radio star

xxviii. reckoning

Hideki Matsura was disarmingly friendly.

Given the situation at hand and what kind of stress it had caused Syaoran and Meiling, Sakura had envisioned the man would look comically villainous—large in stature, with greying, slicked-back hair and leathery skin and perhaps a monocle and a cigar.

Instead, Matsura was young and slight, quite thin, and a couple of inches shorter than Syaoran. Although Meiling had informed Sakura that he was in his mid-thirties, Sakura would have guessed he was only five or six years her senior. He was dressed more casually than Sakura had expected as well, wearing slacks and a light blue button-down with no tie or coat, his dark hair styled with gel. And he most certainly did not wear a monocle; his much more normal choice of eyewear—rectangular silver frames—gave him a studious look that reminded Sakura of Eriol.

More significantly, he wasn't acting like a man who had threatened to derail Syaoran's career forever just a few days prior, and it did not seem like only Sakura was thrown off by this. Even Meiling, who'd remained stone-faced until they'd entered the building, had hesitated, only to relent and give Matsura an air-kiss and a friendly smile when he'd greeted her with what looked to Sakura like sincere happiness. Only Syaoran had maintained a neutral expression since they'd walked in. Even so, Sakura had caught his gaze softening somewhat when Matsura greeted Sakura with just as much kindness as he had Meiling.

"I've already ordered for us, so no need to look at the menus," Matsura said. "This place has some of the best tonkotsu ramen I've ever tasted."

Meiling looked at Matsura skeptically. "How come I've never heard of it?

"It's new. It has yet to catch on."

Syaoran glanced around at the largely empty restaurant. "Hence, why you chose it."

Matsura nodded. "And the ramen, let's not forget." He turned to Sakura. "Are you all right with that, Sakura?"

"Oh—yes, absolutely," Sakura said, caught off-guard. Although she knew, objectively, that she was welcome, she couldn't help feeling startled when Matsura addressed her directly. After all, she was still trying to shake the feeling that he was supposed to be some mortal enemy of theirs. She tried to smile. "Thank you."

Matsura smiled back, and again, Sakura found herself surprised at how genuine it seemed. How could someone like this have caused Syaoran so much trouble? It didn't compute to her.

The food came out quickly, and Sakura took her chopsticks and began to eat, grateful to have something to focus on. After introductions, lunch had been silent, with all parties focusing on pleasantries that felt forced. Sakura, feeling like she shouldn't interject unless it was necessary, remained completely quiet unless spoken to.

"This is really good, Matsura," Meiling said. "I'm a little peeved you found this place before I did."

Matsura grinned. "You only like expensive places, so of course I'd have found this place before you."

Meiling frowned. "That's not true!" She paused. "Okay, it's true."

Matsura threw his head back and laughed, and Sakura found a smile forming on her lips. When she looked over at Syaoran, however, he was staring at his largely untouched bowl.

Matsura seemed to notice this, too, a somber expression replacing his fading grin. "So, I guess it's time we addressed the elephant in the room."

Sakura felt her heart rev up tenspeed in her chest, and Meiling's face fell. Syaoran looked up, and although Sakura had half-expected him to grimace, his eyes bore a resolute look that she hadn't seen all morning.

"Sure," Syaoran said, as casually as if Matsura had proposed that they discuss dinner plans. He laid down his chopsticks, crossed his arms, and straightened his spine. Meiling's eyes darted to Sakura's.

Matsura adjusted his glasses and folded his hands together before raising his eyes to Syaoran. "I want to start off by saying that I don't want you to think I don't understand. You've always been so mature for your age, but you're also a kid."

Sakura watched Syaoran scowl at this. Internally, though, as much as she hated to think it, she found herself agreeing with Matsura. It seemed like he'd been entrusted with such adult responsibilities since he was a child—but he was only twenty-three. Most people his age, Sakura included, were just starting to jump into adulthood now.

"And yet," Matsura continued, despite Syaoran's glare, "you don't have any of the freedoms someone your age has gotten to experience. The world is always watching you—" at this point, Matsura's eyes turned to Sakura— "and because of that, other people who don't, and shouldn't, expect to be watched also get hurt. You care about those people, and you get hurt, too. It's unfair to both of you. You should both be able to do what you want to make yourselves happy.

"That being said, a large part of our business depends on a certain public perception of you," Matsura said with a sigh. "So, from that perspective, what makes you happy might not be what is best for the business. Which is why I called you the other day to discuss your contract."

Syaoran let out a sharp exhale. "Right. 'Discuss.' What's there to discuss?" He looked Matsura directly in the eyes. His voice remained even, but Sakura saw the old hurt from the past few days return to his eyes. "I've been thinking for the last two days that I'm about to lose my job, so why don't you skip anything unnecessary and just tell me exactly what's going on?"

Matsura opened his mouth to respond, and then he closed it for a moment before speaking again. "It was wrong of me to scare you like that. Nothing's been decided yet, except that we definitely need to push your album back again, if not scrap it altogether."

Meiling scoffed, but it almost sounded more like a choking noise. "Bastard."

Matsura held up his hands and closed his eyes. "I know. I'm sorry." He opened his eyes and looked up at the three of them. "As your friend, Syaoran, I would never want to deny you happiness. If it's freedom you want—to be with Sakura, to not worry about being in hiding or getting in trouble just because you're living your life—then you should take it. But if it's your career you want, I just don't know how—"

"I want both."

"Pardon?" Matsura's brows rose over the rims of his glasses.

"It shouldn't have to be one or the other," Syaoran said, and his eyes fell back to his bowl for half a second before he raised them again. "I want both."

Matsura regarded him in silence. His expression remained blank, and Sakura guessed that he wore this face quite often in his line of business, perhaps to coax more out of the other person.

Syaoran, apparently, was used to this tactic, as he did not break eye contact or speak any more.

Finally, Matsura relented. "Do you think you can have both?"

Syaoran nodded. "I do."

Matsura stared hard for a few seconds longer, and then, much to Sakura's surprise, he turned to her. "Okay. Then, the next step is to ask you, Sakura—do you think he can have both? More importantly, do you think you can be happy, too?"

Sakura was about to respond with a knee-jerk "of course," but she stopped to consider it seriously. She could feel the eyes of all parties on her, and she looked down, trying to focus inside herself instead.

It would mean such a different life for her. But they'd discussed this ad nauseam in England, and remembering the sheer joy in knowing all of him, in being able to love him without worrying that he wouldn't return the same feelings or that it would ruin their relationship—all of that had made her the happiest she'd been in a long time, even knowing of the battle they'd face when they got back. Nothing had changed since then.

"Yes. I do."

Matsura sighed and took a long sip out of his cup of tea, and Sakura felt her stomach do so many flips that she thought she might be ill. She could feel the tension radiating off of Syaoran in waves, and she snuck a glance over at him just in time to see a muscle twitch in his clenched jaw.

"Well," Matsura finally said, wearing a curious smile on his face, "I guess I should let you prove it to me, shouldn't I?"

Meiling let out a relieved laugh almost immediately, but for Syaoran, it seemed to take longer to process: his expression remained neutral for a second before his eyes widened and his lips spread into a slow grin. "Wait—seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Wh—I—"

Syaoran's struggle to find words was interrupted by Meiling's squeal as she rose from her seat and threw her arms around Matsura.

Matsura nearly fell out of his chair at the force of the movement and laughed, readjusting his glasses. Sakura giggled, the relief flowing through her veins like medicine, the sickening weight in her stomach suddenly gone. When her eyes met Syaoran's and she saw how he was beaming, she felt herself smile from ear to ear, too.

"Thank you, Matsura." Syaoran shook his head, blinking a few times, seemingly in shock. "I can't tell you what this means—"

"Don't tell me. Show me. Work hard while you're out of the spotlight. Take some time to really think about how you want things to play out. And then conquer the world when you make your comeback. Not just for the agency—" Matsura added, and here he paused significantly— "but for yourself, too."

When Meiling had suggested "having a meeting at basecamp" in the car after lunch, Sakura had anticipated Meiling's posh white office, or perhaps some other ludicrously well-designed location she'd had yet to see.

Instead, they were at Meiling's apartment, which Sakura would have imagined to be as clean and austere as her office. Surprisingly, instead, it was warm and lived-in, much like a home Sakura would have loved to build if the resources were available to her.

Opaque ivory curtains ran from ceiling to floor, adorning large windows overlooking the park behind Meiling's condo building. Potted plants brightened up the corners of her living room and office area, and touches of brass and lucite in the decor and the clean lines of the furniture pulled the apartment together. In the kitchen, which, to Sakura's surprise, was a bit messy, a shiny red teapot already sat on the stove.

"Have a seat," Meiling urged, hurrying over to the stove. She dumped out the teapot and began to fill it with fresh water. "I'll make us some tea. Sorry about the mess—I passed out last night before I could clean up the kitchen."

"Oh, it's not an issue—" Sakura began.

"Don't listen to her," Syaoran said, taking a seat beside Sakura and grinning. "It's always like this. This is clean for Meiling, actually."

Meiling glared at Syaoran. "Don't make me poison your tea."

Sakura laughed, happy to see Syaoran and Meiling in good spirits again.

"I can't believe how well that went," Meiling said, leaning against the counter as she waited for the teapot. "I was expecting to have to fight."

"Me, too," Syaoran sighed.

"What do you think made him fold so fast?"

Syaoran leaned back in his chair. "I don't know… I think a lot of it was a bluff."

"Oh, come on. I know Matsura can be a dick, but not that much, right? Not enough to rip you away from your getaway trip just to see how serious you are about staying on the label."

"No, I really do think so," Syaoran said, sounding more certain than before. "Because he's putting a lot on the line for me, and he wanted to make sure it's worth it. No sense in investing in a client who doesn't want to produce the best for your business."

Meiling pursed her lips. "Still. He should have trusted you more."

Sakura nodded once, inclined to agree with Meiling.

Syaoran glanced over at her and smiled softly. "Sure. But what reason have I given him to trust me?"

"Oh, I don't know, Syaoran," Meiling said, turning her eyes back to the now-whistling kettle. She turned off the stove. "Maybe years of loyalty and more money than any independent label CEO could dream of?"

Syaoran chuckled, but he shook his head. "You know it's not that simple. Things change, people change. Matsura's been burned by fickle artists before. I can't blame him for wanting to see how serious I was about wanting to continue all of this after all the news stories. I'm not going to be a singer forever, you know? And I guess, lately, with the decisions I've made, it might seem like I want more normality than a musical career can afford me."

"I cannot believe you are defending this level of foolishness from him, but I'm not going to argue too hard when things turned out in our favor." Meiling poured the tea into porcelain cups made to look like flower petals rounded into a cup-like shape. She carried them over to the table and set Sakura's down first before plopping Syaoran's down unceremoniously in front of him and then sitting across from them with her own. "So, the real question is, what now?"

Syaoran shrugged. "You heard the man. We're meeting with him tomorrow to strategize."

"Yes, but you and I—and Sakura, now—we need to have a strategy of our own. In case Matsura decides you're too 'fickle' again." Meiling scowled as she lifted her teacup to her lips. She turned her eyes to Sakura, and her expression softened immediately. "Sakura, I'm sure you haven't ever encountered a situation where you'd need media training before."

Sakura quickly shook her head.

"Well, hopefully, for a little while, it'll stay that way. We'll try to keep the paparazzi out of your hair, but—well, you know from experience how impossible a task that is." Meiling leaned toward them, hands folded on top of the table. "I know you already know that it won't be easy, but I can't stress to you just how not easy it's going to be. My guess is the public will forget after a while and move on, but it will take a long time to get them used to you. I'm thinking you'll have to lie low for over a year. Just let that sink in."

Sakura didn't know what to say. What did lying low entail, anyway? "That's okay. I feel like I've done that my whole life."

Meiling shook her head. "I mean it in a different way from what you're thinking. Limiting how often you leave the house, and more often than not, checking in with me or my team to make sure it's okay. Decoys when it's obvious where you're going. Security tailing you. That kind of thing. With a scandal like this, and Syaoran's level of fame, it is going to be unimaginable levels of intrusiveness. People will probably figure out your new phone number. You'll get death threats. You'll be photographed, and you'll be ridiculed. There will be news stories reported about you, and they won't be true. You will never want to check your phone or your computer because everywhere you look, you will have to worry there's something new and awful about you out there. You have to be ready for all of that."

Sakura glanced over at Syaoran, who looked more distraught than she felt, even though surely, this was not news to him. She reached under the table and put a hand on his knee, and his own hand covered hers in an instant.

"Well... I'm ready."

Meiling rose a brow, and then she nodded. "Okay, then. On a broad level, here's what I suggest..."

Meiling's and Matsura's plan was a fairly simple one: stay out of sight as much as humanly possible while the story blew over, and let the public forget about this scandal while they worked on Syaoran's long-term comeback strategy.

"Something crazier and more talkworthy will happen eventually," Meiling had said with confidence. "It always does."

Syaoran, of course, was used to plans like these—after all, the entire last eighteen months of his life had been a cycle of enduring a public scandal, waiting out the storm, trying to make a comeback, and repeating the above.

He was hyper-wary, however, of how the plan would affect Sakura. Unsurprisingly, she'd jumped headlong into it, sweetly enthusiastic about how it could bring Syaoran's career back to life. In a way, though, this made him even more cautious—what if she was faking her happiness for his sake? The last thing he wanted was for her to suffer from this new kind of loneliness in silence.

He found himself struggling with this concern almost constantly. He was aware, of course, that she was an adult who'd made this decision on her own, tougher than she looked and tenacious underneath that quiet sweetness. And she wasn't totally alone when he was gone from the house; Meiling and Tomoyo visited her often and even seemed to have become friends with each other through the process.

To make the isolation further bearable, any stretch of days where he could find the time, Syaoran would plan short getaways around the continent, places where they could roam together without fear of recognition or a tabloid presence. Sakura came alive on those days, shouting her laughter as she pulled him into the salty waves at the beach and gasping with delight at a hidden-away garden in the middle of a foreign city. And when they couldn't get away, they made a game of weaving through the city in disguise, donning wigs and masks and sunglasses when it was pitch black out, stifling their laughter as they ducked past strangers who might occasionally glance curiously their way. (When a tabloid article came out with grainy photos of Sakura with blue hair and Syaoran with gold-rimmed sunglasses and a surgical mask on, speculating as to the identity of the couple, Meiling sternly told them to put a stop to those outings immediately, or to get better disguises, at the very least.)

Syaoran knew, though, that visits from friends and holidays to other countries and escapist jaunts around town, lovely as they were, made a poor substitute for a normal life. And as strong as Sakura was, the sudden loss of a normal life could bring even the strongest individual to her knees. The Sakura he'd known before the scandal had enjoyed the kind of freedom that could only come with normalcy and anonymity—going where she pleased when she pleased, submitting her work with her name on it without shame, and certainly not having to worry constantly about being tailed by paparazzi or hurt by obsessive anti-fans. Knowing that she'd been stripped of that life and aware of what that could do to one's mental stamina, Syaoran kept a close eye on her as he fielded the myriad meetings and recording sessions that suddenly seemed to take up the vast majority of his time.

But as the weeks turned into months, Sakura never appeared unhappy or dissatisfied, waking up with a smile on her face and smiling when they kissed good night. He still asked, probably too frequently, about how she was feeling, whether she felt like she needed anything, whether all this running and hiding was getting to be too much—and always, she answered in the same way, still smiling:

No, silly. I knew it'd be like this. Meiling warned me, remember? Don't worry.

Syaoran would search her face each time, looking for some sign of discontent, some indication that she was lying, but he could never find anything—and so he'd kiss her forehead and go back about his day, relieved but still uneasy.

"Wow, Sakura," Tomoyo said, eyes wide. "This looks incredible!"

Meiling raised a brow at the still-bubbling pot of seafood and tofu stew that Sakura set down on the table. The sharp, spicy aroma instantly filled the air. "It smells amazing."

Sakura smiled as she removed her oven mitts. When Syaoran had called to say Eriol had asked him and Matsura to come out with an old business partner in the film industry and that he'd be home late, Sakura had initially planned on spending the night alone. But it had been a few weeks since she'd seen Meiling and Tomoyo together, and so she'd invited them over for dinner and a movie. She was glad, now, to have the company; she imagined she'd have been just a bit lonely by herself. "Hopefully, it tastes just as good. Dig in!"

Tomoyo reached her spoon into the pot and sipped. Her eyes lit up. "This is delicious!"

Meiling followed suit. "I'm really impressed," she said, taking another spoonful. "You actually made this? It's restaurant-quality."

Sakura blushed and waved a hand dismissively. "We're always eating ramen or snack foods when you two come over. With all the time I have on my hands these days, I've been practicing, and I thought I'd treat you."

"Hey, hey! There's nothing wrong with snack food. Or ramen, for that matter," Meiling said. "But not to worry. I've got just the thing to keep us grounded and make sure things don't get too fancy here…" She dug into her bag and sat back up, producing three large bottles of soju.

Sakura and Tomoyo clapped their hands delightedly. Meiling let out a laugh that sounded more like a cackle and stood to get shot glasses from the kitchen. When she returned, she set down three glasses and poured without ceremony.

"Your boyfriends are getting wasted at a business dinner and I've had the longest week of my life at work. It's time to drink."

A bottle and a half later, Sakura's head was spinning, and she wondered as she poked absently at her somewhat numb face if this had been such a good idea after all. She hadn't been intoxicated like this since she'd been in London with Syaoran, whom she suddenly missed very much, even though he'd only been gone since that morning. She smiled watching Meiling and Tomoyo cry with laughter at a funny story Tomoyo had relayed about Eriol, though, and found herself feeling grateful again that they'd come over. For their presence in her life, really. Things had become so much lonelier since the scandal; even though Sakura had never kept a wide social circle before, the lack of freedom to see whom she wanted when she wanted had seemed to mute her life in ways she couldn't explain.

"Sakura?" Tomoyo tilted her head. "Are you okay? You've been pretty quiet."

Sakura raised her eyebrows as Meiling swiveled her head to look at her. "Me? I'm fine! Just thinking."

"Well, this is not a night for thinking. This is a night for drinking." Meiling stood and refilled everyone's shot glasses.

Sakura giggled. It crossed her mind again that she was already quite drunk, and that she should probably turn this one down. But the three seconds in which the girls would all raise their glasses to each other and tilt their heads back to tip the liquor into their mouths and go ahhh while savoring the burn of the alcohol souded awfully fun. So, she followed procedure and swallowed the glass gleefully.

But as soon as the liquid seared its way down her belly, somehow, Sakura knew it had been a mistake. Everything suddenly felt horribly wrong. To her horror, her lower lip trembled, and without reason, tears filled her eyes.

"Sakura?" Tomoyo repeated, and she scooted her chair closer to her. She laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Sakura shook her head furiously and drew in a deep, shuddering breath, at which point she heard Meiling mutter a regretful "oh, boy" before also scooting her chair closer.

Tomoyo took Sakura into her arms, at which point Sakura burst into sobs into her best friend's shoulder. She realized faintly that she had not cried like this in months—also not since London.

"Was it—was it the alcohol? Did I force too much on you?" Meiling asked, her voice uncharacteristically plaintive. She could feel Meiling's hand gently pulling her hair back and gathering it into a short ponytail before letting go.

Sakura shook her head and heaved a sob. If she could stop crying, she'd have laughed, touched at her concern.

"Shh," Tomoyo whispered, rubbing small circles into Sakura's back. "It's okay. Whatever it is, it'll be okay."

But it wouldn't, Sakura thought. Because she understood now that without realizing it, she'd been harboring a secret. And now that she suddenly knew what it was, she felt wretched and terrified. She continued to cry for a few more moments, letting Tomoyo rock her back and forth and Meiling take over back-rubbing duties, and again, Sakura felt the depths of her gratitude for how wonderful her friends were.

When she'd calmed to mere hiccups, Meiling handed her tissues she'd procured from the washroom. "So, are you going to tell us what just happened?" she asked, brows furrowed over her ruby eyes. "Because that was… alarming."

Sakura hiccuped and wiped at her eyes and nose. "I know," she mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," Tomoyo said gently, maintaining her grip on Sakura's shoulders. "We just want to know you're okay."

Sakura shook her head. More tears leaked out of her eyes. "Th-that's the problem. I don't know if I am."

Meiling's face darkened. "Did Syaoran say something shitty? If so, I swear—"

"No!" Sakura said hurriedly. "No. Of course not." She glanced down at her lap in guilt. "He would never."

"Then?"

Sakura drew in a deep breath and looked back up into the eyes of her two friends. They were both watching her with so much love that she wanted to hold them forever. In that moment, she knew she didn't need to be afraid to say what she needed to say-at least, not to them.

"Okay, I…" Sakura chewed her lower lip. "I've been feeling this way for a while, I think. But every time it came to mind, I'd push it away. And so I never let myself feel it until tonight, when I let my guard down. Because it's such a scary feeling, and I feel horrible for feeling this way… I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it."

Tomoyo looked at her with concern, while Meiling's own expression took on one of knowing. In it, though, Sakura also saw understanding, and it spurred her on.

"I love Syaoran so much. I'm so happy we're together. But I'm just..." Sakura shook her head, feeling bile rise up her throat just at the thought of even saying it out loud. She swallowed and forced the words out of her mouth. "I don't know if I'm happy overall. Living like this. I'm... I think, maybe, I'm… feeling a little trapped. And scared. But I feel awful saying that because I know how hard Syaoran is trying…"

"Oh, Sakura," Tomoyo said softly. "That's not awful. Not at all."

Meiling nodded. "Honestly, I'm shocked you didn't start feeling this way sooner."

Sakura swallowed. "R-really?"

"Of course, you dummy," Meiling said, her eyes gentle. "This—what you and Syaoran are doing—it's necessary right now if you guys want to be together, sure. But it's not normal. Not by any stretch of the imagination."

"Right," Tomoyo said. "You're not used to this, Sakura. You've never had to experience lockdown and a constant fear of being chased by photographers and having vicious things said about you. And why should you? You don't deserve any of it."

"I guess... I just thought at the outset, I love him so much that it would get me through anything." Sakura sighed shakily. "And now that I'm... unhappy, it makes me feel like it wasn't enough. Like my love wasn't strong enough. I feel like a terrible person. Like I'm letting him down."

"That's just not true," Meiling said fiercely, and Sakura looked up at her in surprise. Meiling's dark eyebrows were pulled tightly over her eyes, a frown settling into place on her lips. "That is absolutely not true, and don't ever tell yourself that. This is not your fault, Sakura. You are not unhappy because you aren't good enough for Syaoran. You are unhappy because that is how any normal person would feel in this situation. You are more than enough, and you know how protective I am of him. But I've watched you hold on so much longer than anyone could ever expect you to."

Sakura let out something halfway between a sob and a laugh and swiped again at her eyes with the crumpled piece of tissue in her hand. "Th-thanks."

Tomoyo reached out to stroke Sakura's hair. "You don't have to keep resigning yourself to unhappiness, Sakura. The people who love you hate seeing you like this. And I know that's not what Syaoran would want."

Sakura stared at her empty shot glass miserably. "But it's the way it has to be. If I want Syaoran to be happy, and if I want to be with him, which I do, this is how we have to do it." She looked back up at her friends once more. "That's it. So, I guess there's nothing to discuss anymore."

Meiling chewed for a moment at her lower lip. "Sakura…"

Sakura shook her head. "It's okay." She smiled. "Thank you both, really. For being there for me. I'm glad I got this off my chest. Knowing I've told two people who care about me so much—it'll help me cope."

Tomoyo and Meiling exchanged concerned glances that did not escape Sakura, but the foggy part of her brain let it pass without further analysis.

Tomoyo drew in a sharp breath, and then she smiled, reaching out to lay a hand on Sakura's arm. "Of course, Sakura. Anytime. You know we're both here for you."

Sakura nodded. Tears blurred her vision again, and she hurriedly blinked them away. It was far easier, she thought, when this had all been buried beneath the surface. "Okay, there's some soju left, right? We should finish it. And we haven't even watched our movie! Meiling, you pour the rest and I'll go get the movie started..."

Syaoran punched in the code to his front door and let himself in, his mind solely set on showering and crawling into bed. Eriol had insisted on going to the home of one of their dinner partners for drinks after they'd left the restaurant, and finding that he'd been genuinely enjoying himself, Syaoran had agreed. But he hadn't stayed out that late in quite some time, and now all he wanted to do was lie in bed next to Sakura and sleep for twelve hours. He fully expected Sakura to already be asleep and Meiling and Tomoyo to be gone—so when he walked through the kitchen and saw the lights on in the living room, he paused, surprised, before surveying the scene.

Meiling sat against the sofa, idly watching a movie playing on mute on the television screen while scrolling through her phone. Sakura lay fast asleep with her head in Meiling's lap. The coffee table before them was littered with empty soju bottles and half-eaten bags of snacks. Syaoran smiled to himself before making his way toward the couch.

"Hey," he whispered. "Fun night?"

"Hi," Meiling whispered back, looking up and putting down her phone. She half-smiled. "It was fine. How about you?"

Syaoran brushed aside some of the snack bags and sat on the coffee table. "It went well. They want to meet with me next week to talk about singing the title track for their latest drama."

Meiling raised her eyebrows. "Impressive. That'd be a nice way to get your name back into the public without drawing too much attention at once."

"That's what I was thinking, too," Syaoran said. "Anyway. We can talk about it tomorrow. Not that you're not welcome here, of course, but I didn't expect you to be here so late. Everything okay?"

Meiling was silent, expressionless for a moment, before sighing. "Um. Why don't we go talk in another room?"

Syaoran felt his pulse speed up ever so slightly, and he took in a breath, schooling himself. He couldn't let himself jump to the worst conclusions straightaway, no matter how fidgety Meiling seemed. "Sure."

Carefully, Meiling slid out from beneath Sakura, who remained unconscious on the sofa. Syaoran led them down the hall and into the studio, shutting the door slowly so as not to let it slam.

He leaned against the door, not bothering to sit. He had a feeling he wouldn't want to, particularly when Meiling chose not to as well.

"So," she began, flexing and curling her fingers, her gaze focused on the various guitars hanging on the walls. "I don't know if it's my place to tell you this, so... that's why I'm hesitating. But if I don't, I don't know if Sakura ever will. And I can't let her suffer in silence."

Syaoran's heart dropped into his stomach immediately. He had a sick feeling he already knew where this was going.

Meiling finally met his eyes, and her own were full of sorrow, her brows furrowed in a way that almost made her look like she was in pain. "Sakura is not doing well like this, Syaoran. This plan we came up with to keep you guys secluded and hidden away—it just wasn't the right plan. I really think it's suffocating her."

Syaoran closed his eyes and let out a breath. Of course it was, he thought. How could it not? Despite his best efforts to minimize the absurdity of it all for Sakura, this was not a life that was sustainable to anyone except people like him, who'd been used to living under a microscope for practically his entire life. He felt as though the guilt might crush his insides entirely.

"But I've asked her—" he breathed— "I've been asking her—"

"Of course you have. And of course she's been lying to you."

Syaoran groaned. "How? She was never that good a liar."

"Well, apparently, when it comes to you and your career, she is."

Syaoran considered this in silence for some time, chewing his lower lip. This moment had felt so obvious and inevitable over the last few months that the anticipation and anxiety of it had been consuming him. Even so, he still felt wholly unprepared for how painful it was.

He swallowed, finally looking back up at Meiling. "What did she say, then?"

"Well, it was my fault, really... I was pretty much force-feeding her shots and she got pretty drunk and started crying out of nowhere. And she said she's happy with you, but she's also scared and feeling isolated, naturally. But she thinks that's just her cross to bear, I guess, if she wants to keep being with you, which she very clearly does."

"God," Syaoran whispered, running a hand through his hair. The memories of Sakura panicked, sobbing, then catatonic, back in that hotel room all those months ago, cycled through his brain. He felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

"I'm so sorry, Syaoran," Meiling murmured, shaking her head. "I fucked this up. I calculated it all wrong."

"How?" Syaoran said, incredulous. "How is this possibly your fault? If anything, it's mine for being so blind—"

"No. I came up with this plan with your comeback in mind but with so little regard for Sakura. I knew it'd be hard, of course… but I justified it to myself by saying it'd only be temporary. And, you know, the comfortable lifestyle, living with and being romantically involved with a huge star—it'd be enough for a lot of people to at least water down the paparazzi and the rumors, to make all of this more palatable."

Syaoran shook his head. "None of that would matter to her."

"Exactly," Meiling said, her voice quiet. "And that's where I got it wrong. She's been living independently for a long time, up until you. So in more than one way, since all this has happened, she's been trapped. So... I think we have to fix it."

Syaoran sighed, pressing a hand to his chest, as if massaging the flesh right over his heart might make it stop hurting. "Of course we do," he said softly. "There's really only one answer, isn't there?"

Meiling drew in a sharp breath. She looked a little like she might cry. "Are you sure?"

Oddly enough, Syaoran had never been more certain of anything in his life. "Absolutely."

Sakura, thankfully, remained dead asleep throughout the entirety of Syaoran's conversation with Meiling. After he bade Meiling goodbye for the evening, Syaoran made his way back to the living room and sat beside Sakura's sleeping form for a moment, leaning forward on his knees and taking her hand in his. He pressed his lips to her knuckles and closed his eyes.

I love you. I'm so happy I met you that whenever I wake up, I think, "thank you" and try to put my gratitude out into the universe.

I want you to be happy, too.

I really, really love you.

Sakura's stirring broke his reverie, and Syaoran glanced down to see Sakura gazing up at him, eyes half-closed still with sleep.

"Hello," he whispered, and he felt a near-overpowering rush of love swell inside him as Sakura smiled sweetly at him.

"Hi. How was dinner?"

Syaoran pressed a hand down onto the cushion beside her and leaned forward to give her a kiss on the forehead. "It was good. Eriol sends his regards. Met a few new people."

"Oh, good... people who are going to help with your comeback?" Sakura replied with a yawn, and the genuine happiness in her voice made his heart ache.

"Mm. Maybe. How was your night?"

"It was okay."

"Just okay?"

"Yeah, it was fine." Sakura took his free hand, pressing her face to it. She closed her eyes for a moment, her smile fading. She brushed her lips against his palm.

Syaoran felt the ache in his chest return full-force as he saw the evidence of Meiling's words in the furrow of Sakura's brows, the way she pressed her lips together, the way she suddenly wouldn't look at him. He reached his fingers up to stroke her hair, brushing some strands away from her forehead. "You okay?" he asked, even though he was sure she wasn't.

At that, Sakura crumpled. A sob rose up out of her mouth from somewhere deep inside her chest, and Syaoran's gut twisted painfully.

"Oh, Sakura," he whispered, pulling her up and into him and cradling her. He swallowed hard, rocking her back and forth as she wept into his shoulder. He could practically feel his heart cracking. She did not offer up any explanation, and perhaps selfishly, he did not ask. After all, he already knew the reason for her grief; if he heard it from her own lips when she was like this, he didn't know if he could take it.

So instead, he focused on telling her what he knew was true, over and over: "It's all going to be okay."

Hi, guys! It's been a long while. I apologize sincerely for how long I've been gone from this story. Not only is adulthood a major time suck, but the closer we get to the end, the more perfectionist I am about writing it, which has been more of a hindrance than a help lately. After a year of writing, deleting, writing some more, deleting some more, and so on, I still don't love this chapter, as I think the pacing is everywhere, but I do think it's necessary to get us to the end.

I have so much love for this story and the people still out there reading it, and I want to say thank you to all the people who continue to review and send me messages on tumblr checking in on me. You really all are the best, and I hope these next final few chapters deliver everything you want. I broke what was originally supposed to be a VERY long chapter 28 into two, so much of chapter 29 is pre-written, as is the end of the story. I'll keep going, and in the meantime, please keep reading and keep in touch! I really do read and love every review and every message I get. Thanks as always for reading.

Love,

boreumdal