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, lhaine07, Randomsam123, xXBlossomofShadowsXx, ginnna, deadflo:

My role model's have varied over the past few years. From Gandhi, to my dad, to my little sister... have quite a few. Right now, though, it's my mom. God, there's a bit I have to learn from that woman.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

xxxxii.

There's a realm above the trees,

where the lost are finally found.

Touch your feathers to the breeze

and leave the ground.

- To The Sky/Owl City

An envelope marked to Kaho Mizuki had appeared on her desk one early morning when she came into work. Kaho opened it patiently, not really knowing what to expect.

Kaho,

I'm going home with my sister. I know what you said, I haven't forgotten it, and I will contact you if I need to. I give you my word.

Thank you. For everything.

Syaoran

Kaho had simply folded the letter back and placed it into the envelope.

That, she hadn't been expecting. No, not really. She wondered if she should call Touya and tell him about it. She would have to. The boy was leaving the group therapy without approval.

More than anything, she hoped this trip back home was everything Syaoran needed. No, it was more like she knew. She knew it would be everything he needed.

Now all Syaoran had to do was take the chance life was handing over to him on a silver plate and use it diligently.

*.*

"Yue will see you now, Mr. Li." The kind, short, black haired woman told Syaoran as he stood staring at the picture of that year's advertisement of the Exhibit.

Sponsored by Clow, it said at the end of the large elegantly done poster. Syaoran sighed and walked to Yue's office. He opened the door and found Yue standing over some documents, looking rather ruffled.

"Good morning, Syaoran."

"Hey," Syaoran responded half heartedly. Somehow, that poster had caught his eye and his mind was still on it.

"I believe this is yours," Yue told him while handing over a cheque. Syaoran barely glanced over it before he spoke again. "All your paintings have been bid on and sold. Congratulations."

Syaoran nodded. "Thank you. Who bid on them?"

"That's something I can't disclose, I'm afraid."

Syaoran raised an eyebrow.

Huh.

"That will be all, then, Syaoran." Yue dismissed him. Syaoran was suddenly glad for the man with the strange features being so outright about his wishes and commands. Before leaving, though, Syaoran had to know one thing.

"Was Clow there last night?" he paused when Yue looked up at him. "Did he come?"

"I wouldn't know, Syaoran. I, myself, wasn't present. Why?" he asked Syaoran, his eyes narrowing in curiosity.

"No reason."

Then, he left.

*.*

"I can't believe you've decided to leave the country over an ex-girlfriend." Lillian started as soon as Syaoran had opened the door.

"Hello to you too,"

Lillian turned around, her expression far from amused. "Tell me something, though. While you're here abstaining from love and life, what's your ex-girlfriend doing out there for you, other than hanging on to an ex-boyfriend and leaving the country to do God knows what."

Syaoran suddenly didn't like the way she was speaking about Sakura.

"All she cared about was herself; leaving you the way she did before the Exhibit without anything to help you by. God, she didn't even stop to think what it would have done to your career!"

Syaoran didn't speak.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Lillian asked, probably having sensed his irritation finally.

"I don't ever remember bitching out my girlfriend to you." He started in a low voice. "Somehow, I don't like what this has done to your impression of Sakura. Whatever it is, it's between her and me, and you need to learn that she's still the teacher that showed you the way. None of this changes that."

Lillian took a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just so annoyed—"

"I know."

"And so jealous that she still affects you this way."

Syaoran sighed. "She is still the same Sakura that helped you out when you needed it."

"I know."

Somewhere outside throughout the city, a snowstorm had begun, slowly at first, and then building its way into the city, the snow cold and wet against its roads, its pavements, its buildings and its people. Somehow, it brought the cold into the apartment, no matter how high the temperature had been on the heater.

"I like how you called me the night before instead of at the airport tomorrow. Avoiding emotional drama in public?"

"We won't be going to the airport."

"Oh?"

"It's a private airfield."

"My, my. Now all you need is a cave and a bat-mobile." Lillian grinned at him. Syaoran grinned back. She then came forward and hugged him, somehow more cautious than the last time, as if she was afraid of him.

"This feels like goodbye." She whispered.

"It isn't forever. I'll come back."

"Hmm,"

Through dinner they sat quietly, munching on their food without many words exchanged.

"I'll get a cellphone if you keep in touch," she told him slyly. Syaoran couldn't help but laugh.

"This I'd love to see."

"You watch. I'm going to even get that latest apple phone thing. The I-feel?"

"I-touch, Lillian."

They laughed together. "That just sounds wrong." Lillian commented.

"Send me your number." He told her with finality, bidding farewell with a grip to her shoulder. She nodded and walked off, into the dark corridor and down the stairs.

As he watched her walk away, he realized how Lillian had suggested keeping in touch. He thought of how he'd suggested it to Sakura, of the slight shake of her head saying no to the idea.

*.*

Two days after, in the light of early morning, on Christmas morning, to be exact, Syaoran had gone over to Sakura's house with a familiar envelope in hand. He knew he had to let her know he was leaving, if not have his goodbye. He wondered if he should have brought along a letter instead of the sketch. After all, she'd been pretty insistent on him having it. What the use of that, though? Syaoran knew Sakura's face inside out, and he would never forget it. He would never forget her.

He placed the envelope gently on her welcome mat and stood against the door, wondering if she'd heard him outside, skulking around like some thief. There was no chance of that happening. Sakura would be sleeping, then rush to get ready for work. The woman was a clean freak, but couldn't save her life by waking up early for work.

Was this enough? Leaving behind an old rotten roughly drawn sketch as a goodbye, was it enough? He couldn't be sure if anything would be enough. He'd give her anything to avoid the goodbye altogether, maybe even decades off his life. He knew it'd be futile, though. Sakura was pretty clear about what she wanted, and she did not want him.

The walk to the cab waiting downstairs was a long one, and somehow a gloomy one. The snow had been relentless, if not erratic, over the past few days. He was surprised they could even travel by flight during this snow storm.

"Ready?" Mei Ling asked as he dragged himself over to the car. Literally.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked again. "With work and all that, I mean."

"Xiao Lang, I'm fine. I've found work already and I have to get back to Hong Kong anyway, so don't worry your sorry ass about it."

"What about Tomoyo?" he asked warily.

"What about her?"

"You'd be leaving her."

"That doesn't mean it's the end of the world."

"Isn't this going to make things difficult?"

"We're adults, Xiao Lang. We'll figure something out."

Syaoran didn't question her, or himself, anymore. The decision had been made to go back home and now it was time to see it through. Yes, he had his doubts still. Where would he go from there? What work would he get? What about his college certificates, his things? Mei Ling had assured him that all would be taken care of. Even so, he felt restless somehow. Like he was forgetting something, even though he knew he wasn't. Leaving Glasgow was harder than he'd thought it would be.

During takeoff Mei Ling held his hand. He never did like flying, even if it was on their private jet.

"It'll be okay," she told him in a low voice. "Think of it like going home after a good, long vacation."

Only it hadn't been a vacation, Syaoran thought, it had been home too. Home, where the weather was always cold, was that apartment across Sakura's, the apartment where he'd learned to live, learned to let go.

Syaoran wondered if his mother could feel that he was leaving. Mothers and sons were supposed to have that kind of relationship, weren't they? Some kind of maternal instinct, a sixth sense exclusive to the maternal bond that all those fairytales talked about? No, apparently not. He wondered what she must be doing, what she did for living, if she thought about him, if she wanted him in her life. They were the usual thoughts that sprang up in his mind when he thought of his mother. The irony of it all, he'd gone to Glasgow for one woman and then left it for another.

The familiar rustle of the jet was heard as the pressure rose, his ears clogging up. The sun had finally risen and sparked its way through the clouds. The jet moved forward as he bucked into his seat. It then picked up speed, the seat quivering at the sensation. They were air borne in less than two seconds after that.

Syaoran said a prayer, and asked God for mercy, as he left his former home, his former life, his former love. Somehow, he felt like his ties had been severed, like he was sprouting wings and flying himself. Somehow, just a simple takeoff, had freed him from the shackles of several things all at once. He'd wondered when those shackles had clasped on in the first place.

*.*

At the gateway of the small airfield, after luggage had been collected, Syaoran stood around disoriented, wondering where he was.

He was home. His real home, with his family, home. What did that even mean anyway, real home?

Mei Ling steered him out onto the streets as the Toyota steered in front them, the doors opening from the inside. Syaoran couldn't keep the smile from his face as his nephew's face came into view.

"Hey Caden,"

"Hey Uncle Lang."

"Scooch over, Caden. Let your uncle in the car at least?" came a very high pitched voice Syaoran hadn't heard in over a year.

"Sheifa?" he asked, unable to see her past Caden's tall and broad form.

"Yes, we can greet each other later. We're wasting time here." Feimei ordered.

"Please listen to your sister, Xiao Lang, and get into the car before we all lose our minds." Fuutie's small yet shrill voice came. Syaoran couldn't stop smiling.

"I can't believe you all came to pick me up!" he exclaimed as he got in the front with Wei who simply bowed. Syaoran bowed back. It was good to see old Wei.

"Well, our brother's finally home, isn't he? Of course we came to pick him up!"

"What about me, you doofuses?"

"Yes, Mei, we didn't forget you either." Fuutie said, then shrieked after that. Syaoran looked over his shoulder and found the two in a hug. Feimei was laughing. Caden watched in amusement. Sheifa poked at Mei's stomach from the backseats.

"Welcome back, Master Li." Wei had said before shuffling into first gear.

Somehow, it felt like he'd never left.

*.*

"So tell us how this year was in college," Feimei asked during lunch.

"College was fine. To be honest, it was a blur."

"Oh yeah?" his little niece quipped now. "What did you do this year then?"

Syaoran's eyes averted to Mei Ling's, who simply smiled.

"I don't know. Time just flew by, Ai. I missed you, though." He told her lovingly, with a pinch to her little cheek.

"I missed you too, Uncle Lang. Did you bring me back presents?"

Conversation with an eight year old was also so easy. No, he hadn't brought back anything. He hadn't thought about his niece and nephew in months, to be honest, and he felt guilty. Clearly they spent a good deal of time on thinking about their pitiful uncle. He promised to take her shopping the next day, maybe even buy her some jewellery. He'd bought her love and forgiveness with that. It was that simple.

Syaoran knew that in the adult world, it was never that simple.

"What're you doing after lunch, brother?" Sheifa asked him.

"Not much. I thought about getting some sleep."

"You can sleep when you're dead. We're going racing."

Syaoran shook his head. With any luck, his sister would kill him.

*.*

So, on that dull rainy afternoon, Syaoran and Sheifa set out with their helmets to bring out their go-karts. A long time ago, when his father had still been alive, Syaoran had convinced him into buying him and Sheifa a pair after they'd been go-karting in Tokyo. It'd been a wild, adrenaline filled evening of racing through the race course. While his father had been concerned about safety, he never really denied Syaoran anything.

So in front of him as the garage doors rose was the matching pair of black and yellow go-karts that looked just as bright and shiny as the day they'd arrived.

"Don't they look beautiful?" his sister asked him.

Syaoran could do nothing but buckle in. Sheifa plugged in her I-pod and gave him the thumbs up he was so familiar with before keying the engine.

God it was good to be home.

Through their own driveway they sped, Sheifa ahead sometimes, and the others, Syaoran. Round and round, till sunset, they raced, many times over. It felt like they were making up for lost time. It felt like over the rev of the engine, over the screech of tyres, he knew his sister all over again.

"Same time tomorrow," he told her as he got out, his breath in pants.

Sheifa let out her long, auburn hair from the helmet and grinned.

"You'd better count on it, brother."

Syaoran wondered if Sakura had ever raced in a go-kart.

So bid the forest floor goodbye

as you race the wind

and you take to the sky.

QUESTION: Do you believe in magic?

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