — and shortened it to Kero. Syaoran just hoped it was trained to obey orders.
With the pup watching, he pulled open the window he'd been looking out of. A small umbrella lay at the foot of his bed. He picked that up, went to the bathroom to get a roll of bandages, found some thin rope in the drawer of his bedside table, and strapped the items to the pup. Kerberos was so tiny that, at an aerial view, he almost disappeared under the umbrella, and yet he carried it without any effort.
"I want you," said Syaoran, semi-self-conscious to be speaking to a puppy, "to run outside"—he pointed out the window—"and go directly to that girl over there. Understand?"
For a moment, Kerberos only stared at Syaoran with big puppy eyes, giving the impression that he understood none of Syaoran's instructions. But then he stood up on his stumpy legs and darted out into the rain.
The girl had finished her conversation with Wei and had gone beyond the gates. Kerberos sprinted after her, squeezing through the gates as they closed behind him. Satisfied, Syaoran turned from the window.
He switched into more comfortable clothing and dropped onto his bed. What a day. First his car had broken down, so he had to carpool with Yamazaki. Yamazaki was his best friend, but Syaoran had to admit that it was difficult to spend an hour with the guy — and in a cramped space, no less — without getting a migraine. Later, at the business meeting, a worker who had some very important files with him couldn't make it because his wife had gone into labor. And now, this strange girl. He'd have to watch her more carefully the next time she came over, maybe find out more about her. For now, he put his arms behind his head and allowed himself some time to rest, listening to Kerberos's indignant barks to be let back in.
A/N: About this fic, I've been thinking long and hard about it. No, not just this fic, but writing on altogether. I've been thinking about quitting. The reason: I feel that I'm letting my readers down with my rare updates. I write SO SLOWLY, and I hate knowing that I'm making anyone wait. I've dreamed about becoming an author for years, about being published, but at the rate I'm going, I doubt that's going to happen. I love this fic, I really do, and I have so many ideas for future chapters. But I don't know if I should continue it if I can't write fast enough. I write because I like it when I make people happy with my words, which I can't do if I don't update.
What do you think? Should I give up on writing for this site? I can always try to write faster, if people are willing to wait. Please leave a review/PM for me commenting on the fic or replying to my question. I'd really appreciate it, especially if you're a new reader.
Until next time,
- Mimi