Chapter Fifty-Three

"You're back early," Seishirou remarked.

Syaoran glanced away. "I got tired."

"Not pushing yourself too hard, I hope."

He shook his head. "I just worked on the drills Kurogane-san taught me." Syaoran watched for any sign that his old teacher's name had upset Seishirou, but the dark-haired man just smiled. He's always smiling. Just like Fai used to smile.

"Any breakthroughs?"

He shrugged, not feeling much like conversation, and moved to the fire to warm himself. It wasn't that he was cold. He couldn't get cold the same way he'd used to. But he wasn't warm, and the heat coming off the fire was comforting, like a blanket to curl up in at night.

They went a few minutes without speaking, until Seishirou offered to let him try the broth he'd made for Fuuma. When Syaoran saw the pot was almost half empty, he refrained from asking if Fuuma had woken up. Seishirou would've mentioned it, if he'd wanted me to know. I shouldn't pry. "I'll try some," he agreed, taking the offered spoon and drawing the warm broth up to his lips.

The taste was similar to things he'd eaten before, but he noticed a change in the way he perceived flavor. He could pick out each ingredient. Rabbit was the most dominant, but he could detect oregano, thyme, a little bit of ginger, and a dozen other herbs he couldn't identify. "Where did you get all these spices?"

"I've traveled to many different worlds, and I've found that some of them don't have foods to my liking. I carry around spices so I can cook for myself. Did you like it?"

Syaoran nodded. Despite the sharp flavor the spices had lent the broth, the taste was warm and familiar. He remembered his father giving him something similar in their travels. Well, he gave the Other something like this, anyway. "I like most foods."

"Ah. Well, that's to be expected, traveling from such a young age."

"That was the Other," he said patiently, swallowing another spoonful.

"You don't have to—"

"I do. Because I'm not him, and he's not me."

"Trying to separate yourself from those memories is only going to cause you pain in the long run."

"But I didn't live that life. I didn't create those memories. If I allow myself to forget that . . . It'll be like I'm stealing that life away for myself."

"What your clone has turned into . . ."

"Is a monster, I know. And I'm going to stop him before he can do any more damage. But that time, when I was sealed away, still belongs to him."

"Why are the memories so important to you?"

Syaoran stared at the base of the flames and stuck a branch into the coals. "Why are memories so important to me?" he echoed, smiling faintly for a moment before turning somber. "The price the Other paid for the ability to travel through dimensions was his relationship with Princess Sakura. In order to pay that price, he forfeited any chance of having Sakura remember him, regardless of how many feathers he returned to her.

"I'd already been watching him for years, you see. I'd watched him fall into Clow with no memories of his own and very little in the way of basic knowledge. For years, I thought that, as much as I'd done to impart some of my own soul into him, he stood no chance of being whole. The princess and our father were the only people who meant anything to him. No offense," he added quickly, seeing the stifled reaction from Seishirou. "When he sacrificed the relationship he'd held so dear, when he put his life on the line to restore the rest of her memories . . . That was the first time I truly believed he could forge a heart of his own."

Seishirou was watching him intently now.

Syaoran sighed. "Memories aren't like little videos you can play back in your head. They aren't like photos or drawings that you put up on your wall. When you lose a memory, you lose all the emotional connections that went with it. Stealing memories without acknowledging their owner is like taking fragments of that person's heart and soul and using it for your own gain. That's why, even though he's a monster, even though he's caused me so much suffering, I acknowledge the memories as his."

It was quiet except for the soft crackling of the fire. After several minutes, Seishirou spoke. "You are wise beyond your years, Little Wolf. And even more honorable than I thought."

He felt his face flush. "It's nothing like that. It's just something I've been thinking about for a while now."

Another silence, this one shorter than the last. Seishirou stirred what little remained of the broth, the firelight glinting off his glass eye. "Why did you agree to travel with me?" Seishirou asked, picking up a thin branch and poking at the bed of embers. "I threatened your princess and I burned down an apartment building trying to force your hand. Why would you choose to come with me over your friends?"

Somehow, it seemed like a trick question. Does he want me to say I was sick of them, or that I was trying to do the right thing? Then again, both were true . . . He frowned, trying to recall what exactly had prompted him to go to Seishirou. "Fuuma-san's situation was more dire than the princess's," he said slowly. "Sakura would survive—and be happier—if I wasn't around, at least I thought so. When I found out Fuuma-san was dying . . . I would never have been able to forgive myself, if there was some way I could stop that from happening, and I chose not to help."

"So it wasn't out of any sort of loyalty to me?"

Another trick question. What kind of answer is he looking for? "If I hadn't been bound to Sakura, I would've agreed to help you without question. At the time, I was more loyal to them than I was to you. That was what made the decision so hard. If they hadn't . . . If they'd just acted like I was a person instead of . . . I mean, even if they'd treated me like they'd treated my clone, that would've been okay, but . . ."

"But they treated you like dirt."

"No," he said sharply, not realizing until he responded exactly why their treatment had bothered him. "They treated me like I was a ghost. Like I wasn't even there. And when they did acknowledge me, it was like they were talking to a complete stranger. I couldn't get any response out of them even if I tried. I couldn't make Sakura smile. Not once. So I thought . . ." He took a deep breath, steadying himself. It had been a long time since he'd laid his emotions bare for someone else. "I thought that things wouldn't change much for them, if I were to just disappear. I didn't want to die—I'm not suicidal—but I couldn't take it anymore.

"I didn't come to you because I was trying to do the right thing. All I wanted was to be around someone who could acknowledge that I was human. That I wasn't a monster."

Seishirou laid a hand on his shoulder. It was more than any of the others had ever given him.

"I wanted their approval so badly," he whispered. "I obeyed Kurogane-san without question. I went out of my way to avoid them because I knew they were uncomfortable when I was around. I agreed to keep up the search for Sakura's feathers. I did my best to do the right thing, and it still wasn't enough."

"You don't have to say anything else, if you don't want."

"I'm not done."He tried to remember where the conversation had started. "I could've handled it. I could've endured the silence. I could've endured the things I overheard from them. I could've taken it all, if Sakura had ever once smiled at me."

"You . . . care for her."

"I turned back time for her," he whispered, remembering the seal of death, remembering those years Sakura had lost forever. "I shouldn't have. I should've squashed what I felt for her and moved on. But I couldn't. She would've died, and nothing would've ever been okay again. That's why I did it. I turned back time, and it cost me dearly. I lost all the connections I might've forged with her. I lost any chance of having her look at me without thinking of the Other. Now I'm separated from her again, unable to protect her if something should happen, unable to see her face, except in those stolen memories. You could even go so far as to say I've lost her. She will never smile at me. I will never hear her laugh. I will never know what it's like to hold her. But she's alive, and that's enough."

He raised his eyes from the bed of embers and looked up to his teacher. Seishirou tousled his hair, just as he'd done the day he'd left the others. "She means that much to you?"

"She means everything to me."

"Do you love her?"

He flinched. "It's not my place."

"Do you love her or don't you?"

"I . . ." Why do you want to see her smile? some part of his mind asked. Why is that so important to you? You would kill for her, die for her, suffer for her. Is that love? Is that why you can't stop thinking about her, even now? Is that why you faltered when you tried to leave? Syaoran bit his lip, the counterarguments ringing in his ears. If there was ever anyone she could love, it was the Other. There is no place for you in her heart. Seeing your face would just remind her of what she's lost.

So why? Why feel anything for her? It's not my place to worry about her. Even the Other walked a precarious line by having such close contact with her. All I ever did was twist time. I saved her once, when the Other saved her a dozen times. I have no right. He tilted his head up to look at Seishirou. The dark-haired man stared back at him, leaning forward in anticipation of his answer. Syaoran looked down.

There is no place for me. But if I did love her . . . He lifted one hand so it rested over his heart. The muscle fluttered under his fingertips. If I did, if I were able to . . . would things change? Get better? Or does it even matter? Do I love her?

It wasn't a matter of whether or not he loved her, he decided. He knew the answer to that. It was a matter of whether or not he had the guts to say it. The guts to take her hand, he thought, with a note of finality. When he spoke, he knew it was the truth. "Of course I love her."

Author's Note:

Yay! Syaoran has stopped lying to himself!

I suppose I should clarify some things about Sakura, now that it's become relevant to the plot. The Sakura I'm using in this story is the one who has been traveling with the group since the beginning of the series. It's been a while since I've read the whole series, and last time I tried, my computer got swamped with viruses, so I'm a little hazy on some of the events that happened after the Tokyo Arc. Anyway, since my story is technically an AU, I'm writing this as if Syaoran believes he's with the original Sakura, and that there was no cloning involved for her. It makes for a little bit of inconsistency, I suppose, but I feel like worrying about it right now would confuse me and hinder my writing. This changes Syaoran's internal monologues a little bit, given that he's only interested in pleasing the Sakura his clone traveled with, but it's the only way I can think to work the plot with what I understand of the series.

Anyway, thanks to all my loyal reviewers. You guys inspire me to write more every day, and your support has kept me going even through bouts of writer's block. Hope to hear from you all soon, and thanks for reading.