radio star
xxiv. thank you
SYAORAN LI CAUGHT IN ROMEO-AND-JULIET AFFAIR WITH FAN!
SYAORAN LI FAN CLIMBS HER WAY INTO HIS HEART, MIZUKI AKIZAWA LEFT IN TEARS
THE WILD LIFE OF SYAORAN LI: BITTER FIGHTS WITH GIRLFRIEND, NIGHTS SPENT WITH FANS, POOR CONCERT REVIEWS
HOW SYAORAN LI BROKE THE HEART OF ASIA'S IT GIRL
Syaoran stared sullenly at the screaming headlines as he scrolled through the newsfeed on his phone. He almost wanted to laugh at "Romeo-and-Juliet affair." It was certainly creative, although he thought there was hardly anything romantic about climbing up dozens of balconies to meet one's favorite singer and then blabbing to all the tabloids about it.
He sighed and locked the screen of the phone before tossing it onto the couch. The nausea that had long resided in the pit of his stomach threatened to swirl into violent illness once more. He took deep breaths. He couldn't let this ruin another show. That was the one place where he had always been able to escape the circus.
Disaster.
"Syaoran, you need to be backstage in an hour."
Syaoran turned around to see a stage assistant who had poked her head in, and he offered her a wan smile. "Ah, thank you."
She responded, much to his relief, with a smile of her own, but he also recognized pity in her eyes and instantly felt worse.
Everything is a disaster, and it's all your fault.
"I'll come let you know when you've got half an hour, all right?" The assistant shut the door.
As soon as he heard the click of the door, Syaoran collapsed onto the couch, head in his hands. Breaths in through the nose, out through the mouth.
You hurt the person you love the most. You fucked up your entire career. You've disappointed everyone in your life who was counting on you.
Dazedly, Syaoran looked around the dressing room. Empty—he had been the one to ask for peace and quiet, after all. It was just him, then. Just him, the ticking clock on the wall, the erratic thumping of his heart in his ears, and these thoughts, echoing down the cavity of his body. He remained paralyzed as the same several strings of thought rolled and crashed into him over and over, a violent tide—
Even if you bounce back, things will never be the same. Something else will happen. You'll screw up some other way.
"Thirty minutes."
Syaoran glanced up. The stage assistant, who was frowning now, stood in the doorway.
"Are you all right? You're awfully pale."
"I'm fine," Syaoran muttered, although he could feel the dread gnawing at his insides from the bottom up and manifesting in shaking hands and shallow breaths. He was fairly certain what was happening, and he wanted no one to see.
The assistant blinked at him for a few moments, and then she nodded. "Okay. I'll come back to prep you for the stage soon."
He thought briefly of calling Mizuki, but the thought only made him feel even more like he was going into a tailspin. Things were already so fragile between them. He couldn't burden her more.
The door opened again, and Syaoran tensed, bracing himself to put on a normal front, when he realized with relief that it was Meiling.
"Syaoran? What're you—" Meiling stopped as she took in the pale skin, the shine of panic in his eyes. She rushed over beside him on the couch. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"Anxiety attack. I'm pretty sure," Syaoran said, mildly impressed at how calm he sounded on the outside. "I don't know why—this is so stupid—"
"It's not," Meiling said, brow furrowing. She placed a hand on his arm. "It's not stupid."
She looked up at the clock. "You're supposed to be backstage in ten."
Syaoran swallowed and nodded. "Okay."
"Do you think you can do it?"
"Of course," Syaoran said, but this time, he sounded so weak that he would have laughed if his heart didn't feel like it might jump out of his mouth any minute.
Meiling shook her head. "We need to cancel."
Syaoran's brows shot up. "We can't. I've never canceled. And I fucked up the last two concerts, I want to do better—"
Meiling stood up. "Well, there's a first for everything." She looked down at him, clinically at first before her expression softened into deep sadness. "Syaoran... This is hard. It would be hard for anyone. You can't always be a superhero. You need a break."
Syaoran met Meiling's ruby eyes. There was kindness there, and sympathy, and perhaps most importantly, resolve. For a moment, he thought he might crumple. He thought about the terrible things that the media would say about the canceled show. It made whatever was in his stomach writhe and scratch at him. He thought about going onstage, feeling paralyzed, seeing the blank faces of people who had adored him up until now. The thing in his stomach scratched harder. But Meiling was waiting, and he was certain that if he got up there, he would botch it entirely.
"Okay." He nodded. "Okay, tell them—tell them I can't do the show."
Sakura awoke to the chirp of her ringtone and reached blindly toward the nightstand. The sun shone weakly through the windows, telling her it had to be relatively early in the morning, and she wondered if her father was calling to tell her he'd made it safely.
"Hello," she murmured into the phone.
"Ah, Sakura? Were you asleep?"
Sakura felt herself jolt awake at the familiar voice. Her heart started drumming quickly against her ribcage, alerted to the sudden peril. The sudden movement thankfully did not wake Syaoran, who remained peacefully asleep beside her.
"Of course she was asleep, you idiot, it's eight in the morning and I am sure she had a very long and crazy day yesterday!"
"Honey, why are you yelling at me—"
"Oh, for Christ's sake, give me the phone—hello?" Chiharu Mihara's voice, which had been muffled in the background, grew more audible as she spoke into the receiver.
"Chiharu? Yamazaki?" Sakura whispered. She slipped out of bed and walked to the other end of the suite, where she sat herself on a chaise lounge near the balcony.
"Oh, Sakura, are you okay?" Chiharu's words came out in a big woosh, tinged with sympathy and concern. "It's been insanity here and we wanted to call you yesterday when the news broke, but we had our own craziness to deal with, and Yamazaki couldn't sleep and just had to call you at this hour, even though I told him you'd be sleeping—"
"Sakuraaaaaa, we miss you and love you and we're sorry this is happening to yoooouuuu," Yamazaki wailed in the background.
Sakura smiled and felt a rush of relief and gratitude at the sincerity in their voices. "I'm fi—I, uh, I am feeling a bit better since yesterday," she responded. Her brows knitted together. "Is everything okay on your end? I'm the one who should be sorry, I didn't even think about how much chaos the story would bring to the magazine—I have no idea how it happened or who leaked it, but please let me make it up to you somehow—"
"Don't be silly," Chiharu chided. "This has been beneficial to the magazine, actually—our website crashed yesterday because there were so many visitors. You know what they say in this business. Any press is good press."
"It's the most readership we've gotten since the inception of the magazine!"
"And I don't know how it leaked, either, but Yamazaki and I are investigating every single worker in our building," Chiharu added darkly. She sighed. "But mostly, we're worried about you. All the readership in the world isn't worth all the bullshit you're dealing with. How are you holding up?"
"Um..." Sakura thought carefully about what she should say. Sleep still clouded her thought process, but after last night, she figured honesty would be best. "I'm really tired, and I have no idea what I've gotten myself into."
"Yeah, I bet," Chiharu replied, clucking her tongue. "Oh, Sakura, I hate that this is happening to you. People can be truly awful."
"Ah, yeah. Thank you." Sakura wasn't sure how to react to sympathy yet, particularly when she was still smarting from her own guilt.
"I'm already writing a letter from the editor defending your honor and planning on running it in today's issue!" Yamazaki shouted from the background.
Sakura felt a laugh bubble up her throat, and she was suddenly very grateful they'd called. As much as she felt she could not have made it through the night without Syaoran, Yamazaki and Chiharu reminded her that she had supporters in the outside world. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."
"Don't be silly. Of course we did," Chiharu said. "And if there's anything else we can do to help, please, please let us know. I'd offer to come see you, but I'm assuming you're on lockdown."
"Yeah," Sakura responded, looking around the cavernous, darkened suite. "A bit. Um—actually, there is one thing—I am sure Syaoran's lawyers will be coming by your office later on to figure things out. If you could just let them know if you find anything out—and maybe let me know, too?"
"Of course!" Chiharu said. "We're going to find out who it is. And then we're going to destroy them."
"Metaphorically speaking."
"And maybe literally," Chiharu added. "A little bit."
"Thank you for calling me." Sakura smiled. She stood up, feeling lighter on her feet already.
"Anytime," Chiharu responded warmly. "We've got your back."
"WE WILL BE YOUR CHAMPIONS, SAKURA!"
"YAMAZAKI, IF YOU DON'T STOP YELLING RIGHT THIS INSTANT—I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU'RE GOING TO WAKE UP THE ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD AND THEN IT'LL BE ALL ON ME—"
Sakura tried to contain her laughter so as not to awaken Syaoran. "Thanks, guys. Really."
When she hung up the phone, Sakura tiptoed back to the bed, where Syaoran lay fast asleep on his side, one arm slightly outstretched and the other curled against his chest.
As diligently as he had coaxed her to sleep, Sakura thought, surely he was just as exhausted as she, if not more. She placed her phone back on the nightstand and studied him, careful not to lean in too closely for fear of interrupting his slumber. The way the light hit his features made him look so soft, even amidst the hard angles of his face and the dark circles beneath his eyes.
Sakura imagined briefly what the night might have been like if Syaoran hadn't come. She was certain she would have remained numb—perhaps her body still would have stubbornly refused to allow her to cry. Maybe it wouldn't have been so terrible compared to the day, then. But she remembered the void as well, the inability to recognize anything she was feeling, which had been painful in its own right, and the sense that she would forever be trapped in that moment in time. Syaoran being there had made her feel something, and even if those feelings had been painful, that was much more preferable—particularly because those feelings were accompanied by the small bit of happiness that his presence had provided. She also vaguely wondered how long he would stick around, but she quickly shut the thought out when she felt a dull ache start to form at the base of her stomach. That would come later.
Sighing, she glanced around the room. Now that it was morning and the chaos was not so new, she suddenly remembered all the things she needed to function as a human being. She hadn't eaten since Meiling had ordered her lunch when they had first arrived at the hotel yesterday, and her stomach growled as if to acknowledge finally being noticed. She glanced back at Syaoran; maybe she would wait till he was awake to order food so they could both eat.
Well, then... Next order of business. Sakura grimaced at her unkempt hair in the gilded mirror that hung on the wall by the door and headed quickly to the shower.
The luxurious bathroom of the suite, adorned with gold fixtures, marble countertops, and arrangements of peonies sitting in square glass vases throughout the room, offered her the most spacious shower she had ever seen in her life. The large tub next to the shower was also tempting, but the thought of standing beneath a constant stream of hot water was too much to resist.
Sakura stripped off her clothes and turned the shower on, and before long, steam began to cloud the stall. She stepped beneath the stream of water and sighed in pleasure, leaning her back against the cool tile for a moment before she began to wash her hair. While she had by no means expected something as simple as a shower to erase her problems, it was already helping a great deal more than she thought it would. The muscles along her shoulders and back began to ease beneath the pressure of the hot water, and the eucalyptus-scented shampoos and soaps provided by the hotel aided in the soothing effect.
For the first time in the last twenty-four hours, she was able to think clearly and see a hint of light. The anxiety and fear that had plagued her all night ebbed away just enough for her to remember the importance of being positive, particularly in times where it was most difficult. Her father had instilled this principle in her from youth, at first to get her through her mother's death, and since then, it had seen her through every trial of life thus far.
Surely, she thought, everything would be all right in the end—even if she had to walk through more fire to get to that point. People had faced far worse. She had good friends and a supportive family. And Syaoran was here—Syaoran, who had gotten through so much more than this, was by her side, although she did not know for how long.
With her resolve renewed, Sakura stepped out of the shower and toweled off. Rummaging through the bag she had brought with her, she produced a grey t-shirt and black leggings, and it felt good to put on clean and comfortable clothes. As she finger-combed her hair in the mirror, a persistent noise turned her attention back to the bedroom, and she realized that her phone was suddenly chiming rapidly, as if someone were sending dozens of text messages to her at once.
Rushing over to the nightstand, she picked up her phone and glanced at Syaoran, who remained dead asleep, and let out a relieved sigh as she took the buzzing phone back to the bathroom. She hurriedly switched the phone to vibrate and glanced down, wondering if perhaps Tomoyo was trying to get in touch with her, or maybe Meiling.
Oh—
Sakura felt as if her stomach had been plunged into ice water when she saw the dozens of new messages from unknown numbers that crowded her home screen. She had a sick feeling she knew what this meant, and her heart began to race. Knowing she shouldn't, but unable to stop herself, Sakura went to her inbox and opened the first message.
You really fucked up. You don't deserve to live. I'll make sure to remind you of that every day until you finally kill yourself. Then the world will thank me.
Sakura's breath hitched. She felt as though someone had sucker-punched her in the gut. How had anyone gotten her number? She knew there was no use in opening any of the others, which would surely say the same or worse things. But still, as if they were of their own mind, her fingers swiped to the next text message, and the next, and the next.
Surprise! I'm going to make your life hell the way you've made my Syaoran's life hell!
You stupid bitch.
We found your number, you whore. You can't run from us!
You are ugly and pathetic. Syaoran will never fall for someone like you, and no one else in this world should love you, either.
You are a disgrace.
Sakura could hear her own breathing as it shortened into small gasps, and even as she willed herself to stop opening the remaining texts, new notifications indicating the receipt of yet more messages continued to pop up at the top of her screen every few seconds. Her hands shook so hard that she accidentally opened one, and as soon as her eyes landed on it, she forced herself to swallow a scream.
Someone had photoshopped a picture of her face—quite skillfully, she thought somewhere in the back of her head—onto a picture of a woman's corpse. The photo had come accompanied by a text that simply said, "Die."
The room began to spin, and a sour, sickly feeling unfurled throughout Sakura's body, starting from the heart and making its way quickly to every appendage. Before she could fully process the horror pulsing through her veins, she felt a sudden, violent wave of nausea overcome her. The phone clattered loudly on the floor as she rushed over to the toilet. Even after she had emptied what little was in her stomach and she had flushed the toilet, her body continued to convulse as she tried in vain to scrub the image of the corpse, pale and limp and wearing her face, from her mind's eye.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought as she heaved and coughed nothing into the toilet. Things don't magically get better just like that. You brought this upon yourself, and on Syaoran. He doesn't deserve this.
Tears prickled at the rims of her eyes. She knew that the voice in her head was harsh, but that didn't stop her from believing it.
Sakura nearly jumped when she felt a hand on her back before realizing it was Syaoran's. Without saying a word, he had crouched down beside her and began to rub soothing circles between her shoulders. Mortified, Sakura could not bring herself to make eye contact with him.
"Deep breaths," Syaoran said, voice scratchy from sleep, but soothing nonetheless.
Desperate to ease the nausea, Sakura obeyed, breathing in deeply through her nose and out through her mouth, and she felt the hammering in her heart begin to soften little by little.
After a few long moments, she finally made herself look at Syaoran. Guilt crept into the corners of her mind as she took in the exhaustion and unbridled concern written all over his face. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to wake you—I know you must be so tired—"
Syaoran shook his head, prompting Sakura to fall silent. "Don't worry about it. I was already in the process of waking up." He reached a hand out to feel her forehead. "You all right?"
Sakura nodded, and she was reminded of how she had lied all day yesterday with her "I'm fine"s. Exhausting as that had been, she didn't want to let Syaoran know what had just happened for fear of burdening him anymore. His stress was already so palpable, and the strong front he put up on her behalf made her adore him and hurt for him in equal amounts. She could at least do him the same favor.
He frowned as he removed his hand. "You don't feel feverish. I hope you're not coming down with something—that's the last thing you need right now."
"Oh, no—I'm sure I'm not sick," Sakura said hurriedly, standing up in hopes that it would make her look less fragile. "Just... Yesterday was a lot, so I guess this is how I'm dealing with it."
She was surprised at how easily the lie slipped out of her mouth.
Syaoran stared at her for a moment, blinking a few times, and Sakura worried that her response hadn't been as convincing to his ears as it had been to her own. But after several seconds, he sighed. "Yeah. That's not surprising."
Sakura noted regretfully that her fib hadn't necessarily lifted his spirits, either, and she chewed on her lower lip as she searched for something to say that might. "Um... Do you—did you sleep well?"
Syaoran's brows rose at the question, and then his eyes crinkled a bit and the corners of his lips rose ever so slightly. Although it was only the subtlest shift in expression, Sakura felt warmth and relief spread through her body at the sight.
"I did," he responded softly. "Honestly, it was the most restful sleep I've had in a while. Thank you for asking."
Sakura nodded and felt her own lips curve up. "Of course."
"I want to ask you the same, but why don't we go sit down?" Syaoran said, and he chuckled a bit as he stood up and glanced around the bathroom. "This is a weird place to have a conversation."
He crouched down to pick up her phone to hand it to her, and Sakura realized at the same moment that he did that the phone was still buzzing incessantly, albeit quietly. She froze, heart starting back up at marathon pace.
Syaoran frowned as he stared at the phone, whose screen had cracked when she'd dropped it on the floor. Sakura watched in horror as his eyes took in the notifications of messages from unknown numbers on the home screen. She wanted nothing more than to snatch the phone away from him and throw it out the balcony window, but she knew it was no use. The darkening cloud over Syaoran's face, the way his mouth was slightly agape, told her that he knew from the first glance what was happening to her, why she had gotten so violently, suddenly ill.
As if on instinct, his thumb moved to slide the home screen away.
"Oh, Syaoran—don't—"
But Sakura spoke a second too late, as the screen opened to the message with the picture of the corpse once more. She saw his eyes widen and then narrow as he saw the image on the cracked screen.
"Fuck." He looked up at her, eyes blazing. "Sakura—"
Sakura shook her head vehemently. "It's okay," she said, and she almost laughed at how weak her voice sounded against the message she was trying to convey. "It's nothing I can't handle."
Syaoran's brows turned upward, and he suddenly looked so heartbroken that it pained Sakura to look at him.
"Please don't look at me like that," she said. Her voice was already trembling. She tried to counteract this with a smile, but she knew she must have looked ridiculous. She chose to cast her eyes downward instead, and that seemed to make it worse. Her vision blurred. "I'll start crying, you know? Like a total idiot. And I don't want to cry and make you worry about me anymore."
In spite of her words, Syaoran walked two steps toward her and encircled her in his arms, and Sakura felt whatever resolve she'd had left melt as hot tears made their way out of her eyes. She let out a long, shuddering breath, and she felt Syaoran's arms tighten around her.
"Sakura," she felt him sigh into her ear, breath soft against her skin. "You don't have to do this alone."
"I do, though," she whispered. Her shoulders shook.
Continuing to hold her against him, Syaoran led Sakura over to the sofa in the room adjacent to the bathroom and sat her down.
"I'll be right back."
Sakura nodded, and she noticed as he walked back toward the bathroom that he still held onto her phone, which was still lighting up and buzzing. She swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands, urging herself to stop crying. Her head was swimming. Hadn't she been fine—almost happy, even—not thirty minutes ago?
When he returned, Syaoran handed her a glass of water and sat beside her.
"Drink," he ordered.
Sakura took a few sips before clutching the cup in her hands and opting to stare at it to avoid Syaoran's gaze. Her hands shook uncontrollably, and then she realized that her whole body was doing the same. She could feel Syaoran's eyes on her, studying her carefully.
Just when she began to wonder who was going to break the silence first, Syaoran gently took the glass out of her hands and stood up. She looked up at him, surprised and relieved. She'd been expecting him to ask her if she wanted to talk about it, which she didn't.
"Want to go back to bed?" He held out a hand.
"Um—yeah. Yes." Sakura realized now that she was very tired again, and bed sounded wonderful. She wondered how he knew. She took his hand and let him lead her back to the bedroom.
This time, he slid into the bed next to her immediately and held out his arm as a pillow. Surprised but too tired to make any note of it or protest, Sakura snuggled into his chest and wrapped an arm around his torso. She found her eyes shutting instantly and tried to suppress her shaking. Syaoran obviously felt it, as he pulled her closer and tightened his hold on her, as if he might absorb whatever was causing it.
Sakura could feel him stroking her hair, and the familiar ache in her chest reappeared at his affection. He began to hum, and Sakura recognized the tune of "Today" immediately. The low rumble in his chest and the soft melody in her ears was soothing, she thought. It was such a pretty song. She hoped, although she thought it was foolish to do so, that it was about her.
She desperately wanted him to stay.
I love you. I'm sorry.
Sakura felt her brows knit together as incoherent sounds formed into words and made their way into her ears.
"Look, I know that's what other people have done. But I'm not staying in fucking hiding for six months. I didn't do anything wrong! And neither did Sakura. What are we repenting for, exactly?"
She caught her name and felt herself grow more alert. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the light, which she realized was coming from the ceiling lamps and sconces now. She nearly fell out of the bed in surprise when she turned toward the windows and saw that the sun was sinking over the horizon. She had been sleeping all day.
"Fine. I'll stick it out here till tomorrow night," Syaoran said into the phone, "but we need to come up with a better plan really soon. Sakura especially doesn't deserve to be imprisoned in a hotel room. We should send her to be with her family overseas if you want her out of the public eye. At least she'd be around people who can provide her some kind of comfort."
Sakura's heart sank. So her time with Syaoran really was limited, although she knew she should have been thankful for the extra day she had with him. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about how awful it would be once he was gone.
Syaoran stood in front of the windows, phone against one ear and arms crossed as he looked out over the city. He was wearing gym clothes, and a towel was slung over his shoulder. Sakura wondered how much he had been able to get done in the time she'd been sleeping.
"She's still asleep." He shifted so that she could see his profile for the briefest moment. He ran a hand through his hair and turned back around so he was facing the windows again. His voice grew soft, so Sakura could only just barely hear him. "I don't think she's doing so well. She was definitely in shock. That fucking photo—I could seriously kill someone—"
Sakura watched his shoulders droop ever so slightly. "I know. Thanks for the update. And get some sleep, would you? If you collapse on me, I would never forgive myself."
A pause, and then a quiet, brief chuckle. "Okay. Bye."
Syaoran lowered his phone and appeared to stare at it for a few moments in silence before pocketing it and turning around. His eyes, which had narrowed somewhat during the phone call, it seemed, softened when they landed on her.
"Hey," he said, approaching the bed. "Sleep okay?"
Sakura nodded as she sat up. She felt like she'd been sleeping for a year. Her voice croaked when she spoke. "Um... What time is it?"
"5:30." The mattress sank down slightly where Syaoran sat. "Are you hungry? I ordered some room service. It should be here soon—I was going to wake you up when it got here."
"A little." In the morning, she had been starving. She was aware that her body was low on fuel, a fact made apparent by the airy feeling in her head and the emptiness in her stomach, but the hunger had dissipated after the events of the morning. She shook her head, embarrassed. "How did I sleep for so long?"
Syaoran shrugged. "You were tired. This kind of stuff is draining, you know. And it's not like you slept a lot last night in the first place."
She nodded, drawing her legs up to her chest. She wasn't sure whether it was the long sleep or the lack of food or the emotional drain of having experienced what she had, but she felt as if someone else had taken over her body and she were watching from above. Syaoran was looking down at his phone, typing a long text at rapid speed, she assumed to Meiling.
"Um... Syaoran..."
He looked up at her. "Hm?"
Sakura fidgeted with her hands. "Thank you. For staying with me this whole time."
"Of course. Why wouldn't I? We're in this together."
Until tomorrow, she added silently. She made herself smile back.
"By the way, Meiling got you a new phone and a new number. She's already messaged your father and brother and Tomoyo about it, and you can tell whoever else you need to. She came by earlier today to drop it off."
"Oh—thank you," Sakura said, surprised. She hadn't even thought to consider that her old phone would be virtually unusable now, at least for the time being. "What did we do with my old phone?"
A shadow passed over Syaoran's eyes. "I didn't want to give it to Meiling without your permission, but I'd like to hand it over to the police."
Sakura's brows rose in alarm. "The police?"
"Those people are harassing you. And the shit they were saying is absolutely unforgivable. I—" he sighed. The storm in his eyes dissolved into sadness as he met her gaze. "It's ultimately up to you, you know. But I don't think it'd be a bad idea to hand it over to the police, who could make those people understand that what they did was not acceptable."
Sakura sucked in her cheeks, thinking. She frowned. "I don't want to ruin their lives or anything. They probably didn't realize how bad—" she stopped herself, trying to block out the photo of the corpse again. "Wouldn't a charge of harassment make things tough for them? I bet some of them are awfully young."
Syaoran's expression changed into something undecipherable, and then he let out a laugh and shook his head. "You might be the only person I know who would think of it that way. We can talk more about what to do with it later."
The doorbell rang, and Syaoran hopped off the bed, holding a hand out to Sakura. "For now, let's get you some food."
Syaoran watched Sakura pick at her food absently and frowned. The hotel had delivered a feast—roasted meats, mountains of rice, fresh vegetables, and a steaming clay pot of king crab stew. She had to have been starving, but she had hardly put anything on her plate and even less in her mouth.
"Here," Syaoran said, grabbing several slices of meat with his chopsticks and placing it on her plate. "This beef is really good. You should try it."
Sakura looked up at him, almost as if she were surprised to see him there. She gave him a wan smile. "Ah—thank you."
She stared down at her plate, poking at the meat with her chopsticks but not eating it otherwise.
Syaoran tapped his foot, wondering what he could do. He suspected that she was bottling up many emotions, and until she let them out somehow, she would remain like this—in a state of semi-shock that made her zombielike and listless. But he couldn't force her to talk; he knew from experience that such an approach could backfire and make things much worse if she wasn't ready.
Still, it hurt him to watch her like this, so quiet and lifeless and antsy and unlike herself. And if her crying last night had helped at all, whatever progress had been made had been undone by the horrifying events of the morning, which had to be newly traumatizing in their own right.
He chewed on his lower lip. Maybe getting out of the room would help, he thought.
"Hey."
Sakura looked up, the surprised look back on her face—as if she had been startled out of a daze. "Hm?"
Syaoran looked around the suite and wrinkled his nose. "A big hotel room is still a hotel room, huh? I think it'd be nice to get out of here for a little bit, don't you?"
Sakura tilted her head to one side. "But—how? Meiling said we were stuck here till tomorrow night."
A more invested response. This was good, Syaoran thought.
"Well, there's a private gym up here that only people staying in these suites can use, and Meiling ensured no one else would book a room in this wing for a few days." He paused before continuing, thinking out loud now. "But then, you've hardly eaten, so maybe going to the gym wouldn't be the best—"
And then he had it. A grin spread slowly across Syaoran's lips, and Sakura looked at him expectantly, lips tilted downward in a curious frown. "I've got an idea. Go throw on a coat and hat. It's cold outside."
"Wow," Sakura breathed, staring out at the city. She inhaled several deep breaths of the cold night air, enjoying its sweetness. She already felt more at ease being out of the hotel. "It's even prettier than from the room."
Syaoran dropped down beside her on the blanket, pressing a warm cup of coffee into her hands. She took a sip.
"Not quite as good a view as from Hiiragizawa Publications." He grinned as he looked over at her. "But this is still pretty damn close."
Sakura returned the smile. Warmth curled throughout her chest, and she was certain it was not from the coffee. Out here, it was easier to remember the silver lining, for her mind to feel less clouded and for her to feel more like herself. She was on the rooftop of a skyscraper with Syaoran, who had been impossibly sweet to her and had been bending over backwards to make her feel better. By any measure, this was a situation she would have killed for just two weeks ago. So even if she only had one more day with him, she thought, she should make the most of her time with him.
"Thank you for bringing me out here," she murmured, and then she laughed to herself and shook her head. "The perks of being a celebrity—I still can't believe you got the custodian to let us up."
Syaoran chuckled. "Yeah, it doesn't have to be all bad."
He drew his knees partially up and rested his wrists on them. He looked over at her, and Sakura could see the worry on his face, clear as day. "How are you doing? Better out here?"
Sakura nodded. A plane flashed its way across the sky, and she followed its trajectory absently, sipping on her coffee carefully so as not to burn her tongue. Like this, it was very easy to forget what was going on in the city below, and it all felt very insignificant. "I can breathe out here. Thank you for doing this for me."
She shot Syaoran a sidelong glance after she spoke, just in time to catch him smile a breathtaking smile. It drew some of the distress out of his eyes and erased some of the lines in his face. Sakura wished she knew how to make him smile like that all the time.
He lay back on the blanket and pillows he'd brought out before patting the pillow beside him. "You can't really see the stars out here, but it's still nice to lie down and look at the sky."
Sakura joined him. The sky glowed a deep blue, the lights of the city casting a hazy glow that seemed to make its way all the way up into space. As they lay in silence, she wondered how she would feel in a year, after the pain of not being around him had faded and she'd only see him on TV and in magazines, just like everyone else. She briefly entertained the idea of telling him she loved him—after all, what did she have to lose?
She screwed her eyes shut as fear pumped through her veins suddenly. Even if they weren't going to see each other again, she wouldn't want his last memory of her to be of awkwardly rejecting her because he didn't feel the same way.
Syaoran cleared his throat. "So. Do you want to talk about it?"
Sakura pursed her lips, continuing to stare up at the sky. She knew the question had been a long time coming, and she was quite aware that she had spoken very little of herself and her feelings the last two nights, except to mention that she was afraid. For someone who was generally much more expressive and aware of her feelings, she realized this was very atypical behavior. And when she was being completely honest with herself, she knew that nothing sounded more tempting to her right now than to bare her soul to Syaoran—who had been through all of this before, who was one of the kindest people she knew. But...
"I mean—no," Sakura sighed, and then she smiled sheepishly as she turned her head towards him. "It's nothing personal. I just—I know I'll cry if I do talk about it. Probably a lot."
Syaoran rolled his eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, I've seen you cry a few times in the last twenty-four hours. It hasn't destroyed our relationship yet."
"I know," she said, giggling, but her expression quickly grew somber. "But... I'm tired of looking so sad and weak. And feeling so sad and weak."
"Well, first of all, I don't think crying about something like this makes you sad and weak. I think it makes you human," Syaoran responded. Sakura could hear the frown in his voice. "But if you do want to talk about it, and that's the only thing that's stopping you, I have an idea."
"What would that be?"
"It's going to sound kind of weird," Syaoran mumbled. "But my mom used to do this for me when I was a kid. I didn't like crying in front of people very much, either, you see. Not even her. But she had to get me to tell her what was wrong somehow. So, I could just rest a hand over your eyes while you talk. That way, you aren't seeing me see you. And if you start crying, I'm technically not seeing you cry, either."
Sakura laughed. "That's really sweet. But it's probably more effective on a little kid."
Syaoran nodded, watching the puffs of air that came out of his mouth. "That's true. But you could be surprised."
Sakura was silent for a moment, and then she shrugged. Maybe it would feel bizarre enough to distract her from crying. "I guess I could give it a try."
Syaoran glanced over at her. "Just remember you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."
"Okay."
"Ready?"
Sakura nodded, and the glowing sky disappeared as Syaoran's hand, soft and warm, came to rest over her eyes.
She took a breath and laughed nervously. "This is weird."
"Yeah, I suspect it was a lot less weird as a kid." He shifted. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to."
"No, no—I'll give it a shot. But I don't know where to start."
"Well," Syaoran said, voice low now, "why don't you just start with what happened yesterday? And not just about your dad or your brother or me. Think about you. Just be honest with yourself."
"Oh, ah... Okay." She was still self-conscious, but Sakura imagined that she'd have already clammed up if she could see Syaoran's face now. She'd have to tell him after it was all over that the trick had actually worked somewhat.
"So... here's how I see it," she started carefully. "There are the same facts we had yesterday. I was careless. And then I made someone angry, I guess. Or maybe they just wanted the money. Either way, they got back at me, or made their payday, or both.
"I... feel sick, honestly. I've been feeling sick and not like myself since the whole thing happened, which is only natural. But I keep thinking about my dad and my brother and Yukito, and all my friends, and you, and how none of you would have been hurt if it weren't for my stupidity, and it hurts worse to know that all of you are hurting and worrying about me and spending so much time to help me—"
Be honest with yourself. The words reverberated in Sakura's ears as if Syaoran had spoken them again. She swallowed and realized a lump had formed in her throat.
"No, that's a lie," she said, shaking her head. She was very thankful now for the darkness, and she wondered if Syaoran noticed her squeezing her eyes shut beneath his hand. "This hurts. I'm hurting a lot, and not just because of anyone else. I'm sad. And I'm really, really scared. I've never been this scared before, and I don't know what to do."
Her face contorted, and her voice cracked as she continued. "I always try to tell myself everything will be all right in the end, but I can't believe it this time. Everything feels hopeless."
She began to cry in earnest, but the momentum of her previous words forced more to tumble out of her mouth, pitchy and distorted from her crying. "But most of all, I hate myself for feeling this way, for feeling so scared and sorry for myself. I don't want to hurt more for me, not when there are all these people I care about sitting out there worrying about me and doing things for me, because who am I that I'm worth all this trouble? So now I'm not only sad; I'm also a fool, and I'm a terrible person."
She sobbed, and she felt the tears roll down her temples and into her ears. She was embarrassed that she was doing this, even though it was exactly what Syaoran had wanted her to do, but letting it out like this was something she hadn't known that she needed, and it felt too good to stop.
Somewhere in the midst of her crying, Sakura felt Syaoran remove his hand and scoot over next to her to hold her.
"That's right, Sakura," he murmured soothingly. "Just let it all go."
For the second time in two days, she cried herself into exhaustion on Syaoran's chest, and if the situation had not been so heartrending, she would have made a stupid joke about how she was ruining yet another shirt of his. When Sakura's tears had slowed and she was only hiccuping, as opposed to full-on weeping, Syaoran loosened his hold on her, but he remained beside her. He leaned on his elbow with his body turned toward her, his head hovering over hers. His expression was so tender that it made her want to burst into tears again.
"Was that helpful?"
"Yes. And embarrassing," Sakura responded, laughing thickly. She wiped at her eyes.
"First things first—you're not a terrible person," he said, and he raised his eyebrows in a way that matched his matter-of-fact tone. "And secondly, my father used to tell me something when I was younger that I think might apply here. When someone worries about you, it's because they care about you, and you deserve to be cared for. So, instead of saying 'sorry,' say 'thank you.'"
Sakura took it in. It made sense.
You deserve to be cared for.
It felt like the sweetest thing anyone could possibly say to her. She blinked away more tears and tried a smile. "Okay. Then... Syaoran, thank you."
It was only then that she noticed how Syaoran was looking at her, and she felt all the breath leave her lungs instantly. The outline of his face glowed in the city lights, and his eyes were so warm and filled with something that Sakura was afraid to name. Chestnut hair hung just over his eyebrows, making him appear somewhat more boyish than usual. He was smiling only a little, the edges of his lips curved up at the slightest angle, but he looked radiant.
One look at him made Sakura's heart feel like it was beating in her throat.
Why is he looking at me like this?
He moved in even closer, so their noses were only just barely not touching, and Sakura's eyes widened. She was positive he could hear her heart thudding furiously now.
"Um... Syaoran? I—"
Before she could finish, Syaoran closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers in a slow, sweet kiss.
That's it! Thank you so much for reading this chapter, and thank you to all of you who have read and reviewed the last one! I was so happy to get messages from readers throughout the last few months that I hadn't updated. It really gave me the motivation to keep writing, even when I had a huge block. On another note, I apologize for the delay in posting—I finally graduated law school, which was a huge milestone for me, but it took a lot of time and effort to get there, and writing often had to go on the backburner. Also, graduation really makes it crazy (in an amazing way) that I still have so many wonderful readers here. I started on FFN as a twelve-year-old with really bad stories and even worse writing. I am now twenty-four and I am happy that I have, at the very least, some entertaining stories and passable writing, haha. I love all of you for being so patient with me as I try to grow.
More importantly, THEY FINALLY KISSED! Huzzah! It was a long time coming, but Syaoran and Sakura in this particular story might be even slower of a couple than the version in the actual manga, so it took them a while to get here. And even so, it's not finished, right? Feelings need to be explained and situations must be figured out! As with the last chapter, I felt incredibly cheesy writing a lot of these scenes, but after both of them have been withholding so much from the other for so long, it's nice to "let" them really be honest and affectionate with each other. If all goes according to plan, the next chapter will be less angst and a lot more fluff before the plot really gets rolling again!
One thing I really tried to emphasize in this chapter is that both of these characters have experienced some pretty crippling anxiety. Syaoran has quite a bit of experience with it, whether it's due to the pressures of the spotlight or a seismic scandal. Sakura, on the other hand, is experiencing it for the first time here, and I thought it was important that Syaoran, as someone who has felt it all before and can recognize it when he sees it, was the one to be there to help. On a personal note, I have had my own struggles with anxiety throughout the last few years, so writing this was both challenging (in trying to depict how exactly it feels with accuracy) and therapeutic.
On a final note, I took Syaoran's "say thank you, not sorry" advice from Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle, in case anyone was wondering! I believe in the manga, it's actually Sakura who gives Syaoran this piece of advice... But it sounded like Sakura needed it more today, haha.
Okay, enough of my rambling. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you all! Please leave a review on the way out, and feel free to message me on my ficblr!
Love,
boreum dal