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Perfect Offerings

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS characters;

just the plot of this story.

Syaoran sat at his usual table at the Akatsuki Inn, his eyes following Sakura as she walked towards him. The faintest smile played on her lips, and for a moment, Syaoran found himself caught - his breath, his thoughts, all mesmerized by the way the sunlight filtered through the wooden slats of the windows, casting soft delicate beams across her hair, making it shimmer like silk against the soft afternoon light.

It had been more than a week since he last saw her at the Takeda estate, and during that time, he had tried - unsuccessfully - to unravel the chaos of his emotions. He knew what he wanted. He wanted her. But how could he reconcile that desire with the harsh reality of her future with another man? How could he, a swordsman and assassin bound by duty, allow himself to want her without jeopardizing everything he was? Wanting her meant feeling and feeling meant caring. That was dangerous for someone like him. His life was built on detachment, on cold decisions and lethal actions.

Why can't I stop wanting her?

Even now, with her approaching him, his heart did not care for his inner conflict. It only beat faster. I want to protect her, he reminded himself. But to truly protect her, she would need to be close. How close could he dare allow her to be? How much of himself could he risk in order to keep her near?

Watching her right then, he wondered, not for the first time, how he had managed to resist killing the doctor all this time. Perhaps it was the urgency of his work. The toymaker had spilled the names of many of his accomplices, and the Tenno no migete had been relentlessly dispatching them.

"Good evening, Li-san," Sakura's voice was light and cheerful, drawing his attention back to her. His heart thudded in his chest, his mind clearing of all thoughts but her.

He averted his gaze, before she could see the effects she was having on him. She lowered herself to her knees with a knowing smile, and placed her hands on top the chabudai.

"I heard you came in week before last," she continued, her eyes warm, though a shadow of something like curiosity lingered behind them. "And you asked for me."

His throat tightened, his thoughts tangled in a knot as he tried to form words.

"Yes," he muttered, his voice low. "You… you weren't here."

"I wasn't feeling well," she said.

Syaoran's brow furrowed.

Why are you lying?

"A server told me you were with your fiancé."

Sakura's body stiffened ever so slightly. A small, practiced smile returned to her lips, but it did not quite reach her eyes - eyes that were now avoiding his.

"Yes," she said, her voice faltering just a little. "I... have a fiancé. I was with him. But also... I wasn't feeling well," she repeated, as though she were trying to convince both him and herself.

Syaoran studied her intently, his gaze following the subtle movements of her hands, the slight tremble in her fingers. He could tell she did not want to address the presence of Takeda Hito in her life. And that caused a faint, unexpected wave of relief to sweep over him.

"Are you feeling better today?" he asked, his voice gentle, and holding genuine concern.

She nodded, the smile on her lips growing more natural this time.

"Yes, thank you." Then, she sat up straight and asked, "What would you like to eat?"

Syaoran imagined she would appear just as kind and devoted when she was asking Takeda for his choice of evening meals.

"Dim sum," he said before he could think better of it, his mind still caught in the disquiet of his thoughts.

The dumplings had always been a source of comfort for him in a past he barely thought about, and now, for reasons he could not explain, he needed to feel that safe.

Sakura's expression dropped, just slightly, but it was enough for Syaoran to feel her discomfort spread through him. His heart sank. Had he said something wrong? Her smile was shaky as she glanced down at her hands, and he regretted his words immediately.

How much had his request burdened her?

"The cook... he's in a bad mood today," she said, her voice timid, almost apologetic. "I don't think I'll be able to persuade him to make something new."

"If it's too much trouble, you don't have to," he said.

But Sakura was not listening to him. Her eyes were surveying the room, her brows low on her forehead as if considering something.

"There aren't many guests yet," she said slowly, as if weighing her options. Then, with a tentative smile, she added, "Would you mind if I try to make it? I've been practici-" A faint flush spread across her cheeks as she seemed to second-guess herself. "Ano... would you mind?"

Syaoran shook his head, and without another word, she hurried downstairs, disappearing into the kitchen with determination.

Just now... had she mentioned that she had been practicing making dim sum? Or perhaps she had meant that she had practiced cooking for Takeda Hito?

When Sakura returned, she was carrying a small wooden bowl in her hands, the scent of freshly prepared dumplings wafting in the air. She placed it down before him, and as her grin spread wide across her face, like sunlight breaking through clouds, Syaoran could see how much this moment meant to her.

"I could only make six," she said, her voice a little shy, a little uncertain. "Making more would've taken too long."

She placed a pair of chopsticks beside the bowl with the kind of enthusiasm that only someone deeply invested in their work could have.

"I hope you like them."

Syaoran could see the vulnerability beneath the comment, the way she watched him expectantly, as if her happiness rested on his approval. His fingers brushed against the chopsticks, and he picked them up. As he examined the dumplings, he found himself lost in the image of Sakura - his Sakura - preparing these simple, perfect offerings just for him on another occasion, in another place, where it was just the two of them.

He selected one of the dumplings, the delicate steam still rising from it, and took a careful bite. The sounds of the inn faded into the background, the hum of conversation and the clinking of dishes replaced by the gentle rhythm of his breath. All that existed was the quiet space between them, her presence enveloping him in a way that made his shoulders relax and his mind clear.

"Do you like it? Is it right?"

There it was again - her hope, her silent need for his approval. Syaoran could understand why Hito was so fixated on her that day - it must be her lips. Right then, as the savoury flavour of the pork dissolved on his tongue, the thought entered his mind to press his mouth to them. But he pushed it away, focusing instead on the warm, comforting taste of the dumpling in his mouth.

"It's good. Everything is right."

And it was. The taste was perfect; each bite was as sweet as the woman who had made it.

Sakura's face lit up at his praise, and something inside Syaoran came alive. It was not just the simple act of appreciation for the food. It was the way she made everyone around her feel valued. It was heartening and deeply compelling. She was not just a server, nor was she just a woman cooking food. She was... everything. That simple moment of shared joy was all Syaoran needed to remember why he could not let her go.

"You don't have to pay for it," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I snuck the ingredients from dishes that were already being prepared. It'll be our little secret."

Syaoran had to suppress the smile threatening to spread across his face. Our little secret. The words echoed in his mind, and he found he liked the idea. Keeping secrets with her, however small and innocent they might be, somehow felt... intimate. Forbidden, yet simple.

The gesture, the quiet rebellion against the rules while remaining as endearing as she was, made her even more enticing in his eyes. As he picked up another dumpling, savouring the perfect combination of flavours, Sakura who had been observing him all this time, tilted her head.

"You always look too serious," she said, a teasing edge to her voice. "But you don't look too serious right now. It's nice."

Syaoran's brows raised, surprised by her remarks. For some reason, he did not know how to respond. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly unsure of how to act. He could not help but wonder - did she want to see more of that? More of him? A part of him wanted to show her that side of himself, to make her smile more, to give her something beyond the serious, stoic face he wore for the world. But... could he? Did such a side of him even exist anymore?

Before he could gather his thoughts, Sakura spoke again.

"I have to get back to work, Li-san," she said, her voice polite but reluctant. "Please excuse me."

He nodded, watching her as she returned to her duties. For a long while, he stayed seated, her presence lingering like the scent of the dumplings - a quiet reminder of the fleeting connection they had shared.

He knew he should leave. He knew his presence here, a burden on her time, would only make things harder. But the thought of walking away, of returning to the cold solitude of his life and work, suddenly felt unbearable.

Sakura adjusted the bag of food in her arms as she walked through the quiet streets. The day's tasks at the Akatsuki Inn had been long, and by the time the evening bell rang, she was eager to return home. The staff was sometimes allowed to take home food at the end of the day, and tonight she had picked up a small share for her family - rice, a bit of grilled fish, and a few vegetables. It was not much, but it would be enough to add variety to dinner that night.

The streets of Tomoeda were empty save for a few scattered pedestrians making their way home. The aftermath of the Tenno no migete's bloody and brutal executions two days ago still hung heavy in the air, leaving a palpable tension in the village. Everyone had been keeping to themselves, trying to avoid drawing attention and any further trouble.

As she walked, Sakura's mind wandered back to the unsettling events. She could recall the deep rumble of the earth and the distant explosions that had shaken the village - a brutal declaration of the battles between the Tenno no migete and the Mahotsukai. It had all unfolded so suddenly, so violently.

That night, after the first tremour shook her house, she had cautiously peeked out of the window along with her family. Her heart had raced, unsure of what she might see. Just as the rumbling intensified, they had witnessed it - flashes of blinding white light streaking across the dark sky. They were like lightning, but more intense - unnatural and full of raw power that crackled in the air. She had stood frozen, unable to look away, the light brighter than the moon itself before it disappeared into the night. It lasted only a moment, but that moment had shaken her to the core, her heart still pounding long after it ended.

Tonight, the air was crisp, the cold of the evening creeping in. Lanterns hung from posts along the road, their soft, flickering glow illuminating the path just enough to make out the occasional figure passing by. The sounds of her geta clicking against the gravel was the only noise accompanying her steps, a rhythm that felt almost too loud in the stillness of the night.

Suddenly, something shifted in the shadows to her right. She spun around and gasped as a figure stepped forward, his silhouette sharp against the dim light. Her breath caught in her throat, and her pulse quickened, but the moment her eyes met his face, she exhaled in relief.

"Hoe-eee! Li-san! You scared me!" she said, shaking her head, trying to steady her breath.

It had been two weeks since she last saw him, and now, here he stood. She had missed his presence at the inn but seeing him like this - standing before her in the evening chill - was both a relief and a shock. He was taller than she remembered. She had mostly seen him already seated, but now, standing in front of her, his full height made her feel small and almost fragile in comparison.

What struck her most, though, was the intensity in his gaze. His eyes seemed sharper than ever, as though they could pierce through her very soul. She could not hold his gaze for long, feeling an unfamiliar self-consciousness rise within her. But then, she noticed it - the bruise. A darkened mark near the edge of Syaoran's chin stood out against his otherwise composed appearance. It was not the kind of bruise that came from something trivial. It was too fresh to be from a week ago, and too deliberate to be an accident.

"It's late for a woman to be walking on her own," he said, his tone suggesting it was simply a fact he needed to state.

"Yes, I suppose it is," she answered, her cheeks growing hot. "But I've walked this route countless times. I'll be fine."

He did not seem convinced.

"We were short-staffed today," she continued, eager to offer a reasonable explanation. "Some of my co-workers didn't come in because they're sick. I stayed behind to help clean up. Normally, Yamazaki-kun walks me part of the way, but he's sick too. My brother usually meets me by now, but he must have gotten tied up with work. If I hurry, I'll be home very soon."

There was silence; the only sound the rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant calls of the night animals. Then, Syaoran spoke, his voice adamant.

"I'll walk with you."

It was not a suggestion; it was a statement, as though there was no question in his mind that he would accompany her, regardless of her thoughts on the matter. Something inside her stirred - surprise, yes, but also a flutter in her belly that made her heart race.

She shook her head.

"I can't ask you to do that, Li-san. If you walk me home, you'll have to walk all the way back to yours. That's too dangerous, especially at this hour."

"I have my wakizashi," he said.

Sakura smiled, though there was a hint of disbelief in her eyes. Some men carried weapons and thought they were invincible. Few had the skill to back up such bravado. If only she could tell him she was capable of protecting herself with an invisible shield if she really had to use her magic. The thought of something happening to him tonight filled her with dread - she would never forgive herself if such a thing came to pass. Li Syaoran might have the look of someone who took things seriously, but she could not help but feel he lacked the raw ferocity needed for a real fight. And he was only one man.

"My brother wouldn't like you walking me home," she said, trying to dissuade him.

"He would like it less if you walked home alone," Syaoran countered.

Sakura grimaced inwardly. He had no idea what her brother was like. Stubborn, fiercely protective, and always seeing danger around every corner. She could argue more, but she knew there was no point. She would give in this time - after all, what girl could resist the company of such a handsome, considerate man?

"Then I suppose it's fine," she relented, the edge of resistance gone from her voice. "Just promise me you'll get home safely?"

He nodded and they continued down the empty streets, their pace slower than it should have been, given the time of night. The shops were closing, and the last of the pedestrians had already disappeared behind closed doors. Sakura shifted the bag in her hands, the weight beginning to bite at her flesh.

Syaoran suddenly stopped walking and extended an open hand to her.

"Let me help you," he said.

Sakura hesitated, a flush of embarrassment spreading across her cheeks.

"It's fine," she replied quickly.

"Give it to me," he told her, stern and insistent.

With a small smile, Sakura placed the bag into his hands. He adjusted the bag carefully before they continued walking side by side, her heart racing in time with her thoughts. Sakura stole a quick glance at him from the corner of her eye and she found herself hoping that her kimono did not look rural today.

"Thank you," she said. "My palms were beginning to ache. Especially since I've had a long day."

Syaoran said nothing in response, but she could tell he heard her. There was a slight limp in his step - something she had not noticed earlier. Had he been in some kind of altercation? Perhaps. And yet, here he was assisting her, despite carrying a burden of his own.

"Are you all right?" she asked, looking at him with worry.

"I'm fine," he answered.

"But your chin is bruised. And you're limping."

Syaoran glanced at her, unruffled.

"It's nothing," he said. "Just a little scratch and a bit of tiredness from walking all day."

It did not look like "nothing." But the subtle limp in his step seemed less pronounced now, as though he was trying to hide it from her.

"I can tell you're in pain."

"I've had worse," he said. "You don't have to worry about me."

Sakura watched him closely, her concern still present. His aloof nature, his ability to endure so much without showing weakness, only made her worry more. She could not help but feel the helplessness building within her - there was only so much she could do for him in this moment.

She hesitated, unsure of whether to ask the question that had been on her mind ever since they first met. Something about his presence, his mannerisms, the way he carried himself - it all seemed so familiar, yet foreign at the same time. Finally, she decided to be brave and pushed the doubt aside.

"Are you... a samurai, Li-san?"

She was not sure what answer she was hoping for, but she felt as though understanding who he truly was would help her make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that had been stirring within her since he came into her life. Syaoran turned his head just enough to meet her gaze, his brown eyes dark and unreadable.

"No," he answered, simply.

Sakura squinted, her mind working to make sense of it.

"But you carry the wakizashi," she pointed out. "Isn't that a weapon only samurai are allowed to carry?"

"I have permission to carry it. It's… a matter of personal responsibility."

His words hung in the air, heavy with something unspoken.

"I've never seen you outside the inn before," she said. "Do you live far from here?"

"I don't live in Tomoeda," he said. "But I've been visiting for some time."

"Visiting?" she said. That would explain his weeks of absences from the inn from time to time. "Are you here for business?"

"Something like that." The vagueness of his answer, the subtle evasiveness, further deepened the mystery around him. "You ask a lot of questions," he noted. "Even when you're not at work."

Sakura laughed nervously.

"I guess I'm just curious."

A brief silence fell between them, but then Syaoran's voice broke it.

"May I ask you a question, Kinomoto-san?"

Sakura felt something shift in the air between them, as though this was no longer just a casual conversation.

"Of course," she replied.

"When are you getting married?"

Sakura blinked, taken aback by the bluntness of his question. She had not expected something so personal, so direct, from him.

"In three months," she answered, bashfully.

Her gaze soared up to meet his, but she quickly looked away again, afraid of what she might find in his eyes. He did not react immediately. Instead, his voice, when it came, was almost a murmur.

"Three months..." There was something in his voice that suggested he was considering more than just the number. Then, after a beat, he asked, "What do you think of him? Your fiancé?"

Sakura gasped. The question was so unexpected, so personal, that for a moment, she simply stared at him. No one, except her closest family, had asked her this directly. She glanced away for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She had no idea why he wanted to know, why he of all people would care.

"He's a good man," she said, the words slipping out as if by instinct, but they felt hollow in her mouth. "Takeda-sama is kind, reliable, established. I'm happy to marry him. I know it's what my family wants, and... I'm honoured to fulfill my duty!"

Another silence stretched out between them. The words she had said about Hito - they felt distant now, as though they did not quite belong to her. Were they true? Or were they simply the words she had been trained to say, the ones that satisfied others more than they satisfied herself?

Syaoran puffed out softly.

"Kinomoto-san…" He paused, as if carefully choosing his words. "There were times at the inn… when you seemed to enjoy my company more than… than what might have been expected."

Sakura's heart jolted, a sharp pang of panic rising in her chest. His words were not accusatory, but the implication was there. Had she done something wrong? Had her actions betrayed something deeper? His gaze remained fixed ahead, maintaining the polite distance that had always been there - whether out of respect, or to shield her from discomfort, she could not say. Her voice faltered as she rushed to explain herself.

"I... I didn't mean to...!" she stammered, fearing that she was in trouble. "I just... you were always alone and I... I-!"

How could she explain what she herself was not fully certain of? How could she tell him that, despite the arranged marriage, despite the duty she owed her family and society, there were moments when something inside her that awakened at the mere thought of him?

Syaoran's voice broke the silence again, this time even softer than before.

"I'm not upset about it," he said. "I only wanted you to know that I noticed. However, I understand if it's something you don't want to acknowledge."

Sakura's mind struggled to process what he was saying, and then, perhaps more importantly, what he was not saying.

"There's nothing to acknowledge," she replied quickly, her voice trembling. "I-I'm promised to Takeda-sama. I look forward to fulfilling my duty to him... to my family."

Syaoran took a deep, slow breath.

"I understand the importance of duty," he said. "I've always believed in it - honour, loyalty. Those things are part of who I am..."

He trailed off, his eyes distant as they followed the darkened street ahead. For a moment, it seemed like he was grappling with his own thoughts, his mind caught in a place he was not yet ready to reveal. When he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper, but it carried an honesty that made Sakura's heart skip a beat.

"Recently," he continued. "I've come to realize that it would be nice... to share something with someone. Something that doesn't revolve around duty. To experience things with someone who understands, who feels -" He sighed. "Who acts not because they must, but because they want to. Because they cared... long before duty was ever demanded."

Sakura's heart fluttered, uncertainty swirling within her. She was not sure if he was speaking generally or if his words carried a deeper meaning. But then Syaoran added, "I'm beginning to believe that even in a life of duty, there could be space for... worrying others. And... dim sum."

Sakura stopped walking. Dim sum? The memory of making dim sum for him at the inn flashed in her mind, followed by his words, "Worry me if you need to." That offer, said so casually before, now seemed like a confession. The unexpected tenderness in his voice left her both thrilled and terrified, as if the boundaries they had carefully maintained were starting to blur.

Syaoran's steps halted. He turned and looked at her.

"I... don't know what to say," Sakura murmured.

"I don't expect you to say anything if you don't want to," he replied, a sincerity in his words that made Sakura's heart flutter again. "I only wanted you to know that you've crossed my mind. Just in case you ever wondered."

"You... think about me?" she asked, barely able to believe it.

"More than I should."

The simple, unexpected honesty of his words left Sakura breathless. Time seemed to still. His gaze never left hers, and in that moment, all the barriers that prohibited such conversations between men and women seemed to crumble, leaving only the rawness of his admission, and her own overwhelming feelings she was not sure how to face. The sight of her house in the distance brought her back to sensibility, like a splash of cold water breaking a spell.

"We should stop here," she said, her voice shaky as she tried to act unaffected, though it was obvious she was anything but calm. "My father might get the wrong idea."

Syaoran's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, but then he placed her bag back into her hands, their hands almost brushing.

"Thank you for walking me home," she added.

Was it her imagination, or did he seem suddenly more... reserved? He bent his head slightly, his brown hair falling forward to obscure part of his face, a gesture that seemed almost shy. He nodded and she found herself speaking again, unable to hold the words back.

"You know... I... I'm not upset either. That you noticed. I do enjoy serving you... at the inn."

It was a dangerous thing to admit, given the circumstances - the engagement, her duties, the boundaries that should not be crossed - but she could not keep it inside. Syaoran looked up at her, his expression softening with what looked like relief.

"And what about... me thinking of you?" he asked.

Heat spread across her cheeks.

"I... I don't mind," she murmured.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. What additional remarks could be made without breaching all propriety? Finally, Syaoran took a small step back and gave a little bow.

"Take care, Kinomoto-san."

Sakura was taken aback by the abrupt farewell, but she nodded. It sounded resolute like she would never see him again. She wanted to ask. Her lips parted to say something in return, but nothing came. She watched him turn and walk away, his figure slowly merging with the shadows of the street.

The evening had taken a turn she had not expected, leaving her both shaken and strangely... comforted. The conversation, the thoughts and feelings they had shared, felt surreal, and she still was not sure what to make of it. As she turned toward her home, a small, quiet smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

That night, as she drifted into sleep, she dreamed of sitting in the inn with Syaoran. They were sharing stuffed dumplings, the steam rising from the plates as they talked in soft murmurs. There were no expectations, no pressures of duty or marriage. Just the simple joy of shared moments, of laughter that flowed easily, and the feeling that, for once, everything was just right. The dream felt like a fleeting glimpse of something beautiful that could have been... but was never meant to be.

Syaoran approached Noritaka Akita's administrative room, his feet, clad in cotton tabi socks, barely making a sound on the polished wood floor. The quietness of his steps mirrored the unease swirling inside him. He had made his decision. He would not kill Takeda Hito. He did not want to claim Sakura through violence. His path was clear now: to approach the matter through the proper channels, to ensure that his intentions were not only honourable but recognized by those whose approval mattered most.

He paused outside the sliding door to Noritaka's chamber, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. Battles had never rattled him, but this was different. There was no turning back now. This was the only course he was prepared to follow, and he would see it through with the same unwavering dedication that had guided him through every challenge in his life.

With a steady hand, he knocked.

"Enter," came Noritaka's voice from within.

Syaoran slid the door open and stepped inside, bowing low in respect before his daimyo. Noritaka was seated at his usual place, a low table cluttered with scrolls, reports, and papers from the day's activities. The faint scent of ink and parchment hung in the air, adding a layer of seriousness to the already tense atmosphere.

In the corners of the room, two of Noritaka's trusted guards stood watch, silent and unmoving. Their presence was a subtle reminder that, though the room was a space for discourse, the daimyo's safety was never far from consideration. Their eyes followed Syaoran's every movement, but there was no sign of hostility - only the ever-present vigilance that came with their duty.

"Syaoran-san," Noritaka greeted without lifting his gaze, his focus remaining on the documents before him. The rustle of paper filled the silence between them. "A request for an audience is unexpected. Usually, I'm the one summoning you back to Kamakura. What brings you here today?"

Syaoran stood tall, his back straight, his posture as sharp as a sword. He had rehearsed his words a thousand times, but now, standing face to face with his daimyo, they felt heavier than he could have anticipated.

"I come to ask for your counsel, Akita-sama," Syaoran began, his voice carrying an undercurrent of seriousness. "There is a matter I must address. One that concerns my future with the Akita clan."

Noritaka looked up and set down his brush. There was a quiet intensity in his stare, a testament to the years of experience he had accumulated in matters of life and duty.

"Leave us," commanded Noritaka.

The guards hesitated for a moment. Their suspicion was apparent, their duty to protect their lord clashing with the understanding that their presence was no longer required. After a long, silent pause, the guards moved toward the door, casting one last suspicious glance at Syaoran before stepping out of the room, their footsteps fading into the hallway.

"Speak, Syaoran-san," Noritaka urged, his tone gentler now, shifting from that of a commanding daimyo to that of a more familial figure, attentive and concerned.

Syaoran drew in a deep breath, the weight of his next words pressing down on him. He knew this was a turning point, one that would alter the very nature of his relationship with the man before him. There would be no going back after this.

"I wish to marry," Syaoran said. "Her name is Kinomoto Sakura."

A/N

Hey Tomodachi!

Happy Valentine's Day everyone. Thank you for the reviews arisu freedomstrikes and Frostbound reverie.

mvha: I appreciate the reviews of all silent readers because as an author, I want to know if people like things and it's a bit boring posting without feedback after days of writing something. Thanks for the review!

meridalass: Thank you for your review! As I said, I have a few ideas for a sequel but sometimes as a writer you need a something new to write about. Also, those FFY characters wore me out! Especially when the readers decided it could not be a tragedy, so I had to pivot lol.

messier031: I figured somebody would complain so I pointed it out. In Chapter 1 Noritaka says Syaoran's age and then in Chapter 3, Sakura reflects on her age. In all my period pieces, ages will fit to what would be typical for that era/dynasty. Thanks for reviewing!

patmacy 27: You already know he is going to do any and everything. lol Thanks for the review.

Hope sg: Thanks for the review. Syaoran is indeed struggling! He would rather not kill someone he deems innocent but things are personal now. Well I think you know now how things may progress after you've read this chapter if he gets his way.

carmennj: Her magic is not going to show up soon, but she has all her power and strength from the manga/anime. Thank you for reviewing!

Guest: Thanks for the review. Hito's mother is ridiculous indeed lol. You're so right. He's seeing what he has been missing and now craves it. Let's see how he progresses in his pursuit!

Until Next Time,

Ja ne! ^_^