70. Omoni (200)

Chun'yan winced as the brush ripped her hair out. "That hurts!"

Her Omoni smiled ruefully. "Well, dear, that's what happens when you spend all day mud wrestling," she said, pulling the brush through the damp curtain of hair. Chun'yan groaned. Not only had she had to bathe two days in a row because of the incident, but now she had to sit here getting her hair pulled out, too. It wasn't fair.

"He started it," she grumbled, thinking of the village boy who'd shoved her into the mud two hours ago.

Her mother simply smiled. "A future shinban must control her temper, Chun'yan."

"But he deserved it!"

Her Omoni's voice turned sharp. "You cannot act so brazen. The role of a shinban is to protect her people, whether they do good or ill."

The brush slid smoothly through her black hair as the tangles came out.

"There," her mother said. "Next time you shove someone into a puddle, try using your magic instead of your hands. It's much cleaner that way."

"Omoni!" Chun'yan squeaked, shocked. "I thought you said—"

"Even shinban lose their temper sometimes." And then her mother gave her a broad smile, and Chun'yan knew she was forgiven.

71. Father

Syaoran's pulse pounded in his ears, like the beating of a drum. Why isn't she here? he wondered, frozen in the palace entryway. Sakura's always here.

Just as he was about to dissolve into a panic attack, he heard a series of light footsteps descending the stairs. He relaxed, realizing he'd been holding his breath. But it wasn't the princess that emerged at the bottom of the stairwell. It was a toddler, a girl with dark brown hair and—

Green eyes.

Syaoran had about one second, as the child's arms wrapped around his leg, to realize he'd become a father.

72. In Between

He felt the sudden suction, the twist of vertigo, and knew he was traveling.

Sakura's eyes flashed as she registered the change. Syaoran reached for her, hand trailing across her cheekbone even as his arm was pulled into the dimensional sea. "I'll come back," he called. He wasn't sure if he got the words out before the inter-dimensional waters swallowed him. His eyes closed, his arms wrapping around his torso to stave off the cold.

The space between worlds was cold. Not like Sakura, or Clow Country. But it was all he knew in the seconds he spent between worlds.