A Shelter for Broken Hearts
Summary: Sometimes the brokenhearted take comfort in each other—and love has a way of blossoming from friendship.
Disclaimer: I don't own the CCS characters but this plot is mine.
absolutefluffiness says: Whew, update is on time and it is LONG. Sorry about that, I'll try to make next week's update a bit shorter…unless you like long chapters? Do let me know, thank you! Notes and thanks at the end ^_^
Chapter 2: Moving Along
"He's like another Touya," Sakura giggled over lunch with her best friend Tomoyo.
"Oh? And here I was worried that you were replacing me," Tomoyo teased.
"Please. Syaoran-kun does not have your fashion sense," Sakura laughed.
"Nobody does," Tomoyo said serenely, hiding a smile. She called him "Syaoran-kun" now, and it amused her. "But really now, Sakura-chan, you're both single. Why don't you…"
"Ack! Stop right there, Tomoyo-chan. You are not going to try and set me up again."
"But I haven't set you up yet," Tomoyo pointed out.
"Uh, okay. But you know what I mean. Besides, it would be like dating Touya," Sakura said.
"Heaven forfend. Have they met?"
"No, but they will, this weekend. I invited Syaoran over to have dinner with Dad and onii-chan this Sunday."
Tomoyo almost choked on her strawberry sherbet. "No…Goodness, I can almost imagine the fireworks now!"
"Syaoran is not dating me. He'll be fine," Sakura said confidently.
"So you say now," Tomoyo's eyes twinkled. She tapped out a message on her iPhone.
"You did not," Sakura's eyes widened, "just text Eriol-san, did you?"
"And if I did?"
"Even Syaoran-kun will tell you there's nothing going on! As for you and Eriol-san, I think…"
Tomoyo laughed. "He's my client. I…" She stopped. "Oh, nothing." She waved a hand cheerily in Sakura's direction, and said, "We are quite definitely not involved."
Sakura knew why. Tomoyo was seeing someone she did not want Sakura to know about. Though she could be dense and occasionally oblivious, Sakura thought she already knew who Tomoyo was seeing.
Her brother, Touya.
She loved both her best friend and cousin, and her brother, too much to let them know that she knew. Once, she had arrived home and seen the two kissing passionately; that was back in college. Sakura knew Touya lived with Yukito Tsukishiro, his lover, whom she had herself loved as a child. But this…her heart ached to see the tenderness, the love in how they held, touched, and kissed each other.
Because she longed to be loved that way. Sakura's past experiences with men had not been good, and since her last two boyfriends—Kito in high school and Emile in college—she had not had any luck in love. Friends like Chiharu Mihara-Yamazaki, Naoko Yanisagawa, and Rika Sasaki would occasionally set her up, but there would either be no spark, or she did not like the men involved.
But Tomoyo and Touya were passionate lovers; she could tell from how they carried themselves that they were madly in love. And Sakura wondered what it was like to be kissed that way, to be made love to that way, to just be that way with a man who loved her as much as she loved him.
That Tomoyo and Touya felt the need to hide their affair was something Sakura understood. While she did not want to take sides, she did not want to have to hurt anyone on purpose, and so she kept silent. Neither of them knew that she knew, and she kept the secret…just as she kept some other secrets in her life, secrets she could not discuss with Tomoyo or Syaoran.
So she looked at Tomoyo and smiled what Tomoyo called "Sakura's keeping-secrets smile."
"It's all right. I'm sure you'll find out exactly what Touya thinks of Syaoran," she said impishly.
"My spying secrets are my own," Tomoyo grinned. "Good luck this weekend, then. No, I think the person who needs that good-luck wish...is Li-kun."
That Sunday, Syaoran arrived at the Kinomoto household early, clutching a bouquet of flowers and dressed in a rather warm long-sleeved shirt and a tie. He looked handsome—but overdressed for the occasion.
Sakura goggled at them. "What are those for?"
"Erm," Syaoran almost blushed, "Aren't you supposed to bring this when you're invited to dinner?"
"Uh…Didn't you say you've been living in Japan for ten years or so now?" Sakura asked. "So you ought to know the etiquette."
"Y-yes, but," Syaoran fidgeted, "I…uh, thought this was appropriate."
"You're uncomfortable," Sakura pointed out. "Oh sheesh, Syaoran-kun, let me." He now allowed her to call him by name, though he often just called her "Hey" or "Hey you" instead of Sakura. It annoyed her, and he liked teasing her with it—though right now he stayed quiet. She rolled up his sleeves for him and yanked off his tie. "There. Better."
"Won't an informal outfit insult the family?"
"Syaoran Li, unless you came here to win my hand in marriage…" Sakura put her arms on her hips. "What is the problem? No," she held up a hand, "I think I got it. You didn't get out much in the past, huh?"
Oh snap, Syaoran thought. She was right. He said nothing.
"Ah-ha," Sakura grinned. "I knew it. Oh come on in. I want my friends to know my family—and I expect to meet your family someday as well. Or else!"
Syaoran grumbled something she didn't catch, then followed her into the kitchen. She shooed him out and dumped him in the living room with the remote for the TV.
"And stay out of my kitchen…you're the guest!" she said.
He sat there, aimlessly surfing, when he noticed a dark-haired older man watching him. Syaoran stood up, bowing stiffly and saying, "Good evening…"
"Well, you're handsome, but Sakura says you're Chinese," the man said rudely instead of acknowledging his greeting.
"What?" Syaoran felt he didn't like the man; his temper bristled at the very sight of him.
"I must say, her taste is improving," the stranger continued.
"Who are you?" Syaoran asked, rather rudely himself.
"Onii-chan!" Sakura scolded. "This is my friend, Syaoran Li. He's a composer. Syaoran, this is my mean older brother, Touya."
"Nice to meet you," Syaoran said, and added under his breath, "I think." He earned himself a slap on the arm from Sakura.
"Ow!" he protested.
"Be nice," she scolded. "You too, onii-chan."
"You're asking me to be nice to a rich brat?" He raised one dark brow.
"I am not a brat!" Syaoran retorted.
"Onii-chan!"
"Brat's a brat. Only rich brats can afford to bum around and be composers and stuff like that." Touya shrugged.
"He happens to be Eriol Hiiragizawa's writing partner," Sakura huffed.
Touya looked surprised. "That friend of Tomoyo's?"
Sakura almost smiled at the slipup; Touya had called Tomoyo by her first name. "Yes, the singer."
"Oh, all right then." Touya eyed Syaoran balefully. "I still don't like him."
Syaoran rolled his eyes.
"Now quit it!" Sakura was beginning to turn red from annoyance. "I just…"
"Sakura," Syaoran said quietly, "I smell something from the kitchen."
"Hoe!" Sakura dashed back into it, with a parting shot of "Now you two be nice!"
Touya resumed looking at Syaoran, who glared back.
"Impudent pup," Touya growled.
Syaoran bit his tongue to keep from saying what he really wanted.
"Oh, I get it. You're hanging on to your temper because she asked you to. Good boy. Maybe I'll let you date her."
"I am not…You…Hey!" Syaoran spluttered. "We are not that way!"
Touya raised a brow. "Are you gay?"
"No!" Syaoran almost yelled.
"Then why aren't you going after my sister? She's very pretty. Isn't she good enough for you?"
"What the hell?" Syaoran frowned. "Why does it always have to be about that kind of thing? Huh?"
"Men and women can't just be friends, I believe that," Touya said.
"Believe what you will," Syaoran said huffily, "but we're friends."
"You'll change your mind," Touya grinned, "and I'm going to laugh at you when you do."
"Whatever," Syaoran seethed.
Sakura called them to the dinner table then; Sakura and Touya's father Fujitaka was already there, and when Syaoran realized who he was, he turned into a fanboy; Sakura was vastly amused to discover he had bought all of Fujitaka's archaeology books. Their spirited discussions of expeditions and history made Touya roll his eyes and Sakura giggle. So involved were the two in their discussions that Sakura had to pointedly remind Syaoran to eat, and later, when the conversation continued in the den over tea, Touya had made a snide comment about "people who monopolize other people's fathers."
Undaunted, Syaoran asked for, and got, Fujitaka's email address, beginning a regular correspondence that amused Sakura no end. He and Sakura's father became friends, and in the discussions of archaeology and history, Syaoran found a way to forget the pain of his own past. He and Sakura drew even closer together, and soon, they were at the point of confessions and personal revelations.
One evening, at the home Syaoran and his ex-wife had shared, they were having drinks—tequila for him, Bailey's for her. Somehow Syaoran found himself arguing with her over his need for a cigarette, something Sakura firmly refused to give in on.
"Would your ex-wife have been amused, Syaoran-kun?" she argued.
"Yeah, well, we won't know now, will we?" Sourly Syaoran turned his back on her and poured himself a shot which he quickly downed. Then he poured himself another, despite already having had four earlier. Might as well get plastered, he thought.
The shot glass was taken from him. "Hey!" he protested.
"Getting drunk won't help," Sakura said gently. "Why don't you just talk about it?"
Syaoran would never know why he opened up that night, but he did. He told Sakura about Loraina, whom he called Alia in private. He was still in love with her, and Sakura could tell: photos of the beautiful woman were everywhere in the house.
"She seems like a nice person," she began hesitantly.
He laughed bitterly. "She was."
"So how did you meet?" Sakura asked.
Slowly, Syaoran told her the story, with pauses to swig his drink.
He'd met Loraina quite by accident; they'd both reached for the last bottle of the same brand of expensive Italian tomato sauce at a Tokyo organic gourmet grocery. She said, "You have good taste," then handed it to him, smiling before moving on to the next aisle.
Syaoran stared after her. He had been flirted with in the past, and he'd never responded; Eriol had gotten to teasing him about being gay as a result. But this woman...she...something about her violet eyes snared Syaoran as he'd never been taken with a woman before.
If he cared to acknowledge him, he was helpless with sexual chemistry because he had not really connected with women in the past. Loraina was gorgeous—but that wasn't what attracted him; Syaoran had had beautiful women fling themselves at him before, which was why he wouldn't hear of it when Eriol wanted to sing with him in public.
But this woman—she was warm, and she was sweet. Syaoran longed to find out who she was, and why she was the way she was. So he'd done something that had floored Eriol when Eriol found out about it; he followed the beautiful violet-eyed blonde.
"Hi," he said when he got her attention, and to his shame, his cheeks went pink.
"Hi," she smiled. Normally she didn't like being hit on by strangers but this handsome amber-eyed man was blushing like a boy, and it made her feel sweet on him.
"Uh...My name's Syaoran. I know this sounds weird but I...will you go out with me? I promise I'm not some freaky pervert or dirty old man..."
She laughed, a soft, tinkling sound that thrilled Syaoran. "You're too young to be a dirty old man, you know. And too good-looking to be a pervert."
"Um...heh heh," Syaoran looked down, scuffling his shoes. "I...I'm stammering and I'm babbling. Sorry. I just—will you have dinner with me? Tomorrow? A...at the Tokyo Tenement?" he said, naming a delicious, expensive sushi bar and fusion cuisine cafe. "All on me."
"You could ask me my name first," she chided gently.
"Oh, uh, yeah." Syaoran grinned nervously. "You are?"
"I'm Loraina," she said, but Syaoran was fixed on her delicate lips, fighting an insane impulse to kiss her then and there.
"Ah. Alia," he said, mishearing her name because he wasn't paying attention. "What a beautiful name for such a beautiful woman," he said, then turned red upon realizing how pathetic he sounded.
Again, she laughed. "Loraina, not Alia," she corrected him. "But I like the sound of Alia."
"M...may I call you that?" Syaoran asked shyly. He couldn't keep his eyes off her delicate face, her thick lashes, her tall, slender figure, the lips he wanted to kiss so badly.
Riveted by the shy, handsome stranger, Loraina looked into his beautiful amber eyes and said yes.
"I..." Syaoran smiled. "Can I get your number? And where you live?"
Syaoran called that very evening; it was almost dawn when they hung up the phone. It felt like love at first sight; they had talked about the things they liked, the things they believed in. Syaoran had never truly connected with a woman before, and this chemistry with Alia overwhelmed him completely.
When Syaoran picked Loraina—no Alia, he thought—up, she was in a plain shirt and jeans. But she took his breath away; the simple outfit served as a backdrop to her ethereal beauty.
Loraina took one look at Syaoran in his short-sleeved green polo shirt and jeans, and decided she wanted to date him. He was smart, funny, shy, sweet—he was a dream man. When he took her hand to help her into his car, they both started; their hands tingled at the contact. They had spent dinner quietly talking, with several pauses to look into each other's eyes, and it was only when the waiters pointedly stood at their table to close down the cafe that they finally left.
In the car, as he took her home, Syaoran could not speak. Alia was affecting him so badly, he wanted to find out why. He didn't know she suffered the same way; she couldn't keep her eyes off his high-cheekboned face, his sensuous lips, his lean body.
"Would you like coffee?" Alia invited at her doorstep when Syaoran escorted her there.
"Sure," he said, but started when she laced her fingers through his to guide him in the house. He watched as she made coffee, loving every movement she made.
As they drank, they were quiet, neither wanting to let the other go. But Alia made the first move as she came to get his cup.
"I would like to see you again," Alia said, and kissed his cheek gently. She smiled, then was about to go back to her chair when Syaoran stood up.
Seizing his emotions and putting them on the line, Syaoran pulled her up so her lips could meet his, and he kissed her tenderly. Soon he sent his tongue questing into her mouth, and he found her waiting for him. When she wound her arms around his neck, he became even bolder, and pressed her body against his, letting her feel how much he wanted her.
And they ended up in her bedroom; Syaoran had carried her there, and proceeded to make love to her. He'd asked her to move in with him after a delirious week of daily dates, and constant lovemaking. He was passionately in love for the first time in his life; he thought of her all the time, sent her flowers and presents daily at the accounting agency where she worked, drove her to and from work—she quickly became the reason why he lived. Her gentleness, her kindness, her genuine concern for him had made him come undone.
In return she had brought cheer into his life and made his days less grueling. Waking up next to her had been a small joy that made him look forward to mornings. Alia had chided him gently for being so driven and work-centered, luring him out, making him loosen up, letting him feel how much she loved him. So Syaoran began deviating from his daily routine so he could spend time with his beloved.
As for Alia, she'd never been swept off her feet, and Syaoran's romantic tenderness and sweet possessiveness blew her mind. Because he made love with his emotions fully showing, every night (and sometimes morning) had been like living in paradise. She had only hesitated when he'd proposed marriage after three months.
He'd made her breakfast; Alia was hopeless in the kitchen, and Syaoran had bravely attempted to eat her cooking when she'd first moved in. But he discovered that the best way to avoid an upset stomach was to do the cooking himself.
Looking across at her as she smiled at him lovingly, Syaoran had blurted out the first thing on his mind.
"I love you so much, I can't live without you, Alia. Marry me," he said softly.
"What?" Her violet eyes widened in shock.
Syaoran frowned; that wasn't the response he'd expected. "Marry me, little sunshine," he said. It was his intimate nickname for her, one he used only when they made love.
Alia sat quietly. "We've only been together for three months," she said softly.
"I love you. You know that," Syaoran said, and indeed she did; he'd said it the first time they made love, and over and over since then.
It never occurred to him that she had not yet said the words he needed to hear.
"I know," she smiled. "But this is a big step. Please let me think about it."
Disappointed, Syaoran nonetheless agreed and took her to work, reiterating his proposal as he walked her to her office. But, restless and impatient, he dragged a reluctant Eriol with him to buy an engagement ring that very afternoon. "I'll convince her," he'd vowed to a skeptical Eriol. "She'll say yes tonight."
"Don't you think you're rushing her?" Eriol said softly when Syaoran agonized over whether to get an amethyst ring, or a diamond one.
"I'm sure," Syaoran smiled happily. "I've never loved anyone like this—"
"Ever." Eriol interrupted. "That's what worries me, Syaoran. You have no experience in love."
"She loves me. It will be okay," Syaoran said, ignoring the warning tone in Eriol's voice.
"Don't rush her," Eriol said. "You slept with her on the first date?"
"We aren't in the Tokugawa era, Eriol." Syaoran rolled his eyes. "Yes, we made love. Is that a problem?"
"Only when you rush into things," Eriol said pointedly.
"Look, are you my best friend or not?" Syaoran asked in exasperation.
Eriol took Syaoran firmly by the shoulders. "You made love to her on the first date, you made her move in with you after a week, and you've pretty much dictated the pace of this relationship. You haven't even introduced her to me or to your family!" he said in a hoarse whisper. "Listen to me. While being swept off her feet may have thrilled her, not all women can stay complacent forever."
"She loves me, why can't you believe that?" Syaoran snapped.
"Because she's never said it to you once, has she!" Eriol hissed. "Not once, Syaoran! Not once in your stories in the past three months, and you choose to ignore the truth." The clerks at the expensive jewelry store stared; they recognized Eriol, and were intrigued by the handsome man with him.
Syaoran flinched and stepped away, glaring with fury. "Of course she loves me. It's completely obvious. Why else would she move in with me, make love to me, be with me, be..."
"Maybe she doesn't have a choice when it comes to you. Maybe a fool stole her away, swept her into his fantasy, and she didn't get the chance to protest, because she did like that fool... But she'll run away from you at this rate, Syaoran. You're scaring her off by being possessive, controlling, and aggressive." His blue eyes flashed. "And don't blame me when it ends."
Syaoran snarled and was about to lash out when a throat was cleared softly. "Did I come at a bad time?" inquired a soft alto voice, pitched just right to soothe tempers. It was the voice of a woman who could sing beautifully, and later he would find out he was right.
Violet eyes, darker than Alia's, were the first thing he noticed. The second was the strangely self-possessed dignity the raven-haired woman wore about her—just like Eriol. The third thing Syaoran noticed was that she was not fawning over Eriol as fangirls were wont to do. He'd kissed her cheek in welcome, and she had done the same.
"Tomoyo Daidouji-san, may I present my best friend Syaoran Li?" Eriol smiled at the beautiful young woman and bowed slightly.
"I'm sure the pleasure is mine," Tomoyo bowed and smiled gently at Syaoran.
Confused, Syaoran muttered a greeting, looking suspiciously at the two, who led him off to have lunch. He wound up buying a white gold ring with a diamond at a jeweler Tomoyo recommended.
That night, he'd waited for Alia outside her office, and kissed her before she had a chance to protest. Then he presented her with the ring.
"I love you so much, Alia," Syaoran said. "I...please say yes. I can't breathe without you."
Alia stared at the ring. Syaoran doesn't know me that well, she realized with a sinking feeling. She sighed inwardly. If he did, he'd have known I like wearing amber…amber the color of his eyes. And white gold—she'd never liked it; had Syaoran not noticed how all her jewelry was yellow gold?
But he was so deeply in love with her; he never hesitated to show it. How could she refuse such a wonderful man when so many women were looking for someone like Syaoran?
Alarm bells went off in her head when she recklessly looked into his eyes and said, "Yes, but on one condition."
"Anything," Syaoran promised.
"If I fall out of love, you will let me go. Swear it!" She was acting on a strange premonition, which she obeyed.
Syaoran smirked; of course she would stay in love with him, he'd make sure of it. Vaguely he was reminded of a childhood promise he'd made with his cousin Meiling: they had been engaged, and his loophole from her was that he could get out of it if he found someone he loved.
Luckily for him it was Meiling who had fallen in love with someone else. She was now engaged to their high school friend Aris. Those promises meant nothing, Syaoran thought, and so he gladly made it to Alia.
"I promise, on my love for you," he said as he slid the ring on her finger and smothered her with kisses. "Let's get married, tomorrow," he said.
"I..." The alarm bells were back, but Alia accepted his kisses, and said "Yes."
They were married in a quickie ceremony at Tokyo City Hall; the only witnesses were Alia's best friend Haruhina, whom Syaoran met for the first time at the ceremony, and a reluctant Eriol. They had enjoyed a honeymoon in Europe; Syaoran blew most of his savings on the trip, which held romantic memories for both him and her.
Once they came home though, Syaoran did not notice how he was taking his wife's love for granted, and how she was suffering from his illusions, blithely happy in that he was getting his way. He had the woman he wanted, he adored her…his bliss did not allow him to see how he was hurting her.
He ignored calls from his father and mother, who were both asking him to come home to Hong Kong to see them and to introduce Alia to them. He put off Alia's requests for them to travel to Osaka to meet her family. He ignored Eriol except for work, and he shut off his cousin Meiling, who he used to be close to. Alia was his world, and he felt secure in thinking that they would be enough for each other.
The end of their marriage had started innocently; he had told her that he wanted a baby to 'complete' their family some time after their first year anniversary. Alia had been silent.
"Syaoran...Maybe I'm not ready for a baby yet," she said softly.
Syaoran laughed it off and told her he'd stop buying condoms so she could get pregnant. "You'll love it. Women love being pregnant by the men they love!" he said as he kissed her affectionately. "Besides, you're a housewife now, since you resigned from your job."
Alia looked away. She hadn't told him the truth: she had been fired for being absent so often.
That night, Alia refused Syaoran's advances in bed, and he could have sworn he had heard her crying at some point. The next morning, as they had breakfast, Alia asked for a divorce.
Syaoran had not taken it well. First he had laughed, disbelieving; everything had been going well, why divorce then? But his soon-to-be ex-wife Alia had patiently explained that while she still loved him as a friend, she was no longer in love with him. Did he want to live out a lie?
She remembered everything he'd said. Every act, everything...his passion was something that had scared Alia.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Syaoran asked.
"Would you have listened?" Alia was tearful. "Have you ever listened to me? No, do you even notice how I feel?"
And then she reminded him of his promise. Syaoran had rushed Alia into marriage, ardently swearing she could have her freedom if it didn't work out. Smitten and in love, Alia had agreed on that condition...and Syaoran had forgotten about it.
"You wanted to own me, Syaoran, don't you understand? I...You call my office thrice a day, and when you feel like it you come over and kidnap me so that we can fuck when you want to."
Syaoran flinched. "Don't say that."
"Yes, because you don't like it," she muttered. Then she continued, "You think I'm a perfect woman who can't even say bad words. Syaoran, I want to know: do you even know me? Do you even care? What's my favorite color?"
"Huh?"
"Tell me!" Alia's eyes were filling with tears, and when Syaoran admitted he didn't know, they spilled over.
"Do you even care about me? You don't listen when I talk, you never ask about my life and my family…all you care about is making love, talking about our future…Do you even realize that I got fired because the boss was annoyed at my never being there to finish projects because my husband kept popping in to take me out?" Alia was crying hard now.
"I'm sorry!" Syaoran's jaw dropped in horror. "I…"
"I don't see my friends anymore. You go crazy when I'm not next to you...Syaoran, it...I can't breathe!"
Now he remembered Eriol's words from a year ago, right before he'd married Alia.
"Maybe Alia doesn't have a choice. Maybe a fool stole her away, and she didn't get the chance to protest, because she did like that fool... A little. But she'll run away from you at this rate, Syaoran. You're scaring her off by being possessive and aggressive."
"I..." Syaoran began, "I didn't know. I'm sorry..."
"There are so many things about me that you don't know," Alia wailed. "You've made me this perfect lover in your mind. Do you know where I went to high school? Who my friends are? Oh, wait, you never met them, there never is time for it, is there? Don't you find it odd that it's been a year yet I've never met your family?"
"I love you!" Syaoran roared. "I...We're still in the honeymoon period. I just want you all to myself for now..."
"For a year! Syaoran, don't you see what we're doing to each other? I'm only your lover. I'm not your friend—and you know what? It feels as though you don't even want to know who I really am!" Alia stared deep into the beautiful amber eyes she loved, but...not that way. Not anymore, and she regretted that she'd had a chance to nip this in the bud but didn't—because she had once been madly in love with Syaoran too.
"Then why did you agree to marry me?"
"Syaoran, did you give me a choice in anything?" Alia challenged. "Tell me when I dictated what happens in our relationship."
And he couldn't think of an example.
Alia looked at him sadly. "You see? You chose to go after me. You seduced me on the first night we met. You insisted that we marry so soon, and you wouldn't let me invite my family and friends. And now you choose when to get me pregnant, and you didn't even see past my hesitation. You...God I was so blind to what you were doing!"
"Then we won't have a baby," Syaoran said, confused. "Why are you so upset? You love me too, you said so on our honeymoon..."
"After you asked me to," Alia said mournfully. "You said it wasn't fair that you never heard it from me. I..."
"So you don't love me?" Syaoran was incredulous.
"I don't know!" Alia wailed. "You forced me into this!"
"I didn't see any objections when we made love," Syaoran pointed out. "And why didn't you say something earlier?"
"Because I was swept away!" Alia cried. "Because I..." She laughed hollowly. "I wanted you too...Why else would I have agreed to everything you wanted? I thought I needed someone like you, but now I see we're not growing as people anymore. What happens when you tire of me, when the flame of your passion burns out? Will you discard me? Can you make your passion last?"
"Why don't you trust me?" Syaoran was bewildered. "I meant it when I said I would love you forever."
"That you can't understand what the problem is..." Alia began to cry. "There it is, Syaoran and you can't see it. You can't see it. You...will never see it..." She was sobbing hard now.
Syaoran tried to take her in his arms but she pushed him away. "No. No, Syaoran. I can't take this anymore. I'm so sorry."
That was when he had begun to scream. Then he had begged, much to his shame. "You can't just leave me! You don't tell someone you love them then change your mind just like that!"
Alia was forced to put aside her own feelings to try and comfort Syaoran. "I still love you," she said gently. "But I no longer am in love with you. Remember it was you who offered me my freedom if things didn't work out? It really happens, Syaoran. And it would be utterly unfair and cruel of me to stay if only you are in love with me. It would be like using you because I could not give you the love you need...the love you deserve. If you love me, let me go."
"If you love me, then stay!" Syaoran grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
"Syaoran..." Alia sighed softly. "Love isn't about forcing the other person...and you promised me..."
"I refuse to believe it!" Syaoran was drawing blood from his clenched hands; his nails were digging in so deep, they had broken his skin. "I believe love is forever!"
Alia sighed, then touched Syaoran's cheek; he was crying, and it hurt her to hurt him. "Syaoran...would you rather have us live a lie? What if I fell in love with someone else? Wouldn't that be even worse? And you love so deeply, Syaoran, that it would be sadistic to accept that love without giving anything back. I believe you are destined to love someone else, to give her all the love and passion you have. Someone who needs you to be that way with her. That someone isn't me though. Would you rather wait until I cheated on you?"
To his shame, Syaoran had clung to her, begged her not to leave. Alia had held him until he'd fallen asleep from exhaustion...then when he'd woken up, she was gone, leaving behind a tender letter thanking him for their year together, for all his kindness, and for loving her.
He'd burned it outside the home they had shared, and immediately placed the house on the market—though he would not move out until the divorce was final.
The divorce was the worst thing that had happened to him. Alia tried to reach out, to be kind, and constantly sent him letters of apology but Syaoran angrily refused all contact with her. Amazingly she had understood, and sent him a letter apologizing for what had happened. He never responded, and withdrew into his cold, angry shell, giving her their house, everything they had shared in their divorce settlement. Yet he refused to move out—he wanted her to come back and throw him out herself.
She never did.
Syaoran dealt with it badly; he'd attempted suicide by drinking poison. Luckily Eriol had found him in time—and since Syaoran was no expert on poisons, it was a simple matter of having his stomach pumped.
He'd tried to resist the divorce, but since it was a no-fault, no-support-requested divorce, it was fairly easy for Alia. She had tried to call, tried to send him letters, but he angrily responded that the only thing he wanted to hear was that she was coming back.
Incredibly she did not give up, but tried to keep telling him to open his heart, to try and understand what had happened.
She was the first to open my heart...and the last, he vowed. He had been hurt so badly, only Eriol had been able to prevent him from killing himself again as soon as the divorce was final. Love is a lie...and I hate lies, he told himself bitterly.
He could not hate Alia as much as he pretended to. He wouldn't see her, wouldn't talk to her—but he'd kept her clothes, her bedroom, her changes to their home intact. He longed for her to walk through the door of the house they had shared and to say, "Syaoran, I'm home—for good."
Because Syaoran still loved her, despite her constant insistence on him moving on to find "the one he was destined for" whenever she talked to Eriol—his only means of finding out about what she was doing these days...he still loved her.
And it had been two years since she had been gone.
"So that's it, right there. She lied to me," Syaoran said, tossing back another shot.
Sakura have him a measuring glance. "You find it easier to blame her, not yourself. Why can't you see what happened? You have trouble dealing with your emotions and so you lash out…"
Syaoran stood up, eyes blazing. "Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?"
Sakura was nervous; she hadn't seen him this angry before, but she faced him. "Yes. I know you hate that but you have to hear it from me. Who else can tell you?"
"What makes you think you're superior when it comes to relationships?" Syaoran snarled.
"I never said I was! But it's been two years. You need to move on, and you need to hear where you went wrong so you can move on!" Sakura stood her ground.
"Yeah? Well, not everyone can be as innocent or naïve as you are, as accepting of the world. You led a happy life, no major traumas, no real heartbreaks," he spat at her. "Growing up in that ideal home with a loving dad and brother—you don't know what pain is."
Sakura flinched; Syaoran did not know her secret pain from her past, and this was not the time to tell him, not when he was being angry and snide. "That's what you think," she said quietly.
"Yeah, you probably didn't make prom queen in high school, what a tragedy, oh the humanity," Syaoran sneered. It was his favorite way of coping: lashing out when things didn't go his way.
Sakura had merely smiled, though the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Everyone has some kind of pain, Syaoran-kun. Sometimes we need to get past it the best way we know how. But I've always told myself that everything will be all right. Somehow. It's hard to keep believing that—I know, boy do I know. But Syaoran-kun," and she looked earnestly into his eyes, "whatever your pain is, I think it's easier if we can share it."
And she smiled.
A nasty comment died on his lips when she touched his arm. Why was he being so hostile anyway? Sakura had never done anything to deserve his hostility, which he used as armor to keep people away from him. Syaoran had never been comfortable with talking about or dealing with his feelings.
As a child he'd learned that running away was the best way to avoid feelings and confrontations; in fact, right now, he was tempted to walk out the door. Except this was his house, after all.
Instead, he would never know why he chose to crack his first joke then—had he known how it would set the tone of their relationship, he would have done so earlier.
"Oh so the real Sakura comes out. Pretty Pollyana," he taunted.
He yelped when she'd slapped his arm for the first time.
She clapped her hands to her mouth and apologized immediately to Syaoran, who was unable to resist the urge to make another joke.
"I accept the apology from the tomboy who hits men."
"Syaoran-kun!" Outraged, Sakura hit his arm again, and when he ran to avoid her, she ran after him.
A few more hits later, they were laughing helplessly. When they calmed down, Sakura cleared her throat.
"Syaoran-kun…You're a good guy. You just…I don't know, but you made a mistake with Alia. Fine, but it's not the end of the world. What if someone falls in love with you, someone who loves you, truly, and you end up shutting her out? You have to let go, and you have to move on."
Syaoran said nothing; while it still irritated him, he knew deep inside that she was telling him what he needed to hear.
"And I'm going to help you," Sakura continued, smiling at him. "All right?"
"Is there a point to helping people who don't want to be helped?" he asked scornfully.
"Yes. Yes, I believe so," Sakura said quietly, "because if one person you trust doesn't give up on you, you've got to eventually ask yourself why that person doesn't give up on you, and you're going to see that you are worth it."
He merely looked at her, saying nothing again, but beginning to get thoughtful. He would reflect on her words for a long time to come.
For Syaoran, their friendship was like finding the one person who could understand what was in his heart and never think him weak for it. Sakura also got to talk about the pain of her past relationships--though she hesitated with the details. He had yet to drag the full stories of her love life out of her and when he did, he would be horrified by how badly love had treated her. Syaoran discovered he enjoyed teasing Sakura, and he slowly came out of his shell with her.
On the other hand, Sakura liked the challenge of getting Syaoran to be less angry, less sullen. It was like having Toya with her again, and Syaoran made her feel safe. His company was a welcome relief from the tense relationships in the past, and her hurts tended to fade away when they played, bickered, ate, and even exercised together.
For both of them, it felt good to be able to open up to someone who wasn't asking them to 'get over it' or 'move on'...or worse, trying to set them up with someone else. Talking about Alia and Emile and, Syaoran later discovered, Kito was cathartic for them; Syaoran felt the thorn in his chest lifting a bit, and Sakura began to regain her optimism and cheerfulness. Getting Syaoran to open up was like a pleasant game for Sakura, because he reminded her of her brother: gruff, grumpy, and even rude on the surface, but kind and shy with a rare wit if you could peer past the facade.
He on the other hand liked Sakura's cheerfulness, even though he knew that sometimes she forced the happy face on. She never judged him, and seemed to actually appreciate his presence. Her attitude was infectious, and Syaoran found that he could smile when he was in her presence. Together, they had found the comfort that was lacking in their lives.
Early that winter, Sakura started working at the Entertainment Network. She noticed her very handsome silver-haired boss Yue Lim, the son of the owner, immediately—she couldn't miss the smoldering looks he was giving her, and she was thrilled—especially after he asked her out a month into her employment.
"He's probably gay," Syaoran said as he stirred his coffee at the Cat's Eye Café. "What's with the long hair? I bet your brother would never approve of him; if I'm the Brat then Yue would be The Fag." He chortled.
"He is not, and don't be hateful," Sakura chided him.
"It's dangerous to date a boss," Syaoran warned.
"At least I have a date."
"Like I care about being dateless?" Syaoran leaned back and felt in his pockets before he remembered that he'd left his cigarettes at home.
"Ha!" Sakura was triumphant. "You're giving up on that filthy habit!"
"Am not," he retorted. "I just…forgot."
She grinned, and he knew she knew. Nonetheless, he issued a few more warnings about Yue—which Sakura blissfully ignored—before taking his leave.
A few nights later, Yue took Sakura out to the lounge of a swanky hotel. He'd proven to be dryly witty, funny, and thrilling to be with; he'd sent Sakura into orbit when he kissed her hand and bade her goodbye after he took her home in his Aston Martin. Then he'd called her as soon as she arrived home, and they had talked for an hour. Sakura began exchanging funny and silly text messages with him, thrilled because he was just so—romantic. When roses appeared at her doorstep a few days later, Sakura floated on a high for the next week.
Yue, for his part, was intrigued by the beautiful auburn-haired, green-eyed beauty. She had laughing, sparkling eyes, and was almost inordinately cheerful. And, big bonus, she treated him like a regular guy. He had flirted openly with Sakura when she began working for his company, taken by her sweet appearance, her smile, her innocence.
After six months, Sakura let Yue kiss her, and they became a couple. She worried so much after Yue had first kissed her, and he had not left or chosen to cheat on her...in fact, he was sexy and sweet.
"…and when he kisses me, I could just…"
"Ugh. Spare me," Syaoran rolled his eyes.
"You're rude!" Sakura declared. "He's a gentleman, much unlike some other Chinese guys I could name."
"And who's that?" Syaoran baited.
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Third time lucky, they say," and she smiled. "Come on, Syaoran, show some enthusiasm."
"How can I be enthusiastic when this dick made you bail out on lunch with me the last time?" Syaoran complained.
"He makes me happy," Sakura reached out and took Syaoran's hand. "He really does. Can't you be happy for me?"
Syaoran eyed her, then shrugged. "All right. You two will be happy, you'll marry, have a dozen ugly gay kids and live happily ever after. Happy now? … Ouch!"
She had slapped his arm, and when he tried to retaliate, she giggled and threatened to upend a pitcher of juice on his head. They called a truce, and later, Sakura said, "I'm sorry I don't see you that often, but I'll try to set you up too…"
"Fuck no," Syaoran said crudely. "Look, I'm happy for you. Just…just leave me alone on that. Okay?"
"Okay…" she said uncertainly. "Oh dear, I've got to go now."
"Take a cab. I already paid for lunch," Syaoran said.
"Oooh, so not fair! How did you do that this time?"
"Not telling you my secrets," Syaoran grinned. "Now go, get back to your office and your gay boyfriend…" He dodged the slap to his arm.
"Quit it!"
"Just telling the truth," Syaoran said. "Now go on!"
Once Sakura left, the owner of the Cat's Eye Café, Fay Flourite, presented Syaoran with the bill. Syaoran paid up with his credit card.
"Good idea for you to talk to me first about the bill. You two are adorable when you argue about it," Fay smiled.
"Tactics, plain and simple," Syaoran smirked.
"I can't help but overhear she's seeing someone."
Syaoran shrugged; now that Sakura had left, he could sneak the cigarettes out from his pockets. "Yeah, she is. Good for her."
"Don't you feel you should be dating her yourself, Syaoran-kun?" Fay smiled.
Syaoran looked up and gave him a wilting look. "Please."
The older man smiled. "Perhaps now is not the time for you to change your mind."
"On what?" Syaoran paused in lighting a cigarette.
"Changing your habits…and your mindset. You see," and Fay cheerfully removed the cigarette from Syaoran's hand and snuffed it, tossing it into the dirty dishes and ignoring Syaoran's protests, "you're not the only one who talked to me in advance. Sakura-chan told me not to let you light up a single cigarette…and to hand over the pack you have hidden in your socks."
Syaoran groaned and raised his hands in surrender. "Fine," he grumbled and threw the pack at Fay. "I give up." He stood up, left a tip, and walked to where he had parked his BMW.
"Those two." Fay smiled; he watched them with interest whenever they came to his café. "Those two can really warm the heart." He hummed a love song as he cleared their table, confident that Syaoran and Sakura would eventually realize their feelings for each other.
In Chapter 3: Sakura has heartache to deal with, and tries to hide it from Syaoran. Someone unexpected pays a visit.
Notes (EDITED)
In Japan and many parts of Asia, it is normal for people to stay with their parents until they marry--and sometimes even after they do. Grown adults living with parents doesn't have the same stigma in Asia as it does in Europe and the US.
I gave hints in the original story that Sakura already knew that Tomoyo and Touya were in love. She may be dense but she also can be oddly sympathetic to those who need to hide their affairs (such as Rika and Terada-sensei).
I know Syaoran does not smoke (and I don't like it myself) but as I mentioned earlier, it's going to be a sort of "battleground" for him and Sakura ^_^
"Pollyana" is a reference to a positive, cheerful girl who always thought the best of every situation.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I try to answer each review if I can, when I can, but if I don't, it doesn't mean I'm not grateful; please accept a hug and a kiss from Syaoran (hehe). Thank you DN Angel and Cardcaptor Sakura (first, thanks!), Jusenkyo, lhaine07, lizziele, anigal08, Wings of Wind, AngelEmCutie, yoimnao, smile4meeh, broken emerald, vlakimir, Enigma infinite, DineyBlue, mystic emeralds, cupid17, EmpKaylenatye, Hime Kimiko, puasloma, Julia and Tania, Shahar Mystral, Nadja100, vreni, XxButterflyxAngelxLover, and Yingfa Dreamer.