Author's Notes:

We return to the manga for this chapter, so don't be surprised if you see some familiar scenes. I have a pretty good idea where I'm going with this fic, and we still have some time to continue building the relationship before the plot kicks in at full force.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Coils of cotton wrapped around Syaoran's arm, yanking him off-balance.

He could hear the others, each facing off against their own opponents. The clang of steel striking steel alerted him to Kurogane's position, and beyond that, the rattle of chains marked the spot where Fai had seized his target's ankle.

I have to hold my ground, Syaoran thought, swiping at the bindings with the tournament-approved daggers. The fabric ripped, then returned to its master. His opponent drew back, manipulating the folds of fabric as if they were ordinary appendages. Syaoran didn't know why someone would use ribbons as a weapon, but apparently the people of Infinity were willing to try anything to win their chess matches.

It doesn't matter, he thought, sidestepping the shifting fabric as it shot toward him. His reflexes were getting faster, a product of regular tournaments, but still, he felt as if their progress in this world had stagnated. Mokona had claimed there was a feather, and they were all waiting for it to appear, yet time refused to move forward.

His opponent jumped back, anticipating his move. Syaoran pressed forward, cutting away at the ribbons even as they ensnared his wrist. Another piece twined around his ankle. An abrupt yank slammed his body into the checkerboard floor. The man controlling the ribbons lifted his hand and brought it down, fingers curling into a fist.

Syaoran rolled, shoulder hitting hard. The man's fist collided with the floor where he'd been lying half a second ago. There, he thought, bringing one of his daggers around. With a decisive jerk, he severed his opponent's collar. The man reeled back, a growl rising from his throat as the referee called him back to his side of the board.

A thrill of victory shot through Syaoran's chest. He turned; Kurogane's opponent lay in a heap of blood-spattered ribbons, but he was still wriggling around, trying to regain his bearings.

Syaoran wondered how the ninja knew how to stop just short of killing someone, then decided he didn't want to think about it.

Fai finished off his enemy by shredding apart their spiked collar, then stepped back, swinging his weapon in an elegant circle before letting it fall to his side.

"Black Team wins!" the announcer blared. Syaoran let out a breath and looked back at Sakura, sitting inside her egg-shaped seat. She was leaning back slightly, as if she'd been perched on the edge of her seat throughout the match, but she wore the same stoic mask she'd had since the first chess match. She folded her arms in front of her and stood up, balancing awkwardly on her crippled leg. In less than a second, Fai was at her side, propping her up.

There was always a moment, when he saw the two of them working in tandem like that, when he envied their easy companionship. They understood each other without words, standing together as the spectators rained praise upon them.

And there was always a moment, after that first sharp stab of envy, that Syaoran felt guilty for resenting their closeness. I have no right, he thought, walking back toward the elevator. She's not even the Sakura I fell in love with. It shouldn't bother me.

The floor shifted beneath them, and they descended. Syaoran massaged his arms where the cloth had coiled around them. His fingers tingled as blood flow returned to them.

"You all right?" Kurogane asked.

He looked up, then back at his arm. He could see the indents where the cloth had compressed his skin, but already those lines were fading. "I'm fine. I don't think there will be any bruising." His eyes flickered to the other side of the elevator, where Fai and Sakura were engaged in quiet conversation. "Thanks," he murmured.

Kurogane shrugged, wiping the blood off his vest with a rag he'd pulled from his pocket. Seconds later, they reached the lower level, where they'd left their belongings. An attendant waited just inside their prep room, her face as smooth as sculpted granite. "There's someone who wishes to see you," she said, her black eyes flashing to each of their faces. "If you would please exit through this door as soon as you are ready, you can meet him."

Tension rippled through their group, dissipating only when the woman left. A silent agreement passed between them, and they hurried into their separate stalls to put their regular clothes back on. Syaoran stripped off the chains they'd attached to him for the match, discarding them in the bin on the floor before stepping out.

Sakura remained in her tournament garb, holding onto her spiked collar with both hands. She gave no indication that she'd noticed him as he stepped toward her. He considered speaking to her, but his throat had closed up, the words trapped inside. She wasn't his Sakura, but he still wanted to know what she was thinking about.

Still cared about her even though she was only the image of the one he'd fallen for so long ago.

The others returned before he could say a word, and they left the prep room through the door the black-eyed woman had indicated before.

The air felt heavy as they walked into the lobby. People wandered through the vast room in droves, some heading toward other arenas, some heading home. Chess matches were the most popular form of entertainment in this city, and were treated with the same sense of awe as a traveling circus would be treated in Clow. The difference was that, in this game, it didn't seem to matter if you fatally wounded your opponent—doing so only made the sport more entertaining for the audience.

A man clad in a white jacket stepped forward. With a hefty build and a scar on his chin, people seemed to go out of their way to avoid him. "Your team's been making headlines recently," he said, dipping his hands in his pockets as he reached their group. "I'm Geo."

"I see," Sakura said, releasing Fai's hand and stepping toward the stranger. Syaoran tensed. "I was told someone wanted to meet us?"

Geo straightened his shoulders. "The chairman of the chess tournament wishes to invite you to dinner, but the invitation goes only to the master." His eyes flitted toward the rest of them. Syaoran opened his mouth to object, then shut it. What could I say? I can't make her refuse.

Sakura stared at Geo for a long moment, as if measuring his sincerity. Her lips formed a flat line, the blood seeping out of them and leaving them pale. "I accept."

"You'll be alone."

Again, Syaoran tensed, praying she'd change her mind. She can't just go off with a stranger. Not without the rest of us. She must know that.

Beside him, Kurogane and Fai each lowered their eyes, silently giving her permission to act on her own. Sakura met his gaze, her eyes betraying nothing of her thoughts, then spoke. "I'll be back."

No, he thought, as she started to turn. Fai gave her a brittle smile, telling her to come back soon, but Syaoran didn't hear the sentiment. No. She can't leave. She'll be at risk, this is too important.

Without thinking, he reached forward, his fingers closing around her arm. She jerked to a stop, head whipping around. Only half a second passed as she stared at his hand, curled so carelessly around her sleeve, yet the moment stretched on so much longer. Not again. I won't lose you again.

Her face softened, her fingertips brushing over his knuckles. As he came back to the present, his hand went slack and slid down her arm.

"Please don't wait up for me," she said. Syaoran flinched at the coldness in her voice, forcing his arms to fall to his sides even as she turned away from him again. Geo cast one final glance in their direction, then helped her down the steps, toward the door.

It's not the same, Syaoran told himself. Taking her hand now won't change anything. She's chosen her path.

"If you don't want her to go, you should say it." Kurogane's voice sliced through the silence. Syaoran turned, trying not to look as pathetic as he felt. The ninja regarded him with something akin to annoyance. "Those jerks who can't say a word no matter how much time passes . . . They fool themselves into thinking that just because they clam up, nobody knows what's going on with them. I just don't get them."

Shame swelled in Syaoran's chest as he glanced in the direction Sakura had gone. Already, she'd slipped out of his reach, like sand falling in an hourglass. "Right. I'm sorry."

Kurogane nodded. "Let's go. She'll head back to the apartment when she's done."

Syaoran followed the ninja to the doors. When a frigid gust of air sliced through the sheer fabric of his shirt, he winced. I left my coat in the apartment again, he thought, wrapping his arms around his torso to preserve his body heat. After a moment, Kurogane rested a hand on his shoulder, letting his warmth bleed through his shirt. Syaoran grimaced. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

The ninja shrugged. "I know. But she knows enough by now to make her own choices. Even if it's painful, you have to let her."

He nodded, eyes flickering back to Fai. The vampire trailed several feet behind them, far enough that he was unlikely to hear what Syaoran said next. Even so, he kept his words vague. "I don't know what I can choose for myself anymore. If I've meddled in anyone's choices, it's because I don't know how to move forward with my own."

Kurogane's fingers flexed around his shoulder. "Someday, when you've grown up and gotten some real experience with the world, things will get clearer. Whatever choice you make then, no one will begrudge you for it."

And what are my choices? he wondered as their apartment building came into view. It should be an easy choice. I should be able to sacrifice everything for my Sakura without question, but I've let things get too complicated. It doesn't matter what I choose, I'll be hurting someone in the process.

But who?