Darkness Falls, Chapter 2
Previously:
"Don't do that," he said, very quietly, as he pushed her knee away. "Please."
"Why are you doing this? Let me go! Help!" Sakura screamed. A hand came down on her mouth, muffling her.
"Shh." The voice was rough, as if it was rarely used, but oddly nonthreatening. "I'll let go if you don't scream. Nod if you agree."
That voice.
Low and guttural, Sakura realized whoever it was, was disguising his voice. He's someone I know then, she realized. She nodded slowly but with exaggerated motions to make sure he understood, taking a chance that he was not lying.
"Please don't hurt me," she said softly when his hand was lifted. Yamazaki's stories of girls being molested or raped ran through her head, and she could feel tears beginning to form in her eyes.
The boy holding her started. "What? Of-of course not!" He forgot to disguise his voice, yelping indignantly. "I would never . . . I would never hurt you!"
I know that voice! Sakura thought. But who?
xXxSxSxXx
Part Two: Halfway Between Twilight and Darkness
Syaoran took a deep breath, not caring if she heard. "I . . ."
Then he realized she was shivering in his hold, and momentarily he was ashamed of himself for scaring her this way. But all the frustration, all the times he'd tried to show her how he felt, his inability to tell her to her face . . . and now . . . she would soon have a boyfriend.
A boyfriend who was not him.
So you decide to confront her in darkness, a voice in his head taunted. Coward.
He closed his eyes, then muttered, "You can't be his."
"Ho . . . what?"
"Your . . . that guy. Your b-boyfriend. Akira Todoh . . . " How hard was it to say the word? "I . . . I can't . . ."
His breathing was labored, and for a terrifying moment Syaoran thought he was going to cry. No, fuck it, no no no! It wasn't supposed to be this way!
"Boyfriend?" Her tone was confused.
"I want you," he blurted out.
She started and he scolded himself when she cringed; that sounded like something a pervert would say!
"I won't lose to him," he said quietly. "You . . . you're mine."
A long silence, tense as a stretched wire, hung between them.
xXxSxSxXx
I know that voice! Sakura thought.
Rough. Tense. But there was a strange undertone of gentleness to it, something that resonated with her. She ventured a question.
"Why didn't you just tell me then?" Her voice was small, confused and somewhat hurt. "Why this way? Why not just . . . why . . ."
What she couldn't ask: Why won't you show me who you are? Why didn't you approach me before Todoh did?
"Why would you want someone like me?" His voice was bitter. "Not when one of the most handsome boys in school wants you."
"That's not true," Sakura said.
He choked, something like a bitter half-laugh, and Sakura, though she could not explain it—she wanted to help this boy, this oddly comforting stranger whose pain felt real.
Why does he hate himself so?
She could feel him clenching and unclenching his fists, making sounds that told her he was trying to say something but was failing at it.
"Is . . . is there something you want to say?" she asked.
More of the incoherent sounds, then suddenly the boy tore his arms off her and hurled himself away-but not without making sure she was safely on her feet first. "I can't! Fucking hell, I just can't!" He smashed his fist on a locker, and cried out; the pain exploded like little stars in the dark and he cursed.
Sakura gasped. The agony in his voice was painful to hear; it was like he had suffered years of torment, though she knew not why or how.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
A dry chuckle told her he almost laughed. Why did he stifle his laughter anyway? It forcibly reminded her of how Syaoran had never laughed in class; the most even the class clown Yamazaki had gotten out of him was a choked half-laugh.
Stop it, Sakura, he can't possibly be Syaoran! Why would he sound so agonized over you, of all people? You just want it to be him!
Sakura's eyes had managed to adjust to the darkness enough to see his outline; against all logic, against the voice in her head screaming at her to run, run away now! she made her way to him.
He almost jumped when he felt her touch him.
"Are you all right?" Sakura repeated.
"Me?" I should let you go, he thought, but he remembered he'd locked the door behind him. Oh God she was going to think he was trying to hurt her!
"Why did you hit the locker? You hurt yourself," she said gently.
"Because I didn't want to scare you," he blurted. "I . . . I never wanted to hurt you . . . s-so it made more sense to hurt . . . well, myself."
Sakura giggled. "That's silly."
"Never mind me." He took her hand in both of his; she almost drew back, but he stroked it gently. Her skin was soft and warm, and he liked the feel of her hand in his.
"So small," he murmured.
She put her other hand on top of his.
"You have strong hands," she said.
He shook his head, then remembered she couldn't see him.
"Can I . . ." What? What was he going to ask her? He sighed softly and played with a tendril of her hair.
Sakura almost gasped. Once, a few months ago, Syaoran had done the same thing in class; he'd been almost playful that day, and she'd felt a gentle tugging on her hair. She'd turned to find him playing with it, looking fascinated; when she smiled at him, he'd blushed and let go.
And now this strange boy was doing the same thing.
I wish you would stop reminding me of Syaoran!
Sometimes, emotions can manifest themselves as a physical force; in Syaoran's case, his chest felt like he was full of what he felt for Sakura. He touched her cheek gently.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked softly, her hand on his.
"I . . . I don't know."
Then suddenly he folded her into his arms.
"You . . ." He breathed in the flowery scent of her hair; she'd kept her golden brown hair as short as it had been when they had been children. In his arms she was small—so small a girl to hold his heart and his world in her hands. Here, in the darkness, he felt he could express himself far better by holding her, with little touches and caresses. In the darkness, he was brave.
How long had he felt this way about her? Syaoran had no idea; it was like suddenly he'd woken up one day to find that no day was complete without her.
Then he dared say the word he'd never had the right to say: her name.
"Sakura," he whispered.
Standing there, holding her in the darkness, Syaoran could pretend, even if for a while, that she was his, and he was her lover.
He bent his head, whispering, "Just for a while. Please."
Syaoran held her to his chest, his eyes closed. So this was what it was like to hold Sakura close. It was like holding something warm he never wanted to let go of, and since she had stopped shivering and had relaxed in his gentle hold, the illusion was complete.
Like he was her lover.
Sakura was still in his arms, her forearms on his chest, clutching at his school blazer. She lowered her head onto his chest. Nothing made sense; why should she trust this stranger? She should be running away, screaming for help, anything but this!
Hold me a little longer, she thought, as she closed her eyes and told herself she was in Syaoran's arms. And the world became a little smaller, and safer.
xXxSxSxXx
So many things he wanted to say; the thoughts rushed at him, confusing him and rendering him silent. He had no idea which to say first, much less how to say it.
"Don't be afraid," he said softly as he touched her chin.
And then his lips touched hers.
xXxSxSxXx
Sakura was beginning to relax. He wasn't going to hurt her; if he were, why was he holding her so gingerly, as if he was afraid he would break her?
And there was the way he whispered her name: reverently, like a small prayer.
Something about him made her feel oddly safe; even the strange noises of the building—little creaks, muffled thuds, sounds of an aging building in the night—no longer bothered her. It was like he had come to protect her; if he wanted to force himself on her, he would have done so already. Instead he'd held her close, in an embrace that was warm and protective.
It was almost like the way she felt when Syaoran was around, although that was impossible; she'd heard him, Eriol, and Yamazaki making plans to go to Tomoeda Arcade earlier, and they'd left the classroom together.
Besides . . . he had never reacted when she and Tomoyo had the conversation they had rehearsed several times in hopes of getting a reaction out of him. So Sakura concluded that Syaoran didn't want her that way. And the longing in his voice told her that this boy could not be him, no matter how much she wanted it to be Syaoran. Because she had never heard that sad, lonely longing in Syaoran's voice. Not for her.
If only it were Syaoran saying these things to me!
Then she felt his kiss; it was a gentle touch, like droplets of a rain shower. It was tentative and yet sweet; she hadn't expected it, but this kiss felt like she meant the world to him, his lips touching hers softly and tenderly.
She couldn't help it; she began to cry. This was wrong, because this kiss was what she had imagined her first kiss to be like: perfect. Like they were discovering kissing together, and making something wonderful out of it.
And she had imagined that it would be Syaoran holding her this way, kissing her tenderly.
Then he drew away, holding her face in his hands, and saying, "Don't cry."
She choked, and pressed her face into his chest. Those were Syaoran's words as well, and with the darkness and her eyes closed, she could almost pretend it was him holding her, comforting her in the darkness. Her hands turned into fists, and she grabbed the front of his shirt as she wept.
"Syaoran," she whispered softly into his chest.
If only you were Syaoran! Her tears fell quietly, and he held her, wordlessly comforting her in her sorrow.
Had it been some other place, some other time, Syaoran would have heard her say his name, and realized that there was the possibility for love to bloom, that the tiny seeds of happiness existed in both their hearts.
But in this world, he never heard her say his name.
xXxSxSxXx
I'm sorry.
He couldn't say the words; something tight was in his throat when he realized Sakura was crying. Had he taken her first kiss away from her? Had he hurt her?
She meant so much to him, and the moment he'd walked into the classroom, everything had gone wrong. He hadn't been able to confess; he hadn't been able to tell her anything he felt.
Syaoran swallowed, touching his forehead to hers, not feeling how the blindness in his eyes—which wasn't due to the darkness—had become a watery blur.
"D-don't . . . don't cry," he said softly; his hands came up to cradle her face, and his thumbs wiped the tears away. "Please."
xXxSxSxXx
Sakura felt the moisture on her forehead, and almost thought it was rain.
He's crying!
Hiccupping, she reached up and felt his face blindly until she found two rivulets of tears, one on each cheek.
Somehow I've hurt him too, she thought. Nothing made sense in the situation until she remembered what she had whispered earlier.
He must have heard me call him by Syaoran's name, she realized, shame washing over her. How could she have been so thoughtless?
"I'm sorry," she whispered. Sorry I called you by the name of the one I want to love me.
xXxSxSxXx
Syaoran released Sakura gently. No matter how he wanted the moment to last, this was wrong and he was taking advantage of her sweet nature.
He couldn't live with himself for that.
"I don't deserve you," he said as guided her to a chair. "There. You'll be all right now. Just stay there," he said.
"Where are you going?"
Syaoran groped his way to the door; it wasn't just the darkness blinding his eyes now. At the back of his mind something screamed, Don't leave her alone! But he couldn't deal with this. Not now.
Not ever.
Not when there was no hope that she could possibly be his, let alone love him.
She said she was sorry.
She's sorry because she can't return your feelings.
And I couldn't say anything. Couldn't apologize, couldn't tell her what I felt, couldn't even tell her who I was.
"Wait!"
She knows what I'm going to do!
"Who are you?" Sakura screamed, in desperation standing up and barking her shin on a chair; the pain stopped her for a crucial few seconds, during which he fled towards the door. "Don't leave me! Please wait!"
"Please have a happy life," he said softly as he flicked on the lights and fled as they momentarily blinded her.
xXxSxSxXx
Sakura sat blinking in the sudden light. He was gone, whoever he was, leaving behind only five words: a wish for her to be happy in life.
Why?
She touched her lips; she could still almost feel him there. Was it possible to taste love in a single kiss? This boy had loved her, she knew it . . . and had she been faster, had he just waited, maybe, just maybe . . .
No. It was wishful thinking. She only felt that way because she desperately wanted that boy to be Syaoran.
Making her way blindly out of the school, Sakura wished she could have just seen one part of him: his hands, his hair, anything. But her tears had prevented her from seeing something to remember him by.
xXxSxSxXx
Syaoran sat quietly in the guidance counselor's office, listening to Okioji-sensei's comments.
"Your record is almost perfect, Li-san. Why would you risk it by pulling out of Seijyu at this point? It's only halfway through the school year . . . if you have a problem, why not talk to us about it?'
You can't help me, Syaoran thought ruefully. Not unless you can make it so that this is a world in which Sakura loves me.
"I'm all right, sir," was all he said.
Okioji gave Syaoran a sharp look which said he wasn't fooled, then sighed. "All right then. We'll send your transcript to Hong Kong within the week. Here's your clearance. I just think you shouldn't be leaving so quickly."
Syaoran nodded. "Thank you, sir." He stood up and picked up the light blue folder with his school papers in them, and walked towards the door.
"Will you go to your classroom tomorrow?"
"No, sir."
"But don't you want to say goodbye to your friends?" Okioji asked, puzzled. "Isn't there anyone special you want to say goodbye to?"
There is, Syaoran thought, but it will be better for her and for me if I just vanish from her life.
"No, sir."
"You may go then."
And Syaoran strode out into the deepening darkness of the early evening, which swallowed him almost lovingly, erasing all trace of him.
xXxSxSxXx
Continues in Part Three: Into the Light
Please feel free to speculate as to the ending; I'd love to know what you think, and thanks for the reviews (see how fast I updated, ahead of my self-imposed deadline? XD haha shameless)! Part 3 will be up just a bit after Syaoran's birthday, so please stay tuned.
