Darkness Falls, Chapter Three (The End)

Author: swallowingtears

Disclaimer: No profit is being made off this fanfiction. No challenge is intended towards CLAMP, the rightful owners of the characters here.

Warnings: Only for language.

Genre: Romance/Angst.

Summary: She knew that voice."I want you," he blurted. "I won't lose to him. You . . . you're mine." Sakura stays late one evening at school and hears a desperate confession.

Previously: 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.

XxSxSxXx

Part Three: Into the Light

When Sakura arrived at her gate, disheveled and with eyes red from crying, Tomoyo knew everything they had planned had gone terribly wrong.

She ran to open the gate herself, and Sakura had tumbled into a sobbing heap in her arms. She'd helped her friend into the house, and once in the safety of Tomoyo's bedroom, served Sakura tea and her favorite chocolate chip cookies. It worked; the distraught girl calmed down long enough to tell her what had happened at school earlier.

". . . and I d-drove him away, I c-called him by Syaoran's name and I . . . Oh Tomoyo-chan, what if? What if he . . . he was the one . . . I so wanted him to be Syaoran, Tomoyo-chan, I . . . "

Sakura was crying hard because her confusion and longing kept telling her it was Syaoran, but then it didn't make sense. Why would he behave that way, after all? He was always calm, quiet, and stoic; the emotional, distraught boy who had tried so hard to reach her reminded her so much of Syaoran when he was upset, but could he truly be that upset over her?

Lessons learned with Yukito Tsukishiro had taught her to stop projecting, to avoid pointless wishful thinking. And yet . . .

". . . he sounded like Syaoran, he did, and (sob) I wish it were him! But he c-couldn't be like that, right? It was just m-me, forcing my feelings on some other boy . . . I mean, he d-did cry when I said Syaoran's name . . ."

Tomoyo stroked Sakura's bobbed hair and cast about her head quickly. Something in Sakura's story was nagging at her but she couldn't pick up on it, not now when the most important thing was to calm Sakura down. It did not do to let Sakura cry herself out; Tomoyo had long since learned that Sakura thought better when she was calm. And so, talking in her most soothing voice, Tomoyo took Sakura through the story again, clarifying details, and helping Sakura come to a slow realization of what she wanted the most.

I want that boy to have been Syaoran.

xXxSxSxXx

He's not here.

Sakura fought the urge to keep twisting in her seat. Class wasn't the same when Syaoran wasn't around; his reassuring presence was missing, and it was like a gaping hole was behind her, where his seat was.

What had happened? Sakura's heart kept leaping each time she thought, could it have been Syaoran who was in here with me the other day?

In an age of Internet connections, cell phones, and openness, Syaoran Li was a notable exception; a private person, he didn't go for Facebook, didn't have an online presence aside from his school email. Sakura had his cell number, but she didn't know if she had the right to call him.

Oh if I were American! Sakura found herself wishing. Over there people called each other freely without fear of protocol or offense. Friends called friends all the time in America, Tomoyo had told her; they called for any reason, and even those who weren't close didn't find it odd for a casual acquaintance to call out of the blue.

But she'd only called Syaoran thrice in three years—each conversation a short, silence-punctuated one. It must be heaven to be so casual with a friend, without need for levels of formality or for last names or for other such concerns.

But what happened during homeroom at the end of the school day would force her into action. Sensei Yoshiyuki Terada, normally a cheerful teacher, looked at his class mournfully, his eyes resting on the empty chair behind Sakura Kinomoto. It was the last period of the day, and the students were restless, all itching to go home or out to play. He finished taking the roll call, then shook his head when he noted that Li Syaoran was absent.

"Hiiragizawa-kun?" he called.

"Yes, Sensei?"

"Here is the key to Li-kun's locker. He's transferred out, and gave no word on the disposition of his effects."

Gasps and whispers spread through the class, but Tomoyo Daidouji immediately looked at Sakura, who looked like all the blood had drained out of her face.

"Why . . . why didn't he tell me?" she whispered.

A flabbergasted Eriol Hiiragizawa raised his hand. "He said nothing of this to me, Terada-sensei, and I'm one of his friends."

"I'm sorry," and Yoshiyuki Terada truly was; Li had been one of the better students, well-behaved and not a troublemaker.

"But sensei, why?"

"He gave no reason to Okioji-sensei, our guidance counselor, but it seems he has personal business to take care of back home."

"Sensei?" Sakura raised her hand tentatively. "Please, is he all right?"

From the way her voice quavered, Tomoyo knew how much the question had cost Sakura to ask.

Terada-sensei looked thoughtful. "I'm sorry, but I can't say." He cleared his throat, then, "Yamazaki-kun, that will be the last question. Go on."

"Sensei, he left a lot of stuff with us. I have his iPod, his books and stuff are in his locker, and . . ."

"You can try contacting him, but he did say he wasn't coming back for anything."

More whispers and muttering broke out, and Terada sensei rapped the table. "That's enough, students. Now on to the homeroom announcements . . ."

He didn't leave me with anything I can return, Sakura thought frantically. I need to see him, just to say goodbye, just to wish him well . . .

Wish . . .

What was it the boy last night had said?

"Please have a happy life . . ."

It can't be!

"Tomoyo-chan!" Sakura said; her voice rang overly loud in the classroom and their teacher turned to look.

"Is there a problem, Kinomoto-san?" he asked.

"No . . . Sorry, sensei," she said, bowing her head. But her overbright eyes told Tomoyo that she'd figured something out.

"Sometimes," Tomoyo said quietly so only Sakura could hear, "the question isn't what you want most and how selfish you're willing to be to get it, but how much we want something because that something—or someone—is very important to us, and they don't know it."

The rest of the class rushed to the doors as the bell rang, and Sakura stood up, taking her best friend's hand in hers. "I need your help," she pleaded.

"Say no more." The two girls rushed out the door, both praying they wouldn't be too late.

xXxSxSxXx

Syaoran rubbed at his eyes; it was dark and he was tired. He'd spent the whole day packing, taking a break only to get his clearance from school while everyone else was in class. Outside, beyond his open apartment door, seven neatly labeled and sealed boxes—clothes, furniture, books, and so on—were stacked in the hallway, ready for the van that would take them away in the morning, and he was working on the last box.

Amazing how much flotsam and jetsam a single person could accumulate; Syaoran found that putting things in the "Donate/Discard" box was harder than anything else he'd done. So many memories. So many things that meant so much to him.

But each time his mind came back to the girl he didn't want to leave.

Sakura.

He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. Had he been more in control, more confident, at least he would have had an answer. But he couldn't bear to go back to Seijyu anymore. He'd spent too long in its halls to be able to walk through them without thinking of her.

Maybe if I cry my eyes won't hurt, he thought with dark humor. But this last box was what hurt the most to pack. In it were his grade, middle, and high school yearbooks. He didn't even have to list the contents; he knew there was a teddy bear there that Sakura had made in class a few years ago and given to him after he'd shyly offered his bear to her. Several photos in their frames, wrapped in bubble wrap, held pictures of him in groups—and always in that group, Sakura was there. Three large frames had Sakura's yearbook photos for the last three years of high school—Eriol and Takashi had stolen the originals, had them blown up then given them to him for Christmas and his birthday.

Best of all were the little presents Sakura gave him every Christmas since they had been in grade school, all with their original wrappings preserved; there was a mechanical pencil, a chopstick case, and a set of erasers, among others. Her quiet thoughtfulness always made him smile.

Memories of the girl he loved but couldn't have.

For some reason, Takashi's silly quotes stuck to his head. "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," he once told Syaoran when a girl had turned Takashi down.

Then there was, "You can't feel the hurt if you've never suffered the pain." Syaoran had no idea where that one had come from.

But the words that hurt most were simple: "I love you." And he'd been completely unable to tell Sakura of his feelings.

"So tell me this," Syaoran asked the empty room, "is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? But what if the other person never even knew?" Immediately he felt embarrassed. Why was he talking to himself?

"I must be stupid," he muttered. "No, I am stupid. I love her so much I can't think, and now I . . ."

Syaoran began to laugh, a hollow, bitter laugh that rang overloud in his near-empty apartment. "I am an idiot. I love her and I lost her because I myself blew my only chance with her! Look at me, saying more words in this room now than I ever did to her. Ha!" He leaned his forehead against the nearest wall.

"Love and loss . . . so they do go together, after all," he said.

The lights in his living room suddenly went off, and Syaoran frowned in annoyance; he'd packed his flashlight already. But he could hear someone closing his apartment door.

"Who's there?" he called out, and he dropped into a fighting stance after telling himself how stupid it was to even ask that question. Was it a robber?

"I wonder," a soft voice replied, "what it would be like if we could just love without losing."

A girl's voice.

"What?"

"You said you would never hurt me," she continued quietly as she stepped towards him; Syaoran was frozen on the spot, because if his ears weren't deceiving him, this was her voice.

"I . . . what?"

She stopped in front of him, unerringly navigating his empty living room to where he was standing, and placed a hand on his arm.

"You're hurting me now," she said softly. "You didn't even say goodbye. How can I have a happy life if you're not in it?"

Sakura?

A light clicked on, a tiny pocket torch. Pink, no less. Sakura's hurt eyes looked up at him.

"I'll ask you again. You said you would never hurt me, just the other day. But then when I came to class the next day, you weren't there, then this afternoon we heard that Li Syaoran was transferring out." Sakura clutched at his shirt. "Do you know how much you hurt me with that?"

"I . . ."

The light clicked off. "I felt like someone had punched a hole through me. Here," and Sakura placed her hand on her chest, above her heart. "And do you know why? Because I've always loved you. There, I've said it—what I thought I would never get a chance to say."

From her hitching breath and nasal tone, he realized she was about to cry. "You wished for me to have a happy life, back on that camping trip in May. And you said it again the other day. That's how I was sure it was you, when I finally worked it out." She let out a tiny giggle.

"Wh . . ."

"I was in the dark," Sakura said. "I thought I knew you, that I saw you for who you are. You showed me a part of you I've never seen, and even if it scared me . . . All the time I was wishing it was you in the classroom with me, and it was you after all. If only I'd known!"

"Y-you wanted it . . . to be me?" he asked wonderingly.

"Yes!" Her voice was loud, though it quavered. "I couldn't see what was in front of me because I thought I didn't . . . Why did you do that anyway?"

He ran his hands through his hair. "I . . . I wanted to say something to you, but I kind of . . . lost the nerve."

What an understatement, he scolded himself. You scared her instead!

"You kissed me," Sakura said softly.

"I . . . Sorry . . ."

"Don't be!" Her tone was vehement. "I felt your feelings in that kiss! But if you leave, that makes it all a lie, doesn't it?"

Unable to think of anything to say, Syaoran reached out tentatively for her shoulder, following the line of her arm to find her. She caught his hand and nuzzled it with her cheek. "Why? Why would you do that then leave?"

"You . . . I didn't mean to hurt you," Syaoran whispered as he touched her cheek tenderly. "I just thought . . . you liked him . . . Todoh A-akira . . ."

She chuckled bitterly. "Is that it? You thought I was going to say yes? When you didn't react after Tomoyo-chan and I talked about Akira-kun in front of you, I thought you didn't care about me at all. But when you kissed me . . . when you said those words . . . I knew I had to find you. I'm sorry it took me some time to realize it was you. If you'd just reacted when we started talking in front of you . . . I thought it would never work!"

"In . . . in front of me?" Syaoran repeated stupidly.

"I just wanted to know what you thought of me," Sakura said, and he felt a tear creep past his hand; he stroked her cheek with her thumb, brushing away the tear.

"Sorry," he said. "If I knew . . . I just . . . You wanted to know what I thought?"

She chuckled softly; he was, after all, talking rather silly. "Yes, 'cause you never say much." She leaned her head on his chest. "Are you really leaving now?"

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I . . . But you . . . Do you want me to?"

She giggled. "Li-kun . . ."

"No. Syaoran," he said abruptly. "Call me Syaoran."

Sakura gasped. No one else called him by his name.

"Syaoran," she breathed softly.

That one word, two syllables . . . they floated past his heart where something like a light had been kindled.

He felt her arms wrap around his waist, and he drew her closer, holding her in his arms.

"I'm sorry . . . I just . . . If I'd known what you wanted, I would have . . ." And he lost his nerve.

"Would have?" Sakura prompted gently.

"Would have . . . let you know . . . I didn't want you to . . . be with Todoh," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I . . ." He took a deep breath, then, "Because . . . Iloveyou," the words rushed out. "So much . . ."

Sakura stilled, and Syaoran was terrified he'd scared her off.

"I'm sorry . . ."

"Stop saying that," Sakura said. "Please stop apologizing. But please . . . say it again. For me."

Syaoran bent down so he could whisper in her ear. "I love you."

"My name," she said, as she choked back a sob. "Add my name, please."

Reverently, he obeyed. "I love you, Sakura." He could repeat it all day if she wanted to hear it.

She giggled, but it was mixed with a sob. "Do you know how often I wished I would hear that from you?"

"So . . . I mean, I . . ."

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"We've both said it," and her tone was playful. "Something comes next, after 'I love you.' Don't you know?"

For that he didn't need a cue. He didn't need the light either; he bent down and, guided by his instincts, he claimed her lips with his.

Those romantic songs lied, they both thought. The first kiss wasn't the best, and neither was the second.

All of them were.

xXxSxSxXx

"What do you mean you tried to transfer out? The rumors were true?" Outraged, Eriol folded his arms and glared at Syaoran the next day. "You didn't even tell us! And we didn't see you at the usual corner where we all meet to go to school. We couldn't get in touch, you just disappeared off the face of the earth!"

"Was kinda busy," Syaoran muttered, blushing. The boys in the classroom were clustered around him, demanding to know why he'd vanished the past two days, and he'd made the mistake of taking out his clearance from his satchel so he could return it to the principal before class started. Eriol had seen it, and things went downhill from there.

"Busy? And you didn't even have time to tell your friends, the ones who love you the most? Ah, Li-kun, you are the worst," Yamazaki clutched at his heart to dramatize his feelings.

"I . . ." What Syaoran was going to say vanished when he heard someone call, "Syaoran-kun!" from the door.

"Syaoran?" Eriol raised his brows and glanced at the person who had called Syaoran's name.

"Since when does Sakura-san call you by your name and we don't?" he asked pointedly.

Sakura bounced to Syaoran's side and kissed his cheek; he stood up, took her hand, and returned her kiss gently as she giggled happily.

"Since I kept a promise I made to her," was all he said to Eriol.

"Shall we go to the principal's office, Sakura?" he asked. "I've got papers to return and a readmission letter to submit, along with an apology."

"And whose fault was that?" Sakura playfully taunted.

"All mine," was Syaoran's cheerful response.

"Okay, let's go then!"

As the two walked out of the classroom, hand in hand, one boy whistled and Yamazaki blinked as he said, "Whoa."

"Did you know about this?" he asked Eriol.

"About what? When those two stopped dancing around each other and became a couple?" Eriol took off his glasses and rubbed his temples.

"Yeah. I mean . . . am I the only one who missed something here?"

Eriol crossed his arms and grinned. "I'm just as much in the dark as you are. But I'm sure that whatever happened will make a great story."

The End

xXxSxSxXx

Thanks to those who reviewed anonymously!

Whoever's been adding me to communities, I owe you a special thank you for helping me reach out to more readers! Please do keep adding me to your communities!

I owe boreum dal a debt of thanks for giving me the elements for this writing challenge and for helping shape it. Originally it was meant to be part of the next chapter of "The Accidental Playboy" until emo Syaoran went and did something else entirely, demanding a separate story for him and Sakura (haha). I didn't want the whole thing to go to waste, so here's the threeshot that resulted from me trying to break through writer's block.

Challenges are fun, and if you'd like one, just PM me with a genre and I'll send you one! While I can't guarantee I can beta or read through it (sorry, working girl putting in OT to move apartments yet again), I gladly give away those ideas to anyone who asks.