Chapter Forty-Three

"This is delicious!" Sakura squeaked, the words muffled by the spoonful of cake in her mouth. Her eyes darted to Syaoran, revealing a glint of joy that had been absent for far too long. "You made this?"

He nodded, trying to smile back despite the ache in his chest. It had been so long since he'd seen this Sakura smile at him, and the expression warmed him more than he'd have expected. It was enough to make him wish he'd started this journey with her, instead of coming in at such an inopportune time.

And then guilt rushed through him because this Sakura wasn't the one he'd fallen in love with so many years ago. This Sakura would never love him, would never stop hurting when she looked at him because he'd always remind her of the Other.

He looked down at his slice of cake, an empty chasm opening up inside his chest.

"Yep," Fai said, still acting unnaturally cheerful despite Syaoran's assurance that he didn't have to try so hard. "I'm going to teach Syaoran-kun everything I know about baking."

Oh, god, he thought, horror slamming into his gut. How am I going to get out of this?

And then the guilt was back. Again. It worked in cycles, really. He'd think something that he knew to be wrong, then spend several seconds feeling horrible about it, even though he hadn't acted on the thought.

Across the table, Kurogane stared at the piece of cake in front of him, poking at it with the fork Fai had set on his plate. Syaoran watched surreptitiously, not even tasting his own slice as he shoveled it into his mouth. When Kurogane finally lifted a forkful of cake to his mouth, Syaoran froze, stomach churning as he awaited the verdict.

"Not bad," Kurogane finally said, lowering his fork.

His shoulders slumped in relief, heart decelerating to a normal pace. This can't be healthy, he thought, stabbing his fork into the slice of cake. There's no way I'm this desperate for approval.

They ate in silence, but for the first time since he'd joined the others in Tokyo, their meeting lacked hostility. It was all very cordial, very normal.

It made him bleed inside.

The next five days only exacerbated the ache in Syaoran's heart.

He and Fai spent hours together every day, baking whatever caught Fai's imagination. Cookies, cakes, muffins, fudge. On the fifth day, they attempted to make soufflés. The pastries (Syaoran was fairly certain soufflés were considered pastries, though they were more treacherous than anything they'd attempted previously) came out either burnt beyond recognition, or goopy in the middle. Fai continually assured him that the soufflé was a difficult dish even for skilled chefs to create, and that they were merely practicing, in case of emergency (and what emergency Fai had in mind, Syaoran had no idea). Despite their failed attempts at soufflé-making, the apartment was soon overflowing with sugary treats that neither he nor Kurogane had any interest in eating.

"Fai-san, maybe we should stop this."

Biting into one of yesterday's blueberry muffins, Fai made a sound of surprise. He swallowed. "Stop what?"

"Baking. Half of this is going to go stale before we can eat it anyway. It seems like a waste to keep making things."

Fai looked at him for a long moment, muffin pressed against his mouth. His lips turned down at the corner, and Syaoran braced himself, the guilt already rushing through him in response to the expression. Then, unexpectedly, Fai smiled and set the muffin aside. "Sure. What else do you want to do?"

He blinked. "You're not upset?"

"Why would I be upset?"

"Well . . . You like to bake, don't you?"

"Yes. I used to bake a lot in Ceres." His expression darkened for a fraction of a second, then his smile returned, softer than before. "Syaoran-kun, I wanted to try baking because it fosters cooperation and produces something positive." He lifted up his muffin in evidence. "Mostly, I wanted to show you that . . ." He trailed off.

"Show me what?"

"That things don't have to be so bad between us. That we could be friends."

Syaoran looked away, shame clogging his throat. "Oh."

"But there are plenty of other things we could be doing. Like shopping!" His face brightened, and he rose from the kitchen chair. "Wouldn't that be fun?"

I should be better at this kind of thing by now, he thought, standing. And Kurogane wants me to make an effort at this. His eyes flitted to the middle bedroom, where the ninja slept every night. The room was empty now, Kurogane having headed out to explore the city. Again. Syaoran suspected the ninja had timed his departure just so he'd have to spend extra time alone with Fai.

"Sure," Syaoran murmured. "Let's go shopping."

"Great!" Fai cheered, either not noticing Syaoran's lack of enthusiasm or choosing to ignore it. The vampire donned the fluffy white coat he'd been wearing when he'd first arrived at Yuuko's shop. Syaoran wore the coat Kurogane had bought him months ago, after he'd nearly fallen into oncoming traffic. I would've died if Kurogane hadn't been there, he thought, not for the first time. And he's not around to save me if something happens this time.

He shook off the thought. Infinity was dangerous, but not that dangerous. And he still had Fai with him; even now, he trusted the magician's ability to react to danger. Still, he thought, stepping out of the apartment and locking the door behind him. We should be careful.

They headed upstairs in what passed for companionable silence, then headed out the doors, into the cold. Infinity evidently experienced longer winters, as they'd been here nearly three months now and spring hadn't arrived. But it was nice enough outside, the air crisp, but not bitingly cold. They walked for several minutes before Fai spoke. "Where do you want to go?"

Home. To Clow. Anywhere but this world. "Maybe a bookstore?"

"All right." Fai picked up the pace, leading him across the bustling street even as cars honked and edged around them. "I know just the place. Sakura-chan and I pass it every time we go shopping."

Trailing several feet behind Fai, Syaoran knew the older man couldn't possibly have seen him wince; yet Fai glanced back, a flicker of sadness crossing his face, as if he'd felt an echo of that ache for himself.

They walked a couple blocks and ended up at a bookshop nestled between two towering restaurants. With wind chimes hanging outside the door and stars painted on the windows, it looked like part of a fairytale. The subtle joy the place exuded was so incongruous next to the dingy sidewalks and the overflowing trash bins that it was as if he'd stepped into another world. And, despite the present company, Syaoran felt some of the weight slide off his shoulders. This place was nice, safe.

I've been here before, he realized, startled. The shelves had been rearranged, and the decorations switched from festive silver tinsel to its current fairytale look, but he remembered visiting this place with Kurogane after he'd purchased his coat. A lot of things had changed that day. And now most of them had changed back, he thought miserably. He paused, looking at the rows of bookshelves, trying to call back the joy he'd felt the first time he'd been here. At the very least, he should've been excited about the possibility of acquiring new books to add to Mokona's seemingly endless storage space. But the air tasted stale, rife with dust instead of the scent of fresh paper, and rather than giving relief from the cold, the warm room felt stifling.

He glanced at Fai, trying to hide his disappointment. The magician smiled. "Relax, Syaoran-kun. Have some fun."

"Okay," he said, as if relaxing was a chore to be endured. He knew he wasn't being fair to Fai. The man was only trying to make him happy, however futile that was. Syaoran knew he should at least try to act cheerful. He hurried toward the rows of bookshelves, hoping his haste conveyed excitement instead of a desire to escape.

Syaoran paged through several books, not really caring about their contents. One of them was a how-to book on rebuilding a car engine, but it took him almost two minutes to realize that because he was so distracted. He shelved the manual, then headed down another aisle, hoping to lose Fai long enough to get some decent reading in. This bookstore was massive; surely he could find someplace where he could read, undisturbed, until enough time had passed to justify heading back so he could lock himself in his room again.

He hung out in the paranormal fiction section for a while, finding a lot of poorly-written young adult novels about vampires and werewolves. When Fai wandered over to him, he set those books aside and headed to the science fiction section. These actually held his attention for a bit, until the technical jargon overwhelmed him and forced him to abandon these shelves. He migrated to the back of the store, frustrated when he found himself cornered among shelves of romance novels. Why can't I get away? he wondered, massaging his temples to relieve the pulsing ache there. Why can't Fai just leave me alone?

Then he turned and saw the glowing red sign that proclaimed an exit. His eyes fixed on the letters until they jumbled together, hope warring with guilt. He couldn't just leave, but . . .

I could take a break. I could go outside and just be alone for a little while. Breathing hard, he shelved the book he'd been pretending to read and nudged the metal door open, sliding through the narrow gap and letting the door close behind him. It took him a moment to realize there was no handle on this side of the door, meaning there was no way back through unless someone opened it from the other side. I'll have to go around the building when I want to get back in.

Sighing, Syaoran strolled down the alley, maneuvering around trashcans and other debris. Rodents scurried between the bins, squeaking. A rat the size of a football darted out in front of him, and he froze, startled. As he stood paralyzed, several people paused on the sidewalk beyond the alley and looked at him, exchanging whispers. Syaoran glanced up, some preternatural instinct pushing him into a fighting stance before he even recognized the figures.

He heard a woman's laughter, and that sense of danger sharpened to outright certainty. "Well, well, well . . ." she murmured, as the red-haired man at her side stepped into the alley. "Never thought we'd see you around here after that black eye Roret gave you."

Syaoran's fists tightened as his mind jumped back to his first encounter with this bunch. They'd come after him once, when he'd been alone, heading back from the library. Syaoran actually remembered the way Kurogane had tended to his injuries when he'd returned better than he remembered his encounter with these rogues. But now that he recognized them, a spear of dread shot through his stomach. I'm alone this time, too, he thought, glancing at the one-way door behind him. And now I'm cornered.

Author's Notes:

I always intended to bring these OCs back as a plot point, but I didn't think it would take this long. So anyway, if you don't remember them, they were featured at the end of chapter seven and in chapter eight. They're going to be very important over the next few chapters, so if they aren't ringing a bell, I'd definitely recommend skimming over those earlier chapters again.