Tattooed

Summary: "I've lost everything to drugs, do you know that?" Sakura told him with tears in her eyes. "The funny thing is I've never even touched a drug in my life and yet it destroyed me. It took everything." She turned to face him then. "Please, don't let it take you away from me. I won't be able to handle it, not this time, not again." S x S.

Author's Note: Fashion Fairy 26, Lisa Note, lhaine07, xXBlossomofShadowsXx, Gina, SweetSeductionCherryB, deadflo:

I wouldn't change a thing. Trust me, life's been hard. I'm having a shit day. But I wouldn't change it. None of it.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

xxxx.

Our favorite place we used to go
The warm embrace that no one knows
The loving look that's left your eyes
That's why this comes as no, as no surprise

- No Surprise/Daughtry

"Tell me about how it's been." Kaho had asked as soon as Syaoran took a seat. He sighed before answering.

"Not so good,"

"How much have you wanted to smoke?"

"Ten, Kaho," Syaoran looked scornful while saying the number. "A big perfect ten,"

Kaho leaned over the table and looked him in the eye. "I know a good facility you can check into ASAP."

Syaoran didn't think to refuse.

"Is that what you think I need?" he asked, unsure now of his own self control. He'd rated his urge a ten, hadn't he?

"I can advice you on what I think you need, but I could never tell you what you need better than you can. What do you think?" she asked him as she took off her glasses. Syaoran shrugged, wondering himself. Is that what he needed to do? Rehab? Was he that far gone? He wasn't so sure he could be a good judge of that anymore.

"Think about it, then." Kaho suggested. "It's a good time to do so. You'll be done with the Exhibit in two days, and then you'll get your bachelor's and master's. If you think you need professionals handling you, that group therapy hasn't been helpful enough, then so be it."

Syaoran felt defeated. His face must have shown his disappointment.

"It's better to ask for help than to relapse, Syaoran. Be strong, and proud, that you were brave enough to ask for it."

Syaoran picked up his bag and left then, informing her he'd be missing the next session.

*.*

Tomoyo asked Sakura something that she didn't catch as they walked with their cycles back home from the river. That weekend, Sakura had shown Tomoyo her new way of relaxation. Tomoyo had taken to it instantly.

"Sakura?"

"What'd you say?"

"I asked you if you're going to Syaoran's Exhibit?"

Pig tails. Red scrunchies. Black and white school uniform.

"Will you be coming to my PTA meeting, daddy?" she'd asked her father over dinner, a few nights after Touya had gone off to college.

"Daddy?"

She remembered his eyes, translucent and red, as they dilated and his skin blanched.

He'd looked right through her.

"Daddy? Daddy?"

"Sakura?"

Sakura blinked twice before realizing she hadn't heard Tomoyo again. Or had she?

"What'd you say, Tomoyo? Sorry, I'm kind of distracted today."

Tomoyo sighed. "Are you going?"

"Where?"

"To Syaoran's showcasing,"

Sakura sighed. "I don't know if I should be there."

"I'm sure he wants to see you there. You owe him that much, at least."

Did she really owe him anything at all?

"Well, I'm just letting you know that I have to go." She pulled to a halt and pulled up her long black hair into a knot as the sun rose quietly over the cold, white city of Glasgow.

"I know you do."

Somewhere, some part of Sakura was letting her know that she had to go too.

*.*

"You know something strange?" Jordan was speaking this time, his eyes downcast and his hood up. "The strangest thing, in fact, is the urge to call your loved ones when you're desperate for a drink, a smoke, the high. It's so strange how we start wanting to be closer to them, how we regret pushing them away, how everything's so... distant all of a sudden, when you meant it to be that way, when you yourself made the decision to push away.

"You know the best and worst part? Moms are angels. They weren't lying about that."

He stopped speaking after that, as if that was supposed to make all the sense in the world. As if that one line alone was supposed to mean something more than life itself.

Syaoran felt the pang in his chest, realizing how closely he'd connected to Jordan's words until the part about mothers had come up. He wanted to say something, contradict it, and tell the world how untrue it could be. Was it just him who was cursed to being motherless, weren't there others out there? Others who could understand... others who could relate? Others who could confirm that he wasn't the only one whose mother had lost interest in?

He held onto the words on the tip of his tongue as tightly as he could.

Not always.

He closed his eyes when Rita started to speak.

Not always.

*.*

"So, I heard dad called you."

"Hmm,"

"What're you planning on doing?"

"What I've always done."

"Sakura,"

"Touya."

"Fine, be that way. Just don't do something you may regret later."

"That sounds more like a threat,"

"He misses you, Sakura."

"He missed my Graduation, Touya."

"He wants to know you again. Try, again."

"Yeah? Most fathers know what degrees their daughters have by default."

"Sakura, you're being difficult. It doesn't have to be this difficult."

"You know I forgave him, Touya. I forgave him a long, long time ago. Just because I forgave the man doesn't mean I have to make the same mistakes again."

Sigh.

"He doesn't even call me on my birthday anymore. I don't even think he remembers."

"He's been through a lot, Sakura. Think about how you'd feel if you lost your love, your other half, your soul mate."

"Soul mates are a stretch, even for you."

"Fine, think of it as losing Syaoran then. You love the guy, don't you? How do you think you'd feel if you lost him?"

Silence.

"Sakura?"

Silence.

"Dear God, you guys broke up. Why didn't you... why didn't anyone tell me?"

Sigh.

"What do you want from me, Touya?"

"I want you to come home, Sakura."

"I'll think about it, alright? I'm hanging up, now."

"Don't think I didn't notice how you avoided talking about it. Don't forget, I know where the boy lives. Please don't make me beat it out of him."

*.*

Syaoran looked a little tense in his reflection as he adjusted his tie. Lillian had helped him dress up, along with Mei Ling. They'd chosen a black suit and white shirt, with a black tie.

He hadn't worn a tie in a long while. The last time he'd worn a suit was when they'd gone to dinner to Ebony and Ivory with Sakura and Tomoyo. Were they going to be there tonight?

Would Sakura be there?

"You look lovely, my friend." Lillian came to the bathroom and leaned by the door. "You clean up good."

Syaoran tried to smile. It came off as a nauseated look instead. Lillian sighed and walked over to him.

"Let me do the knot," she told him and went about the job. Easy as it was usually, that night the task had been a pain to perform. Syaoran didn't protest when she offered. Truth be told Syaoran had thought things would be awkward between the girl and him, now that... he'd rejected her. Things seemed fine. For that, Syaoran would be eternally glad. He wouldn't forgive himself if he hurt Lillian. She was stupid, and obnoxious, and a little off putting, but she was a good person.

The smell of musk and flowers was light, but present. Lillian had worn perfume. The lavender coloured evening gown then filled his vision.

"You look nice," he offered her a compliment. She nodded with a frown on her face, concentrating on the knot. With a pat to his chest, she gestured the finish of the knot.

"I've never done this before," Syaoran announced. "Show... lots of people my work."

Lillian patted his cheek then. "Get used to it, mate. This is just the beginning."

Syaoran followed Lillian out of the bathroom with his nerves on edge.

What he wouldn't give to just... ease the edge off a little.

Maybe he could get drunk after the Exhibit.

Who was he kidding? He wanted to get high and walk through the whole thing in a hazy blur and recollect it all the next day, instead of facing it in the present.

This was going to be the toughest day of his life.

*.*

People were bustling around Glasgow Hall like royalty, with their hairs done up and their jewels shining bright on their wrists, necks, ears. It was a sight for Sakura as she entered, suddenly regretting coming alone. Why'd she reject going with Mei Ling and Tomoyo again?

She didn't want to run into Syaoran. Not yet, anyway.

"Hello ma'am, and welcome to the Exhibit. Shall I escort you into the building?" a man in a red coat and trousers asked. Sakura shook her head, smiled and walked through the open doors, into the burst of colours splattered all over the canvases, hung proudly under dim lights on the walls. They seemed like stories, like pieces of life waiting to be told.

Sakura passed by many paintings, appreciating some, and passing by the others mindlessly. More than running into Syaoran, Sakura's skin felt as if alive as she awaited his paintings. Finally, she turned a corner, and entered a corridor along the walls of which were Syaoran's pride and joy. Sakura would know them anywhere, know the colour and duly used method anywhere. She stood transfixed on the first one.

"Weeping Rock," A man announced next to her in a low voice. His long black hair and monocle struck her odd, immediately making her alert. He was maybe fifty, or sixty, but she couldn't really tell. Sakura looked back at the painting, mesmerized.

"It's beautiful,"

"It looks like it's been painted while the artist was on the pavement himself does it not?" he asked her curiously as he brought a finger to his chin. Sakura realized that he was right. If judged correctly, the painting had been as though from someone's view point, like someone was watching it, painting it.

"It must've been an important night, if the artist were so insistent on bringing it to life. The rain looks rather brutal to be sitting in, uncomfortable even."

He couldn't have been more wrong. Syaoran had been high that night; he couldn't feel anything, see anything, or hear anything. Yet, every time he painted from that night, it all seemed so real, like it had really happened, like they'd met the way they had, like they'd parted like they had.

Would she be here tonight, the girl with the red hair?

"Come, let us move on."

Sakura looked at him dubiously.

"I am sorry, where are my manners? I am Clow Hiiragizawa, but you may call me Clow." He bowed respectfully. Sakura bowed back.

"I am Sakura,"

"Ah, a lovely name. I take it you hail from Japan?"

"Tomoeda, actually,"

"I see. I myself hail from Hong Kong, China, but I prefer my home be here, in Glasgow. I am very partial to the city, the rain, and the people. Have you been here very long?"

"A few years,"

He hummed in response and offered her his hand. Sakura couldn't do much else but take it. They walked through the corridor together, observing Syaoran's paintings one at a time. They passed by the one of her that Syaoran had painted while they were still together... it was painful to even look at it. Sakura turned away to the opposite wall and saw a door, half open, letting in large drops of rain. Through it came a sliver of light, bringing with it hope, it looked like.

Were all paintings so meaningful? Sakura asked herself. Were they all so... God!

"Very interesting," Clow stopped at a one of a woman. At first, Sakura had thought it was her. Her gasp was almost immediate, though, as she realized who it was.

It was Syaoran's mother.

"Something the matter?" he asked her. Sakura shook her head without a glance at him. The painting had been far too big a shock.

Had he found his mother after all? Had they made up, sorted things out?

"Lovely, isn't it?" Clow commented. "I think I'm going to make my bid on this one."

Sakura looked at him then.

"You find that strange? You may be right; the other paintings are worth far more. But this one, it has a certain grace in its sadness. The woman is clearly pained as she shields herself away with the umbrella. The black she wears, that adorns this painting, it signifies mourning, as though someone has just died. I might be wrong, but it looks like the artist is mourning the loss of this woman."

Sakura looked at him, perplexed at how the man had guessed so much without knowing Syaoran. Was art this deep? Were art collectors that good at guessing what went behind a painting, the story of its origins, the depths of its despairs?

"It is lovely," Sakura affirmed a minute later, after she'd gotten over her initial shock.

The next painting was one of a girl leaning into her own reflection, the mirror shattered, the umbrella red; the girl's face a mystery as the reflection is jarred. After that was the painting of a two balconies across a road, facing each other on a rainy day. Sakura smiled at that one. Syaoran didn't even bother masking the colours of their buildings, the structure of their balconies.

Next, and the last, was the painting of two lovers walking in the rain, their bodies far away from the viewer, but their love apparent.

"Ah, love." Clow had commented quietly as he adjusted his monocle. Sakura cleared her throat, realizing that was the end of their little excursion.

"Thank you for escorting me, Clow."

"It was my pleasure, dear Sakura."

Sakura left the corridor and searched for Syaoran, suddenly needing to give her appreciation to him, whether it mattered to him or not. Suddenly, she had all the answers. Suddenly, Glasgow didn't feel as much like home as it did two seconds ago.

It's no surprise I won't be here tomorrow

I can't believe that I stayed till today

QUESTION: What was your favourite CCS episode?

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