A/N: I have to thank my first (and the only, LOL) 5 reviewers ever since I came back: apple, Property of Eriol, cheng (belated happy birthday, dear), Benjamin Lau and Winter Ink. Your reviews gave me inspiration to update sooner. The development may seem too fast now but I want to have that such time-skip because I'd hate to fill gaps with unnecessary situations. Heh Excuses! LOL Thank you, THANK YOU for those who still read this fic and for being infinitely patient. I seriously love you guys. Mwah!


Act 13, Winter

To say that Tōya was annoyed would be a shameful understatement.

He was just actually livid.

His foolish cousin was running around wearing just the right clothes for suicide again and he just had another uncontrollable urge to blame everything to the somber-looking Chinese gaki, who was gaping at his friend's form with a guilty look in his eyes.

It was almost amusing that the doctor was in such position again, checking on written observations on clipboards and deciphering lab results. These young people never seem to get enough of inflicting harm upon themselves, and Eriol was supposed to be a really sensible person.

And now this sensible person just had to fall into coma.

"You should rest, Li-kun." He heard Nakuru advise his cousin's best friend.

The Chinese had always been the first and last visitor in the intensive care unit, and it was almost pitiful to watch. Just today, he was sitting in a sad corner, brooding again. Nobody could tell when his friend would ever wake up.

"It was probably my fault," Syaoran mumbled more to himself than to anyone, suddenly scowling at the sheets that covered part of the hospital bed. Or was it the respirator that he was glaring at, it was hard to tell in the softness of the light in the room.

Baka! It's all your fault!

Before those words left his mouth his assistant had already shot him a warning look in the pretense of an unassuming flick of her warm golden eyes. She was wise enough to consider other people's feelings in this sort of circumstance.

There were a handful of reasons why he could never come to like Eriol's best friend, and one of them was him not being able to at least look after the sickly boy at this time of the year.

"He chose to help Daidōji-chan. There was no one else who could've done it better than him," the comely nurse said with a comforting smile. "Li-kun, it's not your fault."

And where is that no-good father of his? Clow Reed could not really have abandoned his son like this, could he?

"Nee Kinomoto-sensei."

Couldn't he see Eriol-kun's trying too damn hard catching up on him?

"Sensei?"

Nakuru and Syaoran were curiously wondering what he was spacing about. The physician felt it was unnecessary and ridiculous to start blaming anyone right now, especially that Eriol had been stable since yesterday. Though he still couldn't stop thinking about the collapse of the boy's lungs that had almost killed him. His cousin would just have to come around soon, or he would start blaming himself as well.

All this sacrifice over a girl he barely knew.

Daidōji Tomoyo would be forever enigma to Tōya Kinomoto, a secret he would not want to find out.

"Yes, yes. Now come along, gaki. I don't want to have to look after you, too, if you faint of deliberate abandon of your own health. Let's grab something to eat."

Syaoran didn't even try to bicker with the older man this time.


When Tomoyo finally decided to make that call, she already found herself some decent flat to stay and an inconspicuous job in a local library.

It had been almost two weeks since she took the train to Fukuoka, one week since she debated whether she really had to bother her senpai even if it had been his own instruction, and five days since she thought it was strange that Eriol himself didn't call to at least check on her.

You are not even friends. You are not his responsibility, her reasonable mind interjected before she could shut it away.

She really didn't need to be reminded about that. That was why she didn't call him like he said she should. Tomoyo didn't want to dare to hope he was at least worried about her.

Maybe he thought I can be fine on my own, she told herself.

However, the girl had a nagging sense that something else might have held up the bespectacled pianist. She remembered how he seemed like he was going to vomit on his way out of the train. The azure-eyed man suddenly paled two shades lighter by then.

A few more rings had passed before there was finally an answer.

"Moshi moshi."

"Sumimasen Li-san—"

"Who is—Daidōji-san? You have Hiiragizawa's phone." Why he sounded very much taken aback or confused that it was her in the other end she couldn't quite grasp. Surely, Eriol had already told him to expect her call.

"He told me to call your number when I've arrived in Fukuoka—"

"But that was supposed to happen last week then," he interrupted her again.

"Well, yes, something came up. Actually, that's also why I called." Obviously a lie.

Syaoran Li struggled to form the answer for a moment.

"Whatever it is it doesn't matter now." There was a sigh in the other line. "Should I go ahead and inform Hiiragizawa that you are doing alright on your own? I assume that's the case."

Of course it was just the situation or she wouldn't be calling ten days later than she was told.

The former heiress debated upon herself if she should ask to personally speak to him or leave a message instead.

The latter won mainly because there was nothing much to say anyway. Surely, Eriol changed his mind about seeing her again someday. It would be too much of a hassle keeping a connection with somebody so problematic like her. It just was not worth it.

"Please do, Li-san," Tomoyo told him, resigned at last. "I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused all of you. I'd appreciate if you'd also thank him for me. I'll most definitely repay him someday, in any way I can."

It took another pause before the Chinese could reply. She could barely hear animation in Syaoran's end. The excitement in the background was distracting him. That or the amber-eyed young man was losing interest in their conversation.

"I'll be sure to tell him that," Syaoran said, acquiescing. "Anō, I don't want to be rude but I'm in the middle of something right now and I need to go. Please take care of yourself. Jaa."

In a click the call was disconnected and an unending beep resounded in her ear.

The young woman stared at the phone as if she could not believe how it just ended. Tomoyo Daidōji didn't think she would be disappointed about how the conversation went.

Why? It doesn't make sense to feel this way.

Her fingers reached for her hair, a habit that formed in the last few weeks, but all they met was a length that stopped before the curls reached her shoulders. Her slender neck was mostly exposed now.

She tried not to feel dejected that she had to cut her raven tresses.

It wasn't that she was vain. It was more of having to let go of a part of who she was.

But it's inevitable. How can I keep my identity unknown still looking like the heiress that I refuse to be?

Tomoyo couldn't help but moan to herself.

"Wake up, Tomoyo. There is so much to do, and feeling sorry for yourself is not one of them," she reprimanded her miserable reflection before her.

That thought had her wiping the rest of the windows of the east wing of the deserted library as if there was no tomorrow.


There was too much commotion in the room today that it made his head hurt.

Syaoran was torn between whacking Yamazaki's head for being so damn noisy or wringing Eriol's neck for making him so worried.

His best friend finally woke up in his own private room after a week of being in the ICU, weak and demanding for some water to drink. He was almost convinced Eriol was being deliberate about the whole thing and wanted to torture him by falling into coma. He didn't think he deserved that kind of punishment.

"You bastard."

He wasn't able to stop himself and couldn't put into right words how tremendously relieved he was. The pianist's face was almost gaunt and his blue eyes lost some of that life, but he was mostly alright.

"Is that how you greet someone who almost died of lung cancer?" Eriol, though still looking very frail and serious on that hospital bed, managed to croak a gag when his best friend came closer to them.

"Is that what it really was?" His eyes couldn't have appeared rounder than then. The Chinese thought it was a winter disease that was only critical when untreated.

That's just how any disease might react when ignored, ne. But cancer?!

"Of course not, Li-kun. Don't be ridiculous. It was more like Tuberculosis or something."

What the ironically smiling Yamazaki Takashi said threw him off.

"Eh?"

"Pulmonary fibrosis, you gullible gaki," Tōya told the amber-eyed young man at last, making his presence known and probably wondering how susceptible he could be to lies. "Remember that well, or I'll drill that to your thick skull."

The physician had a poker expression on his youthful face as he looked on, looking even more sinister in that bored stance of his.

Syaoran didn't know how he was able to contain his urge to kill his friends for the cruel joke. He didn't need to be embarrassed in front of the doctor again. That smug air around Kinomoto Tōya was degrading him even further.

The boys were just exchanging their belated pleasantries when Tōya decided to be a kill joy again, announcing that they only have a few more minutes before they needed to leave. Their presence was doing his cousin more harm than good with their juvenile riot.

Everything is good now, Syaoran mused.

His best friend would positively recover from what happened, and Daidōji Tomoyo, who was unexpectedly an heiress of a mammoth textile company, had earned her emancipation. They did their part and it should be enough. Whatever her reasons for running away were, he was out of it, and so should Eriol be, even if his friend might have been interested in the girl.

It was as if the young man had thought of a horrible curse or made some sort of premonition. The moment the contemplation ended, Yamazaki just had to open his mouth.

"Who was that on the phone just now?"

Li Syaoran fell on mid-step. He could feel the shift in the room, the unavoidable stasis, and Tōya's piercing stare was almost untrusting.

They hadn't even gotten out of the room when the dark-haired asked.

Yamazaki waited as he tilted his head on one side while Eriol looked as if he just remembered something important and waited for Syaoran's response like he knew what he was about to say.

He could only imagine whatever consequence that was to come out of this.

"Daidōji-san."

And those azure eyes had undoubtedly come alive to the name.


A/N: WTF on confusing POVs. I have no idea. I needed to go rant using Tōya's thoughts. *sigh* But at least he hates Syaoran, right? Not very OOC now, is he? And, of course, feedbacks would be very much appreciated. Good, bad, doesn't really matter. Nothing is more frustrating to writers than seeing story hits and no comments from readers. So please, read and review.


Quick notes:

gaki - brat

moshi moshi - "Hello?"