Chapter 67: The Sacrifice

 

 

****

 

 

Is it a sin to wish for something that is unattainable? My eyes, my arms, my legs, my heart, there is nothing I would not have given for my one wish.

 

But that was not enough, was it? For your wish to come true, you have to pay something of equivalent value. 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Part I: Moon Rises…

 

 

 

One autumn day towards the end of the Edo Feudal Era…

 

 

 

The trees of Kumatori Mountain of Edo Japan were dappled a brilliant crimson, amber and golden as an unusually hot and long summer finally gave way to the brisk chill of autumn. Vermillion-colored maple leaves showered down the wooden engawa porch of the Shinto shrine located towards the summit of the mountains. Two women sat on the porch, sipping fragrant green tea, breathing in the musty, smoky smell of the woods around them. One was a miko, clad in the red and white garbs of a Shinto priestess, and the other was a woman, almost childlike in frame, with long violet-black hair pulled into a tight bun. Her kimono was a deep plum color, a lighter shade of her hair, accented with a deep ochre sash, the color of her eyes. She had a small, delicate-boned face, though it lacked much color.

 

“You look pale. Is your health all right, Risa?” asked the auburn-haired miko, Mizuki Mayura of the Great Five.

 

“I am much better now,” replied Chang Risa with a small smile. She put her hands on her stomach, over her orange and canary dyed silk obi.

 

Mayura’s gray eyes flickered over to Risa’s hands. “Don’t tell me…” Her eyes widened. “You can’t be?”

 

“It’s been three months,” said Risa, her cheeks flushed.

 

“Congratulations…but…” A dark shadow came over Mayura’s eyes. “But your body…”

 

“I’ll be fine. I want this. I’ve always wanted this child.”

 

“Did you tell him yet?”

 

Risa hesitated. “No… He’s been busy sealing the escaped mountain youkai. I don’t want him to worry for me.”

 

“But he should know,” said Mayura slowly. “You have to tell him.”

 

“Just a little longer. Until I am sure I am stable.” She stroked her stomach. “I’ve always wanted a child, Mayura. I never thought it could happen. But this baby, I will protect no matter what.”

 

“Risa, you must be careful.” Mayura reached over and held Risa’s thin hands in hers. She had never seen the younger girl who had always been so meek and timid speak with so much determination before; perhaps it was motherly instinct. “I’ll be here for you, so don’t overburden yourself.”

 

“Thank you, Mayura.” Risa smiled wistfully. “You know, I never regretted losing my sight, not once, but now, I have the slightest regret I will not be able to see my baby’s first smile nor the color of her eyes.”

 

“You’ve been so brave all this time; I wish is a way to turn back time and give you back your sight,” said Mayura softly, wondering if she would have been able to do the same as Risa for the sake of love.

 

Chang Risa shook her head adamantly. “I never regret the choice I made. In return, I received so many gifts. Hayashi-sama, whom I never even dared to dream about, is by my side, and I am with his child now. In many ways, I am very blessed.” Risa’s cheeks were a rosy pink as she gazed at her closest friend. “You’ve been like a sister to me, always giving me strength and courage. Thank you so much, Mayura.” 

 

 

 

The trees had grown bare and the colorful autumn had stripped down to a barren cold winter in the mountains almost overnight. Chang Risa sat up from her futon, shivering. It was cold. Her long wavy hair hung damp around her white face. She covered her shoulders with an earth-tone haori and sat up. Carefully, she placed her hands over her obi sash, which had begun to pinch her stomach. Would he be happy? She wondered if she would bear a son who would grow up to become a mighty swordsman to make his father proud or maybe a lovely little girl with his bright eyes. Yes it would definitely be a daughter. A throb came from her stomach again. “Even if I won’t be able to see your face, I will know exactly what you look like. So grow healthy and strong, my dear baby.” She heard footsteps outside―was he back already? She stumbled outside towards the outhouse, her breath coming out in heaves. Risa wiped the sweat on her brows with her sleeve―she wanted to see his face light up when she had told him about the baby. He would be happy, wouldn’t he? Her hands reached out feeling in front of her and she stumbled before balancing herself again. For a second, she paused. “Is anyone there?” she asked out loud to the presence of a girl with green eyes very like Amamiya Hayashi’s. 

 

Kinomoto Sakura did not reply. Though Risa could not see her, her marble-like golden eyes lingered where she stood for a moment. Then she continued on walking as she heard whispers behind the walls. With a sense of dread, Sakura too looked on. Was there someone else? A golden-browned haired man with a dark green haori over his kimono stood next to a figure in a crimson silk robe on a red wooden bridge over a stream. The sky was a hazy white. Flakes of snow began to fall. Risa concealed herself behind the stone wall, recognizing the voices instantly. A nauseous sensation rippled through Sakura’s insides―she didn’t want to watch anymore. But her feet were transfixed to the spot, just like Risa’s were. She couldn’t move away, nor close her eyes nor block her ears.  

 

“I heard about your marriage.” It was a woman’s voice.

 

“Yes,” was the man’s curt reply.

 

“I thought you would at least let your old friend know. And invite me to the wedding.”

 

“You were in Hong Kong. It was a quick and quiet ceremony with just the family and friends.”

 

“And I guess I was not friend enough to be invited.” Her voice was low and bitter.

 

“Don’t, Shulin. I thought you would understand the circumstance.”

 

For a second Li Shulin looked like she wanted to hit the man in the green haori over an earth-tone kimono, her fingers curled into a fist. “How could you, Hayashi? You know how I feel―how could you betray me like this?” she demanded, her amber eyes glistening.

 

“You’re engaged to Landon.”

 

“I don’t care for Landon, you know that. I never did. I love you, and always have.”

 

Amamiya Hayashi’s forest green eyes were sorrowful. “It’s too late now, Shulin.”

 

“No it’s not. Let’s run away together. I’ll leave everything―I’ll abandon the Clan.”

 

“You’re the Chosen One.”

 

“I don’t care. So long as I’m with you, I don’t care about my family or Landon or title or power.” Shulin buried her head in Hayashi’s chest. Her long jet-black hair fanned out behind her. “Tell me you love me. That you want to be with me and only me.”

 

“Shulin, stop.” He sounded weary. “I’m married now.”

 

Shulin gazed up at Hayashi. “I heard about what happened. She tried to protect you from a dark force and gave up her sight for your sake. You married her out of pity. Pity does not equal love, Hayashi.”

 

“I will never do anything to hurt Risa.”

 

“Do you love her?” demanded Shulin.

 

“I care for her deeply.”

 

“Hayashi, look me in the eyes. Do you really love her more than me?”

 

Amamiya Hayashi did not answer.

 

With pale slender hands, Shulin reached up to stroke Hayashi’s lean cheek. His face was more chiseled than it had been when she had first met him a decade and half ago, when they had been mere children, but his eyes were the same forest green that seemed to hold the wisdom of the world behind it. He was the first man that she had loved and the only one. From age thirteen, she had never stopped loving him. But now, he was married to another woman. To someone she had never even considered as a rival for this man’s affection. Quiet, shy, mouse-like Risa who used to trail around her twin brother like his shadow. Shulin was more beautiful, more talented and had known Hayashi longer. But then, why was Chang Risa his wife and not her? Her voice wavered. “I should never have left Japan in the first place. I should never have agreed to Landon’s proposal. I thought it would anger you. I thought you would come for me. I waited and waited. But you never came.”

 

For the first time, there was emotion in his voice. “I didn’t know you wanted me to come for you. You said you didn’t ever want to see me again.”

 

“Because you hurt me. Because I hated not knowing your true feelings.” Tears dripped down Shulin’s cheeks. It was humiliating, for she was a grown woman now, the Chosen One of the prosperous Li Clan, not some naïve thirteen year old girl falling love for the first time. “Because I loved you more than you loved me, and I was too proud to allow that. I wanted you to want me. I wanted you to come to me for a change.”

 

Strong fingers brushed the tears from her cheeks. “You never cried when you were a kid. An annoying, outspoken girl from Shanghai waving her sword at me and challenging me every waking moment of the day.”

 

“You were so patient with me then,” Shulin said, leaning her head against his warm, slightly scratchy palm. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”

 

“Oh, I wasn’t any better,” said Hayashi with almost a trace of mirth as he recollected yonder days gone by. “Poor Mayura was always cleaning up after us, scolding us.”

 

“Remember the first time Ruichi saw Mayura lose her temper? He was terrified of her afterwards because he had been under the impression that she was some calm, dignified miko-sama before.” Shulin sighed. “But those days are gone now. You’re married and I’m marrying someone I don’t even love.”

 

“You do care for Landon. And he loves you very much. He is a good man,” said Hayashi gently.

 

“No, Hayashi.” Shulin stared straight into his eyes. “So long as I love you, there will never be room for any other man in my heart. I love you, Amamiya Hayashi, and I’m not afraid to say it.” She leaned forward to block his words. When their lips parted, she murmured, “I know you love me too.”

 

“Shulin…”

 

Covering her mouth to stifle any sound, Risa turned around and stumbled back towards the house. She had heard enough. For the first time, she was thankful that she could not see―she could not bear the thought of Li Shulin locked in Hayashi’s embrace. A rippling tear surged through her stomach.  

 

Hayashi and Shulin broke apart and turned around at the sound, aghast.

 

Shulin’s eyes widened. “Risa―“

 

“Go back now, Shulin. I’ll handle things,” said Hayashi, hurrying after Risa.

 

Li Shulin watched Hayashi disappear after Risa. White snow drifted down with ironic serenity, mingling with the burning tears streaming down her face.

 

When I awake, will this nightmare end?

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Kaijou, you’re going to be late for school!” Kinomoto Touya pounded on his little sister’s bedroom door. Very graciously, he stated, “I’ll drive you and the Brat to school on my way to work.”

 

There was not answer. Touya glared at Li Syaoran, currently a guest at his house, as if it was his fault. “What’s wrong with her?”

 

Li Syaoran, hands shoveled in his sky-blue uniform jacket, loathing the fact that he had to be the news bearer, mumbled, “Chang Eron broke up with her, it seems.” Yesterday, he had found Sakura in King Penguin Park, in tears because things had ended with Eron. Maybe he was too optimistic in thinking that Sakura would have been cheered up by today. And he felt an ugly resentment whelming within his stomach.

 

“You mean she’s hung up over some guy?” Touya scowled with renewed viciousness. “Why are we Kinomoto’s so unlucky when it comes to relationships?” He pounded on the door again. “Kaijou, you come out this second or else I’m going to come in and drag you out of bed.”

 

“I’m not going to school!” retorted Sakura, voice muffled by her pillow.

 

“That’s it. Where is this Chang Eron?” Touya growled, rolling up his sleeves.

 

“Stop it, ‘nii-chan. Just go away and leave me alone!” Sakura exclaimed from under her blankets.

 

Touya’s jaw dropped. His precious little sister had just called him a nuisance. Again he glared at Syaoran then smacked him on the head.

 

“Ow! What did you do that for?” demanded Syaoran, clasping the back of his skull. “Don’t you have the wrong guy here?”

 

“I don’t know. I just felt like hitting you for some reason,” said Touya. “Ugh, just looking at you makes my stomach curdle.”

 

“It’s not my fault!” exclaimed Syaoran.

 

“Yeah, sure.” Touya whacked Syaoran on the head one more time. “If Sakura is not out of her room, smiling and brightly calling out ‘onii-chan’ by the time I come home again, you’re getting more than a whack on the head. Understand?”

 

With a deep-set scowl, Syaoran mumbled, “And I thought Kai had a sister complex.”

 

“Remember who stole my motorcycle and then got it busted up by all those yakuza?” growled Touya.

 

Syaoran gulped hard.

 

The demon king glowered over the younger boy. “Don’t forget the conditions I set forth when you came to live here.”

 

“I won’t,” Syaoran said gruffly. Of course he wouldn’t. Nothing had surprised him more than when Kinomoto Touya out of all people had opened the doors to his home a month ago. As far as he was concerned, Kinomoto Touya detested him and had so since their first meeting some six years ago. It’s not like he had forgotten their altercation a year ago, when Sakura’s brother had made it clear to him that he wanted Syaoran nowhere near his younger sister.

 

“Well then, act accordingly.”

 

“I will. You don’t have to remind me.” Syaoran watched Touya grumble to himself as he stomped downstairs. Why the change in attitude, he sometimes wondered. In the beginning, Syaoran had been suspicious that the whole offer had been a farce, a joke on him. But Kinomoto Touya had been surprisingly decent to him this past month considering their many years of animosity. To the point where Syaoran almost wished he had tried harder to get on his good side from the beginning. Oddly enough, he trusted Touya, if only because he knew Touya was Sakura’s brother, and he knew this temporary truce would be maintained so long as he kept his end of the bargain.

 

Hesitantly, he knocked on Sakura’s door again. “Hey. It’s me.”

 

“Please. I want to be alone today,” said Sakura after a prolonged pause.

 

“All right then. I’ll make a set of notes at school for you.” Syaoran turned away from the door and headed down the stairs with heavy steps.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Seijou High Class 1-2 fell into sudden silence as Li Syaoran stormed up to Chang Eron’s desk and dragged him up to his feet by the nape of his shirt. “How dare you make Sakura cry?” he demanded.

 

Eron peered up through his long violet bangs, as if he had been expecting this outburst from Syaoran. “People go out and break up all the time,” he remarked. “She’s weaker than I thought if she’s crying over something so trivial.”

 

“What did you say?” Syaoran’s right hand curled into a trembling fist. “You promised. You promised you would make her happy.”

 

“So I did,” said Eron, averting his eyes. “So I did.”

 

“You bastard, then why did you do that?” hissed Syaoran, amber eyes sparking.

 

“Well, aren’t you a simpleton entrusting me out of all people with such a task.” Eron smirked. “I had fun with her. But she bored me after a while. She’s so innocent and naïve, it’s a chore to date someone as dense as her.”

 

Syaoran didn’t hold back any longer and punched Eron in the face, his left hand clutching the nape of Eron’s tie. His shoulders trembled and his voice was low. “Repeat what you just said.” 

 

Eron wiped the blood off his lip with his thumb and smirked. “Aren’t you delusional? You’re the single person who has made her shed more tears than anyone else combined ever has.”

 

As Syaoran’s grip on his collar loosened, Eron returned the blow. Startled, Syaoran stumbled back colliding with the chairs behind him. Chiharu dodged out of her seat, and Meilin winced. Thankfully, the teacher had not entered the classroom yet. 

 

“That is for all the tears you made her cry when you left her.” And Eron lunged forward, dragging Syaoran down with him on to the floor, as he punched Syaoran in the stomach. “And this is just because I hate your guts.”

 

“Stop it you two!” Chang Erika exclaimed, finally making it through the crowd and prying her brother off Syaoran. Why was it these two were always at each other’s neck whenever she glanced away for a second? “You two just don’t seem to understand moderation. Class is going to start soon, and if Mizuki-sensei comes, you’re going to get in trouble.”

 

“Let go of me!” Eron said, struggling against his sister. “Our fight isn’t over. There’s no reason to hold back any longer. I’m finally going to teach this Li bastard a lesson. I am Chang Eron. Nobody looks down on me.” As he lunged forward, Erika yanked him by his ponytail.

 

“Ouch!” howled Eron.

 

Meanwhile, Li Meilin pushed through the crowd and pinned Syaoran down in a deathly hold, jerking his arms back and slamming his head on the floor so that he could not much alone squirm let alone leap at Eron again. “Get a grip, Li Syaoran. After all the ruckus you caused last time, you should know better. Shame on you. What would your mother say?”

 

“Don’t butt in, Meilin. This is the day I finally teach that Chang Eron a lesson,” sputtered Syaoran, kicking out his legs in futility. “I won’t hold back this time.”

 

“Where is Sakura-chan in this kind of situation?” Sasaki Rika paced up and down, panicking.

 

“I haven’t seen her today,” replied Mihara Chiharu, glancing around the classroom.

 

“Eh? Sakura-chan didn’t come to school today?” exclaimed Yanagisawa Naoko. “I wonder if she’s sick. Did you hear anything, Tomoyo-chan?”

 

Daidouji Tomoyo shook her head.

 

“That’s strange,” remarked Chiharu. Tomoyo always knew about Sakura. “Eron-kun, did you hear from Sakura-chan?”

 

A grumpy Eron, now subdued, replied, “No.”

 

“But she’s your girlfriend,” said Naoko.

 

“Not anymore,” replied Eron shortly.

 

There was a dead silence in the classroom.

 

“Oh my gosh, do you think Sakura-chan was dumped?” Chiharu whispered rather loudly to Naoko.

 

“No way―they were getting along so well,” Naoko replied, face crumbling as she realized how much money she would lose in the class bet if Eron and Sakura broke up. “Why, I saw the two of them at the movie theater just yesterday.”

 

The girls glanced back and forth between Syaoran and Eron, and suddenly the situation made more sense to them.

 

“I wonder what happened,” remarked Akagi Aki.

 

“Poor Eron-kun,” said Rika, unexpectedly.

 

Hiiragizawa Eriol knew that Tomoyo was rarely surprised by anything and watched her hand Syaoran a handkerchief to wipe his bleeding lip. While Syaoran had always been a short-tempered boy, it so rarely translated to physical violence. Neither of them had seen Syaoran lose his composure so frequently and uncontrollably as of late. Which was undeniably entertaining. “Is it true?” she asked the glowering boy, a bit taller and worse for wear, but otherwise very much the same hot-tempered Li Syaoran of elementary school.

 

“Yeah,” said Syaoran shortly. “She wouldn’t leave her room.”

 

“When did it happen?”

 

“Yesterday.”

 
“I wonder why Sakura didn’t call me. I would have come rushing over,” Tomoyo said though she knew pretty well who had been by Sakura’s side last night. She gazed at Syaoran, deep in thought.

 

“What?”

 

Her languid smoky violet eyes were expressionless. “What are you going to do?”

 

“Nothing. I’m going to do nothing. It’s Sakura and Chang Eron’s problem,” was his expected reply.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

When Kinomoto Touya was furious, his tanned skin grew flushed against his white coat and his blue eyes turned dangerously black. Even now, he was sitting cross-legged in the doctors’ lounge, tapping the end of his pen on the sole of his shoe. The other resident interns, save his best friend, carefully avoided him.

 

“Did something happen?” asked Tsukishiro Yukito.

 

“That other pretty-boy brat dumped my little sister and broke her heart. I’m debating whether I’m going to dangle him by his ponytail off of Tokyo Tower during a blizzard or roll him up in honey and dump him in a bears’ cave right when they wake up from hibernation,” stated Touya shredding his morning schedule into shreds. 

 

“Because he broke Sakura-chan’s heart or because that leaves Sakura-chan single again?” asked Yukito shrewdly.

 

Touya floundered then stated, “Both.”

 

“How did Syaoran react?”

 

“Does it matter?” Touya glared at his best friend. “We’re talking about my sister here. She refuses to leave her room. He’ll pay for making my little sister cry.”

 

“I once made her cry too,” Yukito said offhandedly.

 

“T-that was different!” Touya exclaimed. “She was just a kid. It’s natural to mistake admiration for love and sometimes you need someone to point that out.”

 

“It’s for the better though, isn’t it? It’s not like you particularly liked Eron-kun either. Or is it to you, anyone is better than Li Syaoran, even Chang Eron?” Yukito paused.

 

“I don’t know. Sakura’s sixteen now; I can’t dictate who she sees. It’s not like I can lock her up in a tower or something. She’s going to have to deal with these kind of things whether I like it or not.” Touya ruminated for a second. “Maybe I should lock her up in a tower.’

 

“Are you sure she’s crying over what you think she’s crying about?”

 

“What do you mean?” Touya glowered.

 

Yukito gave Touya a scrutinizing gaze through his glasses, what Touya would call his “Yue” look.

 

“What?” demanded Touya edgily.

 

“You should just tell Sakura about the deal you had with Li Syaoran.”

 

Touya’s face froze into a rigid mask. “Why do I have to? The Brat can tell her himself if he wants to.”

 

“Li Syaoran has too much honor to break his word with you,” murmured Yukito, carefully absorbed in his patient files.

 

Touya let out a rude snort. “Honor? The Brat?” But it was true. He mumbled under his breath, “Truth is, I didn’t consider that the Brat would be so damned honorable and keep his word for this long. It just makes everything more complicated.”

 

“And you have too much pride to go back on your words, To-ya,” sighed Yukito, shaking his head disapprovingly.  

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Li Syaoran endured an awkward dinner alone with Kinomoto Fujitaka that evening. Luckily, Touya was on night-shift at the hospital, so he didn’t have a chance to check in at home. Sakura had adamantly refused to come down for dinner.

 

“Umm… I…” Syaoran swallowed hard, staring down at the tofu squares bobbing up and down in miso broth. “Sakura… I mean Kinomoto-san…”

 

And through his glasses, Kinomoto Fujitaka’s eyes glimmered kindly at the boy who seemed so concerned over Sakura’s welfare. It seemed not too long ago when Touya, a moody teenager, had thrown a tantrum and refused to come out of his room for a week when his girlfriend (and teacher) at that time left him to study abroad in England. “Do you mind taking up the dinner tray for Sakura-san? Let her know she can eat it when she’s hungry.”

 

Syaoran nodded, taking the dishes to the sink. Fujitaka ladled steaming rice into a bowl and placed it on the tray, with a bowl of miso soup and a plate of grilled mackerel and pickled vegetables on the side. Apparently as a father of two, this was not the first time he was dealing with his kids’ break ups. “Aren’t you worried?” he ventured to ask, glancing up as Sakura’s father began washing the dishes though it was technically his daughter’s shift.

 

“Time heals, and you would be surprised how resilient a young heart can be,” said Fujitaka with a far off voice as he glanced over to the picture of Nadeshiko on the kitchen table. It was at times like this a daughter needed a mother most, not three insensitive lumbering men in the house. 

 

Timidly balancing the tray on one hand, Syaoran knocked on Sakura’s door. “Hey. Your father prepared dinner. I’ll leave it outside your door if you’re hungry later…” There was no answer. He added, “I copied my notes for today’s lessons for you, and the homework assignments as well. I’ll leave it under the tray if you want to take a look.”

 

Finally, there was a short, muffled, “Thanks,” from inside.

 

Syaoran’s leaned his back against her door and sank down onto the floor. Sometimes, there was an ocean separating them. Sometimes, they were just an arm’s reach away. But then, a door would separate them. An inch of plywood that blocked her heart away from him. Sakura, why is it the closer I get to you, the further I become from you?

 

 

 

*******

 

 

 

It may have been a miracle that had reunited the Tanaka family but perhaps the true miracle was sheer human perseverance and patience. The past month had been surreal for Tanaka Miho, who had not only regained her mother, but her father, brother and childhood again overnight. They lived in the newly renovated white Victorian mansion on a hill, an exact replica of their old house that had burned down years ago. Miho had a beautiful room done up in pink and cream and in her closet flowery dresses of every pastel tone color under the sun. Which she hated; she had outgrown frilly skirts at the age of ten. Unfortunately, there was no such a thing as an oasis at home, especially not in a family of four, each more strong-willed than the next, as Miho soon realized.

 

Tanaka Miara coughed loudly as she entered the room. “Ugh, Keisuke-san, were you smoking in the parlor again?”

 

“No.” Her husband gulped, quickly crushing his cigarette into the ashtray and hiding it behind his back.

 

“And can you not pick up after your tubes of oil paint?” Miara continued, arms akimbo. “I just stepped on a violet tube and it squirted out all over the living room rug. You know how oil paint stains.”

 

“But I was in the middle of preparing for my exhibit next month,” replied Tanaka Keisuke. “The deadline is approaching and my assistant is growing quite anxious, you know.”

 

“I understand, but can’t you just take your paints and do it in your lovely studio in the attic that our dear Mikai-kun has built especially for you? I can’t concentrate on my novel having to pick up your mess everywhere.”

 

“I don’t see why you can’t just concentrate on your novel in the lovely den that our dear Mikai-kun has set up especially for you. You’re just fussing because you have a writer’s block, aren’t you?”

 

“All right, I have a writer’s block!” snapped Miara. “But actually, I was trying to spend some time with our family, since we’ve been separated for the past seven years, even if I also have a deadline coming up too.”

 

Keisuke shrugged nonchalantly, remarkably like Kai for a second. “It’s not like I don’t want to spend time with the family, but as an internationally renowned artist, I do have an obligation to my sponsors and fans.”

 

“Oh, now, are you rubbing it in my face that I haven’t yet published my first novel and don’t know if it would be any good?” demanded Miara. 

 

And Miho, unable to bear it any longer, sank into a corner, hands covering ears, blocking out the sound of her parents harping at each other. “Okaa-san, otou-san, stop it!” she finally burst out. “I can’t concentrate on my homework at all. Do you two realize that if I don’t study for this math exam, I’m going to fail the class?”

 

There was a prolonged silence as her parents stared at her. “What do you mean, daughter?” demanded Keisuke. 

 

“She must take after you. Math was never really your strength,” remarked Miara snidely.

 

“Excuse me? You’re the one who didn’t take a single math course since graduating high school.”

 

“Well, then, why don’t you help our daughter out with her math problems then, Keisuke-senpai?” demanded Miara.

 

Keisuke gulped hard. Numbers had never been his forte. 

 

“Ugh, Eriol would tutor me at least,” said Miho, placing her pencil between her lips and nose. She had been so distractedly lately with the holidays and writing articles and the Alliance of the Stars, she had let her grades slip. Perhaps she had been taking Eriol and Suppi-chan for granted all this time. There had been an abundance of resources at Eriol’s house. Even Nakuru, once you got her sitting down for a moment, was a math whiz―she had an excellent memory and could recite all sorts of formulas and compute difficult equations in her head with calculator-like accuracy. Or Kaho-san had taught math for years and could explain equations beautifully.

 

“Well, who does Mikai-kun take after then?” asked Keisuke.

 

“I was a journalism major and got distracted in university,” replied Miara smugly. “But I was valedictorian in high school, you know.”

 

“Pshaw, school grades measure nothing,” Keisuke snorted. “Creative ingenuity cannot be learned―it’s in the blood. Mikai completely takes after me. Did you see how he good he is at painting? He painted all the backdrop of the Star-Crossed musical production.”

 

“No, Mikai takes after me. His inquisitive mindset, great analytic skills and persuasive rhetoric is all completely me,” retorted Miara.

 

“Yes, and I’m just a foundling,” muttered Miho under her breath.

 

“Miho, do you need some help with your math homework?” asked Kai with an aggravating brotherly smile.

 

“No thank you,” said Miho curtly. “I can do it myself.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.” Miho looked up at her brother, chin jutted out. “You’re the one who told me that I need to learn how to do things on my own and become self-sufficient. Besides, I’m not the one who flunked a grade!” There she said it.

 

Kai’s jaw dropped.

 

“Did you really flunk a grade?” Keisuke asked with a frown.

 

“O-of course not!” Kai hadn’t grown out of being a habitual liar.

 

“Miho-chan, I understand you are jealous of you brother, but it’s bad to make stuff up,” said Miara.

 

Arms crossed, Miho glared at Kai. Her mother’s constant favoritism of her brother had not changed at all. “I hate you,” she hissed at him.

 

Because his son looked so crushed, Keisuke suggested, “Mikai, do you want to come help me with my exhibit? I need someone to nude model.”

 

Scowling, Miara stated, “No, Mikai-kun is going to come help me with editing my new chapter of The Soliloquy of a Criminal Mind. Did you see how fast he types and his flair for stringing together eloquent prose (never mind his verbose, archaic use of language)?”

 

“It’s dinner time soon,” said Kai with a weary sigh. “Should I order Chinese or pizza?”

 

“Ugh, I’m sick of delivery,” grumbled Miho.

 

Miara pouted, “I wish I married someone like Eriol-kun. He was such an excellent cook; we always had such luxurious meals at his house.” With an emphatic note, she added, “A spotlessly clean house.”

 

“Well, why don’t you go and marry him then?” said Keisuke crassly, crunching up his sketch pad.

 

“I want him to marry my Miho-chan,” replied Miara, clasping her hands together.

 

“Ew, no!” exclaimed Miho.

 

“I thought you liked him,” Miara said, surprised.

 

“Never!”

 

“My little Miho-chan likes a boy?” Keisuke demanded, horrified at the thought of his baby girl being at that age already.

 

“Well then, my only hope is Mikai marries a girl who’s a good cook,” Miara said.

 

“Oh, onii-chan’s girlfriend is a fantastic cook,” Miho stated slyly.

 

Miara gaped, “What, my precious son has girlfriend already? Who is this girl? Why haven’t you introduced me to her yet, Mikai? Is she pretty? Is she smart? Does she come from a good family?”

 

In final surrender, Kai slumped his head into his hands and whimpered, “Meilin-chan… Come save me from this nightmare.”

 

 

 

*******

 

 

 

Li Meilin was far from alarmed when she heard a shuffling sound from the balcony of her apartment later that same night. Having a former thief as a boyfriend meant she never knew which window, trap door or closet he would be popping out of next. 

 

“What did you do now?” she asked amusedly as a much rumpled Mizuki Kai tumbled into the room, a far cry from the dashing Kaitou Magician. She had wondered how long he would last as ‘Tanaka Mikai.’ Though he was usually so meticulous about his appearance, he appeared to have a violet streak of paint down his right cheek, ink smudged fingers, chalk dust on his jeans and his shirt clearly hadn’t been ironed. But the silky hair that brushed against her cheeks as he leaned his forehead on Meilin’s shoulder smelled like fresh-cut English roses and cinnamon.

 

He mumbled into her shoulder, “I give up. I can’t do this anymore!”

 

“Do what?”

 

“This Tanaka Mikai act. I’m going to puke or go crazy.” He yanked off his necktie and mussed up his hair. “Why did I used to have such a bad fashion sense? Oxford shirts and woolen vests? Give me a break.” And his family was driving him up the wall as is―had each member been so opinionated and pigheaded? Had he simply been blind to it all because he had been a child?

 

“Then stop acting,” snapped Meilin. She was at the moment far more concerned about Sakura to really feel patient for her truant boyfriend. “Don’t you get it? Your parents just want their son back, that’s all. And even Miho-chan. She’s accepted ‘Mizuki Kai’ long ago. The only one that can’t accept you is yourself.”

 

“What?” Kai blinked at the sudden revelation.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

The next morning, Syaoran left for school alone again. He looked up from the front door at the drawn curtains of Sakura’s room. With a long sigh, he walked out the gates.

 

Sakura quickly shut the crack between the curtains, blocking out all sunlight and turned around again. She knew that last night, Syaoran had waited on the other side of the door again. He didn’t speak, but she knew he was there. If she called out, he would have answered. But she pretended he wasn’t there. Maybe he hadn’t been there. Maybe it had been her imagination. She would never know, because she didn’t open the door. She flopped down on the bed again, covering her eyes with her hand.

 

“You can’t avoid everyone forever,” said Kero-chan.

 

“Why not?” replied Sakura, knowing how childish she sounded.

 

“You need to get out of bed and go out again some time,” Kero-chan continued. The first couple days, he had respected his mistress’ need of privacy. But now, it was getting unbearable seeing Sakura revert back into how she had been last year. “You haven’t changed out of your pajamas in three days. Your brother’s going to come back soon―what will he say?”

 

Sakura knew everything Kero-chan said was right. And it was different from last year. She knew she was hiding away. Hugging a pillow to her chest, Sakura rolled over, back turned to Kero-chan, and shut her eyes. “Go away, Kero-chan. Leave me alone.” Kero-chan sulkily flew out, once more exiled from his teenage mistress’ bedroom.

 

 

 

It was sometime around noon when Sakura heard a knock on the front door. With a groan, she curled into a ball and sank into her blankets. She sighed in relief when the knock subsided. Then, she sat up with a start when there was a knock on her bedroom door.

 

“W-who is it?” she asked. It couldn’t be Syaoran―he was at school, and her father had a lecture.

 

“It’s me,” came that delightful mellow voice that she had always craned to hear.

 

“Y-yukito-san?” squeaked Sakura. What was Yukito-san doing here, at this time?

 

“Can I come in?” he asked.

 

Sakura could not turn him away, like she did everyone else.

 

Because she didn’t respond, Yukito took the answer as a yes, and cracked the door open, peaking in. “Hello, Sakura-chan. It’s been a while.”

 

Swaddled in her blankets, Sakura sat up and tried to bow down her head. “Yukito-san! What are you doing here?”

 

“I have the afternoon off, and I decided to stop by. Sakura-chan, do you want to go out on a date with me?” asked Yukito, leaning his head over.

 

“Date?” squeaked Sakura as she realized what a mess she must look like in her pajamas with hair sticking out like chestnut burrs, and hugged her blanket closer around her. 

 

Yukito nodded. “I’m going to be reviewing some documents downstairs. Take your time to get ready. It’s a sunny, bright day, perfect for a date.”

 

“With you?” Sakura managed a half-smile. Once, those words would have been the greatest happiness of her day and probably would have left her in an ecstatic daze. “Onii-chan isn’t going to like it.”

 

“Who cares about that ogre? Today, we’ll have a fun day together, just the two of us,” said Yukito with a wink.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Kinomoto Sakura stared up at the cloudless sky, shielding her eyes with her hand. Yukito-san had been right; it was a brilliant, sunny day. Had the sky always been so blue and did the birds always chirp so merrily? It felt food to step outside and breathe in the brisk, cold air and feel the tingling sharpness of the winter’s wind. It felt good to take a steaming shower and brush her hair away from her face, and put on nice-smelling, ironed clothes. She especially wore a new canary-yellow coat over a rusty-yellow wool pinafore. Her hair was pulled back by a yellow headband, and she was happy when Yukito-san smiled and told her that she looked cute, almost feeling at heart like a ten-year-old girl experiencing her giddy first crush again.

 

A date with Yukito-san meant a day of eating. First, they went to a popular curry restaurant, where Sakura had a curry donkatsu set, while Yukito indulged himself in ordering a curry donkatsu udon double combination set with a side of pan-fried dumplings. Sakura bit into her crispy pork cutlet soaked in spicy curry and watched Yukito’s eyes sparkle at the feast spread before them. Then, they went to try out the new strawberry butter-cream crêpes down the street, and Yukito chattered happily about little anecdotes of Touya at the hospital.

 

“Oh, and Nina-chan dropped by for check-ups the other day. She’s doing very well now that she’s more active. She’s enjoying pre-school, and she gets along very well with her aunt,” Yukito said, pausing to lick the cream off his lips.

 

Sakura smiled. “That’s good to hear. Aunt Hisano seems like a very kind person. I am glad Nina-chan found a place to call home.” She had glimpsed in the celebrity tabloids that Nina’s mother, actress Ishikawa Nanase, had recently married Director Takashiro and would be starring in a new movie produced by him. 

 

“Hard to believe little Nina-chan is Touya and your aunt though,” remarked Yukito with a chuckle. Grandfather Fujishinto surely led a complicated life.  

 

It was exciting to play truant from school and check out all the cute stores down town. Yukito bought Sakura a new a new teddy-bear keychain which came in a set of pink and green. They munched on a bag of rainbow-colored konpeitou as they watched a street saxophonist belt out a heart rendering jazz tune. The two clapped heartily as the last notes rang through the town circle, and Yukito dropped some coins into the saxophone case. Then, the two made their way to Piffle Café, and even after a full meal and the crêpes, Yukito helped himself to an order of chocolate banana gelato waffles and a cherry caramel fudge triple sundae with whipped cream on top. Sakura sipped on her royal milk tea, feeling a sugar rush from all the sweets she had consumed that day. 

 

There never was anyone who could ever make her feel so giddy “hanyaan” like Yukito-san did, even after all these years. Though eight years had passed since she first met him as a freshman in Seijou High who had been her brother’s fellow classmate, Tsukishiro Yukito seemed to have not aged a bit since then. Despite his many all-nighters as a resident intern, his skin was still milky smooth and his hair a beautiful wispy silver that caught the wind. His eyes behind his round-framed glasses were a kind, understanding marigold. Today, he wore an over-sized beige woolen jacket that had been Touya’s Christmas present, and brown corduroys, but his frame was slight and slender compared to her broad-shouldered, steady-as-a-tree brother. To her, Yukito-san was always like a soothing milk tea.  

 

 

 

The late afternoon sun cast the town in a deep sienna tone as Yukito walked Sakura back home. He had to return to the hospital for evening shift.

 

Yukito paused in front of the doorsteps. “Sakura-chan, do you remember the conversation that we had after your junior high graduation?” It was already almost a year ago. “You told me then that you found your most important person.”

 

Sakura did remember the conversation. It had been when she decided to go to Hong Kong. The Kinomoto Sakura of that day had been fearless. Nothing could have fazed her, not the Li Clan, not the Dark Ones, not Great Five. “I thought I did.” She looked up at him imploringly. “But what if I found my most important person, and that person doesn’t love me back?”

 

“It depends. You can wait. Or you can continue looking,” replied Yukito quietly. “I am guessing Eron-kun did not turn out to be your special person?”

 

“When Eron-kun told me he loved me it made me a little bit happy. But then it made me even more sad. Because I knew no matter how much I tried, I knew I could never return his feelings. At least, not in the way he wanted me to.” Sakura closed her eyes. “That is why, when he broke up with me, I couldn’t help feeling guilty. As if I didn’t give my hundred percent, that I should have tried harder.” 

 

“Human feelings are very complicated. There is no plan, no reason, no rule. There is no universal law to love, except for those who make them.” Yukito stared off into the distance. “When you have found your most important person, don’t just become a passive observer. Fight for that person. Because if you don’t, you will have lingering regrets for the rest of your life. Love is a wish. A wish for your feelings to reach the other person. A wish to be acknowledged. And a wish that festers into oblivion changes from a beautiful dream to an endless self-inflicted curse.”

 

For some reason, Sakura believed that Yue was speaking to her now, not Yukito. “I always thought that love should make you happy. I wonder why then is there such a thin borderline between the happiness and pain you feel from love.”

 

“Because humans are fundamentally selfish creatures, we are not content in just loving, just observing. We want to be loved in return. We want to possess the other’s love. And with greed comes unhappiness.” Yukito trailed off. “Don’t make such a sad face, Sakura-chan. It’ll make everyone else around you very sad.”

 

And Sakura tried to smile.

 

“Now, hold out your hand.” She obediently stretched out a hand, and he placed a lemon drop on her palm. “Well, I’ve got to head back to the hospital and report back to your ogre-brother that I have safely escorted his little sister back to the house.”

 

Clutching the candy, Sakura looked up and blinked at Yukito’s smiling face. The smile was contagious and she could feel her cheeks flushing. This piece of candy in her hand was not any candy. It had always been a token from Yukito-san, a good luck charm, a sign of her feelings to him reaching his heart. Of course, as you grow older, sometimes a piece of candy is not enough evidence to prove your heart. “Yukito-san, do you ever fight with onii-chan?”

 

“Just trifle disagreement in opinions every now and then,” replied Yukito. He didn’t tell her that they had a disagreement regarding her just the day before.

 

“I never knew that you and onii-chan argued as well,” Sakura said. She could imagine it would take a lot to get Yukito-san angry. “Over what?”

 

“Let’s see, the last big one was when I was making him think I’m suspicious of his feelings for Mizuki-sensei.”

 

She frowned. “Onii-chan has gotten over Mizuki-sensei years ago.”

 

“Of course―I know everything about him; we have no secrets. That’s the key to a relationship, you know. Communication.” Yukito chuckled. “But I enjoyed making him uncomfortable thinking that I had suspicions about him. Well, I think he deserved some punishment―he wouldn’t have told me about his first love if I didn’t pry it out of him.”

 

“Onii-chan doesn’t like talking about himself,” said Sakura understandingly. “Wait―but Yukito-san, you know Mizuki-sensei really is a great, wonderful person right?”

 

Yukito nodded. “Of course. Any person Touya chose would have been a wonderful person. Besides, she still loves him.”

 

“Eh?” Sakura choked. “How could she―“

 

Yukito was taken aback by Sakura’s reaction. “I didn’t mean it in that way―she cares for him as a dear old friend who will always look out for him. A human does not ever just stop loving a person. As time passes, the amount you think and feel for a person diminishes, but you can’t simply annihilate the feelings you’ve had for a person as if they never existed in the first place. You can find someone who you love even more, someone who becomes an even greater presence in your life. But you never completely forget one you have loved. Because they are a part of who you are today.”

 

Those who I have loved make me who I am today… Sakura sighed. She had truly cared for Eron, there was no doubt about that. Even now, she hadn’t completely sorted out what her feelings toward him were. And maybe, she’d never figure it out. “I wonder if I’ll ever fall in love again.”

 

Yue chuckled at the melancholy sixteen-year-old girl talking as if her life was all over. Then he said in a gentle tone, “The heart is like the waning moon. There will be a night when the sky is completely dark and the light of the moon nowhere in sight. You might look up into the black sky and wonder if the moon had ever shone there in the first place. But even if you can’t see it, you know it is still there, and that the moon will appear once again, first as a sliver of a crescent, and eventually become full again.”

 

Sakura stared up at the twilight sky. The crescent moon had started to peep out from behind the clouds. “I see…” she said pensively. Same as she still loved Yukito-san in this gentle, familiar way, Touya and Mizuki-sensei, even after all these years had passed, would never forget that blissful year they spent together. But both of them had moved on to their respective paths. And Yue, too, would always have a lingering love for Clow Reed, as her mother would have Li Ryuuren and Ryuuren would have her mother. Everybody carried past love in their hearts, some as warm memories of the past, some as scars never quite healed, but having a failed relationship was never the same as not having had that love in the first place. It was like the lyrics of a song she had once heard. “Omoi,” feelings, change everything. And I, too, have changed because of it.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

When Sakura came downstairs the next morning in her school uniform, hair neatly pulled back by two red bobble ties, nobody commented otherwise, but the three men in the house were immensely relieved.

 

“Good morning, onii-chan,” said Sakura sheepishly. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

 

Touya glanced at his sister over his newspaper―he had already heard the details from Yukito, but he smiled genuinely. “Seems like my kaijou is back.”

 

“Otou-san, thanks for the meals you prepared,” said Sakura with a bow. “I’ll do double duty for the rest of the week.”

 

Her father nodded. “Are you feeling better now, Sakura-san?”

 

Sakura nodded. “Yukito-san took me out yesterday and cheered me up.”

 

Careful not to meet her eyes, Syaoran stared into his coffee cup. So, he had done all he could, but it had not been enough, after all. In the end, it was Yukito-san that Sakura had turned to and Yukito-san who had brought back the smile on Sakura’s face. Nonetheless, he felt gratitude for Yukito.

 

“Thank you for the notes,” said Sakura. She was standing in front of the table, facing Syaoran now.

 

“No problem,” mumbled Syaoran into his cup of coffee.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Sakura’s classmates swarmed around her upon her return to school. “Sakura-chan! Are you okay? We heard from Mizuki-sensei you caught a bad case of the flu!”

 

Looking up at her friends, she smiled apologetically. “I’m all right now.”

 

“I’m glad you’re back,” said Tomoyo, squeezing Sakura on the shoulder sympathetically, indicating she understood.

 

Nodding gratefully at her best friend, Sakura said, “Sorry I didn’t call back.”

 

Tomoyo shook her head. “I understand.”

 

It took all of Sakura’s courage to walk up to her desk and sit down next to Eron.

 

“Good morning, Sakura,” Eron said, very civilly to her. “Good to see you back.”

 

“Good morning, Eron-kun,” Sakura replied stiltedly, staring down at her desk, painfully aware of all the nudges and whispers circling around the classroom.

 

Thanks to Syaoran’s meticulous notes, Sakura found she wasn’t too far behind in schoolwork. However, enduring the sympathetic gaze of the entire school was an ordeal she had not been expecting. How did rumors spread so quickly over three days? It seemed like all the students and even the faculty knew that Eron had broken up with her, and even Li Leiyun did not miss an opportunity to make a snide remark when he passed by her in the hallways. “The Dark One grew tired of you fast enough. Thank goodness; I thought he might pull a Chang Ruichi, but seems like he didn’t care enough about you in the first place.”

 

She had come to terms with the fact that Eron had ended things with her out of the blue; but she did not need a constant reminder from everybody who bumped into her. Really, the most nonchalant person about the affair seemed to be Eron himself. Nonetheless, she avoided contact with him at all costs, because she didn’t think she could quite face him yet.  

 

 

 

The school day seemed to drag on, and Sakura groaned when she realized it was only lunchtime. She grabbed her lunchbox and dashed out the classroom, knowing if she stayed, she was going to be bombarded with embarrassing questions and even worse, words of consolation and pity, pity she did not deserve.

 

“It’s not the end of the world to get dumped,” said Yamazaki Takashi. “There are many women who got dumped who have moved on to fantastic careers―take Queen Elizabeth I’s Golden Age even after Lord Dudley’s betrayal or Jeanne D’Arc and her successful campaign in the Loire Valley against the English after Roger’s transformation―too bad she was burnt on a stake in the end.”

 

Chiharu kicked him on the shin. “How can someone be so insensitive? Sorry Sakura-chan―Takashi-kun is talking nonsense.”

 

“Sakura-chan, where are you going?” asked Naoko, shoving a glossy spread in a fashion magazine towards her friend. “Look at this magazine―aren’t these idols gorgeous? Kazu-sama is so hot! And Himura Takuya is so dreamy. I wonder if he’s really dating Akagi Arima.”

 

“Sakura-chan, we’re going to meet a group of Eitoukou guys after school today. Are you interested?” asked Fuko, a fellow cheerleader.

 

“Sorry, I’ve got to run an errand!” exclaimed Sakura, quickly making an exit from the homeroom hall. She saw out of the corner Nakano Yuri, the girl from the same orphanage as Chang Eron, give her a strange look. Yuri had been pointedly avoiding her the past couple months, which was not that hard since they did not share any classes or activities together, but Sakura had gotten closer to Yuri last year during Star-Crossed rehearsals and had not missed the frosty silence from her whenever they bumped into each other in the hallways.  

 

Sakura turned the corner. To her horror, she saw Li Leiyun come out of the infirmary, looking quite dashing in his pristine white coat. Twice in one day! Just her luck. His smile was enough to melt the knees of the line of high school girls stationed by the infirmary. But to Sakura, it was a mask that conveyed his mind was set to work on his foulest schemes. Sakura quickly swerved around the corridor to avoid crossing paths with him. The third years were streaming out of the library, and she spotted Li Jinyu, walking alone, scowling imperatively. Quickly, she took the stairs downstairs. When did school become such a danger zone? All she wanted to do was spend a lunch break without talking to anybody. The school rooftop was no longer a quiet hideout, and it was a bit too chilly to sit outside. Just then, she spotted Eron walking around the hallway, the one person she wanted to avoid the most. She dodged into an empty classroom.

 

“Have you seen Sakura?” she heard him ask a classmate in the hallway.

 

“No. Isn’t she with Tomoyo-chan?”

 

“No, I’m pretty sure I saw her around here somewhere,” said Eron.

 

Quiet as a mouse, Sakura crept across the classroom and saw that the window was open. Why was he looking for her? Maybe he was angry. Peering outside, she saw the coast was clear, and hopped out. It was cold outside without her coat, but bearable. Her head felt clearer. She crept alongside the building and peeked into another window looking into the first floor hallway. Eron walked back towards the stairwells, perplexed. With a sigh, Sakura crept further along the building side, and plopped down behind a grove of bushes, leaning against the concrete wall, below a windowsill. “What am I doing?” she muttered to herself. She closed her eyes and hugged her knees to her chest. A slightly familiar tune on the violin drifted out through the window above her. She must be sitting in front of the music room. Her brother often used to practice piano there when he was a high schooler. She used to love leaning over the windowsill as an elementary student, listening to him play a tune.

 

What a sad tune, thought Sakura as she listened to the lingering vibrato. He had reworked the “Star-Crossed” Theme into a new variation that was not Li Ryuuren’s signature somber and lonely violin solo, not Amamiya Nadeshiko’s lilting tune of hope. It set her in a queer mood, as if she was waiting and waiting for the variation to lift off and break free from the sequence. But it didn’t.

 

She hadn’t even realized the reason why the tune had broken off. “What are you doing there?” Syaoran leaned over the windowsill, staring onto two pigtails tied with red double-bobbles. “Hiding?”

 

Still crouched up against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest, Sakura tilted her neck back to see Syaoran’s amused face peering down overhead. “I’m not hiding.”

 

There was chatter of voices outside by the front door. She recognized Chiharu’s voice.“Sakura-chan? Wasn’t she in the classroom? I’ll let her know you’re looking for her if I see her around.”

 

Sakura looked around hurriedly for a place to run off to, but she was out in the open. Without further ado, Syaoran reached out the window and grabbed her arms and pulled her in. Sakura collapsed onto her knees in the music room, knocking over Syaoran with her. She quickly sat up again, adjusting her blazer and skirt. “What did you do that for?”

 

“Weren’t you looking for a place to hide?” He sat up, smoothing a hand over his hair.

 

“No,” said Sakura, indignantly, clutching her lunchbox to her chest.

 

“Well, I was about to eat lunch as well,” Syaoran stated, taking out his matching lunchbox packed by the talented Kinomoto Fujitaka-sensei.

 

It seemed to Sakura that ever since Syaoran transferred to Seijou, he ate lunch alone more often than he did not. He had been like that even back in elementary school, until Meilin came along. She had always wondered where he disappeared off to, though she had pretended she did not notice.

 

Syaoran bit into the egg roll. “I thought it would be too suspicious if we always came to school with the same contents in our lunchbox.”

 

Sakura glanced at Syaoran sharply. He always did have an uncanny way of reading her mind. She bit into her egg roll as well. It was juicy and delicious. How long had it been since they sat together like this at school and ate lunch together? Not since junior high.

 

“So, who are you hiding from?” asked Syaoran.

 

“No one.”

 

He gave her a look.

 

“Everyone.” Sakura sighed. “You know, for most of my life, I have thought of school sort of as an oasis. It was a place where I can be with my friends and learn from the teachers that I admire. Even in the hectic days as Card Captor and sealing dark forces, for me, school sort of brought normalcy in my life. But now, school feels like a battlefield.”

 

“Really?” Syaoran gave her a grim smile. “I always thought of school as a battlefield. Give me dark forces or martial training―I can handle that. But to deal with classmates, interacting with others, understanding mob mentality, trying not to do anything too unexpected in gym class, blending in, that to me was the bigger challenge.”

 

Sakura blinked. “I didn’t realize school life was that difficult for you.”

 

“You couldn’t tell?” Syaoran leaned back in his chair. “I was stuck in a new country, new school where I wasn’t even familiar with the language. The Clow Card Mistress-in-training was my purported rival, a popular, cheerful girl who was the favorite at school and everyone thought me the evil, bullying outsider. To make matters worse, there was her demon-brother who seemed to be out there to get me and the strange best friend of this girl was trying to film me in my most embarrassing moments, surely to blackmail me, I supposed then. Then, there was a suspicious homeroom teacher, a cousin, though I understand her good intentions, that seemed to be out to make any normal, quiet day at school only wishful thinking, and then a transfer student aka the reincarnation of the most evil sorcerer of the last century, whose hobby apparently was to humiliate me.”

 

Sakura burst out laughing. It was the first time she had let out such carefree laughter in front of Syaoran since he had returned to Japan, and if she did not have jovial tears in her eyes, she would have seen the careful, almost inquisitive look Syaoran gave her. “I never thought about it that way. Goodness, and I thought I had things bad. I always wondered what Tomoyo kept in that locked cabinet she marked ‘Blackmail Material.’ She said it’s confidential.” 

 

Groaning, Syaoran said, “I knew it. I knew there’s a reason why she gets along with the glass-eyed creep.”

 

“Hopefully it won’t be her next feature film,” giggled Sakura.

 

“‘The Li Syaoran Blackmail Diaries’ or the likes of it,” said Syaoran glumly, plucking the string on his violin in a morose D.

 

“You’ve really improved,” remarked Sakura, gathering some scattered sheet music on the desk. “I wish I kept at the violin.”

 

“There was a time when I thought I would never play again,” murmured Syaoran. “There are so many things you take for granted in life, the simplest things like being able to see, smell, hear and use your limbs freely.”

 

“That day… I was in Eitoukou for the cheerleading meet and I heard you practicing.” Sakura paused. Her mind had forgotten ‘Li Syaoran,’ but yet, her ears and feet had led her to him nonetheless.

 

“I didn’t in my wildest dream expect you to be standing there when the music room door swung open,” said Syaoran. “And there you stood, without even the slightest clue who I was.”

 

It was painful to talk about that time. “How did you manage to play? That was before you could use your arm again, wasn’t it?”

 

“I couldn’t make a fist, so I couldn’t properly hold the bow. But I found that if I tied it to my hand, I could sort of anchor it in place. For weeks, it sounded like a dying parrot.” His lips twisted sardonically. “The up side was, it was painful for everybody else to hear as well, so nobody dared come near me.”

 

“It must have been hard,” Sakura murmured. She wondered if she was in that situation, whether she would have the strength to tie a bow to her hand and force her arm like that. Like that time when she had lost her vision. How had Chang Risa and Mizuki Miara been so brave and continue on daily life like that? That brief day when she had lost light had been so frightening, so daunting. Losing any one of her senses was a terrifying thought. 

 

“Those days, I thought I was going crazy. I practiced nonstop because it was the only thing that kept my mind off other things,” said Syaoran.

 

Sakura jerked back, surprised by the darkness in Syaoran’s tone. Every so often, he let on those strange glimpses into how he had spent the past year, and in some ways, she did not want to know because it did not align with how she had imagined he had spent it. Because that bitter resentment that flickered into his eyes was something she was not familiar with, something that frightened her, as if there was a Syaoran she did not know beneath that mask of Syaoran she had always known. She did not know if she should blame it on the loss of his magic or Li Leiyun or even more alarming, if it had always been within him and she just had never seen it before.

 

“It’s not like you to run away,” he remarked offhandedly.

 

“What?”

 

“You can’t avoid him forever,” he continued. “Not as long as you go to the same school, same class and are allied with him and fight against the same enemies.”

 

She turned to Syaoran and resentfully asked, “What do you know?” There was nobody who told her as many unpleasant things as Syaoran did, and nobody who was quite as frank and blunt to her about things she did not want to hear. 

 

“Did you care for him that much?” Syaoran asked, with a pained look in his eyes. Did you really love him so much, to have him affect you like this?  

 

The question made Sakura flinch. It was a question she deemed not worth answering, and she excused herself. Lunch break was over.

 

 

  

******

 

 

 

Syaoran was so lost in his own thought that he did not even notice that Erika was copying off his math homework. Last period was study hall in the library and she had joined him in his private little corner, knowing that he couldn’t turn her away without attracting unwanted attention. She scribbled a heart on his textbook and remarked out loud, “You must be having a field day now that my brother and Sakura are over.”

 

“Are you?” was his brusque response. He was the only one who actually made use of study hall and sped through his textbooks, finishing up the problem sets in record speed, as if he wanted to get over with them as soon as possible. He glared at the heart doodle on his book.

 

“You know, Sakura must have cared for him a lot more than I thought she did.” She toyed with the end of her hair as she glanced over at Sakura pretending to read a book while the rest of her classmates glanced her way, speculating upon the reason for the breakup. “Not bad, taking a week to get over him. It took me only a day to get over Mike. Of course, it took her a good half year to get over you. But surprisingly enough, she did. I thought she would go on moping until the end of time, but I guess Eron was good for her. And she’s turned him into a half-decent person over the past year.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“What? Eron-kun? I mean, look at him. He’s a standoffish esoteric Europhile, but now, he gets along with people, volunteers at the orphanage and even talks about preparing for college and stuff.” Erika snorted. “He’s an embarrassment to the Chang name.”

“No, before that.”

 

Erika knew exactly what he had meant, and blinked her long violet lashes. “Oh, you mean about her taking a half year to recover from you?” She laughed what she believed to be a tinkling laughter but was rather closer to a cackle. “You think what you saw the past week was sad? It’s nothing compared to how she was when she came back from Hong Kong after you turned her away. That was pretty cruel, wasn’t it? Rejecting her like that.”

 

“How do you even know about that?”

 

Erika examined her French-manicured nails. “Granted it must have been tough on her, almost dying, losing that bratty boy―what was his name again? That’s right Subaru. And her purportedly most trusted person left without a word. Illness, death, abandonment―that was probably the ultimate low point in her life. At the beginning of high school, she was a miserable mess. She didn’t smile or laugh for months on end. Eron was driven mad with worry. I could almost like that Sakura, the dejected Sakura.” She looked up and observed her brother, sitting across from Sakura, watching her over the edge of his textbook. He was tapping his finger on the pages, something he would normally never do. “It would have been the perfect opportunity to take her down. But the dark forces were still. And Eron broke the taboo. He asked her out. He wasn’t going to, but he had to risk it. Because you returned. If he waited longer, he might never get the chance again. It’s all about timing, you know. For the first time, there was a gap in Sakura’s heart. I didn’t like the two of them together anymore than you did. But no matter what you think, Eron treated her well. He’s that sort of person. And they sort of fit together, oddly enough. Sometimes, I couldn’t help thinking that the two of them might break the curse for good.”

 

For some reason, there was a wistful quality in Erika’s words. “How was Eron able to break free from the Dark Ones?” Syaoran asked.

 

“The Plague scared him properly. He rebelled,” replied Erika, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear to reveal a blood-red stud. “He awakened his own powers as Chang Eron. That’s why he didn’t need Ruichi-sama’s powers anymore. It’s always been like that with the Chang descendents. Twins are born with special powers, and of the two, there is always the dominant twin and the latent one. He’s the dominant one―his powers have always been stronger than mine.”

 

“Why did you turn against him and join hands with Leiyun?” Syaoran said. “Could you not break free as well?”

 

Erika fingered the odd crystal shaped like an eye hanging from a chain around her neck. “I need power more than I need freedom. You see, I’ll never do something so stupid as falling in love with anyone. You shouldn’t have either, if you wanted to protect everything that is important to you. It’s stupid to sacrifice yourself for the sake of love.”

 

 

 

“It was stupid to miss all those days of school just to avoid seeing me,” remarked Eron, not looking up from his book.

 

“It wasn’t because of you.” Sakura mumbled.

 

“I’m sorry, maybe I flattered myself. It’s just that you were making the world’s ugliest face sitting there. Your eyes are puffy and your face is bloated. Don’t tell me you’ve been crying over being dumped by me,” he continued snidely, carefully writing out the rough draft of his lit essay. He was unfortunately sitting across from her and there was nowhere to hide except behind her textbook. “If you have been, that’s disappointing.”

 

Sakura looked up from her notes and glared at him.

 

“Good. Go around with that kind of face. If you go around so dejected, people are going to misunderstand and think you’re actually heartbroken on something. They’ll make into me the bad guy. I don’t deserve that, do I?” Eron said. “After all, I did you a favor.”

 

Slamming her book shut, Sakura stood up.

 

“Don’t tell me you actually were heartbroken?” Eron remarked in mock surprise.

 

That was it. Sakura, disregarding everyone’s curious looks, stomped out of the library. To think this had all been such a joke to Eron. She had been worried how to face him, and he thought it was funny. 

 

“Wait, Sakura!” called out Eron. “I said wait.”

 

And Sakura halted, back to him. They were alone in the stairwell.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I was worried because you didn’t come to school, but I had already lost the right to call you,” Eron said. “It’s good to see you back.”

 

Sakura didn’t turn back; she was afraid she would cry if she did. 

 

“I just wanted you to stop avoiding me,” said Eron.

 

“I-I’m not avoiding you stammered,” stammered Sakura.

 

“I told you I’m going to see you at school and greet you, that I won’t revert back to being the Dark One, that things will be just the same as before.”

 

“How can everything just go back to being the same as before?” asked Sakura, finally facing him. She couldn’t help thinking Eron didn’t look that great either―his eyes were bloodshot. “I hurt you.”

 

“You did,” Eron said bitterly. “But that was then, and it’s over now.”

 

“Why did you break up with me?” asked Sakura, eyes glistening.

 

He paused. “In the beginning, I told myself that I could be content with having you by my side. But as time passed by, I got greedier and greedier. I could no longer be content with you just being by my side. I wanted more. I wanted your heart. But you can never give me that, can you?”

 

Sakura verdant eyes, strangely vulnerable yet sincere, met his. “You are an important person to me, Eron-kun.”

 

“But I am not your most important person.”

 

“Neither am I yours.”

 

“No.” His eyes were mocking. “You come in only third, next to Erika and me. But all my life, I never thought I could care for another person besides Erika and myself.”

 

Sakura smiled ruefully. “I feel privileged.”

 

“You have this strange notion that if you love someone, you should wish that person to be happy. But I didn’t want you to be happy with any other person except me. I wanted your smile to be only for me and your heart to belong to me and only me. I didn’t want to share you with anyone else. If I couldn’t have you, I wanted nobody else to.”

 

At this, Sakura stared at him, dumbfounded.

 

“That’s the true me. I am not nice and caring―that’s all a façade. Aren’t I despicable? How could you date someone as wretched and selfish as me?” Eron broke off, his ragged breath revealing he too had been struggling.

 

“I always liked your truthful self, Eron-kun.”

 

His long dark lashes shaded his topaz-hued eyes. “I am not truthful. I lie when it’s convenient for me. I’ll deceive you if it is to my benefit. That’s the kind of person I am, Sakura. I can’t help it. It’s in my blood. What I’m trying to say is, don’t blame yourself. It’s nothing you did wrong. I myself set an arbitrary time limit. If I couldn’t make you fall in love with me in two months, I probably never can.”

 

She asked quietly, “Why couldn’t you give me more time?”

 

“I said before my love for you is finite. Our time is finite. Humans are finite. Hence, I am only human, so my patience is finite. That was the extent of my love for you. Maybe it wasn’t enough.”

 

It was hard listening to Eron speak to her so calmly, as if he was explaining a math formula to her. Sakura didn’t follow his words at all―it had always been like this. Choose option A or option B; she always grappled to understand what Eron was thinking of, what double-entendre meaning his words held, as if he were a ticking bomb that would explode if she chose the wrong answer. 

 

“We tried being enemies, but truthfully, I don’t want that anymore. We tried being a couple, but that wasn’t too much of a success either, because frankly, it’s tiring for me to be on my best behavior all the time with you. Hence, you have two options. Option A, you can choose to continue ignoring me. Or…” Eron finally held out a hand to Sakura’s surprise. “Option B, how about one more shot for me, this time as friends. I’m not going to try to intimidate you or impress you anymore. I’ll just be, and you can decide what you want from me, as your ally.”

 

Sakura looked up timidly. He was offering her another chance. Another chance to reach to him. She liked how he looked at her with direct hazel-gold eyes that were clear and bright, as if he was speaking straight from his heart. She grasped his hand and shook it. 

 

 

 

“What are those two doing, filming some romance movie?” Meilin muttered under her breath at the pretty picture Sakura and Eron made together.

 

“Skipped entire study hall without a trace,” grumbled Syaoran under his breath.

 

Tomoyo had to stifle a giggle as she saw the murderous look in Syaoran’s eyes. “I wonder if Sakura-chan made up with Eron-kun,” she remarked, amazed at how Sakura was smiling up at Eron as if he was her best friend in the world when just earlier that day, she had been running away from him. “Poor Syaoran-kun never will get a chance.”

 

“Well, poor Syaoran better step up his game,” was Meilin’s merciless response as she tossed back her pigtail tied with red ribbons. A petite redhead girl in the black and crimson Junior High uniform ran up to them, panting.

 

“Meilin-nee-chan, have you seen him?” asked Miho, peaking around the bustling hallways after school.

 

“Who?” Meilin blinked.

 

“Onii-chan. Have you seen my brother?” repeated Miho, blushing deeply, almost like the girl who had been so desperately searching for her missing brother for years.

 

“Mizuki-kun’s been out for the past couple days,” replied Eriol, hurt that Miho had been neglecting him ever since her real brother returned. Truth was, he still hadn’t let go of his grudge for being left out of the Vogue reception. “Really, you get Sakura back and then the Thief of the Night goes missing. This class probably has the worst attendance record ever.”

 

Miho bit her lower lip and clasped Meilin’s hands. “You know where he is, don’t you? He hasn’t come home in days―he hasn’t left, has he?”

 

With a kindly pat on the younger girl’s shoulder, Meilin said, “Don’t worry about Kai. He’s a grown boy―he just needs some alone time.”

 

“H-he hates me, doesn’t he?” Miho sniffled. “I said some horrid things to him.”

 

“No, he doesn’t hate you, and he’s already used to verbal abuse,” replied Meilin with a knowing smile. It looked like the younger girl hadn’t completely grown out of her brother complex yet.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

With a broom propped against her shoulder, Meilin marched into Kai’s apartment.

 

Perro-chan greeted her pertly, “Intruder! Intruder!”

 

“Don’t be silly, it’s just me,” she told the parrot. She heard a shuffling in the bathroom, and she flung open the door, only to be greeted by a steamy fog. Kai stood in a black bathrobe, wiping his hair with a fluffy towel.

 

“Gah, what are you doing here?” demanded Meilin.

 

“It’s my house,” Kai replied, glancing at the misty mirror to see Meilin’s reflection. “You wanted to catch a glimpse of me showering so badly? You could have just asked.”

 

“Miho-chan came looking for you at school today,” Meilin stated, blatantly ignoring his last remark. “Why have you been skipping classes again―I thought you flunked because of poor attendance.”

 

“Miho-chan came looking for me?” Kai asked, turning around blinking his gray-blue eyes.

 

His bathrobe was tied very low and loose, she suspected on purpose, and Meilin averted her eyes from his taut stomach. “You were here the whole time? You could have let me know that.” Kai, as rambunctious as he usually chose to be, could be as quiet as a mouse to the point where she wouldn’t even know if he was in the room next to her.

 

“You’d make me go back home,” said Kai sullenly.

 

Meilin let out an exaggerated sigh. “Honestly, I do understand why you might need some alone time. You’ve had absolute freedom for the past six years, it must be a bit stressful living with a family, obliging curfews and all. Trust me, I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did. But you should know Miho would worry if you disappear from her sight like that.”

 

And Kai grabbed the broom away from her and squeezed her in a tight hug. “I knew you’d understand.”

 

Meilin squirmed, uncomfortably aware of his moist skin and pushed him away firmly. In the process, the towel over his head completely slipped off. She let out a little shriek. “Mizuki Kai, what have you done with your hair?”

 

“What?” Kai ran his fingers through his hair.

 

“It’s blue.”

 

“Royal blue,” he corrected, holding up his tube of hair-dye. “I was going for a brighter color, but it came out looking rather dull, didn’t it?” His hair was a lovely shade of pale blue which suited his gray-blue eyes. Meilin saw that defensive, reckless glint come over those glass-like eyes as he stated defensively, “It’s stressful being Tanaka Mikai. I need a little vacation, and I’ll go back home and attend classes again.”

 

“I’m not your guardian,” said Meilin coolly. “There’s no need to explain yourself to me. Do that to Miho or your parents.”   

 

It was no fun rebelling when he was given permission to do so, and so his restlessness was replaced by his usual poise. “So I guess there was no need for me to hide from you if you’re not going to send me back home. Well, then let’s go have fun then.” 

 

“No thank you. Unlike you, I have homework to do,” said Meilin.

 

Kai sighed. “In spite of what you might think, I haven’t been just playing around all week long. I’ve been working on something.”

 

“What? Your videogame or your biceps?” she remarked dryly, kicking the dumbbells lying around on one corner of the room.

 

Examining his hair in the mirror, he tilted his chin in various angles, clearly satisfied with the result. Meilin knew he was pausing for dramatic effect and wasn’t going to tell her until she badgered him. Well, two could play at a game. She watched him meticulously comb up his hair, working wax into it and spiking up the blue strands. It brought out the blue in his eyes and he looked strangely ethereal, especially as his bathrobe became progressively looser and looser, most certainly deliberately.

 

“Aren’t you getting dressed?” she demanded, not willing to admit that his half-nakedness was distracting her.

 

Kai gave her a mischievous grin. “Do you want to see my biceps?”

 

“Pervert,” muttered Meilin under her breath, as she trudged after Kai, who sauntered around his room, spraying himself generously with rose-scented cologne, fixing up his bangs and finally, pausing in front of a metallic door.

 

“What’s this room?” She had never noticed the silver screen in the far corner of his room before. He slid the door open and she followed after him

 

“And welcome to Kaitou Magician’s secret chamber,” said Kai, snapping his fingers and light immediately flickered on.

 

She gasped as she peeked through the door into a walk-in-closet extravagant and spacious enough to make any girl envious, and her jaw dropped. One end of the room was neatly lined with black cloaks of every shape and length. On the shelves against the center wall were dozens of top hats and the glass stand in the center of the room was lined with a sunglasses of every shape, color and brand. The stand next to it was laden with a brilliance of jewelry that Meilin didn’t even want to ask about, though she glimpsed a couple of Kai’s favorite accessories such as the silver skull ring, the fang earrings, his array of punk chains and of course his favorite metal-studded leather gloves.

 

“Really, Kai?” Meilin raised a brow. “Do you really need thirty black cloaks?”

 

Taking hold of a length of fabric, Kai declared, “But this one is for summer, and this one over here is for winter. This one’s waterproof and this one’s satin, for media appearances. And this one sparkles in the dark and this one becomes inflatable in water while this one’s inflammable.”

 

Meilin rolled her eyes. “What was the whole show of throwing your black cloak in the ocean and saying Kaitou Magician is no more last Christmas?”

 

Kai blinked. “That was a symbolic gesture. You didn’t expect me to throw out all my Kaitou Magician apparel, did you? Do you know just how much one of those cloaks cost? I get them specially tailored in Paris. Though those couple over there are Tomoyo-chan’s designs―you can tell by the embroidery. I’m rather fond of them, so they’re only for special occasions.”

 

And Meilin sank to her knees with a groan. “I was tricked. I thought my boyfriend reformed but in actuality, he’s exactly the same as before.”

 

“Silly girl. You thought you can reform a thief,” said Kai, walking over to her and lifting up her chin with the tip of his fingers.

 

“I hate liars.”

 

“You’re the one who said to be truthful to myself,” Kai stated. “This is who I am. You said you loved me just as I am.” 

 

“Who said I loved you?”

 

“You don’t?”

 

“I don’t what?”

 

“You don’t love me?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“I love you.”

 

Meilin blinked her heavy black lashes. “So?”

 

Instantaneously Kai’s jaw dropped and instantly he switched from the suave phantom Thief of the Night to a petulant, sulking teenage boy and proceeded to lock himself in the closet. Meilin sat on a chair, atop Kai’s unfolded laundry, and fed Perro-chan crackers. Perhaps she had been too harsh. Two weeks ago, Kai had told her that he loved her when they were at the beachside. At that time, she had been very happy, but then, she hadn’t given him a proper answer. What was she supposed to do, tell him that she loved him too? Did she? She didn’t like how Kai was able to throw around words so easily. Was his love the same kind of love as her love? Or was it just a momentary passion that would fade with time.

 

To her relief, he had not donned his cloak and top hat when he emerged from the closet a good twenty minutes later. Instead, he was dressed in a faded pair of black denim jeans with a black shirt under a fitted motorcycle jacket with brass buckles and zippers, and a white and black checkered kerchief was tied loosely around his neck. He had discarded his polo shirt and woolen vest and tie in a deep corner of his closet marked “to burn.” His favorite fang earrings dangled from his ears and he swung his Harley-Davidson key-ring around one finger. “I’m going for a ride. Are you coming or are you not?”

 

“Go ahead,” Meilin said.

 

Again, Kai looked a bit crestfallen. “I haven’t been goofing off you know. I’m doing some important work.” To his disappointment, Meilin did not show the slightest sign of interest and proceeded to feed Perro-chan more biscuits. With a childish pout, he drew on his black designer shades and hopped out the window.

 

“You think he’s off stealing something again?” Meilin asked the blue parakeet.

 

“Je t’aime,” squawked Perro-chan, preening his feathers. “Je t’aime.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Lying down on her bed, Sakura raised the sapphire, which fit her ring finger perfectly, up to the light. Was love a finite entity? Eron believed it to be so. But then she recalled a distant voice. “With stars, you barely notice them at first, but when you watch them, they’re so many of them, all twinkling so merrily. It makes you think, ah, they’re growing and growing. The more you look, the more stars you find. And before you realize it, when at first you barely noticed it, you realize the entire sky is covered with stars.” Something in her heart jerked, and she stared back at the ring. The beauty of the star sapphire was that on the surface, it looked like a smooth blue gem until it was held up to the right light source and when she tilted the blue gem, a twelve-pointed star formed.

 

If she concentrated hard, she could make the stone glow and emit a pale blue light. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead as she concentrated. It was something she had watched Syaoran do numerous times, and yet she had not realized it had taken so much effort. The stone crackled and an orb of sparks of electricity formed over her hand. A little bit more.

 

“What are you doing?” Kero-chan asked, flying into the room, sucking on a lollipop.

 

Sakura’s concentration broke and the orb of lightening shot up to the ceiling, leaving a scorch mark.

 

Kero-chan dodged, dropping his candy, and screeched, “That’s dangerous! Don’t do it indoors.” He peered at the black mark on the wallpaper. “What was that?”

 

“Kero-chan, why did my powers change to the power of the moon?” Sakura asked suddenly, sitting up from her bed.

 

Choking on the candy, Kero-chan stammered, “W-why are you asking that all of a sudden?”

 

“Just. I thought it was strange when I couldn’t release my star staff. Eriol-kun told me that I had overused my power of the stars, that is why my body needed time to recuperate. So I thought it natural to draw upon a different pool of power. But I thought eventually, the power of the stars would return to me. But I don’t feel it anymore. Then, what is the source of the power of the moon come from? Has it replaced the power of the stars?” Sakura slipped the Reed sapphire ring off her finger again. The eye of the dragon will wake.

 

Kero-chan was a horrible liar, but luckily, Sakura was distracted. She jumped off her bed and pulled out the green storage box underneath it. She rummaged through the box and swung open the Swan Lake music box. It was not in the music box, where it should be. Frantically, she toppled over the rest of the contents of the box onto her bed. It wasn’t there. Maybe it slipped out when the box had been toppled over that night when Eron came over. Crawling on the floor, Sakura poked her head underneath her bed. Then she lifted up her rug. Perhaps it was caught behind her bookshelf.

 

“What are you doing now?” Kero-chan asked, acknowledging that his mistress had finally lost it.

 

Two winters ago, she had spotted a stone in a jewelry store in passing, a luminous crystal that seemed to sparkle like the North Star. The price had been so expensive that she had quickly left the shop in shock that a piece of stone can cost so much. To her utter surprise, it was that very necklace that had popped out of a green balloon on Christmas Day, Syaoran’s Christmas present to her. She had been surprised that Syaoran had even noticed that necklace. But Syaoran had always been observant like that. Of course, it wasn’t until quite later that she learned the necklace was indeed Amamiya Hayashi of the Great Five’s token artifact. Till this day, she didn’t know if she had found the stone or the stone had found her. Or more accurately, Syaoran had brought the necklace, the one Five Force Treasure whose whereabouts had been unknown for the past century. When the crystal split into two, it felt like an omen, an ominous omen of what was to come. It was a precious gift to her. Not because of its price or because it was a Five Force Treasure, but because it had been Syaoran’s gift to her. Now where could it possibly be? 

 

He had snidely said to her, “You still have that? It doesn’t have any magical powers left in it and it’s broken. Just throw it away.” His words had infuriated her more than he would know. The fact that he didn’t realize what an important talisman the necklace had been to her all this while, that he could so casually suggest she discard it. Plopping down on the floor, she groaned. In her anger, she had flung the necklace at Syaoran. That’s where it was.  

 

“Cleaning?” asked Kero-chan, floating above her head, peering into the chaos inside the box. “Or are you looking for something?”

 

“Cleaning,” replied Sakura, gathering the photos together. Because she had so hastily stuffed them back in the last time, they were all out of chronological order, a big jumble of timelines and events all piled into one box. She stared at a solo shot of Syaoran from the fashion show in a dark green battle outfit trimmed with gold. Sixteen-year-old Syaoran-in-the-photo was more handsome than she recalled in her mind. But he had no trace of a smile on his lips, and his eyes held none of the warmth that she recalled. From the pile, she drew out another picture of Syaoran from two winters ago. His cheeks were ruddy from the cold, and his chestnut brown hair was windblown. He was laughing widely as droplets of snow melted on his lashes and shoulders, and she could almost hear his voice, not yet fully matured, call out her name, “Sakura.” Finally, she put next to this photo a picture from six years ago; a grouchy ten-year old Li Syaoran stared up at her with his big scowl, wearing an oversized sports jacket and a green scarf. He was probably grumbling about how he hated the cold, and yet, even that seemed endearing. She slid this photo on top of the one of grown-up Syaoran. Dear Syaoran-of-the past, the boy she had once believed to be her most important person. “Where have you gone?” she murmured to herself.

 

She recalled how Yukito had told her the other day, “The heart is like the waning moon. There will be a night when the sky is completely dark and the light of the moon nowhere in sight. You might look up into the black sky and wonder if the moon had ever shone there in the first place. But even if you can’t see it, you know it is still there, and that the moon will appear once again, first as a sliver of a crescent, and eventually become full again.” You can shut it up in a box or close your eyes and block it from sight. You can’t hear it if you listen nor can you feel it if you touch it. But it’s still there.

 

The Golden-eyed Cerberus watched his Mistress in bemusement as she carefully picked up Syaoran-bear and wiped the lint gathered on its black fur, then hugged it to her chest. “I see. You’re not gone. Just because I shut you away, you didn’t disappear. How silly of me.” Standing up, she help up her green box and overturned it completely, letting all the photos shower down, and she went to her bookshelf, pulling out all her albums. There was no point in storing away photos where they could not be seen.

 

“What are you doing now?” Kero-chan screeched, fluttering away as an avalanche of photos poured over his head, onto the floor.

 

“Hmm?” Sakura was too intent in going through her photos, that she paid no heed to Kero-chan. Instead, she flipped through the pages of her album, filling them with the photos she had taken out months ago. Finally, she came to the last batch of photos. They were from the fashion show. She hadn’t taken many photos this year, and she flipped to the back of her most current album. Then, she inserted the pictures into the brand new pages.

 

 

 

Kero-chan shook his head in disapproval as his mistress, sprawled across the floor, chuckled quietly, frowned, laughed out loud then smiled yearningly as she carefully slipped the photos into the empty pages in her albums. He was convinced Sakura had finally gone mad. It had taken all evening to sort through her photo albums, and when Sakura finally realized the time, she poked her head out her bedroom door. Syaoran was not back yet though it was past ten. He must have stopped by earlier, because he had changed out of his uniform. These days, he always came home late at night. Where was he and what was he doing at this hour? When he was home these days, she tried his best to avoid him, which was not hard since by the time he came home, she was usually in her bedroom, ready to go to bed. Either way, this was her chance. Stealthy as a certain Thief of the Night, she tiptoed next doors to her brother’s room, currently occupied by Li Syaoran, careful not to arouse Kero-chan’s suspicion. For a second, she felt a little guilty rummaging through his stuff. Well, it’s my house, she reasoned.

 

She never entered her brother’s room without permission, for fear of Touya’s rage; from a very early age she had learned that her brother valued privacy. Even when she cleaned his room, she was very careful not to upset any of his stuff, and usually, Touya did the cleaning himself anyway. It must be difficult for Syaoran to reside in such a meticulous person’s room. By the looks of it, Syaoran seemed to simply sleep in the room and do not much else in it; there was no presence of him except for the carefully-made cot on the floor next to the bed. 

 

Cautiously, she reached under his pillow. Nothing. She laughed at herself. What had she been expecting to find? She couldn’t help wondering if he still kept the picture from New York. She then moved on to his book bag. Now, she felt even guiltier. Unfortunately, inside Syaoran’s bag was as neat as the rest of the room. There were only textbooks, his notes for each class, and a pen and a wooden pencil. Very different from her bag, which was full of snacks, sticker pictures with her friends, a bulging pencil case with very cute pens and animal-shaped mechanical pencils, a cosmetics bag with a mirror, small brush and lip-gloss and bits of garbage accumulated throughout the day. Next, she checked his uniform blazer pocket, then trousers. How could it not be anywhere? Had he really thrown it away? She was on the verge of patting down all the clothes he had worn for the past week (and since he never wore anything twice in a week, that was quite a lot of clothes) and failed to hear the rustle by the doorway.  

 

“Are you looking for this?” asked Syaoran, leaning against the doorframe, holding up two halves of a broken crystal encircled between his thumb and forefinger.

 

Her heart dropped to her stomach and Sakura bolted up, aghast at having been caught rummaging through his stuff. “N-no!” she stammered, turning beet-red, pretending to smooth out the bed. “I’m just looking for something onii-chan asked me to find for him.”

 

“Oh, I see.” Syaoran tossed the crystal into the air and in the blink of an eye, it disappeared into one of his pockets with a sleight of hand that would have made Kaitou Magician envious.

 

“W-why do you have that still?” Sakura demanded. “I thought you were going to throw it away.”

 

“Silly, you can’t just discard of magical artifacts in the trash can―it’s hazardous waste; even in its broken state, it can be used for evil in the wrong hands,” replied Syaoran, matter-of-fact as always.

 

“Then give it back to me.”

 

“Why?” Syaoran blinked. “You threw it away.”

 

“No I didn’t.”

 

“Yes you did. Do you want me to refresh your memory?”

 

Sakura glared at Syaoran as she realized he was making fun of her. She held out her hand, palm up. “Give it back.”

 

“No,” replied Syaoran, dodging as Sakura lunged for his right jean pocket.

 

“I said, give it back!” cried out Sakura as Syaoran childishly grabbed the crystal and held it way above his head, beyond her reach. Had he always been this tall? Arms outstretched, she jumped up and tried to grab it. “Give it back!”

 

“Why should I? What do you want of it, anyway?” He swerved around into the room as Sakura lunged forward at him. She stumbled out into the hallway, and he closed the bedroom door behind him with a laugh.  

 

Fuming, Sakura returned to her room and stared at the completed sets of albums on her bookshelf. And she finally let out a small smile. How foolish it was of her to think that putting away all these photos would erase him from her life. One thing she had learned with certainty while inside Memoria was that never would she be able to completely forget him. I can’t lock you away. I can’t pretend you don’t exist. I can’t forget you. Hence, I’m just going to have to accept you have always been an important part of my life. And even the daunting future cannot take away my precious memories of you. 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Kai-kun, I want to hire you,” said Sakura solemnly at school the next day. Unexpectedly, the former thief had shown up at school with hair that matched his uniform blazer color. “I need you to steal something for me.”

 

“Sorry, dear, I’m retired,” replied Mizuki Kai with a yawn. Then he lifted an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of him. “What is it? I might make an exception if it’s an interesting project.”

 

“My diamond necklace.”

 

“That’s yours in the first place,” Kai pointed out.

 

Sakura nodded. “I need you to steal it back from the person who took it from me.”

 

Kai leaned over and looked Sakura straight in the eyes, over the bridge of his black sunglasses. “Have you tried asking this person to return it to you?”

 

“I did! He wouldn’t give it back!” retorted Sakura, indignant that the former thief suggested she should ask rather than resort to thievery.

 

“Maybe you didn’t ask nicely enough,” said Kai, patting Sakura on the head fondly. “How about a good old-fashioned, ‘I’m sorry, it’s important to me, so please return it to me.’”

 

Sakura’s jaw dropped. “Goodness, you’ve changed Kai-kun.” Perhaps it was the effect of being a family-guy again.

 

“Haven’t changed,” replied Kai. “It’s in the Gentleman Thief Handbook, Rule #14. Steal only what you cannot have by asking.”

 

A teasing smile brushed her lips. “By any chance, is the author the same as the Dating Manual for the Hopeless Guy?”

 

“It is!” Kai responded, delightedly. “You know the book? It’ll be a bestseller yet, don’t you think?”

 

“Yeah,” replied Sakura dryly.

 

“There’s a companion book, Dating Manual for the Hopeless Girl.” Kai clasped his hands over his mouth, recalling that Eron and Sakura had broken up recently. “Oops. No offense intended.”

 

Sakura scowled at her tactless criminal friend. “You’re meaner than onii-chan!”

 

“Thank you. I take lessons from the master,” drawled Kai. The ex-thief seemed to have drawn up an odd sort of adulation for the ogre-king last time he had dinner at the Kinomoto’s, whom he had dubbed as “the supreme sister-complex onii-chan prototype!”

 

“Kai-kun, do you know what the Eye of the Dragon is?” asked Sakura suddenly.

 

“Isn’t that the name of the stone of your diamond pendant?” replied Kai. “In the days of the Great Five, Amamiya Hayashi-sama was the bearer of the Eye of the Dragon, a mysterious chunk of uncut crystal that was rumored to have been actually taken from a dragon by the first Japanese swordsman. It was passed on for generations to the so-called best swordsman. Why?”

 

“Just. It’s been mentioned here and there so many times, I was wondering what its significance is,” Sakura remarked.

 

“If the Eye of the Dragon is such an important artifact, you should not have let it out of your hands, as the Li Clan should be after it,” remarked Kai offhandedly. “Make sure you take good care of that ring at least.” 

 

Sakura fingered the sapphire ring on the chain around her neck. “Kai-kun, you sent me this ring when you were in Hong Kong,” she said slowly. “Don’t you want it back? I don’t think it belongs to me.”

 

Kai replied, “It doesn’t belong to me either. According to my father, aka the artist Shing, from whom I originally stole the ring from, it belonged to Li Ryuuren. At one point, he gave it to a certain Amamiya Nadeshiko as a Christmas present, which she returned to him upon their parting. Afterwards, Li Ryuuren gave it to my father for safekeeping, claiming it reminded him to much of her, but since Li Ryuuren-san is dead, I guess it rightfully belongs to his heir. Though technically speaking, the ring is a Reed heirloom which Lord Landon Reed presented to Li Shulin as an engagement ring.” He paused, staring at the bewitching blue gem that reflected a six-pointed star. “Oddly enough, that certain ring probably has had the most carriers of the Great Five and their descendents.”

 

“Why did you send it to me?”

 

“For safekeeping.”

 

“From whom?”

 

“What do you mean from whom?” asked Kai, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Do you remember, you wrote me in the letter that you sent with the ring Syaoran was planning something with the Great Elder to regain the title of the Chosen One. You told me that he chose the Clan, so I best forget about him,” said Sakura.

 

“Did I write something like that?” Kai said vaguely.

 

“The thing he was planning with the Great Elder―does that have something to do with why Li Leiyun-san is in Japan now?” asked Sakura.

 

“I’m not quite sure,” replied Kai, not meeting her eyes. He was too principled to point straight out that Syaoran might have deliberately taken the crystal, and it was obvious to Sakura she was not going to get a straightforward answer from him.

 

“Well then, the Li Clan taking the Sakura Cards from me, you knew that they were planning that, right?” Sakura paused. “But that isn’t it. There’s more, isn’t there?”

 

“Do you seriously think one of Syaoran’s ambitions will be content with just being the Chosen One, the puppet of the Li Clan?” Kai laughed out loud, more out of nervousness than real amusement. “I honestly don’t know what you want to learn from me. If you want to find out more about the inner-goings of the Clan, you probably know best who to ask.”

 

“I can’t ask him. That’s why I’m asking you,” said Sakura.

 

“What is there to ask? You know even better. He’s meant to do great deeds, not to be limited to some tiny town in Japan,” Kai stated.

 

“I agree.”

 

Kai stared at her with his pale gray-blue eyes. “He did betray you big time, you know, and took the Sakura Cards from you. Rumors say that the Great Elder’s successor will be him. He’s only sixteen, and the Great Elder wants to make him the next Head of the Clan.”

 

“He’ll make a good Head,” stated Sakura, struggling to keep her voice level despite the turmoil she felt in her heart. Syaoran as the Great Elder, the Head of the mighty Li Clan? She couldn’t imagine it. The great Li Estate back in Hong Kong with its golden-gilded halls and all those rows of solemn men in black robes embroidered with the Li emblem intimidated her.

 

“You’ll never see him again if he becomes the Great Elder,” said Kai. “The Clan will completely consume him. This really might be your last chance to see him, go to school with him, have any sort of contact with him.”

 

“So be it, then,” said Sakura.

 

“But if he doesn’t, what will you do?”

 

“He will carry out his duty. We both know that.” Sakura cast down her pale brown lashes. “Why think of hypothetical situations that can never be. This is reality.”

 

At this, Kai smiled wistfully. “Yet the prodigal son came back home. There is as much of a chance for him to return to your side as there was for me to return to Miho and okaa-san.”

 

“Kai-kun, you’re contradictory as usual, aren’t you?” Sakura gazed up at the older boy’s clear gray-blue eyes. And for the first time, she understood him. He could only be defined in contradictions, therefore he was. It seemed as if Mizuki Kai had not yet made his mind up to reassure her or make her feel worse, whether to condemn Syaoran or defend him. Talking with Kai always left her feeling a little more cynical but at the same time, logical.

 

“You’re the one that is contradictory. Do you trust him or do you not? Do you love him or do you not? Are you going to believe in him or are you not?” His eyes flashed a stormy gray, no longer jesting. “Why do you think I sent the sapphire ring to you with a letter mentioning Syaoran?”

 

“I don’t know. I don’t understand your cryptic language,” retorted Sakura.

 

Kai slammed his fist down in frustration. “Syaoran asked me to send the ring to you, why else? I don’t know why he did, and that is the truth, so you can ask him.” Then he stomped off muttering to himself about ingrates who had not read his precious dating manual.

 

Utterly befuddled, Sakura turned to Meilin. “How do you date somebody who speaks in constant riddles?”

 

“Oh, Mizuki Kai.” Meilin rolled his eyes. “He’s pretty simple to figure out once you get to know him. When he’s being serious, he just speaks completely opposite to what he actually means to say.”

 

Tomoyo giggled. “I think the real dilemma is, how do you recognize someone whose hair color changes every other day?”

 

“I don’t,” said Meilin with a serene smile. “I just look for the oaf wearing sunglasses indoors.”

 

    

 

*******

 

 

 

Back home, Sakura fished through her memory box, empty except the treasure box and a couple letters, including Kai’s letter from Hong Kong. Even from the hospital, his calligraphy was beautifully laid out on clean parchment paper. His flourishing script was dripping with sarcasm and yet, she had been touched when she received it because she knew even though he was recovering from a major surgery, he had been concerned about her welfare. She scanned to the second paragraph.

 

Enough about me―I know you don’t really care about what I’m up to. What you probably want to hear about is news of Him. Well, here it is. I had a chance to see him, just once. He seems to be doing fine. In fact, I don’t even think he’s particularly being restrained or punished by the Clan at all. We can scrap the locked in the dungeon theory as well as the chained to the walls one. He’s still the high and mighty Li-sama as usual. If you can’t tell, I’m quite disgusted with him at the moment. When he finally came to see me the other day, it was not to ask about you but to ask me what I’ve done with the sapphire ring. Since I’m staying at the Li Hospital, I have some inside sources. And rumors are, he’s planning something hand-in-hand with the Great Elder so that he can regain his title of Chosen One. In the end, he has chosen the Clan over you.

 

To understand Kai’s words, interpret it as the opposite of what he says, Meilin had told her. But if she followed her theory, then this letter meant the complete opposite of what Kai had written didn’t it? But what did that mean? That Syaoran had not been fine, that he had been confined by the Li Clan and punished for disobeying. That when he had gone to see Kai, he asked about her? Sakura shook her head. Impossible. She should take Meilin’s words with a grain of salt.

 

Truthfully, she was still taken aback by Kai’s passing comment about Syaoran becoming the next Head of the Li Clan. That was an understatement. When she had heard it, a paralyzing fear had crept through her heart. But he’s only sixteen. Was that what he had been striving for? Was that why he had returned to Hong Kong in the first place? Then why was he here? To become the master of the Clow to become a more powerful leader of the Clan? Was it a lie that he had a falling out with Leiyun? Whatever his mission in Japan is, once that is accomplished, will this really be the last time I will get to see him?

 

 

 

*******

 

 

 

From a distance, a lurker watched a tall blonde girl wearing a military-style bomber jacket, not unlike the one he was wearing, and curve-hugging skin-tight jeans tucked into black motorcycle buckled thigh-high boots. She walked briskly through the slums, as if she was no stranger to the parts, stepping over a drunken man leaned against a rundown building without any hesitation. His fingers flicked and closed the knife in his pocket out of habit as he eyed the dark alleys suspiciously.  

 

Kara Reed, hands tucked into her pocket, came to a halt and stated out loud so he could hear, “I know you’re following me. It’s annoying.”

 

“What ever you’re going to do, don’t,” called back Mizuki Kai. He had bleached his hair back to an inconspicuous gold-streaked maroon and wore a pair of large aviator sunglasses.

 

“I’m just taking a stroll,” she drawled.

 

“The yakuza are dangerous. Don’t get involved. Don’t bargain with them.”

 

“You have no right to stop me,” Kara replied.

 

He responded, “Are you doing it for the Black Dragon? Or Leiyun?”

 

“I do everything for myself, Kai. I’m not like you.” Kara spun around. “I don’t meddle in your business, do I? Then why can’t you let me be?”

 

Kai took off his sunglasses. Strands of his red-gold hair flew back from his forehead. “That’s a very silly question. You know you’re the missing link. According to prophesy, only when the descendent of a Li, Amamiya, Mizuki, Reed and Chang are gathered together and once more joined in a circle can the curse of the Dark Ones be broken.”

 

Her expressionless lilac eyes sized him, a stark black silhouette with flaming hair. “You dyed your hair again. Too bad. I liked your old color better.”

 

“Don’t change the subject.”

 

“You guys have Hiiragizawa Eriol.”

 

“You know as well as I do that a reincarnation of the soul does not mean the sharing of blood as the original vassal. Hiiragizawa Eriol does not hold any Reed blood in him.” Kai met Kara’s eyes. “You’re the last of the Reed line.” 

 

“Why couldn’t you just tell me that you’re following me because you missed me?” Kara tucked a loose strand of gold hair behind her elf-like ears.

 

“You once told me you hated sappy meaningless words like that, Karin-senpai.”

 

“Did I?” She stared at him a bit wistfully. “Why did you choose the Card Mistress’ side? Is it because of that Li-girl?” 

 

“No, I did not join the Alliance of the Stars because of Meilin. If I could, I would have stayed out of this battle all together. After all, I did my portion already, did I not, by gathering the Five Force Treasures.” He smiled crookedly. “I did it because it’s Sakura. She saved my mother’s life. You know I don’t like owing anyone a debt.”

 

Kara had known Kai for enough years to recognize the tone of admiration in his voice. She laughed out loud. “Kai, do you actually believe that sixteen-year-old girl can break the curse?”

 

“Why not?” With a sinister grin, Kai said, “If we’re all doomed anyway, I’d rather go down in style.”

 

 

 

It had not been easy getting rid of Kai, but she knew this area better than he did. Kara Reed burst through a rusty barbwire fence and kicked the door open to a half-demolished building, irritated about meeting Kai, irritated at how cocky he had become, irritated at herself for feeling a little bit sentimental when he called her ‘Karin-senpai.’ The stairs were steep and crumbling and she came to a dimly lit room that seemed like an office turned into sleeping quarters. 

 

A stout middle-aged with a receding hairline and dressed in a shiny white suit stared up at the golden-haired girl. “You. You’re that girl. The Black Dragon’s girl.”

 

She scowled at the musty smell of tobacco and stale alcohol in the room and told him coldly, “I am Kara Reed.”

 

Minato Abe scowled, snuffing a cigar into the ashtray. His life over the past weeks had turned upside down as the young Taoka Yoshinori had claimed ordinance over the Kanto and Chiba yakuza. “How did you find me here?”

 

A pert smile rested on her crimson lips. “You are in a desperate situation position right now. I can show you a way out.”

 

The man’s face darkened. “I don’t get it. Didn’t the Hong Kong triads sign an alliance with the Yamamoto-gumi and fully support the new head, that imbecile Taoka Yoshinori?”

 

“We did.”

 

“Then why―”

 

“Think, Minato-san,” said Kara with a smirk, pacing around him. “The Black Dragon doesn’t need a powerful, united Japanese yakuza.”

 

And Minato Abe’s jaw dropped. “You want me to be the inside dissenter?”

 

“You understand my language quickly,” said Kara with a smile.

 

“What benefit is there for me?” demanded the yakuza boss, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

 

“You don’t like Yamamoto-gumi nor the new boss. You should be thankful for an opportunity to weaken them.” Kara paced around the room, hands folded behind her back. “Minato-gumi is in debt. A lot of debt. You need a lot of money, and quickly. There’s only one way to get that much money quickly. Unless you rob a bank, that is. I can provide you a means of getting such a sum of money.”

 

“How?” he whispered.

 

She looked into his eyes. “Gambling.”

 

“Where? Pachinko? Casino?”

 

Kara shook her head. “No, you need a gamble where you know for hundred percent you are going to win. And you need a large-scale win, or else Minato-gumi is going to crumble.”

 

“So what is your suggestion?”

 

“Horseracing. The Japan Cup is coming up next week. If you gamble on the right horse, it’s a legitimate means of earning a lot money quickly.”

 

“How do I know what the winning horse would be?”

 

“Bet on me, and I’ll guarantee a win,” said Kara with a smile

 

Now, Minato Abe snorted. “You? Are you telling me you’re a professional jockey or something as well as the Black Dragon’s lieutenant? As if you can win against the likes of Tamemura Asuma―last year’s champion. Everyone knows he’s going to win and the lot will be split up that it won’t amount to much because everyone’s put their money on him.”

 

“I guarantee that I will be winning. And because nobody will be expecting a dark-horse candidate like me to win, you’ll get to claim the entire lot to yourself,” Kara replied.

 

“How can I trust your words?” demanded the disgruntled yakuza boss.

 

“You can’t. But do you have any other choice?”

 

“Say you are speaking truthfully, and that you will win and I reap the profits. Then, what do you want from me?”

 

“Your allegiance to the Li Jinyu, not Taoka Yoshinori, not Yamamoto-gumi, not even to Mintato-gumi.” Kara narrowed her eyes. “And remember, it would be a very simple feat for the likes of someone as worthless as yourself to just disappear one day. Don’t do anything foolish.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“It was a good idea having a family dinner out,” stated Kinomoto Fujitaka, looking up from the menu at his two children over the candlelight. It was Kinomoto family tradition to have dinner out together at least once a month, especially as it became more difficult for the three Kinomoto’s to coordinate meals together due to each of their busy schedule. “It’s been a while since we’ve eaten out together.”

 

“And it’ll be good to take a break from Li Syaoran’s cooking, and I haven’t had La Seine food in ages,” said Touya, rubbing his stomach. He swore he had gained back all the weight he had lost from dining on the hospital cafeteria food over the holidays.

 

“It’s too bad Syaoran-san couldn’t make it,” remarked Fujitaka. “We were supposed to finish our discussion about Nebuchadnezzar.”

 

Touya shrugged his shoulders. “Kid’s gotten a part time job somewhere.” Under his breath, he added, “Besides, the Brat is not a part of our family.”

 

“Syaoran-san is such a hardworking boy,” Fujitaka said with a smile. “He reminds me a bit of you, Touya-san.”

 

In outrage, Touya responded, “He and I have nothing in similar!”

 

“Of course not,” replied their waiter, setting down three glasses of water on the table. “Today’s special is a cream of mushroom soup and grilled bay scallops with a saffron vinaigrette sauce for appetizer. The main course is seared tuna with miso glaze and a side of mixed greens and filet mignon with bouillabaisse sauce and roasted russet potatoes on the side. Our desert is a chocolate and raspberry mousse and a mixed berry tart with homemade blueberry cream gelato.”  

 

Sakura choked on her ice water as she looked up to see their waiter, strikingly professional in a black vest and bowtie over a crisp white shirt, reciting the daily specials as he would an incantation spell. “W-what are you doing here?”

 

Li Syaoran blinked back at her, balancing a tray with one hand. “I have a part-time job here, what else?”

 

“Humph, the boss did take a liking to you, I remember,” remarked Touya. “Are you still prepping in the kitchen?”

 

Syaoran nodded.

 

Touya sighed. “What did you make tonight?”

 

“The chocolate mousse,” replied Syaoran.

 

“Well, pack us an extra serving of that later on, so that I can take it back to Yuki,” said Touya.

 

“As you please, most valued customer,” Syaoran stated, bowing mockingly.

 

The seared tuna melted in Sakura’s mouth and the chocolate mousse was heavenly―it would have been a perfect meal albeit their glowering waiter. This past month, he puzzled her more than anything else. Whatever his mission in Japan is, truthfully, it doesn’t seem like he’s trying very hard to accomplish it. I haven’t seen him do anything remotely Li Clan-related, and I should know since I’ve been watching him. She remarked, “Why did Li-kun take on a job, I wonder.”  

 

“Oh that.” Touya smirked. “He needs to pay back the repair cost for busting up my motorcycle which he stole the keys from my drawer.”

 

“Borrowed,” interceded Syaoran filling Touya’s glass to the brim with ice water, one hand behind his back.

 

“Learning bad habits from your good friend Kaitou Magician?” asked Touya. “I never gave you permission to ride it, hence taking without asking is called stealing, at least the last time I checked in the dictionary.”

 

“I said I’ll pay for the reparations,” grumbled Syaoran. On a second consideration, it had been a horrible idea thinking he could get away from “borrowing” Touya’s motorcycle without facing the consequences. “Besides you wouldn’t have known if I just returned it to the garage.” Unfortunately, during the epic showdown between the Minato-gumi and the Yamamoto-gumi, while the yakuza were engaged in gangster warfare, some local hooligan thought it would be fun to bust up all the motorcycles lining the beach warehouse that night, Touya’s motorcycle included. Touya had thrown a fit, and Syaoran hadn’t heard the end of it for the past two weeks. My motorcycle―you better pay for my precious Yamaha, and so forth. 

 

Touya’s midnight blue eyes glinted as he thoroughly enjoyed making the Brat squirm. “You don’t even have a license, do you?”

 

Syaoran whistled and swerved around. “Oh, the chef is calling for me.”

 

“I’m not finished talking to you!” called out Touya.

 

“What a good boy,” said Fujitaka, sipping on the service cup of coffee and biscotti on the side. “He took on a job to pay for your motorcycle repair, Touya-san?”

 

“You don’t understand, he was irresponsible and stole it in the first place―of course he needs to repair it,” stated Touya. “You know how much I treasure it.”

 

“It was your first big purchase,” his father replied nostalgically. “I remember how hard you worked for it.”

 

Sakura reflected and remarked, “Onii-chan worked multiple jobs when he was my age. Maybe I should take on a part-time job as well, otou-san.”

 

“I don’t want you to take on more than you can handle, but it won’t be a bad experience,” stated Fujitaka. He too had worked multiple jobs to get through college after he had left home.

 

But Touya scoffed, “You wouldn’t last in a job for a week, Kaijou.”

 

“Will too!” replied Sakura, indignant.

 

“Oh really?” Touya remarked, left brow cocked. “Clumsy, lazy, sleepyhead Kaijou who can barely finish tomorrow’s homework even without a job?”

 

“Oh, you don’t think I can do it? Li-kun can, why shouldn’t I be able to?” demanded Sakura.

 

“Well, as much as I hate to admit it, Li-kun already had the experience, and he’s not the one dangerously near flunking math,” replied her brother.

 

“So you think I can’t handle it?” Sakura’s eyes were fiery as she slammed her mousse spoon on the table. “I’ll prove it to you!”

 

 

 

*******

 

 

 

Later that night, Syaoran was surprised to find Sakura waiting cross-legged on the living room sofa in her over-sized bunny-hoodie, reading a newspaper for the first time ever.

 

“I’m thinking of getting a part-time job,” Sakura announced when Syaoran glanced at her quizzically. She had been circling ads with a highlighter. “Can you believe that onii-chan thinks I won’t be able to handle it? I’ll prove it to him!”

 

If Syaoran thought that Touya might have intentionally provoked her he didn’t say so otherwise. “Don’t you have enough to worry about without another chore added on top of it?”

 

“What, you don’t think I can do it either!” exclaimed Sakura indignantly.

 

“I didn’t say that.”

 

“Onii-chan had at least three part-time jobs a week on top of school and soccer,” replied Sakura. “And you too. Why should I not have a job as well?”

 

“Because, you should focus on capturing the dark forces,” Syaoran muttered under his breath.

 

“Well that is that, but I don’t think it would be a bad idea to get some work experience,” stated Sakura. “Besides, I need a little bit of pocket money.” She had been broke since Christmas and felt guilty always relying on her father when her brother had been financially independent since junior high. 

 

“I guess you’re right,” said Syaoran with a long sigh. Besides, it might help keep her mind off Eron.

 

“Oh wait, Tomoyo-chan said to give this to you,” said Sakura, holding up a deep emerald metallic flip-phone. “It’s the newest model from her mother’s company. She said it must be inconvenient for you not to have a cellphone. And since you work, you need a way for the manager to get in touch with you.”

 

Syaoran took it and saw a green teddy bear chain dangling from it.

 

“I got one too,” said Sakura, holding up her rose-pink cellphone with a pink teddy bear dangling from the corner. “The yakuza-san broke my old one last time. Tomoyo-chan said that she revived your old number because it was still available.”

 

“T-thanks,” said Syaoran. “I’ll thank her at school tomorrow.” The phone began vibrating. He jumped―he hadn’t had a cellphone in about a year. Frankly, the only people who had called him in the old days he had one were his mother, Meilin and Sakura, anyway. Gingerly, he flipped open the phone. “H-hello?”

 

“Li-kun!” exclaimed Tomoyo from the other end of the receiver. “Did Sakura-chan give you the phone? Do you like it? It’s inconvenient that we have no means of contacting you. Your number one speed dial is Sakura-chan. Like before. And your number two is me.”

 

“Thanks for the phone. You didn’t have to,” Syaoran said.

 

“There’s an updated HD photography and videotaping feature to the phone. Take lots of pictures and video clips of Sakura-chan at home, eating, sleeping, brushing her teeth and send them to me,” said Tomoyo cheerily.  

 

“Sure, sure.” Syaoran sighed. He knew there would be a catch. “And let me guess, is there a spy camera installed in the teddy bear keychain?”

 

“What teddy bear keychain?” asked Tomoyo. “Oh. Sakura-chan must have attached it.” She giggled and then hung up.

 

Sakura blinked up at him with her large green eyes. “What did Tomoyo-chan say?”

 

“N-nothing!” stammered Syaoran, stomping up the stairs in a hurry.

 

“I got one too!” exclaimed Kero-chan, holding up his gold cellphone proudly. Kero-chan flipped through the newspaper clippings. “So what do you need the extra money for?”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Kinomoto Sakura, did you say your name was?” said the manager of La Seine, eying the bright-eyed girl with golden-brown pulled into short pigtails. “You’re Kinomoto Touya-kun’s little sister? Do you have any work experience?”

 

“No,” replied Sakura meekly.

 

“Well, if you’re anything like your brother, I’m sure you won’t disappoint,” said the manager. “We’ve been short of hands lately since once of the waitresses quit. I’ll put you on a two-week trial period.”

 

“Thank you!” said Sakura, bowing her head down. “I will try my best.”

 

“Li-kun, I leave training the newbie to you,” stated the manager.

 

“Eh, why me?” protested Syaoran.

 

“Do you have a problem with it, Li-kun?”

 

“No sir, I’ll train her,” said Syaoran meekly.

 

 

 

Syaoran warily eyed Sakura, dressed in the crisp black and white restaurant uniform. Her golden-brown hair was clasped by a black barrette into a short ponytail. “It’s all good that you decided you wanted to get a job, but did you have to choose this particular restaurant out of the dozens of restaurants in this neighborhood?” he asked.

 

“There was no other place that would hire me,” replied Sakura, matter of fact.

 

“Did you even try?”

 

“This place has the best pay,” Sakura stated. “Onii-chan said so.”

 

Of course it was all the demon-king’s mastermind plan. “Well, you are here, and it seems like I’m in charge of you. Trainees are in charge of cleaning and dishes and stuff. If you break a dish, it’s docked from your pay.”

 

Sakura nodded. “Got it.”

 

The manager popped his head in the kitchen again. “By the way, Sakura-chan, you begin serving tonight.”

 

And Syaoran stared at her warily―washing the dishes and cleaning was one thing. Serving off the bat was another.

 

“What? I have experience waitressing during the school cultural festivals and stuff,” stated Sakura defensively.

 

“That’s a relief.”

 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

 

His amber eyes sparked in laughter seeing her pouted lips.

 

 

 

“Sous-chef Li, you’re distracted tonight,” remarked the Head Chef Nobuhiro as Syaoran chopped the onions later into the night. “Pass the pepper.”

 

“Yessir!” replied Syaoran, jumping.

 

“Eying the new waitress?” said the Chef with a chuckle as he seared the tuna over the blazing flame. “She’s a cute thing, isn’t she? I heard she’s Touya-kun’s little sister. Who knew that grouch had such an adorable younger sister?”

 

“I wonder if she’s single,” remarked the youngest assistant chef, blushing happily at the sight of a young high school girl.

 

Syaoran turned and glared at the assistant chef.

 

“Ah, well, I already have a girlfriend anyway so…” the assistant chef stammered, dismayed as one would be after witnessing the Little Wolf’s death glare for the first time.

 

“I don’t see what’s special about her at all,” stated a college sophomore waitress named Enomoto Izumi. “She’s awfully clumsy.”

 

Sakura came to the kitchen, flushed. “Order for table 18!”

 

“There you are, Kinomoto-san,” said the waitress. “You switched the orders. Get a grip.”

 

“Sorry, Enomoto-san!” exclaimed Sakura, bowing her head.

 

“Hurry, the customers are waiting!” called out the manager.

 

“I’m coming!” exclaimed Sakura.

 

As if in slow motion, Syaoran watched Sakura skid on her black high-heeled pumps, falling flat on her bottom, as her tray of dishes and drinks smashed on the floor.

 

“Kinomoto-san, look where you’re going!” exclaimed Enomoto Izumi. “Clean up this mess immediately. This is why newbies should know their place.”

 

Drenched in ice and soda, Sakura slowly sat up, trying to gather the shattered pieces of glass. She could feel all the eyes on her, and her ears were pink.

 

A blue handkerchief dropped on her head. Sakura looked up to see Syaoran staring down at her. He ears turned an even deeper crimson. Why did Syaoran have to witness this?

 

“Kinomoto-san, I’ll clean up the mess. You should go to the locker room and dry up,” said Syaoran.

 

Sakura gulped, nodding.

 

He turned to the older girl. “Enomoto-san, can you please run back to the kitchen and grab the drinks for table 18?”

 

“Y-yes, Li-san!” exclaimed Enomoto Izumi, blushing.

 

“Li-san is so dreamy,” remarked another older waitress with a sigh. “I wonder if he’s single.”

 

 

 

The rest of the evening was so hectic, that Syaoran could barely keep track of his own orders. But as the night began to wind down, he realized that Sakura was nowhere in sight. He wiped off the kitchen counter and opened the supply closet. As he expected, Syaoran found Sakura glooming behind the mop bucket as the restaurant prepared to shut down. “Tough day?”

 

“Having a job is a lot harder than I thought,” Sakura replied, hugging her knees to her chest. “There’s so much to memorize, and the trays are much harder to balance then I thought. And some people are awfully impatient, and I keep forgetting who ordered what and they get mad at me for taking too long.”

 

“You did a good job for your first day,” said Syaoran with a half-smile. “The first day I started working, I knocked over a big stack of plates, and then almost got fired on the spot for talking back to a customer. I was stuck dishwashing and trash-sorting, and the manager never could remember my name―I was all ready to quit after the first week.”

 

Sakura almost smiled, chin leaned against her knees. “I didn’t know that. I always thought you’re good at everything on the first try.”

 

Shaking his head, Syaoran said, “I don’t have a lot of patience, and you know I’m bad at dealing with people.”

 

“No, you were very patient with me,” said Sakura. “Even earlier today, you helped me out.” Like you always have.

 

“It’s natural for comrades to help each other out,” replied Syaoran bluntly. Then he blushed slightly. “I mean work comrades. Yukito-san and even your brother helped me out a lot when I got started.”

 

“Onii-chan did?” asked Sakura, raising an eyebrow. Yukito-san would help out anyone, but her brother was a firm believer of struggling on your own. “My onii-chan?”

 

“He doesn’t like me, still doesn’t, understandably,” said Syaoran. “But he’s a fair person, and I do respect that about him.”

 

“I see,” said Sakura, cheeks pink. Though he teased her horribly all the time, she too was very proud of her brother, and to hear Syaoran’s words made her strangely pleased.

 

And somewhere on the other side of town, Kinomoto Touya sneezed in the midst of dinner break at the hospital and wondered if someone was talking about him.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

The first week at La Seine was quite a humbling experience for Sakura―she hadn’t felt so incompetent and clumsy since her early days as Card Captor. Sakura was sure if it hadn’t been for Syaoran, she would have been long since fired. Today, the manager scolded her for spilling coke on a customer and breaking three plates, and she had been relegated to extra dishwashing. Sakura eyed the stack of dirty dishes towering over her. It was long past closing hours, and as the newbie, she was stuck with closing down the restaurant. When was she ever going to finish them all? Her shoulders and back ached. 

 

“You’re still here?” asked Syaoran, stepping into the kitchen at the sound of the running water.

 

Sakura forced a smile. “I’m almost finished. Go home first.”

 

With a frown, Syaoran walked up to her and grabbed her arm. He peeled off the rubber gloves and saw her raw, blistered fingers and demanded angrily, “Who made you do all these dishes by yourself?”

 

“It’s my duty,” replied Sakura. “I’ll do them.”

 

The determined gleam in Sakura’s eyes was nothing new. Feeling murderous towards Enomoto-san who should have been on duty with Sakura, he sighed. “I’ll help.”


“But…”

 

Syaoran glared at her. “The sooner you finish, the sooner we can go home.”

 

“Go home first,” said Sakura, wiping the sweat off her brows with the back of her sleeve.

 

“Your brother will kill me if he finds out that I’ve let you walk back home near midnight without an escort,” he replied, pushing the wine glasses towards the other sink and turning on the water faucet.

 

She shook her head. “Onii-chan is so old-fashioned. It’s a perfectly safe neighborhood.”

 

“Well, I’m not okay with it either,” said Syaoran gruffly, scrubbing the dirty dishes viciously that his voice was drowned about by the water.

 

Then Sakura narrowed her eyes in sudden realization. “Did onii-chan recommend me to this job because you work here?”

 

“If he had his way, if you had to take on a part-time job, he would be either employed here or watching over you as a stalkerish customer. But he trusts this place, the manager, the chef, and the customers are usually families and couples, so no creepy customers that might try to take advantage of you―he’s worked here before so he’s deemed it the safest working environment for you.” Syaoran hid a smile. “And he told me that if you come home with so much as a chaff on you pinky finger, he’d skin me alive and boil me in the Chef’s special hot sauce.”

 

That sounded very much like what her brother would say. Sakura didn’t know what to be more disturbed by: the fact that her brother and Syaoran seemed to be getting along or the fact that the two of them seemed to enjoy getting along. 

 

The two finished in speed time―Syaoran was an expert dishwasher, a testament to his long hours working at the restaurant. Sakura had found this out while living with him that oddly enough, Syaoran enjoyed doing the dishes. “It’s relaxing,” he had said. Then again, he found her father’s esoteric textbooks interesting and enjoyed waking up in the morning and jogging around the town at the crack of dawn. 

 

She had to admit, it was nice having someone to walk back home with in the dark. It would be a lot scarier having her first job without knowing anyone there. It was nice talking about little nothings and little somethings. But even then, in the back of her mind, she could not help thinking of Kai’s words. “He’s meant to do great deeds, not to be limited to some tiny town in Japan.” And she couldn’t help thinking there may not be many more days left to walk with him when the sun is down and watch his eyes glow in the moonlight and just talk, laugh, hear him grumble about the cold.

 

“Are you all right?” He was genuinely concerned.

 

“Hmm… Yeah. Sorry… I spaced out,” said Sakura, walking besides Syaoran as they slowly walked on home from the bus station, hands in her coat pocket. It was chilly in the nighttime, and Syaoran was swathed in a red cable knit scarf. She was so used to watching his gait, the way his shoulders hunched over when it was cold, his long strides with his hands in his pocket. He was always considerate and never walked to fast, just steady enough so that she could keep up comfortably without bumping into him. And though it sounded like he wasn’t listening to her ceaseless chatter, he was actually taking it all in. “I think the manager hates me―he’s always glaring at me. Chef Nobuhiro seems nice though―he called me into the kitchen today, and I was scared stiff, but he only wanted me to taste his new soufflé recipe.”

 

Syaoran smiled. “Once you get to know him, he’s great. All that’s on his mind is food.”

 

“Kind of like Yukito-san,” remarked Sakura with a chuckle. “I found out today that the Chef’s surname is Oishi. Oishi Nobuhiro. It’s like he was predestined to become a cook.”

 

“With all the experience we’re getting, maybe we should open up a restaurant after all,” remarked Syaoran. “When I see Chef Nobuhiro, he looks so happy in the kitchen, I’m jealous of him.”

 

“Say, did you ever have a dream like that?” Sakura asked. “One thing to say, this is it. This is what I want to devote my life to.”

 

“Did you?”

 

Sakura wrinkled her brows in deep thought. “I don’t know. Back in the days, all I wanted to do was capture all the Clow Cards safely. And over the past two years, I just wanted to safely seal all the dark forces without too much mishap. Truthfully, I don’t think I had the mindset to really think of anything else.” She paused and turned to Syaoran. Was his dream to become the Great Elder? Hadn’t that been his dream since he was a child, to follow his father’s footsteps? 

 

“Maybe I did,” replied Syaoran, staring up at the starry sky. “I think once, I did not know how to differentiate between ‘dream’ and ‘duty.’”

 

“And now you do?”

 

“Yeah. I think I do.” Syaoran smiled ruefully. “I envy those who can freely pursue their dream.”

 

“Who said you can’t complete your duty and pursue your dreams as well?” said Sakura. “You can’t have everything, but it doesn’t you have to give up everything either. Sometimes, there’s a strange balance that can be found.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like this.” Sakura stared up at the night sky, hands folded behind her back. “I thought I would never see you again, but I did. I thought we could never talk to each other like friends again, but we are.”

 

He smiled, gazing at her. “I guess you are right.”

 

This past month has been like a blessing. Perhaps it’s make-believe, but does it matter? Time that I never thought I could spend with you, I am spending with you, morning, day and night. It’s like a magic spell, and the person standing before me might only be an illusion. When the clock strikes midnight, everything will disappear. It might really be my last chance to see you. Though I can’t stop time, I can stop the clock. So long as I don’t say anything, the clock won’t strike midnight.

 

Even if my wish can’t come true, I can continue on dreaming.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Part II: Moon wanes…

 

 

 

The distant cawing of crows sent a shiver down her spine. Autumn had given way to one of the last winters of the Edo feudal era, and the trees looked strangely naked and brittle in the morning mist. A woman dressed in the traditional white kimono and red hakama of a miko with a straw broom in her hand gazed at the space between the two spruce trees, as if she could almost see the girl with green eyes like Amamiya Hayashi. Her own eyes were a sad blue-gray like the sky. There was something about the way the corner of her lips curved into a sad smile as she looked up at the flakes of snow drifting down that reminded Sakura of Kai. Mizuki Mayura continued to sweep the snow off the temple path, wisps of auburn hair falling over her shoulder. She looked up again to find a deadly pale woman with long curls unwinding from her bun standing before her. “Risa!” Mayura exclaimed. “What are you doing here at this time?” Clutching her stomach, Chang Risa collapsed atop the temple steps, her violet-black hair spread out across the sheet of white blanketing the pavement.


”Risa, what is wrong?” Mayura dropped her broom and ran over to her friend. Her gray eyes widened in horror as she saw the crimson stain through Risa’s saffron-colored kimono onto the snow like a carnelian blossom blooming. “Risa, you’re bleeding...” But she was levelheaded as usual and quickly wrapped a blanket around her friend and ushered her to a room.

 

Some moments later, Amamiya Hayashi showed up, disheveled like Mayura had never seen him before. “Is Risa here?” he asked, breathless.

 

“Good. You’re here. Her condition is unstable,” said Mayura staidly, carrying out bloodstained bed sheets to wash. Her auburn hair was tied back away from her face and her white sleeves were folded up. “She might lose the baby at this rate.”

 

“Baby?” asked Hayashi.

 

Mayura’s steel-gray eyes widened. “You mean Risa hasn’t told you yet? It’s been four months already.”

 

“No, she did not tell me.” Hayashi’s eyes darkened. How could he have missed all the signs? He, of the Third Eye, had been so immersed in events far-off that he had missed out all the vital signals that could be visible to the plain eye, under his own roof. It was at that moment he had a premonition of everything falling apart. “How is she? Can I see her?”

 

“She won’t recognize you right now―she doesn’t recognize any one―but you should go and stay by her side. She seemed greatly in shock from something.”

 

“I was with Shulin,” Hayashi said quietly.

 

“She’s back in Japan?” Mayura frowned. “You did nothing to hurt Risa, did you?”

 

“I might have done an unforgivable thing. And we will all pay for it in the years to come,” Hayashi replied in a chill voice.

 

“Oh Hayashi, how could you? Do you know how Risa was excited to be with your child? There is no one who loved you more than her.”

 

“I know.” Hayashi’s shoulders were stooped. For the first time, Mayura wondered how much Hayashi of the Third Eye could see, and if he already knew the outcome of the downward spiral of the Great Five. And for the first time, she pitied him.

 

 

 

Tears of agony streamed down Chang Risa’s face. Her stomach throbbed like a thousand knives stabbing her womb.

 

“How are you Risa, are you feeling all right?” came that gentle lulling voice that she loved to hear. Or perhaps she was dreaming again. After all, why would Hayashi-sama be here?

 

Her voice came out in gasps. “I knew it was too good to be true… For Hayashi-sama to love me, it was not possible. I told myself not to be greedy, to watch him from afar. But I desired more. He told me he would protect me, that he would always stay with me. And I was so happy. Even if he did not love me, just to have him by my side. But it hurt. It still hurt when I realized he would never truly love me, not even in a hundred years. But it’s okay. It’s all right. I have this baby. Our baby. He will love our baby even if he doesn’t love me.” She gasped as a ripping pain shook through her body as she became aware of a hollow ache. Her hands clutched her stomach. “My baby…”

 

A cool cloth wiped her forehead. Mayura said, “Risa, just rest now. You must gain your health back.”

 

“My baby… It’s not here anymore…” Risa whispered, reaching out in front of her to the darkness.

 

“I’m sorry, Risa. It was a miscarriage,” said Mayura. “Your body is unstable―you must lie down and rest.”

 

“No… Not my poor baby,” said Risa, tears streaming down her eyes. “Hayashi-sama, forgive me.” She could sense that Hayashi was by her side. He always had the soothing presence of bamboos trees in the midst of a forest.

 

“Risa, your health is more important to me. There can be children in the future,” said Hayashi, clasping her emaciated cold hands. If she still had her vision, she would have been able to see the wetness glistening in his green eyes. But she was doomed to eternal darkness, where the only light in her life was Hayashi’s kind voice and the warmth of his touch.  

 

“No, Hayashi-sama. I won’t be able to… It was our only chance,” Risa whispered. “My baby, my little Hana, can’t be gone. I wanted her to name her Hanako―she would have been beautiful as a flower. I was sure she would be a girl with a beautiful smile like Hayashi-sama’s. You would have told her what color her eyes were and if her hair was golden-brown like yours. Or perhaps, dark like mine. ”

 

“Risa…” Amamiya Hayashi’s head sank into his hands, brows furrowed.

 

“I’m sorry, Hayashi-sama, I’m sorry,” she whispered in haunting desperation.

 

“Shhh… Risa, you must sleep now.” Mayura brushed away a lock of hair from Risa’s face. “Hayashi, can you bring another blanket? We’ve got to keep her warm.”

 

 

 

Fiery amber eyes fringed with long black lashes, lush scarlet lips and luminous skin; Li Shulin was a woman who looked like a painting come to life, whose beauty seemed to fade out all else that stood by her side even though today, her long black hair hung lank and her eyes were red-rimmed as if she had been crying. But Mayura did not have sympathy for this headstrong girl who had always been like a sister to her, a willful, temperamental younger sister who often acted brashly without thinking.

 

Shulin, eyes bloodshot, turned to Mayura. “It’s all my fault. I should never have come back.” Her cold fingers grasped Mayura’s arms with an iron grip. “How is she? Is she doing better?”

 

“Her body’s always been so frail. I’m worried for her,” replied Mayura shortly.

 

“If I apologize to her―“

 

Steel gray eyes flashing, Mayura said, “Shulin, don’t you think you’ve caused enough damage with your selfish whims? You’re not a girl anymore. You can’t do as you please and not think about the consequences. Go to Landon. He needs you. You should not be here.”

 

“Risa’s going to be all right, isn’t she? Hayashi will watch over her,” said Shulin, uncertainty and anxiety making her jittery and jerky.

 

Mayura was brutally curt with her. “I don’t know. Her mental condition is not stable and she’s anemic from losing so much blood from the miscarriage.”

 

“She was… pregnant?” Shulin crumpled to her knees. “I had no idea. What have I done, Mayura?”

 

“He did not know. She had not told him yet.” Mayura turned around. “Hayashi will be back with the herbs any minute. You should leave now. Try and see if you can get in touch with Ruichi.”

 

“Ruichi? Her condition is not…that serious?”

 

“She doesn’t want to get better. She lost her baby. She refuses to eat and drink. She will die at this rate.”

 

“It was unborn, unnamed. She can have more children in the future,” said Shulin. Her eyes darkened. Hayashi’s children. Children she had thought she would bear one day. “This is not the end.”

 

A frown came over Mayura’s brows. “I don’t know. Her body was never meant to carry a child. It’s a miracle she conceived in the first place―and after this, it’ll be very hard for her…”

 

“I’m a horrible person. For a second, I thought if she died, then I can be with Hayashi.” Shulin covered her face. “But I love Risa too. We were all like sisters. I never meant to hurt her.”

 

“And she never meant to hurt you either,” Mayura said. “He chose her, Shulin, not you. And you have to come to terms with that. You should never see Hayashi again. You’re betrothed to Landon. Don’t hurt him as well.”

 

 

 

When Mayura was seven, she had seen her mother die. A couple years ago, her father, priest of the Tsukimine Shrine, had fallen ill, and she had been by his side, nursing him till he drew his final breath. She knew death when she saw it. First there was anger and despair. Then, came the silent resignation of one who had lost the will to fight. She knew the signs very well as she nursed a rapidly declining Risa.

 

“You can’t tell onii-sama,” whispered Risa, gripping Mayura’s arm with frail, bony fingers. Cold perspiration formed on her brows. Her lips were cracked, and her white face emaciated. “He will get mad. I don’t want him to see me like this.”

 

“Risa, you need to eat and gain your strength,” said Mayura pleadingly. “Ruichi will scold me if he sees how much weight you have lost.”

 

She pushed aside the bowl of porridge. “I’m not hungry.”

 

“Please just one bite,” coaxed Mayura, holding up a spoon. “You’re going to die at this rate!”


”I don’t care.”

 

Tears blurred Mayura’s eyes. “We care. You know how worried Hayashi has been? He’s always here by your side when you’re sleeping…Shulin has come too.”

 

“He still loves her,” murmured Risa. “I was a fool not to see that. No. I always knew that he loved her and she loved him. But I was selfish. I thought that if I loved him enough, one day, he will return my feelings. Because nobody can love him more than I do. Not even her. Not even her…”

 

“He loves you now, Risa. He chose you. He is your husband.” Mayura closed her eyes. Free-spirited Hayashi as a husband. She could never imagine him as a married man, let alone be the first of them to settle into matrimony. But Hayashi was good to Risa. Hayashi was good to everyone. Perhaps that was his flaw.

 

“I’ve been nothing but a burden to him from the beginning,” said Risa, opening pale golden eyes that did not see. She had not hesitated one moment when she stepped in front of the dark force that was about to attack Hayashi. When she had lost her vision, she thought about a life ahead of her without color, without light, and she thought she could die. But Hayashi-sama had been by her side. It was like a dream come true. He had been her eyes, her source of light and hope. He had been her arms and legs and taught her of warmth and tenderness she had not thought possible for someone as insignificant as her. “I know that. But was it wrong for me to seek for a little happiness? Oh, the past year has been so blissful. I never thought I could be so happy. I am grateful for that.” 

 

“Risa, don’t talk like that,” Mayura said, stroking Risa’s damp hair. “There are going to be many more happy years ahead of us. You and Hayashi will have many children. Landon and Shulin too―knowing those two, I’m sure they’ll have a dashingly handsome son who will grow up to be a great heartbreaker. Maybe I will have children as well, a son or daughter or two. And our children will all be as great friends as we all are. They’ll be the next generation of the Great Ones, you’ll see.”  

 

“Oh, how I wish to see that,” Risa murmured with true yearning.

 

“You will, someday,” whispered Mayura, clasping her dear friend’s hand.

 

 

 

But that day never did come. The rest of the story unfolded like a recurring nightmare that was hit on constant replay mode. Sakura could not wake up, and even if she did, she would awake to this same scene in an endless loop. It was the day when everything began and everything ended. One overcast winter’s night Chang Risa, clad in a white kimono, slipped out of the temple towards the mountain like she was in a trance. Gray clouds loomed overhead and it began to rain as she climbed up Mount Kumatori. Her bare feet left small imprints in the dirt path. 

 

It was too late when the Amamiya Hayashi found the empty room back at the shrine. Hayashi ran up to the summit to find Risa standing dangerously near the edge. The wind whipped back her unbound violet-blue hair and she seemed other-earthly in her sheet-white robe, a woman who had finally given into the deafening chambers of utter despair. “Come back Risa! It’s dangerous!” he called out.

 

“Hayashi-sama, you’re here.” Risa’s golden eyes were unclouded as if she could see him standing in front of her as clear as day. The tip of her heels dangled off the edge. “I thought I wouldn’t be able to hear your voice one last time.”

 

“Don’t be silly, Risa.” He held out his hand. “Here, come to me!”

 

“I was very happy while I was with you. I will always cherish that time. But I won’t be a burden to you anymore. I will join my baby now. My poor Hana-chan who never got to see daylight.” Her lips moved faintly. “Gomennassai, Hayashi-sama… Sayonara…” The weight over her body tipped back.

 

“RISA!!!” He dashed forward frantically, throwing out his arm. “Hold my hand, Risa!”

 

In that brief second where the tip of his fingers could almost brush against hers, she smiled at him calmly, as if she could see the tears flowing from his forest green eyes. And his outstretched hands grasped thin air as her body hurled headfirst over the edge of the cliff, dropping down to the deep abyss below. Amamiya Hayashi crumpled onto his knees. “Risa…”

 

A man in a navy kimono, with long blue-black hair tied up in a high ponytail, pushed forward and collapsed on the ground at the edge of the cliff, clenching his fingers into the dirt. He stared hollowly at the black chasm blow. He knelt over, beating his fist on the ground as he cried out, “RISA! NOOO!”

 

Almost afraid that Chang Ruichi might jump after his sister, Mayura placed a hand on his sleeve, as he screamed and howled his twin’s name over and over again, voice drowned out by the deafening roar of the rapids below. Pushing her away, Chang Ruichi sat up golden eyes dilated. He turned around and grabbed Hayashi’s bare throat with muddy hands, face contorted in rage. “You killed her. You killed Risa.”

 

Hayashi did not respond as the fingers clenched tighter.

 

“Bring her back! Bring my sister back!” exclaimed Ruichi, shaking Hayashi. “BRING HER BACK!”

 

“Ruichi―stop it!” exclaimed Mizuki Mayura, grabbing his arm. “Please―let Risa’s soul rest in peace now.” Her gray eyes glistened as she put a reassuring hand on Shulin’s shoulder. Li Shulin sat on her knees, paralyzed. Behind her, a tall man with long golden hair stood silently, watching over Shulin with sorrowful midnight eyes.

 

Ruichi was suddenly still, and a frantic expression came over his face. “We can save her. With our powers combined, we can do anything. We have the powers to save her.” He stared up desperately at the four with his hungry golden eyes. 

 

Slowly, Hayashi shook his head. “There are things that even we can’t do.”

 

“There’s nothing impossible for us!” Chang Ruichi gave a short laugh as his long blue-black hair thrashed in the wind. A delirious look came over his face. “We are the Great Five, aren’t we?”

 

“Ruichi, we can’t,” Mayura said.

 

“Why not?” Ruichi crumpled to his knees, sobbing into his hands like a broken child. His voice cracked. “Bring back Risa…”

 

If she could have cried, Sakura would have cried out loud for Chang Risa and the unborn baby. But no tears fell. Only her chest ached as it was lit on fire and her eyeballs seemed to burn and smother till darkness engulfed her. Her heart was one with Chang Ruichi and she opened her parched mouth and screamed in fury, “Risa! Bring her back! Bring my sister back!” She screamed and screamed but nobody could hear her.

 

 

 

~~~~~~

 

 

 

“Wake up,” a curt voice commanded.

 

“Don’t jump,” she gasped, and he knew she wasn’t speaking to him. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

 

A silver sheen of perspiration covered her forehead as she thrashed about in her bed. “It’s all right, Sakura. It’s all right. It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault.” Her whole body shuddered and her voice was choked as her lips twisted in a silent scream of horror.

 

With a start, Sakura woke up to find a large hand covering her mouth. Her eyes widened. The birds were chirping outside and glimpses of sunlight seeped in through the cracks of the yellow curtains. Her pulse was racing, and she could still feel the icy wind and the dampness on her skin from the cliff side. The fingers trailed off her lips and she realized she was trembling hard, even as that same warm hand began to stroke her head in a familiar gesture. His voice that had woken her was scratchy but soothing. “It’s not your fault. There was nothing that could have been done.”

 

Drawing her blankets up to her chest, she squinted up at the profile silhouetted by the drawn curtains. “Who are you? Have I met you before? I remember those eyes.”

 

He stepped back from her, taken aback. Then, he realized that her eyes were glazed over as she was still dreaming. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.” Fresh tears flowed freely down her already damp cheeks.

 

“Sakura, it’s me,” he said with a wavering voice. “You can wake up now. Good girl.”

 

To his relief, she had snapped out of her trance-like state as she looked around her, then touched her cheeks as if surprised by its wetness. Quickly, she wiped her face with her pajama sleeves. She was fully awake and alert now as she stared in bewilderment at him. “What are you doing here? Don’t come into a girl’s room without knocking!”

“I knocked. Five times.”

 

“You did?”

 

“You were having a nightmare, weren’t you?” he replied.

 

“What makes you think that?” Sakura realized that her breath gave her away. She throat was hoarse.

 

“You were screaming.”

 

Sakura glanced over at her desk drawer. “No I wasn’t. Kero-chan would have heard and woken me up if I was.”

 

“I heard you. Loud and clear,” Syaoran insisted, arms crossed.

 

And Sakura looked up to get a proper look at Syaoran. His hair was mussed, and he looked strangely vulnerable in his rumpled green pajamas, as if he had awoken with a start. She glanced over at her alarm clock and with a sigh, dragged herself out of bed, grabbed her face towel and walked out of her room to take a morning shower since she was drenched in sweat.  

 

For a while, Syaoran was silent after Sakura left the room. “Does she do that often?” he asked.

 

Kero-chan hesitated. “Yeah. She used to every night.”

 

“For how long?”

 

“I don’t know. It was on and off since last summer. It’s been better lately.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

There was only one person he was fairly certain he could get a truthful answer from. Li Syaoran watched the girl with the long dark hair loosely tied over one shoulder with a yellow satin ribbon, calmly sipping a cup of Earl Grey in her parlor. “Tea?” she asked.

 

He shook his head, to the point as always. “Tomoyo, when exactly did you say Sakura lost her memories?”

 

“A little before summer break,” replied Daidouji Tomoyo. She had been wondering when he would muster up enough curiosity to come to her. “June, to be exact, the day of the Seijou Cultural Fair.”

 

“Did something happen?”

 

Tomoyo set her teacup down and smoothed out the crinkles in her yellow and white checkered muslin skirt. “She fainted inside the Fortune Teller’s Tent. Rido-senpai was with her.” Tomoyo paused and looked up at Syaoran. “Eron-kun took her to the infirmary. I myself wasn’t there. But Yukito-san later told me that when he spoke to her that evening, she did not seem to remember who you were.”

 

Syaoran stared down at the floral print on the parlor carpet, still standing as he had declined Tomoyo’s earlier offer to take a seat. “And Eron. Eron gave up Chang Ruichi’s powers to be a part of Sakura’s circle. He’s been by her side all these months.”

 

“Yes he has.” Tomoyo’s amethyst eyes seemed to pierce through him. “You were not surprised when you learned Sakura-chan had lost her memories of you. In fact, you seemed almost relieved. Because you probably would not have carried out your tasks for the Li Clan the way you did if Sakura had remembered you.”

 

Syaoran could not meet her analytical gaze and continued to stare at the floor.

 

“I think you might have chosen a different course of action when you returned to Japan had she not forgotten about you. Or maybe I’m mistaken.”

 

“You’re right. I might have acted differently had the circumstances been different. But what is done is done.”

 

“I won’t ask you what your mission is or the reasons behind your actions up till now,” said Tomoyo. “All I want to know is your true intentions.”

 

Because Syaoran did not respond, Tomoyo continued, “I spent summer vacation with Sakura―we shared a room. Every single night, she repeated the same words, as if she were having a recurring nightmare. But you’ve been living with her all these weeks. You must have heard them too.”

 

Syaoran nodded.

 

“I’m pretty sure she must have learned through Kara-san the events that lead to the Great Five’s demise. Though I don’t understand the story completely, I get the gist of it, as it is my family history as well.” She paused with a frown. “I don’t think Sakura in her heart could forgive Amamiya Hayashi-sama for his part in the destruction of the Circle of Five. She lost confidence in her cause, her very reason to fight. For she felt more sympathetic towards the Dark Ones’ plight. I think if I were someone with as much compassion as Sakura, I too would despair were I to find out that the very enemy I have been fighting against might not be the villain but yet another victim. In her own way, forgetting you was the only way to pay for the sins of her ancestors.”

 

“Why aren’t you more condemnatory toward me?” asked Syaoran wearily. “There’s no denying I did the things I did since I’ve come back.”

 

“True.” Her violet eyes were completely unreadable. “That day in the mountains, when she almost fell off the cliff. I know you saved her.”

 

“How do you―” Syaoran narrowed his eyes. Then again, Tomoyo always had an uncanny intuition.

 

“Sakura said it. She said that you were there. She was under the influence of the Veil and Memory at that time, and since you’ve given up your powers, she couldn’t have sensed you. She didn’t see your face nor hear your voice. But she still remembered you.”

 

He forced a short laughter. “It could be a lapse of memory.” 

 

Tomoyo gave him an oddly scrutinizing look. “I was the only one there and she told me. She told me that though she didn’t sense your powers and she couldn’t see your face, she knew it had to be you, that she would recognize you anywhere. I don’t know what it is if you take every single one of your senses and even your memory away from a person, and still have that person recognize you. Your name and your face had been erased from her mind, but she still remembered your existence. I wonder why that is. Eriol-kun said it’s hard to break a habit. But I think differently. After all, you both came back from Memoria with your memory intact. How was that possible? If Sakura truly wanted to forget you, you would not have been able to return from there.”

 

Syaoran suddenly recalled something Kara had once said to him. “What an idiot you are. You think just because you have been deleted from her memory that your past existence as Li Syaoran has ceased to exist? A child unborn is still a child lost to a mother who miscarried. A love unrequited is still an emotion true and real to one in love. And a memory forgotten is still an event once experienced even though it has faded from the mind.”

 

“You didn’t go back to Hong Kong out of your own will,” said Tomoyo, almost imploringly, with no trace of her cool aloofness from earlier. “Why can’t you tell her that? You can’t hide the fact that you gave up your powers for her. She’s going to figure it out sooner or later.” 

 

Syaoran looked at her with his sad amber eyes that always touched her sentimental soul, those same frank eyes that had looked into hers when he had been a boy, admitting the truth of his heart. Of course. Syaoran hadn’t changed. He was still that same ten-year-old boy who had hesitated to tell his true feelings to Sakura because he was afraid she might become troubled by it. A little more gently, Tomoyo said, “After all, Sakura has been waiting. She has been waiting all this time for you to return, Syaoran-kun.”

 

“Even if that were true, she’s not anymore,” said Syaoran slowly. “I can assure that.”

 

Tomoyo only looked down into her teacup and sipped her now lukewarm tea. 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Sakura stifled a big yawn in the middle of class.

 

“Didn’t get much sleep?” asked Eron, his head positioned remarkably near her face during homeroom. “Don’t tell me Syaoran-kun has been harassing you during nighttime.”


She jumped in her seat.

 

“You have darks circles underneath your eyes.” Eron smiled thinly. “Remember, you promised things are going to be normal between us.”

 

She nodded. “R-right, Eron-kun.” How could he be so fine?

 

“So, I heard you got a job at La Seine with dear Syaoran-kun.” Eron watched her with his glinting golden eyes. 

 

“Not with him, per say,” Sakura said. “It was coincidence.”

 

“And they say there is no such thing as coincidence. I wonder why out of all the jobs you could take did you choose one in the same place as him?” Eron remarked snidely, tilting his head towards Syaoran.

 

“It has good pay, and the manager knew my brother, so I got it pretty easily,” said Sakura shortly.

 

“I don’t want you to be with him at work as well.”

“Why not?” asked Sakura wearily. She didn’t need to point out that Eron was the one who had broken up with her in the first place.

 

“I just don’t,” replied Eron. “It irritates me that you live with him, go to school with him and that you even work with him. I guess living conditions and school, you can’t change. But do seriously have to spend any more time with him than necessary?”

 

“Then what do you expect me to do? Change jobs?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Sakura glared at him. “I can’t; I just started to learn the routine.”

 

“Quit then. Why did you suddenly get a job anyway?”

 

“I need the extra money,” replied Sakura.

 

“Then get Syaoran to quit,” stated Eron.

 

“It’s not my place to suggest to him what he does. If it bothers you so much, well, why don’t you work there too?” stated Sakura in exasperation.

 

Eron blinked as the idea sank into him. “Fine, I will.”

 

Sakura gazed into Eron’s inscrutable face; she never knew when he was in jest or not.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Apparently he hadn’t been in jest. Never in a thousand years could anyone have imagined Chang Eron to be wearing a black and white waiter’s uniform with a bowtie at his collar, serving. Sakura mopped the kitchen tiles, watching the waitresses fawn over Chang Eron. She had always thought that Eron never quite fit into a school setting. Eron, when he was not being a manipulative erudite, could be quite charming, and he looked very polished and refined in his white dress shirt, black vest, black bowtie and black trousers, his hair tied back by a slim black ribbon. Unlike his twin sister, he could read people easily, and knew how to flatter someone and manage to insult them at the same time while maintaining a certain amount of mystique in character. The manager personally was intimidated by Eron, but it was hard to come by such a good looking employee.

 

“What is he doing here?” grumbled Syaoran, pulverizing the onions to mush.

 

“I’m sorry―I didn’t think he’d actually do it,” groaned Sakura as Eron flashed her a brilliant grin.

 

“He’s quite a find, isn’t he,” the manager of La Seine remarked. “His knowledge of wine is impressive―he’s starting as a server. He’s quite a looker, that one. He can be a model with that bone structure. I heard you’re classmates. Are you friends with Chang-kun, Li-kun?”

 

Syaoran let out a rude snort and went on to attack the bell peppers.

 

 

 

By the end of the day, Sakura was eating her words. It was her suggestion that had prompted Eron to start working at La Seine, only she had never thought he would have taken it seriously. Strangely enough, Eron seemed to be mildly amused, sauntering around the tables with a wine bottle in hand, clean white napkin draped over his left hand like a pro sommelier. To him, it was play-acting. He walked up to a distinguished-looking middle-aged couple who asked his expertise on what to have with the entrée. “Madame, with your order of salmon, I would recommend this Pinot Noir from Burgundy which would counterbalance the richness of the fish with it fruity, robust flavor.”

 

With a lavish pop, Eron pulled the corkscrew and poured a taste for the lady. She swirled the red wine around the glass, sipped, then nodded to her husband. Eron proceeded to pour them each a glass expertly without spilling, without dripping. The couple seemed satisfied with the selection and smiled up at their handsome young waiter. “What a handsome boy,” they thought.

 

Over the course of the evening, Eron grew very popular with the customers. “Sir, I would recommend with your steak this vintage Bourdeaux Cabernet Sauvignon, which we call the ‘King of Red Wines,’ and is suitable for such a refined gentleman as yourself.”

 

The stocky gentleman he was serving seemed very pleased with the selection, and nodded to his group of businessmen. And Sakura, arranging the bread baskets, looked up at slight awe at Eron, as if she was seeing him for the first time. She hadn’t known that Eron was so knowledgeable about wines, though she knew that Eron kept a wine cellar at home. It wasn’t right for a high schooler to know so much about wines, but then again, Eron always seemed to be more adult than his age. Not to be outdone by Eron, Syaoran also pranced around the floor balancing three trays at once, being very cordial and agreeable for a change. 

 

“Not since Kinomoto-kun and Tsukishiro-kun did I have such good business,” said the manager happily. “Chang-kun and Li-kun are going to be the next golden pair.” He cast a side glance at Sakura. “You’re doing all right, Sakura-chan. The customers seem to like you, heaven knows why, since you always botch the orders and have two left feet. Are you really related to Kinomoto Touya by blood?”

 

“Hoe.” Sakura hung her head. “I’ll try harder, Manager.”

 

He chuckled and handed her a white envelope. “Well, here’s your first paycheck.”

 

And Sakura gripped the envelope, beaming. “Thank you! I’ll continue to do my best!”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

At 7:15 AM in the morning, Li Meilin went in search for Kai in his apartment as usual to wake him up for school. Though the apartment layout was exactly the same as Syaoran’s, Kai had completely redone the interior; the wallpaper was a shimmery black and the furniture a sleek black and titanium combination. None of the décor was to her taste, for while Syaoran’s place was homey and decorated in warm colors, Kai’s place reminded Meilin of a sci-fi maze. The living room was plain with a large black leather couch and an 82 inch flat screen TV. The overhead lights in the apartment were controlled by remote control and the kitchen was done in sleek black tiles, with little sign of use. She entered through Kai’s bedroom door, stepping onto the lush leopard print rug. To her surprise, his queen-size bed with black satin sheets was rumpled and empty. “Where’s Kai?” she asked Perro-chan.

 

“Follow me! Follow me!” replied the bird. The parrot flew towards Kai’s walk-in closet and passed the wall partitioned into rows holding shiny-polished black leather shoes. Meilin found herself staring into a ceiling-high full-length mirror. Perro-chan with his beak pushed aside a row of black cloaks then expertly punched in some code into a security lock embedded into the wall. With a click, the mirror swiveled open, and Meilin entered.

 

Just when she thought nothing about Mizuki Kai could surprise her anymore, the scene unfolded before her made her gasp. “What is this? Kaitou Magician’s Batcave?” she murmured as she entered the hidden chamber that unveiled a CIA-inspired secret headquarters with three large flatscreen computer screens lined up in a row, and a larger projector screen above head on one end of the windowless room. Complex machinery with all sorts of dials and switches lined another wall, and she was afraid that she might bump into something. It was hard to believe that she was still within the same apartment complex in this strange futuristic chamber. She realized that the big black rotating chair in the center of the room was occupied. Legs crossed, Kai was bent over furiously typing something into the keyboard. Meilin glanced over to a black screen with green gridlines and red dots. Was he locating something?”

 

Kai was so deep in thought that he did not even bother to look up, though he must have heard her enter. He took out a map and fumbled for a pen. She picked up a red pen off the floor and handed to him. Without looking it up, he removed the pen cap with his teeth, and began scribbling something onto the map. Then, he glanced over to the computer screen on his far left. A series of binary codes flashed by. “Shoot,” he mumbled under his breath and quickly typed in a code into the keyboard. For a while, Meilin watched Kai frown, chewing on the end of his pen. He was half-dressed in the Seijou Uniform, hung around his black-tie untied and barefoot and his hair was mussed as if he had been clutching it. Finally, he sat up straight and then began typing away again. A new series of grids popped up on the middle screen. She didn’t make a sound, not wanting to interrupt, for it was rather awing to see this new side of Kai, the serious, hardworking side. Not Kaitou Magician or Tanaka Mikai but the Kai behind the walls, the mastermind Mizuki Kai. Quietly, she walked up to the huge bulletin board covering the other wall. She mustered a small smile. One end was plastered from top to bottom with articles on Kaitou Magician, new articles overlapping older ones. At times like this, there was no denying the shared blood between siblings. There was a very similar bulletin board in the Seijou Junior High journalism room―Miho was a very thorough researcher and collected news clippings in a similar fashion. But on this wall, there were floor plans and blueprints of dozens of the world’s most famous museums, including a very detailed one of the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum, and maps, maps of cities, maps of subway lines, maps of sewerages and government buildings. Kaitou Magician was not a flamboyant, showoff. There was no magic or chance; he planned every move down to the last detail beforehand. She frowned as she reached the far end of the wall with his assumedly newest project. There were articles covering the assassination of Yamamoto Noburu, former oyabun of the Yamamoto-gumi, lists of names that were unfamiliar to her but sounded awfully like yakuza names.

 

“Found it,” he exclaimed abruptly, sitting up from his chair.

 

Clearing her throat to let him know she was there, she asked, “Found what?”

 

“I’m a genius,” he stated, cracking his knuckles. “Wait till I get my hands on him.”

 

“Who?” she asked.

 

Kai nodded as he pointed to a sheet of paper on the wall. “That’s right. All good reporters find the five W’s, who, what, when, where and why.” He picked up a dart sitting next to his keyboard and flung it across the room at a large map of Tokyo. “And all good thieves must therefore thoroughly plan the how.” 

 

She glanced around the room. “Has this hidden room always been here?”

 

“Who let you in? Perro-chan? Useless bird.” He glared at his parrot as he headed through the mirror-door.

 

“Where are you going?” demanded Meilin. “What about school?”

 

“Follow me if you want to know,” replied Kai, grabbing a pair of designer shades as they passed through the walk-in closet. This time, curiosity got the better of her and she followed.  

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

The Tokyo Racecourse, the largest track in the country, was bustling with trainers and jockeys preparing for the upcoming Japan Cup. Each trainer made sure the horses were in tiptop condition and the jockeys sized down each other, getting a sense of the competition. Even after all these years, Tamemura Asuma felt a bit giddy as he always did before a big race. Ignoring the bustling of people running about the stables, he curried his horse in his stall until Thunderbolt’s coat gleamed a rich red-brown. It was a job for his apprentice, but Asuma liked the grooming process, the most intimate communication between rider and horse. Ever since he had lost Midnight Star two summers ago, he had been racing with Thunderbolt, so named because of a whitish zigzag marking his forehead, a beautiful red chestnut stallion who had brought him the Japanese Triple Crown title last year. Together, they rode on towards victory in the Melbourne Cup, Dubai World Cup and Prix de l’Arc Triomphe. Most faces in the stables were familiar―usually the cream of the crop made it to the Japan Cup, one of the biggest racing events in the world with the second highest prize money next to the Dubai Cup. Hence it attracted many strong competitors. He saddled Thunderbolt and walked him to the tracks to warm up and saw that a couple of his jockey friends were gathered about the tracks. Though fierce competitors on the tracks, outside of it, they were comrades. Asuma too gazed towards what the other jockeys seemed to be mesmerized by. Down from the opposite end came an unidentified rider galloping on a beautiful white Arabian with great speed and grace. His breath stopped short, as it always did when he saw an exceptionally beautiful horse with an exceptionally coordinated rider. 

 

Upon reaching the finish line, the rider swung off the Arabian and took off her helmet. Chin-length golden hair tumbled out. It was a woman. Female jockeys were still rare in Japan and his girlfriend Arima had been one of the rare female riders, not that it ever fazed her when she had been a junior league jockey.

 

Asuma walked up to the newcomer. “That’s a beautiful horse you’ve got there. A white Arabian?”

 

“Yes. He’s a beauty, isn’t he?” replied the girl stroking her stallion’s silvery mane. “Morning Star is his name.”

 

“Morning Star.” Asuma stared at the horse quizzically, wondering why he felt so familiar. “You must be new around here. I don’t recognize your face.” He had been racing long enough to recognize most jockeys and their horses and point out the newcomers.

 

“Yes. I’m filling in for our ace racer, who was injured during the Hong Kong Vase last month,” replied the girl.

 

Asuma looked up and saw the checkered dark green and gold logo on her silks over functional white cotton breeches and sturdy brown boots. Jockeys wore the colors of their owners. Thunderbolt’s owner was his father, Tamemura Akira, who had been a renowned jockey back in his days and now owned a joint venture racing track outside of Tokyo, and during races, he wore the sky blue and white of the Tamemura-Akagi Stables. “You’re with the Li Group?”

 

“Yeah. Our owner is Li Leiyun of the Li Horse Syndicate,” replied the girl with a curious smile.

 

“Li… Leiyun?” repeated Asuma.

 

“Do you know him?”

 

“I… knew someone by that name once.” Asuma trailed off. “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m―”

 

“I know who you are. Who doesn’t? You are the pride of Japan, Tamemura Asuma, the Triple Crown world champion.” Her lavender eyes twinkled.

 

“You flatter me,” said Asuma, shifting embarrasedly. “And what is your name?”

 

“I am honored someone as internationally renowned as you is showing interest in our rider. Her name is Kara Reed,” came a melodic male voice from behind them. A young man with blue eyes stepped out from the awning. “Our priced new jockey. Quite a find, actually. Isn’t she a natural?”

 

For a second, Asuma looked up at the man in pristine white before his eyes widened in disbelief. “Leiyun?” It was Leiyun, but it was not Leiyun. His hair, once a rich brown was now a beautiful, snowy white and his eyes, too seemed to have lost the sparkling turquoise luster and was a cold ice blue. Like someone who hadn’t seen sunlight in a long time. In contrast, Asuma’s skin was permanently tanned from always being outdoors, and the tips of his tan brown hair had been bleached golden by the sunlight. 

 

Li Leiyun looked up at him and smiled, his eyes reflecting the color of the sky. “Asuma. It’s been a long time.”

 

“What are you doing here? How―” Asuma was at loss for words.

 

“We first met in the stables in Hong Kong. You were riding on Uncle Fuma’s tracks. Isn’t it fitting that we meet again on the tracks?” said Leiyun.

 

“They told me you…died. All these years…” Asuma found his voice caught in his throat.

 

“It’s a long story, but I’m alive and doing well,” said Leiyun. “Either way, you’ve made quite a name for yourself. You said you would when we were children. You’ve made your dream come true.”

 

Asuma was not interested in talking about their childhood dreams. “If you were alive, why didn’t you contact me earlier?”

 

“I didn’t think an accomplished world champion like you would remember the likes of me,” said Leiyun with a thin smile.

 

“I still can’t believe it,” said Asuma, blinking hard. “You’re not a ghost, are you?”

 

Leiyun blinked. “We flung horse manure at my Uncle Daifu’s new Rolls Royce and rode off into the woods so that we wouldn’t get in trouble and got lost until Wei came to fetch us. We broke into your father’s liquor cabinet and downed his best maotai and vomited it all back up behind the stables in junior high. We dressed up Syaoran in girl’s clothes and submitted it to a toddler modeling contest and used the prize money to buy our first por―”

 

“Okay, okay, it really is you,” said Asuma. He stared hard at Leiyun. Yes, this was the Leiyun he knew, the model student and son who played pranks and caused mischief every moment he could as if to get vengeance for the fact he was born a Li.

 

“Goodness, I was an awful influence on you back in the days,” stated Leiyun with a genuine smile.

 

“It’s good to have you back, friend,” said Asuma, choked, hugging his friend. “Now, you have to tell me how have you been and what are you doing here… God, it’s good to see you, Lei.”

 

 

 

*******

 

 

 

There was never a quiet moment when dating an INTERPOL Most Wanted Criminal. Ever since the moment Meilin had met Kai, there was never any sort prediction where he might take her next. He kidnapped her in the springtime, collapsed into her bedroom after taking a bullet to the chest in the summer, took her racing on the back of his motorcycle in the fall and stole her heart in the wintertime. She couldn’t believe it had only been two years since she first met Kaitou Magician. Now, she couldn’t imagine a time when he had not been a part of her life. “Where are we going?” she screamed at the top of her lungs as they raced down the highway on the back of his gleaming black motorcycle.

 

“Fuchu!” He called out.

 

“Bless you,” she said, burying her head in his sky blue uniform blazer and tightening her grip around his hard waist. Her own school necktie flapped back into her face and her skirt flew out immodestly; she would have changed into gym pants had Kai the decency to tell her they were going so far away. 

 

“Fuchu―it’s where the Tokyo Racecourse is,” he said, bending low and switching lanes. Cars honked at him.

 

“Racecourse?” Meilin had learned it was impossible to figure out what he was up to till she actually witnessed the act, so she just clung on for dear life. “Didn’t you promise me you’ll take me back to school in time for first period?”

 

“First period for me is lunchtime,” called out Kai over the roar of the engine.

 

 

 

While the Li Group owned a reputable stable back in Hong Kong, Meilin had never been too interested in racing even though her cousin Leiyun used to take Syaoran and her down to the stables every once in a while. The empty Tokyo Racecourse was immense, probably able to seat 15,000 people, in her estimation.

 

“What are we doing here?” Meilin asked, as Kai walked past the grandstand towards the tracks. And then, Meilin saw where his gaze was focus on. A rider with golden hair, without a helmet, raced down the course on a beautiful white horse. It almost seemed like she was sailing. There were many spectators whose eyes were all fixed on her. As they drew nearer, she recognized her. Then she gasped. “Isn’t that Rido-senpai? Was she a jockey?”

 

Kai replied with a frown, clearly surprised himself, “Not that I was aware of.”

 

Her old irritation resurged. “Did you know she was going to be here? Is that why you came here?”

 

“This changes everything,” muttered Kai to himself.

 

Meilin overheard the conversation of a group of men by the stands.

 

“What’s the Li Group up to, entering a no-name candidate out of the blue?” growled a man in a black suit and sunglasses. “Boss, what are you going to do? Should we investigate?”

 

“She’s gorgeous,” said the tall man in a blue kimono, with a bamboo shinai strapped at his waist. A passerby bowed down deeply to the man in the blue kimono before scurrying away.

 

“Oyabun, that’s not the issue here. It’s suspicious. Why didn’t the Black Dragon warn us about the change in jockey and horse? It changes how we organize the lot on the day of the race,” said a second man in the black suit.

 

A third man bent over and whispered, “Oyabun, a suspicious guy in sunglasses is lurking around the tracks. Should we catch him?”

 

“Go ahead,” said the man in the blue kimono, attention focused on the beautiful blonde rider.

 

The two men jumped over the railings and cried out, “You, what are you doing around here? Who are you with?” Without giving them a chance to answer, they charged forward.

 

Out of instinct, Meilin leapt out and knocked both men over with a swift double roundhouse kick. Her skirt and pigtails flailed out behind her as she swept down in style, landing on her knee and declared, “Isn’t it basic courtesy to state who you are before attacking first!”

 

And Kai clapped from the sidelines, exclaiming, “That’s my Meilin-chan. Amazing! Marvelous!”

 

Their young boss finally looked down to see what the commotion was about and saw his men sprawled on the ground. “What are you two idiots doing?” He stared at Meilin and Kai.

 

Meilin blinked and tugged Kai’s arm. “Kai, isn’t that―”

 

A man in the blue kimono with hair a flaming orange tied back into a high ponytail, looked up at her. A couple weeks ago, Sakura and Kara Reed had been kidnapped by the second largest yakuza gang in Japan, the Minato-gumi, headed by a man called Minato Abe. Consequently, Meilin and the rest of the crew had been caught up in the middle of yakuza warfare between the Minato-gumi and the Yamamoto-gumi regarding the succession of the next mafia leader in Japan after the death of former boss, Yamamoto Noburu. Yamamoto-gumi had come out victorious with young Taoka Yoshinori as the new oyabun of the Yamamoto-gumi. Though Meilin had only caught glimpse of him before, he was recognizable anywhere. To her surprise, the orange-haired man strode towards them, squinting his slanted eyes. “Kai-aniki?”

 

“Kai-aniki?” repeated Meilin, blinking back and forth between the two.

 

“It is you. It’s Kai-aniki, isn’t it? I thought it might be you last time at the warehouse, but it was so hectic with the takeover of Minato-gumi and the succession ceremony.” Taoka Yoshinori peered at Mizuki Kai carefully. “You remember me, don’t you?”

 

“Taoka.” Kai looked around nervously. “It’d be a good idea if you don’t associate with good old commoners like me.”

 

“What’re you talking about?” The Orange Tiger slapped Kai on the back as if they were longtime friends. “Us on this side of the business need to stick together, y’know. I almost didn’t recognize you for a moment. Why are you wearing a school uniform? Disguise?” He chuckled. “Or are you just a very old student? Leon-oyaji was always harping on us about finishing school. As if he wasn’t a middle school dropout himself.”

 

Kai looked even more uncomfortable than before.

 

“And who is this pretty schoolgirl with the amazing kick?” Taoka eyed Meilin curiously. “Girlfriend? You still get around, don’t you Kai-aniki. I’m impressed.”

 

Kai shifted uncomfortably. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“I always thought you went for the glamorous older type,” continued the blabbermouth yakuza.

 

“Shut up, Taoka,” said Kai in a dangerously low tone.

 

“So what’s your special technique getting the girls? I took Leon-oyaji’s advise―remember how he used to say it’s all in the hair?” Taoka swung his bright orange-dyed mane and sighed. 


With an ironic smile, Kai said, “That geezer was too vain for his own good.”

 

“I miss the old man.” Taoka Yoshinori looked genuinely remorseful. “He was a good sort. Always barking without the bite. He liked giving us youngsters a hard time but he was always looking out for us.”

 

“Yeah.” Kai looked up at Taoka. “He was.”

 

Taoka asked, “Still going around as Kaitou Magician? Rumor around the block is that you got caught by INTERPOL or something.”

 

“Fat chance.”

 

“I bet Leon-oyaji will roar out in laughter if he hears that I’ve become oyabun of Yamamoto-gumi. He used to always call me a brainless bumbling fool and swear at me in English. Well, he always called you a pathetic, weaseling pretty-boy. And look at you. You’ve become an international celebrity.” Taoka paused, eying Mizuki Kai. “Should you be out in the open daylight like this? Isn’t the Tokyo Metropolitan Police still after you?”

 

“Same goes to you,” said Kai. “At least they don’t know my real face or identity.”

 

Taoka shrugged. “My former master came to a deal with the police. They’re not going to give us real trouble. Let me know if you’re ever in a pinch. I can at least get you out of life-sentence if you’re ever caught.”

 

“It’s all right, I’m retired from the business,” said Mizuki Kai.

 

“That’s a pity. You’re the best thief I’ve ever met. Even better than Leon-oyaji,” Taoka said. “Well, you’ve always been smart, so I guess you know what you’re doing.” 

 

Kai frowned. “By the way, why the heck did you let go of Minato Abe?”

 

The yakuza boss looked into Kai’s eyes. “It was my first decision as head of the yakuza. I could punish him and show everyone that my rule would be ironfisted and people would fear me. Or I could pardon him and show that I will be fair and willing to give second chances. And people might look down on me. Or they might see me as someone who will see justice done.”

 

“I swear, you were born in the wrong generation. What kind of yakuza goes by a feudal samurai code of honor?” Kai sighed. “How did someone as thickheaded as you get picked as you get picked as the head of the Yamamoto-gumi?”

 

“I don’t know. Because of my dashing looks?” said Taoka, hands on his chin, before laughing out loud.

 

Kai could see Taoka’s boastful nature hadn’t changed at all. “You should keep an eye on Minato Abe. He’s up to no good.”

 

“I know. I’m waiting for an excuse to banish him from the Kanto area all together,” said Taoka, orange eyes wickedly gleaming. “I couldn’t risk alienating Minato-gumi under him by punishing him for rising up against the Yamamoto-gumi last time. But if I catch him in unauthorized embezzlement or manipulation of the Japan Cup betting levy, then that will give me ample ground to eliminate him. Right now, I don’t know which of my men I can trust, which clans will honor their alliance with the Yamamoto-gumi, which ones will secretly turn on me behind my back. I need to establish myself before corner my enemies. For that, I need to be observant and vigilant.”

 

Those had been Leon Reed’s words. Be observant and vigilant when you are in enemy terrain. Kai realized that Taoka was a much more able boss than he had anticipated. A different sort than Jinyu, all together. But perhaps, he’d make it. “That rider on the white horse. She’s Kara Reed.”

 

“Not the Kara that Leon-oyaji would never stop talking about?” Taoka Yoshinori’s eyes widened. He whistled. “I see the resemblance.” 

 

“You better keep an eye on her.” Kai paused. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t trust Li Jinyu or any of the Li’s too much.”

 

Taoka grinned. “Jinyu-aniki is awesome, isn’t he?” He shot a look at Meilin. “You know, nee-san, you look remarkably like the Black Dragon, now that I think of it, and something about your kick reminds me of the Hong Kong triads’ style. Are you mafia as well?”

 

Meilin scowled and was about to voice her outrage when a man in a black suit interrupted. “Oyabun, the car is ready. We’ve got to get going.”

 

“See you around, Kai-aniki, Mafia-nee-chan.” said Taoka Yoshinori, seventh oyabun of the Yamamoto-gumi, newly appointed leader of the Japanese Yakuza. His underlings followed him, sending glares of awe at Meilin. 

 

After the flashy orange-haired yakuza boss left, Meilin raised an eyebrow. “Kai-aniki?”

 

“What, so I pretended I was a bit older back in the days,” mumbled Kai.

 

“He’s a head taller than you. Isn’t that guy in his mid-twenties?”

 

“He should be around Sakura’s brother’s age,” said Kai. “I think. We all lie about our ages in this business.”

 

“And I guess he hasn’t heard Jinyu’s real age either?”

 

“Well, Jinyu looks old,” replied Kai.

 

Stifling a giggle, Meilin asked, “Doesn’t he know that Jinyu’s claim to fame is being the youngest Dragon King of the Hong Kong triads?”

 

“Perhaps he thinks Li Jinyu became the boss at age 18 ten years ago.” Knowing Taoka, he probably did. “All he knows is how to fight. That’s probably why the Hong Kong triads supported him becoming the oyabun―he’s not the scheming complex type. But I won’t be surprised if sheer brawn and determination carries him far. Being yakuza isn’t easy if you get carried too much along into the politics of things. He’s the type to take no nonsense and go by gut instinct.”

 

“You seem to know him very well.”

 

“Vagrants and runaways and those on the other side of law. We end up bonding because we have no one else.” Kai paused. “Leon-san was a reputable thief―it was natural for him to have many ties to the yakuza world. The old boss of the Yamamoto-gumi, Yamamoto Noboru, was somewhat of a philanthropist. When Leon-san was a young boy who had just arrived in Tokyo, Yamomoto Noboru helped him out quite a bit. Of course, Leon-san has returned the favor many times over. Yamamoto Noboru also took in Taoka who was an orphan and raised him to be second-in-command. But Taoka was a rebellious sort, and whenever he ran away from the training, Leon-san kept an eye on him.”

 

Somehow, this boy in the high school uniform standing beside her once lead a lifestyle that she could not picture. “You made the mafia sound really scary when you spoke to Miho-chan last time,” said Meilin wryly. “When they’re all your buddies.”

 

“Don’t get me wrong,” said Kai, turning to look at Meilin. “They are dangerous and bad people. They will kill those who get in their way and cheat those who they want to cheat. Taoka’s mafia. In his lifetime, he will do evil deeds. It’s their way of living. But, that doesn’t necessarily make him an evil person. Leon-san was what you would call an honorable thief. He stole from only those who are rich and fraudulent, cowardly thieves as we call them. He was generous to the poor and needy. I also never stole from anyone who couldn’t afford to be stolen from. But I never disillusioned myself into saying that it was okay to steal, envisioning Kaitou Magician as some sort of modern Robin Hood. What I did was a crime, and I was ready to serve time if I was caught. If I was shot, it was justice served because I was a criminal. But I wasn’t. Maybe you would think me crazy, but I got an adrenalin high from that risk. It’s why people are ready to gamble. Only if there is something high at stake is the win even more thrilling. If you want to take a gamble, then you’ve got to be willing to make sacrifices should you lose. All in or all out.”

 

Meilin looked up at Kai, hands folded across her chest. “I think you forget who I am. I trained in martial arts. Fighting is my hobby, for heaven’s sake. Give me some credit here. It’s not like I completely don’t understand.” 

 

“I know, you’re the crazier one dating someone like me.” Kai grinned, leaning over and watching the wild stallions stampeded down the tracks, racing against each other.

 

“Who else would have the patience to tame a crazy colt like you?” said Meilin, her black hair whipping back as the horses galloped past. It was true. Choosing to be with Kai was the biggest gamble she had ever taken in her life. Every minute was like balancing on one foot at the edge of a cliff. And even at the risk of falling off, she continued balancing, because it was more fun than standing at the base of the mountain, looking up, wondering what was up at the peak.

 

The corner of his eyes crinkled. “Well, let’s get going if we want to get back for last period.”

 

“Did you find who you were looking for?” she asked―she had yet to figure out what Kai’s purpose in coming here was.

 

“Better.” Kai stared at the racecourse grimly. “I found the why, where, what and when.”

 

Perplexed, Meilin asked, “You’re not planning on stealing something again, are you?”

 

“No, silly. If I was planning on stealing, I wouldn’t be wearing my school uniform,” said Kai.

 

He had a point.

 

“Swindlers, blackmailers, gamblers and extorters are all some sort of thieves. What better to stop a thief than the supreme King of Thieves,” replied Kai.

 

“Lofty title you give yourself,” Meilin said, squinting at Kai’s handsome sunlit face.

 

“And you are my Queen of Justice,” said Kai, bending over and planting a kiss on the tip of her fingers. 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Saturday evenings were always the busiest nights at the restaurant, and via word-of-mouth, rumors rapidly spread that La Seine had the best-looking waiters, hence reservations were completely booked out.

 

“Oh dear,” muttered Chang Eron, hurriedly returning into the restaurant kitchen.

 

“What’s wrong, Eron-kun?” Sakura asked, straightening her black skirt.

 

“I think I just saw a group of our classmates walk into the restroom,” he replied, quite pallid.

 

“Great,” mumbled Syaoran―they had dealt with a group of giggling Seijou seniors just the previous evening. “Just hope they don’t sit in my assigned tables.”

 

To his greatest chagrin, Eron was assigned the table of five. Fellow classmates Tomoyo, Kai, Meilin and Eriol, plus Miho found it hilarious that Sakura, Syaoran and Eron were working together and had made a group reservation. “My treat,” stated Eriol with an evil chuckle.

 

“Oh my gosh, Eron-senpai is actually working here!” squealed Miho. It was the first time seeing her brother since he had left house. She was dressed in a no-nonsense navy blouse and gray wool jumper and eyed Kai in a shiny black suit with a sheer black shirt underneath, silver hoops and crosses dangling from his earlobes. “Did you forget to wear a shirt?” she demanded.

 

Meilin giggled―she had the same conversation with Kai before leaving their apartment.

 

Unfazed, Kai replied, “I heard you missed me, sister dear? I need to finish up some business and I’ll be back home in not time.”

 

“Like I’ve missed you.” Miho scowled. “It’s so nice and quiet at home without you―don’t bother coming back at all!”

 

Tomoyo expertly diverted the conversation, holding up her camcorder and exclaiming, “Sakura-chan looks adorable in black and white!” She silently thought the uniform would look even cuter with cat ears.

 

If Kai was hurt, he disguised it by stating, “Well, so when do we get to see Syao-kun in a waiter’s uniform? So, who wants to be the annoying customer who drops a fork every five minutes?”

 

“Syaoran!” Meilin called out halfway across the restaurant as Syaoran emerged with a tray of dishes. “You look so handsome as a waiter! Just like my favorite penguin doll.” She quickly snapped with her cellphone camera blackmail photos that she was going to send to Syaoran’s sisters. Their table was drawing many glances from the other diners in the restaurant. 

 

“Maybe I should work here too. I look most magnificent in a bowtie,” stated Kai loudly.

 

Meilin raised an eyebrow. “Can you really work at an hourly wage of 800 yen?” She knew for a fact that Kai had been selling computer software to some US company for some crazy sum of dollars that she could barely count the zeros in for some years―that was his main source of income, not stealing jewels. In fact, sometimes she wondered why he bothered to come to school when he could make a living off of programming.

 

To everyone surprise, Miho spoke up. “Onii-chan used to work at the convenience store for minimum wage back when our family went bankrupt. He lied about his age and he worked multiple jobs to support Mother and me. He used to bring back the leftover bento from the store to eat for dinner. I used to think it was the most delicious thing ever. Well, I guess anything’s better than my mom’s nonexistent cooking skills.”

 

Somehow, none of them could picture the flamboyant Mizuki Kai working at a convenience store, and Kai changed the subject. “Well, I guess we should start off with ordering drinks.” He waved his hand. “Waiter!”

 

“Yes?” Eron said crossly, arms akimbo.

 

“I want to order a glass of Dom Perignon and club soda with a slice of lime on the side on the rocks,” stated Kai.

 

“May I see your ID please?” said Eron with a pleasant smile. “That’ll be club soda for you.”

 

Kai frowned and Meilin stated, “I want to order melon cream soda!” Tomoyo, Eriol and Miho all chimed in their orders, changing their minds every five seconds.

 

“Aren’t you going to write it down?” asked Tomoyo kindly. “It’s a lot to remember.”

 

With a deep frown, Eron recited off glibly, “That will be club soda with a slice of lime on the side on the rocks, melon cream soda without the melon and ice water on the side, royal milk tea with exactly one cube of ice, triple decaf espresso with two cubes of sugar and 2% skim milk, heated, and freshly squeezed orange juice without the pulp.”

 

“Maybe I want lemonade after all,” stated Miho for the fifth time.

 

“How about I bring you both orange juice and lemonade?” Eron said with a tight smile.

 

“Oh, I didn’t see the option for fresh pineapple juice!” exclaimed Miho. “I’ll change that to pineapple juice.”

 

Before Miho could change her mind again Eron walked off to put in the order, fuming. And this was just the drinks―they haven’t even gotten to the main course yet. Sakura felt sorry for Eron because even though they were her friends, she knew that specific group seated at Eriol’s table could be very relentless if they wanted to be.    

 

“Waiter, I dropped my fork. I need another one,” said Miho to Eron when he came back with the main courses some time later―it had taken the table at least fifteen minutes to order, and Eron was at his patience’s end. He obliged and slammed a fork down on the table.

 

Kai grinned. “Can I get some more butter for the bread?”

 

“I’d like some more water,” said Meilin.

 

“Another order of the sautéed spinach please, they’re delectable,” Eriol added.

 

“Where is Sakura-chan?” lamented Tomoyo, searching around for Sakura in her cute white apron over black skirt.

 

Eron stormed back into the kitchen and slammed his tray into Syaoran’s chest. “You take over that table. I refuse to serve them.”

 

Syaoran blinked. “I have my hands full over here. That’s your table.” If he had been any less polite, he might have gloated, “Sucks to be you.”

 

Sensing the sparks that were sizzling, Sakura intervened between the hot-blooded twosome. “Hoe! I’ll do it!” She wiped the blob of tomato sauce on Eron’s sleeve with the tip of her apron. “Poor Eron-kun. You look absolutely haggard. Go take a break.”

 

Eron gazed at his reflection off the back of a spoon. “I think I just aged ten years tonight.”

 

Sakura chuckled and with her laden tray, hurried out to her friends’ table. “Spinach for Eriol-kun. Butter for Kai-kun.” She refilled everyone’s glasses with ice water and Tomoyo videotaped in delight.

 

Hiding in the kitchen, Eron clapped his hands together when Sakura returned. “Wow, you’re really good at this. I’m impressed. I thought you were a hopelessly clueless dunce.”

 

“Thank you,” said Sakura. She could never tell if Eron’s compliments were actually insults or not. 

 

“It’s almost worth working in this smelly place to see how cute you look in your uniform,” stated Eron.

 

Sakura blushed to the tip of her ears.

 

“If you’re going to sit around, go mop the floor,” said Syaoran, thrusting the mop at Eron. “Someone spilled coke and its starting to get sticky.”

 

“I refuse,” stated Eron.

 

Syaoran gaped at him, and the fellow waiters could swear he could see electric beams sparking from the boy’s eyes. Controlling his temper, Syaoran said, “As you can see, it’s full house tonight. Why don’t you go out and serve the other tables then, since you got Sakura to take over your table.”

 

“Why should I slave away when my popularity is undeniable,” said Eron with a careless shrug. He casually reached into his pocket and took out a wad of cash. “Look at all the tip left by the customers.”

 

The other waiters ogled the cash.

 

“Well, someone left me a 10000 yen tip,” stated Syaoran, pulling out the note from his apron pocket as evidence.

 

“Hoe!” said Sakura, staring between the wads of cash held up by Eron and Syaoran, more than she had seen at one time. “I never received any tip.”

 

“Charity-case,” muttered Eron under his breath as he shoved past Syaoran with a superior smile.

 

“Conceited rattail,” retorted Syaoran, glaring at the back of Eron’s head, with his hair that slinked around like the tail of a rat tied in a black ribbon.

 

 

 

“Oh, why is it so delightful to watch Syaoran-kun getting jealous?” sighed Kai, wolfing down his apple pie as he watched Eron and Syaoran enter the dining area, shoving each other. Sakura followed behind them looking very apologetic to all the diners around them.

 

Sipping on her third glass of cream soda, Meilin remarked extra loudly because Syaoran was waiting on the table next to theirs, “Strange, isn’t it; Sakura-chan looks more like she’s going out with Eron-kun now than when they were actually dating.”

 

“Before, Eron-senpai was trying too hard. They both were. Now they’re natural with each other and that took away the artificial aspect of their relationship,” shrewd Miho stated, scooping up her orange meringue but dropping it on the tablecloth. She snickered, “Syaoran-senpai has had a dark cloud over his head all evening long.”

 

Tomoyo held up her video camera in rapture. “Truthfully, I’ve been hoping for a Syaoran versus Eron Showdown Part Deux.”

 

“I thought you’re a Syaoran-senpai shipper?” remarked Miho.

 

“I am. And there’s nothing as fun to watch as Syaoran-kun getting jealous,” replied Tomoyo, eyes twinkling. “He hasn’t displayed this much jealousy since Eriol-kun transferred to our school in fifth grade.”

 

“Ah, those were the days,” said Eriol with a distant look in his eyes. “Adorable Syaoran with a red face racing off into the other direction, stammering, stumbling, making a fool out of himself.”

 

“He used to be such a cute boy,” sighed Tomoyo.

 

“So gullible and innocent,” added Eriol. They clinked their glasses of nonalcoholic champagne together. 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

It took about a week for Chang Eron to grow bored with the job. Tossing the mop to the floor and taking a seat, legs crossed, he demanded, “Disgusting! Why do I have to do something so degrading like serving all those egotistical gluttons and cleaning up this pigsty?”

 

“Why did you even take this job?” demanded Syaoran in frustration, picking up the mop and setting straight the dishes that Eron knocked over. Syaoran normally had not patience for slackers, and because it was Eron in question, he was all the more irritated.

 

“To see what the big deal was,” replied Eron. “I’m obviously not cut out for this life.”

 

“Then quit!” Syaoran had just about enough of Eron’s consistent whining and snide remarks.

 

“And leave you and Sakura alone?”

 

“We’re working, not playing. Besides, you’re the one who broke up with her.”

 

“Indeed.” Eron had a lazy smile as if he found Syaoran amusing.

 

“Then why should you still care that I am working with her? I can assure it’s not by choice.”

 

“Why should I not care?” replied Eron. “It’s what I do.”

 

“You’re not her boyfriend. What she does isn’t your business.”

 

“It’s not your business either,” pointed out Eron.

 

Syaoran paused, since Eron had a point. “If you were going to quit after a week, why did you even start working here?

 

“I didn’t know it would be so bothersome.”

 

“You don’t have much drive for anything, do you?” Syaoran said. His brows twitched in annoyance―Chang Eron exemplified all the principles he absolutely despised. “It’s been bothering me for some time. You always seem to follow what ever I do, and frankly, it’s annoying. Is there anything that you personally enjoy?” Soccer, violin, journalism, the school musical―Eron always seemed to jump at any chance to compete with him, and Syaoran had enough of Chang Eron.


“You’re right, I have a short attention span,” Eron replied with a careless shrug. “Everything you did, I felt no need to follow through once I proved that I could do it too.”

 

“Is that why you dated Sakura?” asked Syaoran through gritted teeth. “To prove a point to me?”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

Syaoran’s voice was now a dangerously low growl. “Then why did you break up with her?”

 

“Once I took her away from you, I got bored. Simple as that. You think I actually loved her or something silly as that?” Eron laughed shortly.

 

Syaoran lunged at him, knocking aside a pile of stacked dishes which came crashing down the floor with a clatter. “To think that I entrusted her in your hands. I’m the imbecile, I suppose.”

 

Pinned against the table, Eron stared up at Syaoran, feeling the grip on his collar tighten. Only lately had he begun to surmise how much Syaoran had been holding back all these months. In terms of powers, Eron knew he could crush Syaoran easily. Yet he wouldn’t. He wanted Syaoran to destroy himself on his own. Syaoran was like a wild beast unleashed. If Syaoran could learn to tame that beast within him, he will one day become invulnerable. If he lost to that beast, then he would be reduced to a savage, soulless killing-machine. “Why aren’t you hitting me?”

 

“I’m not going to hit you,” said Syaoran releasing him. “You’re not worth my fist.” 

 

“Coward” he hissed. “I realized that the best way to destroy you is to let you do so by yourself. I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of proving to Sakura that she was wrong about me. If you disgrace yourself in her eyes, it would be your own doing, not mine. If she scorns you and rejects you, it’s because of your own shortcomings. I don’t have to date her to influence her. I am satisfied that I have already left my imprint on her. She will never return to return to being your Sakura.”

 

“What are you saying?” asked Syaoran, hands shaking as he stared at Eron’s calm face.

 

“She may not be mine. But Sakura will never be yours, either. I’m content with that.”

 

“She is her own, not for someone to possess,” said Syaoran.

 

“Isn’t love about possession?” Eron said. “Marriage. It’s a contract of possession of another being. Rings, little trinkets, they’re a statement of possession over another person.”

 

“Is that truly what all this was about to you?” Syaoran stared at Eron.

 

“Why don’t you tell her? I gave up my life for you, so you belong to me.” Eron smirked. “Or are you afraid that will make her feel obligated to you? Or are you just too much of a gentleman to use that power over her?”

 

“Don’t you dare ever mention that to her,” Syaoran said in a low, rumbling voice.

 

Eron laughed out loud. “God, don’t tell me you still haven’t realized? Don’t you know the reason―”

 

The two were interrupted by footsteps. “What are you two doing here?”

 

Syaoran staggered back as he glanced up. “Manager!”

 

The manager gaped at the shattered plates and hollered, “What happened in here, Li-kun, Chang-kun? The broken dishes will be docked from both your wages!”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

For the past several days, Sakura had been tailing Syaoran, looking for a chance opportunity to look through his belongings. Sakura’s eyes flitted over to the men’s locker room in the back of the restaurant. It was empty at the moment. She walked over to Syaoran’s locker. Looking back to see if anybody was around, she took out his uniform blazer and checked both pockets. Her fingers brushed against something, definitely not the necklace. She drew it out. It was a frayed green ribbon.

 

“What are you doing skulking around like some pervert?” asked Eron with a smile. He had crept up right next to her and was poking his nose into Syaoran’s book bag.

 

“Gah! Don’t scare me like that, Eron-kun.” Sakura sighed in relief that it was not Syaoran and stuffed the blazer back into the locker.

 

Eron snorted. “I’m not the one creeping around the men’s locker room.”

 

“Shhh… keep your voice down,” Sakura said, dragging Eron down with her as somebody walked by outside.

 

“Why don’t you tell him what you told me?” He mimicked her mockingly. “‘Because they are still my precious memories.’”

 

Sakura glared at him, partly aggravated that he so clearly figured out what she was looking for. How had he even known?

 

“Is there something wrong with me when I think you look prettiest when you are glaring at me like that?” said Eron.


“Don’t tease.” She had finally learned to get used to Eron’s style of joking―compliments verging insults and a strange morbidity that was his idea of dark humor. Sakura snatched away Syaoran’s gym bag from Eron and slammed it into the locker.

 

“He carries it on him all the time. Unless you’re wishing to grope his rear end, since he keeps it in his left back pocket, then I doubt you’re going to retrieve it. You can always walk in on him while showering if you’re up for it.”

 

“How do you know where he keeps it?” Sakura demanded.

 

His lips curled into a thin smile. “Even broken, that stone emanates all sorts of old powers.”

 

“I didn’t notice,” said Sakura.

 

“It’s probably harder for you to sense it because it’s sort of like an extension of you, having borne it for over two years,” remarked Eron. “It’s like you can’t smell your own body odor because it’s a part of you.”

 

At this, Sakura almost laughed. “You and your smelling analogies.” Eron had once made an uncomfortable remark about how she and Syaoran smelled similar which had puzzled her.

 

“Syaoran’s hair smells of strawberries and cream today,” remarked Eron. “Your house must have changed shampoos recently.”

 

“You know, that’s remarkably creepy?” said Sakura.

 

“Why?” Eron leaned over and caught the end of her hair. “His hair smells like your hair because you two use the same shampoo. I like sniffing it in the boys’ locker room during soccer practice. It’s the only thing that smells good.”

 

Sakura raised an eyebrow. “You realize you just shattered the aristocratic image you had built up for yourself over the past two and a half years overnight?”

 

“Well, don’t go around telling anybody that I go around sniffing Syao-kun’s head else they think I’m a part of the Syao-chan vs. Eriol-kun vs. Kai-kun love triangle.”

 

At this, Sakura laughed out loud. Eron’s golden eyes twinkled.

 

“What are you two doing in the locker room together?” demanded Syaoran from the doorway, arms akimbo.

 

“What do you think we’re doing?” asked Eron still holding the tips of Sakura’s hair. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

 

“Eron-kun!” exclaimed Sakura, flushing a deep pink.

 

Adding fuel to fire, Eron whispered under his breath so that only Sakura could hear it, “Sniffing Syaoran-sama’s precious sweat-soaked gym shirt.”

 

She couldn’t help it. She giggled.

 

Syaoran grew more aggravated by the minute at the sight of Chang Eron and Sakura crouched in the corner of some dark locker room, laughing about some inside joke that he wasn’t a part of. In front of his locker. He turned around and stomped off noisily, upsetting the manager who had been balancing a tray of cleanly polished stemware who called out after him, “Watch it, Li! Do you want to pay for these also?”

 

 

 

As strange as it sounded, Sakura was closer to Eron now that she was no longer going out with him than ever when she was his girlfriend. Now that they were no longer dating, he no longer tried to flatter her nor cater to her whims; he returned to his caustic, disdainful airs. Except, she used to think he was conceited and egotistical but she came to appreciate that he possessed a dry sense of humor and knew how to laugh at himself. She had sometimes thought it when they had volunteered at the hospital but there was something very dependable about Eron. He was consistent in his inconsistency. Though he complained, he adamantly completed all his given tasks. At school, he was always in the top five, never breaking the pattern over the span of two and a half years except when he was out sick last spring. Today, he insisted on walking her home because Syaoran was stuck with kitchen prep per request of Chef Nobuhiro. They walked along the barren cherry blossom lane. When they had been dating, Sakura had always been nervous being alone with him and filled the silence with senseless chatter, probably boring him to tears. She realized that sometimes, he too liked to just walk in silence and watch his surroundings, that she didn’t have to try so hard because Eron knew when she was nervous and when she felt uncomfortable.

 

“Eron-kun, what happened with you and Li-kun the other day? The manager was furious the whole day,” said Sakura. A month ago, it was something she wouldn’t have been comfortable asking him.

 

“We were discussing you,” said Eron quite frankly.

 

“Me?”

 

“It seems he’s angry I broke up with you. Ironic, isn’t it? He’s the one who gave his blessings in the first place, you know. He told me to make you happy.” Eron paused. “But were you happy with me?”

 

Sakura blinked slowly. Syaoran had said something like that to Eron? Why? “Of course I was.”


“I see.” The tree branches swayed as a gust of wind blasted from the west. Eron didn’t seem to feel the cold, but Sakura drew her coat closer around her chest. “Hey, Sakura, did you know my favorite flowers are cherry blossoms?”

 

“I thought they were roses.”

 

“Roses are common. They are thorny and vain flowers.” He turned to her, wisps of hair fanning out behind him like the trails of a brush dipped in violet. “The cherry blossoms bloom for only one week of the year. The sun, the wind, the rain all jealousy shorten the blossoms’ already short lifespan. Perhaps the brevity of its lifespan makes it all the more beautiful.”

 

“Perhaps,” conceded Sakura. She always felt a little sad when the pink petals carpeted the roads, as lovely as they were, because the branches looked bare and lonely without its billowing rose-hued brilliance.

 

“Do you know when cherry blossoms are most beautiful?” asked Eron, staring up the starry sky. “Yozakura, the night sakura. The Japanese enjoy watching the cherry blossoms in the nighttime because in the night, illuminated by the still moonlight, it reaches the peak of its beauty. The moon does not scorch like the sun nor drench like the rain nor blow away the cherry blossoms like the wind. It just shines quietly from the distance, and lets the sakura blossoms bloom to its fullest.”

 

Two years ago, if somebody told her she would be walking down this road, appreciating the beauty of cherry blossoms with Chang Eron, she would have laughed. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the cherry blossoms covering the bare branches along the road, glowing fairy-pink under the pale moonlight. “I think you are right,” she said.

 

He remarked, “You promised me to take me to the hanami festival this year because I missed it last year.”

 

“We can still go,” said Sakura. “Last year’s cherry blossom season was over before it began. I’m sure this year would be even more beautiful to make up for it.”

 

“You’ve got to learn how to keep from making promises you don’t mean to keep,” said Eron with a twinge of sarcasm in his voice as if to remind her that they had broken up.

 

“I’m going to keep my promise. We’ll go to the hanami together this year,” Sakura said. “With Tomoyo-chan, Meilin-chan, Kai-kun, Miho-chan and everybody. It would be a lot of fun. Tomoyo-chan’s mother’s company has developed a new portable karaoke mike. I’ll sing a song for you. You’re going to have to sing too.”

 

Eron stopped suddenly, standing in front of a lamppost, his eyes like golden half-moons in the dark. He didn’t bother asking her if everybody included Li Syaoran. “Sakura, if I asked for another shot, will you go out with me again? If I told you I will keep my promise and be patient and always love you, will you give me another chance?”

 

Sakura’s cheeks were flushed and she stammered for words. “Well… I…” She paused coming to a realization. “Don’t joke around with me like that.”

 

He looked at her wistfully. “I liked you, Sakura, because you were an honest, well-meaning person. I never meant to change that.”

 

“What do you mean?” asked Sakura, her throat tightening as she sensed he had not been joking after all.

 

His voice had become low and quiet. “With me, you become dishonest. You’ve learned to lie and deceive others and yourself. You no longer radiate that light which drew me to you in the first place. It’s like my darkness has overwhelmed you.”

 

“No, that’s not true,” Sakura stated, shaking her head.

 

“It is,” Eron stated with a note of resentment. “Don’t you get it? I took advantage of you when you were most vulnerable. I made you go out with me when you had lost your memory of Li Syaoran. I knew it was unfair to you, but I did it anyway.”

 

“No you didn’t, Eron-kun. I went out with you because I wanted to. When you asked me, I was truly happy.”

 

“But that doesn’t change the fact, would you have gone out with me had you retained your memories of him?”

 

“Eron-kun, did you set the Memory on me?” Sakura asked in a steady voice.

 

“Oddly enough, no.” He ruminated for a second. “I probably would have, were I given the opportunity, if the dark forces were still under my regime.”

 

“See, I chose to forget him. Likewise, you didn’t force me to date you. I chose you as my boyfriend because I wanted to get to know you better.”

 

“I lied to you. I was jealous of him. I was afraid he was going to take you away.” His eyes were averted. “At the autumn school trip, at the cliff side, it wasn’t me who saved.”

 

“I knew that already,” Sakura said with a small smile. “But were you not the one who carried me back to the cabin and stayed with me till I woke up again?”

 

“And in the Fantasy, he was the one who went to bring you back from Memoria.” Eron frowned. “I was too much of a coward to enter in myself, knowing I might not be able to come out again.”

 

“I heard from Tomoyo. You were the one who went to find him. You asked him to save me,” Sakura said. 

 

A deep frown creased his forehead. “Stop it. Stop trying to excuse me. There are many more things I am not telling you, because if I do, I’m afraid that you might truly come to scorn me. I can go on―The Plague―Syaoran having to leave in the first place, it’s all my fault. It’s me who sabotaged your relationship with him. If it weren’t for me, that person might be where I am standing right now.” He broke off. “Go on, say it. Say that you abhor me. That I disappointed you.”

 

Sakura blinked up at Eron. “If you are trying to make me hate you, I won’t. You are an important person to me, so I will always care for you, now and in the future too.”

 

He signed in relent. As he expected, she was unyielding. “Which is one thing that still puzzles me. Why did you agree to date me in the first place? I was completely expecting you to say no. At that point, you didn’t particularly trust me or even, I daresay, like me particularly much.”

 

“I do trust you and care for you,” said Sakura.

 

“Oddly enough, I do believe that now,” said Eron. “Sometimes, I regret not setting myself a longer time span. Lucky for you, I’m not that patient.”

 

Sakura smiled. “Well, I’m glad I am enough for the both of us. I like having Eron-kun around.”

 

Now, he was genuinely puzzled. “Why do you trust me?”

 

“Because Eron-kun, you were always by my side,” she replied. “If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I would be walking and smiling and laughing like I am today, ever since Subaru-chan passed away.”

 

“He died because of me,” said Eron, a dark look washing over his face. “Because I was not strong enough to hold back the Plague.”

 

Sakura shook her head. “He was dying from cancer long before the Plague came along. There was nothing we could do. I have inherited my mother’s second sight and saw the mark of death on him for a long time and I continued to deny that. It took me a long time to come to terms with that, but it was thanks to you that I did.”

 

“I should have been the one that died with the Plague,” murmured Eron moribund, saying out loud the thought that had haunted him over the past year. 

 

She said gently, “You too were a victim of the Plague, and you almost died trying to fight it. And I am so glad that you are alive.”

 

And a morose yet calm look came over his face. What ever ill thoughts he had been having seeped away like the morning dew evaporating into the sky at daybreak. “Why do you―why did it have to be you?” For the first time since he was a child, he felt something clench his throat. It was difficult to speak and his voice came out uneven. “Your open heart and kindness, your sincerity and innocence is what drew me to you. When I am with you, I get a sense that even someone as wretched as I could seek salvation.”

 

“Eron-kun…” Sakura felt a change had come over him, an inner glow which she had never sensed before, a blazing brightness that must be his aura.

 

“Hence, I was so afraid that I would taint you, that I would be the one to rob you of your wings. And I was right. I do not like the person you become when you are with me.” Eron looked her straight in the eye as if he had nothing to hide from her anymore. “That is the real reason I broke up with you. Because I want you to fly free to the person that will make you truly shine.”

 

The smile that she rewarded him filled him with the same, iridescent warmth you feel when you open your eyes and find the bluest sky peeping through a shower of sakura petals. She said, “Thank you, Eron-kun.”

 

“Why… are you thanking me?” said Eron in a choked voice.

 

“Because I just felt like thanking you. For being you.” Sakura looked up at him with her evergreen eyes. “Do you know, Eron-kun, I always found it odd that you called yourself a ‘Dark One.’ ”

 

Eron blinked.

 

“You didn’t realize?” asked Sakura, pulling him out of the shadows into the starlit path. “Your power, the power you gained on your own, it’s not the power of darkness anymore. It’s the power of light, a brighter light than anyone around you.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Chang Erika found it ridiculously humorous that her self-obsessed twin had found part-time employment and made no efforts to conceal her amusement. “This is delicious,” she said, tasting the baumkuchen that Eron had packed from the restaurant. “Syaoran really is a good cook.”

 

“Ow, my back hurts,” groaned Eron, cracking his neck.

 

“I still don’t understand why you would take on such a demeaning job,” remarked Erika, leaning back on the sofa with her cake plate.

 

“You reek, Eron,” chimed in a third voice.

 

“My hair smells like scallion,” lamented Eron, sniffing the ends of his ponytail. “And some dunce had the nerve to spill orange juice on my Italian Vero Cuoio shoes today.” 

 

Erika rolled her eyes. As if his shoes were the issue. “Why did you take on a job? Just to be with her?”

 

“No, to mop the floor and do the dishes,” he snapped.

 

“Geez, you’re touchy,” said Erika, stretching out her newly pedicured toes. “One would think you’re the one who got dumped the way you are clinging at her heels. It’s unsightly.” 

 

“I don’t understand,” Eron stated, his laugh truncated. “I all but told her how I manipulated her into dating me. She would never have thought about dating me if she remembered how she felt about Li Syaoran. But she brushed it all off. Instead, she thanked me. Can you believe it? She thanked me for staying by her side. When all I had been doing was thinking of ways to contaminate Li Syaoran’s reputation and keep him from approaching her.”

 

“You sound loony,” Erika said.

 

“Or drunk.”

 

“I’m not. Or maybe I am.” Eron wrangled his hands. “I don’t know anymore.”

 

“And I thought you were supposed to be the brains of the family.” Erika rolled her eyes. “Though they say lunacy does run in our blood. Then again, I’d go crazy if I dated someone like her as well. She’s a bit dense, if you haven’t noticed after two months of dating Princess Cherry Blossom.”

 

“No, she’s not. She can read people and buries all her sorrows within her because she doesn’t want to trouble others.” Eron laughed. “All this while I had been looking down on her, I was never even a match for her.”

 

“You did the right thing, Eron.”

 

But Erika was not in the mood to listen to her brother’s love woes, especially when the girl in question was the dimwitted Kinomoto Sakura. But she owed Eron since he had been so supportive when she broke up with Mike Kant, and it wasn’t like she didn’t somewhat understand what her brother was going through. “Why did you break up with her in the first place when you spend more time with her now than when you were dating?” Erika scraped the last crumb off her plate and smacked her lips in satisfaction. “I have a belief that breakups need to be clean and final to avoid ambiguities.”

 

He looked up at her with a whimsical smile. “Because if I stayed with her, I knew I would destroy her, but if I stayed away from her, I would destroy myself.”

 

And Erika’s golden-hazel eyes were filled with compassion. “Foolish onii-chan. You really did love her after all, didn’t you?”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Part III: Lost Forever

 

 

 

Even from a distance, Akagi Arima could recognize Tamemura Asuma’s form racing down the track. Now that the Japan Cup was less than a week away, jockeys were practicing diligently, though careful not to strain the horse’s muscles. In contrast, Asuma sailed down the tracks on Thunderbolt with a natural speed that put him in a league of his own. Maybe some years ago, she might have been able to beat him in a race or two. But now, there would be no competition. The most riding she had done over the past two years was some riding action for a feudal film. 

 

“So you are the lovely Akagi Arima-san.”


Arima jumped a bit, before spinning around to face a man with blue eyes and silver hair. Something about his visage was vaguely familiar, but she knew she had never met him before. “Do I know you?” she asked stiltedly. 

 

“I am a great fan of your works, especially your recent portrayal as Kaguya-hime,” he said. “You are even more radiant in person.”

 

Narrowing her eyes, Arima asked, “Pardon me, but do I know you?”

 

“Li Leiyun is my name.” Leiyun smiled.

 

That name rang a familiar bell. “You’re Asuma’s friend.”

 

“I am flattered that such a rising starlet as yourself knows the likes of me,” remarked Leiyun. “I have heard a lot about you from Asuma back in our days in Hong Kong.”

 

“You did?”

 

“He had the longest one-sided crush on you.” Leiyun’s eyes sparkled turquoise. “He composed many a confession letter that he tore up after we endlessly made fun of it.”

 

Wait, how could this man be Li Leiyun? “But I’m confused. I heard―I mean, I was under the understanding that…”

 

“Dead people should stay dead?” Leiyun smiled. “I agree with you. Dead people cannot come back to life, no matter how hard they try. Hence, I guess I must be alive. It’s too bad, isn’t it? There are far more living who deserve to die than dead to deserved to have died.”

 

Arima stared at Leiyun; there was something cacophonic about the slippery glib voice and flickering pupils.

 

“What’s worse is those stuck in a limbo. Not dead nor alive,” said Leiyun. “Like that vampire movie you starred in a couple years ago. That was your best piece to date, I would say, portraying the vampire Rosalind, condemned to eternal damnation for trying to save the life of her loved one.”

 

“You’re certainly must be a movie-guru. That was one of my earlier indie films that didn’t get much recognition,” remarked Arima.

 

“I told you I was a fan,” said Leiyun with a smile. “You know, your little brother looks remarkably like you.”

   

“You know Aki?” He was starting to creep her out; she had a stalker or two in the past and had developed a heightened sense of suspicion of everybody. Was this really Li Leiyun?

 

“He’s a student at the place I work.”

 

“You’re a teacher at Seijou High?” asked Arima. Maybe she had been overreacting. 

 

“I’m the school doctor,” replied Leiyun. “If I were you, I would be concerned about the group of friends he associates with. He’s got a bright future ahead of him. But if he meddles with the wrong crowd. Bam. He’s going to get drawn into a big mess, one he could have avoided.”

 

“I’m sorry but it’s none of my business who my little brother hangs out with,” stated Arima sharply, turning around and slipping on a large hat to hide her face.

 

“Aren’t you going to say hi to Asuma?” Leiyun asked, tilting his head towards the tracks.

 

“It’s all right. I was just dropping by because I had a press conference nearby,” said Arima, pulling her hat low over her head and hurrying away from this disturbing man who claimed to be Li Leiyun.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Hey, Aki,” said Arima, looking up from the kitchen TV. She was watching the racing channel curled up on the wooden stool and crunching on carrot sticks.

 

“Onee-san. What are you doing home? I thought you’re finishing up shooting in Hokkaido,” said her teenage brother, Akagi Aki, setting down his Seijou Basketball Team duffel bag. His sister might be a top-star actress to the public, but when she was home, she wore baggy track clothes from high school and tied her hair back in a messy knot―the public was sorely deceived if they thought the actress Akagi Arima lead some super glamorous lifestyle.  

 

“I had some business in Tokyo,” replied Arima vaguely. “By the way, do you have a new school doctor?”

 

Aki rummaged through the cabinet and produced a bag of potato chips. “Yeah, we do. He’s new this semester. Supposedly he’s from Hong Kong or some place, though his Japanese is fluent.”

 

“What’s he like?” She shook her head when her brother offered her chips.

 

“Li Leiyun-sensei?” Aki glanced at his older sister, who he hadn’t seen for two months. “He’s popular with the girls, I suppose. He can be considered good-looking, though personally, I think there’s something off with him. There are rumors that he’s related to Li Syaoran―they look really similar. I told you that Li-kun transferred into our class, right? Eitoukou-betrayer.”

 

“How are Sakura-chan and Syaoran-kun doing?” asked Arima with a wry smile.

 

“I don’t know. Sakura-chan got dumped by Eron-kun, it seems, and there’s been a constant murderous vibe in our classroom, it’s quite stressful,” said Aki. He was a happy-go-lucky type of guy, and he didn’t like watching his classmate distressed because that made Tomoyo worried. “Anyway, why are you suddenly asking about Li-sensei?”

 

“Hmm. Nothing important,” replied Arima. “Remember Asuma’s best friend in Hong Kong?”

 

Aki frowned. “The one that died?”

 

“Well, he didn’t really die, it turned out. He’s your current school doctor,” said Arima.

 

“Eh, how did that happen?” Aki asked, bug-eyed.

 

“I don’t know. He’s Syaoran-kun’s cousin.” Arima chewed on her dry carrots, eying the bag of potato chips jealously.

 

“I knew they were related,” Aki stated.

 

Arima’s cell phone bell rang. She glanced it and silenced the call.

 

“Was that Asuma-aniki?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Aki couldn’t contain himself anymore and burst out, “Why are you ignoring his calls? Didn’t you come back to see Asuma-aniki?”  

 

Slowly, Arima turned and blinked at Aki. “No, I didn’t.”

 

“The Japan Cup is a week away. Aren’t you going to go cheer on him?”

 

Arima crossed her arms. “I need to go back to Hokkaido to finish up the shoot.”

 

“You haven’t seen him for months. It’s not just any race―it’s the Japan Cup―he’d be waiting for you.”

 

“No, he won’t be,” replied Arima shortly.

 

“Then the rumors are true? You’re engaged to your co-star Himura Takuya?” Aki demanded.

 

“Don’t you think I’d tell you if I’m engaged to someone?” Arima replied crossly. “I swear, why do people believe that garbage?”

 

“But the photos in the tabloids―”

 

“It’s true, Takuya-san and I are good friends. But we have a working relationship, that’s all.” Arima frowned.

 

“Then you need to explain things to Asuma-aniki,” said Aki. “Why won’t you answer his calls? He contacted me, saying that you won’t return his calls or emails, and he was worried something happened to you. It looks like you’re avoiding him!”

 

“I am avoiding him,” Arima replied curtly.

 

Aki dropped the bag of potato chips he was eating out of. “Why?”

 

“Aki, you’ve never been in a relationship, have you? When you become an adult, there are responsibilities that you need to carry out.” Arima tossed her half-chewed carrot back into the plate and sat up.

 

Her younger brother mumbled under his breath, “Like you’re that much older than me.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Week nights were a little less crowded at the restaurant, though Syaoran almost preferred when it was completely busy, because then he wouldn’t have to watch Eron and Sakura endlessly whispering to each other behind the kitchen counters. It was bad enough seeing them together at school all day, let alone in the evenings as well. And he did not like the way that Sakura looked up at Eron with an enigmatic smile, as if the two shared some sort of secret together. He walked over to the new customer and asked, “May I take your order please?” 

 

The man in a dashing pinstripe navy suit sitting alone in the corner seat set down his menu. Syaoran immediately recognized the tanned skin and the longish mussed tan-brown hair. “Asuma-san!”

 

“Syaoran-kun!” Asuma exclaimed, eying the boy’s uniform. “You’re working here? How have you been doing? I heard you were back from Hong Kong. I can’t believe you didn’t even contact me once.”

 

“You’ve been abroad for months,” pointed out Syaoran. “Congratulations on winning the Prix de l’Arc Triomphe.”

 

“Thanks.” Asuma let out a long sigh. “Traveling is fun but it’s been so long since I came back to Japan.”

 

“You’re here for the Japan Cup?” Syaoran asked.

 

“Yeah. It’s been a while since I’ve competed in home terrain. Wait.” Asuma fumbled in his pocket and produced special VIP tickets. “You have to come, all right? Bring your friends. Special box seats.”

 

“I’ll definitely go,” Syaoran said, setting down the pitcher to put the passes into his trouser pocket.

 

“I met Leiyun the other day.”

 

Syaoran managed to reply, “I see.”

 

“I guess miracles do happen. All these years, and I never knew he was alive.”

 

“None of us did.”

 

Asuma looked up at Syaoran. “It’s strange. I was glad to see him, and he seemed the same... Yet he wasn’t. It’s like Leiyun is not like Leiyun anymore.”

 

Syaoran knew exactly what Asuma was saying and stared at the ground. “You heard how he was sent on a mission seven years ago.”

 

“Right. I was back in Japan then in high school. He wrote me a letter telling me vaguely about it. I think he too had an ill premonition about the mission even then. Then, I heard from your sister Feimei about what happened.” Asuma paused, grim. “So he wasn’t dead? Or was the Clan mistaken?”

 

“Seven years ago, when he was sixteen, he was sent on a mission, a deadly mission.” Syaoran hesitated for continuing, “The Clan thought he had demised.”

 

“But he somehow survived,” murmured Asuma, sipping on his glass of water. He had learned years ago to not ask too deeply about the internal affairs of the Li Clan. “Well, I always thought Lei was a tough one. He wouldn’t die that easily.”

 

“I should have known that. I should have known he wouldn’t be defeated so easily,” said Syaoran.

 

“You were just a kid. What could you have done?” said Asuma.

 

“Li-kun, your orders are waiting, what’s taking you so long?” stated Sakura, walking with a tray laden with five entrée dishes. Then she recognized the man sitting in the table for two. “Asuma-san!”

 

“Sakura-chan!” You work here too?” Asuma’s turquoise eyes flitted between Sakura and Syaoran. Hadn’t the two been on first-name basis before? “Sakura-chan, you have to come to my race next Saturday, all right? I gave Syaoran the tickets to special front-row seats.”

 

Syaoran cleared his throat when he saw the manager eying him. He had been standing around talking with Asuma for a good ten minutes and the other tables were impatiently waiting for him to bring about the water. “Are you alone today, or will you have company?”

 

“I’m meeting Arima,” said Asuma. “She’s running a little late, I guess. She’s been acting strange lately. Figures. It’s tough doing long distance. We haven’t seen each other since last year.”

 

“Arima-san is always busy. I saw Arima-san a couple weeks ago at the Vogue Nippon Reception,” Sakura said.

 

“Ah, I saw your Vogue Nippon spread in the summer with Arima,” stated Asuma. “You were adorable. Are you going to follow your mother’s footsteps?”

 

“Hoe. Arima-san just took me along to that photo shoot.” Sakura blushed. “I had no clue what I was doing.”

 

“Though I’m not much of an expert, it was a beautiful photo shoot, the best I’ve ever seen,” said Asuma. “Right, Syaoran-kun?”

 

“Huh?” Syaoran turned red as well. “R-right. The jewelry was nice.”

 

Sakura glanced at Syaoran out of the corner of her eyes. “Did you see the magazine as well?”

 

And Syaoran knew he had been driven into a hole. “Well, sort of. My sisters buy all sorts of Japanese fashion magazines. It was coincidence.”

 

“I didn’t know they sell Japanese magazines in Hong Kong,” remarked Sakura.

 

“Let me guess. Did Fanren and Jingmei force you to translate all the love quizzes and dating advice columns?” asked Asuma with a chuckle.

 

“Something like that,” mumbled Syaoran, unable to meet Sakura’s eyes. “Jingmei’s in Japan, you know. She works in the same hospital as Kinomoto-san and Tsukishiro-san.”

 

“Really? Did your whole family decide to emigrate to Japan?” Asuma chuckled. “Don’t tell me Fanren and Feimei and the rest are here as well.”

 

“Thank goodness, no,” said Syaoran, shuddering.

 

Sakura had forgotten that Asuma had spent several years in Hong Kong and had been close with Syaoran’s sisters and cousins. It was strange hearing Syaoran talk of his family normally. That’s right, though there were the complications with the Li Clan succession and council of the Great Elders, there were also the cousins and relatives that Syaoran had grown up with; they were his family and shared his childhood. She did not like thinking of Syaoran’s life back in Hong Kong, his other life. “You must have missed Arima-san a lot,” Sakura said to Asuma.

 

Asuma glanced at the pair questioningly; he had not missed the awkward tension between the two. Something about Sakura and Syaoran had changed too. Somehow, Asuma could figure the past year had been tough on two of them as well. “Yeah. I came to a realization while I was sitting alone in the hotel room in Paris.” He glanced over to the other diners and then leaned over and said in a hushed voice to the two, “I’m going to propose to her tonight.”

 

“HOE!” Sakura squealed, blushing happily. “Really?”

 

“Shhh…” Asuma grinned from ear to ear. “I’m crazy about her, and I can’t live without her. Why put off the inevitable? It’s totally impromptu. I should have prepared a better event, but it’s so hard for both of us to meet up. I picked up a ring from a boutique in Paris. It’s in my pocket right now.” He flicked open the jewelry case to reveal a beautiful 4 carat heart-cut diamond encrusted with smaller diamonds.

 

“Wow, congratulations!” exclaimed Syaoran and Sakura in unison. Then they glared at each other, as if comparing which one of them was happier for the couple. After all, each of them felt a little bit entitled to boasting rights as matchmaker of the Arima/Asuma union. 

 

“It’s beautiful!” Sakura said. “Arima-san will surely love it.”

 

“Do you think so?” Asuma blushed to his ears. “I don’t know much about these things, but when I saw this ring, I knew it would be perfect for her.”

 

Eron came balancing two trays and told them, “You two better get in the kitchen before the chef throws a fit.” He saw a glamorous woman with tawny curls peeping out of a scarf wrapped around her head. She stepped towards the quiet corner where Asuma was sitting. Eron took her fur coat and pushed back the seat for her.

 

Asuma’s face lighted up. He quickly hid the jewelry case in his pocket. “Arima!”

 

“Sorry I’m late. The mall signing event went over time.” Arima took off her sunglasses. “Did you wait a lot? You should have started without me.”

 

“I just got here,” said Asuma. “Why haven’t you been picking up my calls? You knew I was back in Japan.”

 

“Sorry, it’s been so hectic with my new movie promotions that it completely slipped from my mind that the Japan Cup’s coming up,” Arima said, sipping on the glass of house wine.

 

“The one with Himura Takuya?”


“Yeah.”

 

“This is your third movie with him. You’d think there would be more competent male actors to go around,” Asuma mumbled under his breath.

 

“You know we’re from the same agency,” said Arima tiredly.

 

Asuma realized he made a mistake. “Well, take a look at the menu. I don’t know about you, but I’m famished. You look like you lost weight.”

 

“I’m on a salad diet,” said Arima as she glanced over the scrumptious entrées listed in the menu.

 

“They still have your favorite banana pudding pie,” said Asuma.

 

“You’re right. They do. Maybe I can break the diet for one night. I haven’t been here in ages,” said Arima with a slight nostalgic smile as she gazed around. “Kinomoto-kun and Tsukishiro-kun used to waiter here.”

 

“I brought you here on our first official date,” Asuma reminded.

 

“Did you? What did we eat?”

 

“Sirloin steak with mushrooms and seared tuna nicoise salad,” said Asuma. “And five different desserts.”

 

“And yet, you could never remember the lines to our school play,” Arima remarked with a small chuckle.

 

He cleared his throat before he lost his nerve. “Arima, this past year has been really hard for us. We couldn’t spend much time together. And when we did, we were always tired. But―” He reached into his left trouser pocket.

 

“Asuma, that’s why I said we should meet today. I didn’t want to talk to you over the phone, so I took a break and came down to Tokyo,” said Arima.

 

Arima had lost him. He looked at her beautiful red lips and saw them moving.

 

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

 

It took a moment for the words the register in his mind. Finally, he realized what she had just said. “Why?” demanded Asuma. “Is it your agency again? They’re opposed to you being in a relationship?”

 

“No, it’s not them. It’s my decision. I’m tired of this. Let’s end it,” said Arima, staring at her plate.

 

As expected, his green-blue eyes sparking up in anger. “Why are you saying this now? Is it true? Do you have another man?”

 

“It’s not that.” Arima looked up at her long-time friend and lover. “We can’t be together. My schedule for the next three years is packed with filming. If I take on the Bond Girl project, I’m going to be abroad for a good year and a half. You’re in your prime as a horse racer―you’re going to be traveling. The chances that we will be even in the same country at the same time is next to zero.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. There’s Christmas, New Year’s, the weekends, every little time in between, I’ll fly to where ever you are.”

 

“Don’t you get it, Asuma?” Sudden tears filled Arima. “It’s me. I can’t do it anymore? I can’t stand this uncertainty of not knowing when I’ll see you next. It’s draining. I can’t concentrate on my acting. And acting is my first priority.”

 

“I don’t get it. What more can I do? Your work is important, my work is important. But we’ve managed till now, haven’t we? Do you want me to quit racing then? I’ll quit then, if it means I can be there with you.” Asuma was shouting now, and he didn’t care if the other diners were looking their way. 

 

“No, I don’t want you to quit!” exclaimed Arima. “Do what you want to do, and I’ll do what I set out to do. We’ll go our separate paths, as we’re supposed to. It’s something I foresaw back when I first chose acting over racing.”

 

“You really… want to end things?” His voice was broken. “The rumors are true, aren’t they? You‘re seeing Himura.”

 

Out of anybody, she thought Asuma would believe her. “Do you seriously believe that of me?”

 

“I’m not blind. I saw the pictures. I get asked questions all the time from acquaintances, reporters, even my own mother. I told them I believe you. But I’ve got to hear from you in person. Are you in love with someone else?”

 

Her coffee brown eyes were defiant. “And if I am?”

 

“If you are, I’ll let you go,” said Asuma. “I’m not going to hold you back.”

 

Arima was not a born actress for no reason. The tears that were welling up from her heart were held back, and she lifted up her head. “It’s true. I’m in love with Takuya-san. I see him every day, and I was lonely. He has been a great comfort to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

 

“I see.” Asuma managed to smile tightly, but he wasn’t a very good actor. “Well, I wish you the best then. I guess this is goodbye.” He set down cash on the table and grabbed his overcoat, leaving the restaurant.

 

After he left, Arima crumpled over the table and wept. Luckily, the booth was partitioned off from the rest of the dining area; it was a popular seat especially for engagements.

 

From the kitchen counters Sakura whispered to Syaoran, “Why did Asuma-san just leave? Wasn’t he proposing to Arima-san”

 

“I don’t know,” replied Syaoran, trying to peek through the pillar.

 

Sakura pushed him away. “Arima-san is crying. What just happened?”  

 

“Go,” said Syaoran, nudging her forward.

 

“What am I going to say?”

 

Eron handed Sakura a stack of napkins. “Looks like she’ll be needing this.”

 

Timidly, Sakura walked up to Arima, who looked lovely even though tears were pouring down her cheeks.

 

“Sakura-chan? What are you doing here? Did you pick up that habit from your brother, always popping up as a part-timer at random stores and restaurants?” sniffled Arima, hands covering her face. “Do I look awful? Is my mascara running? I hope there’s no press here. I can just see it in the headlines tomorrow. ‘Actress Akagi Arima dumped in public.’ Though I guess I’m the one that broke things off with him.”

 

After a while, Arima calmed down and checked her face in her compact. By the time she left the restaurant, it looked like she had not cried at all. Sakura had to admire the skills of a professional.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Akagi Aki wandered into the classroom, looking unusually morose. “Why do couples have to break up?” he asked the girls quite rhetorically.

 

If he didn’t look so worried, Tomoyo might have laughed. “Did something happen?”

 

“I’m worried for onee-san. She broke up with Asuma-san out of the blue,” Aki replied. “And she wailed all night long as if she was possessed. I couldn’t sleep a wink―she’d make a wonderful vengeful ghost in a movie.”

 

“Do you have an idea why she would break up with him?” Tomoyo asked.

 

“I don’t know,” replied Aki. “There was that scandal in the tabloids. They had a big fight over Christmas and the two have drifted apart the past year―I guess it’s natural because Asuma-aniki was always abroad and onee-san was busy filming her new movie.”

 

“But Asuma-san and Arima-san love each other,” said Sakura woefully, recalling Arima’s tear-streaked face.

 

“I know they do. That’s what I don’t understand.” Aki clasped his forehead. “Ugh, I just don’t understand women. Though I overheard a strange phone conversation yesterday.”

 

“What was it?” asked Sakura.

 

“It was late at night and she was talking to someone. She said, ‘I’m not together with him so don’t bother calling me again about that. He has nothing to do with me anymore.’”

 

Syaoran frowned. “Who was she talking to?”

 

“I’m not sure, but it sounded like a man. At first, I thought it was someone at the agency, but then, I realized they wouldn’t be calling her that late at night,” replied Aki. “So then I thought it might be the man she’s having an affair with.”

 

“Arima-san is having an affair with someone?” Meilin asked. 

 

“No!” Aki said. “And then, I heard her tell the person, ‘I’ll pay back for the company, so leave him alone; he has nothing to do with this.”

 

“That sounds like an extortion case!” Meilin exclaimed. She had become very knowledgeable in these sorts of shady affairs thanks to having a criminal boyfriend.   

 

“I’m scared for onee-san,” Aki continued. “At first, I thought it was the tabloid journalists again, threatening her with a scandal, but the way she sounded terrified got me real worried. I don’t know what to do―I’m afraid she’ll be troubled if I let on that I heard her conversation.”

 

“You thought correctly,” Mizuki Kai stated, taking his seat. He whipped off his sunglasses. “Actress Akagi Arima is being blackmailed by yakuza.”

 

“Yakuza?” squeaked Aki.

 

“How do you know that?” asked Syaoran.

 

“I have my sources,” replied Kai grimly. “More specifically, she’s being accosted by Minato-gumi boss, Minato Abe.”

 

Tomoyo frowned, trying to recall where she heard that name before. “The man who kidnapped Sakura-chan?”

 

Kai nodded. “The entertainment agency that Arima works for is one of the biggest in the business. But at one point, they almost went bankrupt and borrowed a lot of yakuza money to recuperate. In other words, they were in heavy debt to the Minato-gumi. Arima-san has been such a big hit in recent years, the agency has grown five-fold and is very successful. Reversely, Minato-gumi after its recent collapse in power resulting from the humiliating defeat of their boss against the Yamamoto-gumi leader, is currently in a financial pinch.”

 

“What does this have to do with Arima-san?” asked Sakura.

 

“They told Arima-san, the chief money-earning for the agency, that she has to get Asuma to withdraw from the Japan Cup or else they’re going to ruin the company. They can do that with accusations of black market money―any scandal is enough to ruin an agency, an actor’s entire career,” responded Kai.

 

Meilin interjected, “And how does this involve Asuma-san?”

 

Kai replied, “Minato-gumi has been investing in horserace gambling. They need their candidate to win in order to make a lump sum of money quickly. Of course, everyone is expecting Asuma-san, Triple-Crown winner to claim another victory, so if another candidate wins, that means immediate profit.”

 

“What’s the Triple Crown?” asked Sakura.

 

“It’s one of the most prestigious titles a horse can win in Japan,” replied Syaoran. “It goes to the jockey and horse team that wins the three legs of Japanese horse racing, the Sakurai Sho, Tokyo Yushun and the Kikuka Sho. Some call it the test of speed, the test of luck and the test of strength. Only six other horses in history have received the Japanese Triple Crown―it’s a great honor for Thunderbolt and Asuma-san.”

 

“Wow, Asuma-san really is amazing,” mused Sakura―she had always known he was, just not to what extent.  

 

“The problem is, everyone knows Asuma-san and Arima-san are an item. Asuma quitting the Japan Cup just a couple days away would be a devastating blow to his investors but big money for whomever else takes the Cup; namely the horse that Minato Abe has invested in,” Kai said. Unlike his father, he had a quick brain for investments and profiteering.

 

“But Asuma-san is going to compete in the Japan Cup,” Sakura stated.

 

“Onee-san knows Asuma-aniki’s dream. She couldn’t make him give up the Japan Cup,” Aki murmured half to himself. “That’s why she broke up with him.”

 

“Right. She had to end her relationship with Tamemura Asuma so that the yakuza couldn’t manipulate her and use Asuma-san,” Kai stated. “It’s a win-win scenario for Minato Abe; if Asuma-san had been pressured into quitting the Japan Cup by Arima-san, Minato Abe gets what he wants, and even if Asuma doesn’t drop out, then Minato-gumi has grounds to further blackmail Arima-san’s agency for money.”  

 

Sakura bolted up. “But what’ll happen to Arima-san then? Wouldn’t the Minato-gumi be angry that she didn’t follow their orders?”

 

Aki frowned. “Should we call the police?”

 

“I wouldn’t recommend that―that might put Asuma-san in danger, if the Minato-gumi is pressured by the police in anyway,” said Kai. “Don’t worry about Arima-san for now. I’ve got some reliable friends who are keeping surveillance on her 24-7.”

 

“More yakuza?” asked Meilin skeptically.

 

“They’re not all bad,” Kai protested. “Just like all you Li’s aren’t all good.”

 

“Are you trying to pick a fight with me?” Meilin demanded.

 

“Why is her agency even allowing this?” Aki said.

 

Kai’s eyes darkened. “It’s what happens when you sign a contract without a lawyer and an agent.”

 

Aki sighed. “You’re right. My sister was being all rebellious when she wanted to become an actress against my parent’s wishes that she complete college and follow the family business. She went ahead and found any agency and signed a contract by herself, since she was already of legal age, which is why they are overworking her to death without any vacation whatsoever. She won’t even show us her contract, because she’s too headstrong to admit she made a mistake. The good thing is, she likes acting, but I’ve always thought she’s had very unfair working conditions considering how popular she is. So what do I do? How can I save my sister?”

 

Sakura looked up at Aki. “Leave things to us, Aki-kun. We’re not going to let anyone harm Arima-san.”

 

“Thanks, Sakura-chan.” Aki didn’t look very convinced as he walked off to his seat.

 

Sakura turned to Mizuki Kai with a smile. “Thank you Kai-kun, for looking into this matter. You’re really amazing.”

 

The Thief of the Night grinned from ear to ear. “Any more compliments?”

 

“I don’t know what we would have done without you. You’re an absolute genius!” Sakura praised him. The others groaned―Kai was a showoff who liked being complimented like some little kid.

 

“That’s why I’m here for. In your Alliance, you have your knights, your guardians, your advisers and even you own professional costume designer. You just need your own criminal spymaster who will take care of the dirty work for you,” said Kai with an exaggerated bow. Truth was, he had been bored out of his mind ever since he had retired as Kaitou Magician, and enjoyed being useful again.

 

Meilin eyed Syaoran who sank back, looking rather left out of things.

 

“Well, I’m going to check if my friends have some updates,” said Kai. “Give me a call if anything comes up.”

 

“I don’t have your number, Kai-kun,” reminded Sakura.

 

With a wink, Kai flicked out his sleek black touch phone and dialed a number. Sakura’s bell rang. “You have it now.”

 

 

 

Following Kai down the stairwell, Meilin stated accusingly, “You didn’t tell Sakura-chan everything.”

 

“Taoka told me that he didn’t think Minato Abe was acting alone,” he replied.

 

“Someone’s supporting him from behind the scenes?” Meilin blinked. “Who?”

 

Kai stared at Meilin pointedly.

 

“You’re not keeping things from Sakura-chan,” Meilin said in sudden realization. “It’s because Syaoran was there. You don’t suspect Syaoran, do you?”

 

“No, I believe in him,” replied Kai. “I’m just pointing out, have you wondered why Syaoran suddenly decided to live with Sakura?”

 

“Because he’s still in love with her?” replied Meilin directly.

 

Kai shook his head. “You know Syaoran better than that. He avoided her in Hong Kong because of that very reason.”

 

“Though Sakura doesn’t seem to realize it,” muttered Meilin.

 

“Though Sakura doesn’t seem to realize it,” agreed Kai. “No, there must be a very good reason for him to choose to reside in the Kinomoto house.”


“Isn’t Sakura enough of a reason?”

 

“Why did he leave Leiyun?” Kai asked pointedly. “I’ve met Leiyun, several times. He’s not a person who will easily let go of what he wants.”

 

“You mean, Leiyun let Syaoran leave the house and did not bring him back on purpose?” Meilin paused. “You think Syaoran pretended to have a falling out with Leiyun?”

 

“I’m just saying, Syaoran’s reasons for staying at Sakura’s place might not be as simple as you think.”

 

Her breath was caught in her chest. “You think―he’s using her?” she demanded. “Do you honestly think that Syaoran would do something so vile? How can you even consider something like that?”

 

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” snapped Kai. “You’re so blinded when it comes to your precious cousin, you don’t look at things objectively. Think about it. Why would Syaoran, who spent the past year trying to avoid Sakura as much as possible suddenly jump to her side again? The situation hasn’t changed at all. He doesn’t have his powers back, and the Great Elder’s still in a critical position. For all we know, he’s not emancipated from the Li Clan. If he was, he should have returned the Sakura Cards to their rightful owner. Instead, I’m pretty sure Leiyun still keeps it safely locked away. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re coming up with ways to be able to manipulate the Cards this very moment.”

 

Meilin admitted, “You’re right that Syaoran’s a pretty stubborn guy. He isn’t the type of person who would return to Sakura and pretend as if he didn’t do any wrong without fixing the core of the problem.”

 

“Yet that’s precisely what he’s doing. Continuing on daily life like that. As if he’s biding for time.”

 

“Time for what?” Meilin glared at Kai. “Do you know something? Did Kara tell you something?”

 

“No, she didn’t,” said Kai. “She wouldn’t. But purely on an observational basis, we know that firstly, Leiyun somehow is granting Syaoran his freedom in an unexpected circumstance and secondly, Syaoran knows this fact as well. I won’t be surprised if it’s a secret from the Li Clan that Syaoran is currently not residing at the Li mansion.” 

 

“Maybe Leiyun is helping Syaoran out,” Meilin said. “I know he’s a bit strange, but he’s not all together that bad. He really does care for Syaoran like a younger brother.”

 

Kai snorted. “I don’t know what he used to be like, but Leiyun is bat-shit crazy, and you know it.” He paused. “There are two factions of the Li Clan. You know very well of this. The faction of the Great Elder, Li Renshu, the traditionalists, which Syaoran is under. The followers are usually the younger generation who used to admire Li Ryuuren. Then, there is the faction of the Head, Li Wutai, the expansionists, followed by most of older the Inner Council, the group in favor of expanding the Li Clan’s control through Asia and internationally. The question is, where does Li Leiyun’s loyalty lie? His father is the Head, Li Wutai, but he too had been trained for many years under the Great Elder.”

 

Meilin tilted her head. “Why is it that you know the affairs of my family even better than I do?”

 

“Sometimes, you need an outsider’s objective eye,” he replied. 

 

“Now that you retired as a thief, maybe you should become a professional detective,” Meilin stated.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“You look glum,” remarked Li Leiyun, walking into the stables. He fed Thunderbolt a carrot. “Good boy,” he said stroking the magnificent chestnut stallion’s neck.

 

“I got dumped,” sighed Asuma.

 

Thunderbolt whinnied and sniffed Leiyun’s fingers. “How did that come about?”’ he asked.

 

Asuma fished inside his pocket and flipped open the velvet case. Inside was a brilliant heart-cut diamond set to a white-gold band. “I was planning on proposing to her. I couldn’t bear the thought that we be separated any longer. Instead, she said we should break up.”

 

“Isn’t it a bit too soon to be thinking of marriage?” asked Leiyun. “Both you and Arima have your entire careers ahead of you.”

 

“I knew I was going to propose to her one day ever since we graduated. The timing is sort of unexpected. I wasn’t going to do it for a three, four years at least. But I thought girls like this sort of thing!” Asuma stared at his steed. He understood horses through and through, but he did not understand women.

 

“Does love need a proof?”

 

Turning to Leiyun, Asuma said, “I don’t get her. I mean, I know she must be pretty pissed that I sent her only one postcard from Paris and called her twice, but there’s the time difference, and she gets so little sleep during film shoots, I didn’t want to wake her when she’s sleeping. And what’s to say she couldn’t call me?”

 

“Did you try to make up with her?”

 

“She blocked my number,” stated Asuma. “And her manager always tells me she’s busy. I know I shouldn’t jump into conclusions, but I can’t help thinking, she must have another guy. I kept convincing myself that I should believe in her, but maybe I’m being the blind one here. I mean, I’ve been patient and understanding, I really have. But it’s hard when your girlfriend’s a celebrity whose name is linked with every other handsome co-star.” 

 

“Well, the race is tomorrow,” said Leiyun. He had always been the more practical of the two. “You should focus on that and not let down Thunderbolt here.”

 

“My heart got broken and my pride trampled upon all in one night,” Asuma groaned. “How am I supposed to concentrate on the race?”

 

“It’s bad enough being the guy who got dumped,” said Leiyun. “You don’t want to be the guy who got dumped and lost the biggest race of the season.”

 

“Even if your master’s a failure, I can’t let your reputations as the king of stallions go down the drain with all the mares watching, can I?” said Asuma, brushing out the tangles in the chestnut’s mane. “We’ll beat them all, and maybe Arima will fall in love with me all over again.”

 

“If you paid as much attention to your girlfriend as your horse, you probably wouldn’t have been dumped,” Leiyun remarked offhandedly.

 

“Lei, are you trying to cheer me up or make me go jump off the stable roof?” demanded Asuma. But he chuckled. He had always been simple-minded, and only able to concentrate on one thing at a time, which was his vice and strength.

 

Leiyun clapped his friend on the back. “Good luck tomorrow. Show them how you nailed the Triple Crown.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Saturday morning came around and Sakura entered the stadium, slightly overwhelmed as she clutched her black Tam o’Shanter with red pompoms to her head to keep it from flying away. It was her first time at the Tokyo Racecourse in Fuchu, and she wouldn’t be surprised if there were more than 100,000 people filing into the arena; she didn’t think she saw so many people gathered in one spot before. She wore a Scottish wool scarlet and black plaid dress with a black velvet collar and buttoned sleeves. Tomoyo trailed behind her, videotaping the spectacle. She wore a red riding jacket trimmed with black fur and a long black skirt with black lace-up ankle boots. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail with a little black cap with red feathers and lace trimmings fastened to the side of her head. Shortly behind them followed Kai and Meilin, Kai in an auspicious black trench coat, hair flaming red, and Meilin in a black turtleneck and red tartan miniskirt with a short leather jacket, fishnet stockings and black leather boots. Behind them, Syaoran followed, clearly realizing what a sight they might have looked like to observers―luckily, the spectators were too excited about the race to take notice of the misanthrope group decked out in scarlet and jet black. He tucked his hand into his woolen red blazer jacket with a black collar. His black trousers were made of wool and were warm, thanks to Tomoyo’s consideration, and were tucked into black ridding boots with buckles on the side.

 

Turning around to the group, Sakura remarked, “You know, I keep getting this feeling we’ve forgotten someone.”

 

Tomoyo said, “Kero-chan’s right here in my bag.”

 

On cue, Kero-chan emerged from the bag with a black and red pompom Tam o’Shanter on his head, waving a blue and white flag. “This is my first race. Is there food?”

 

“I’m here, invited or not,” stated Eron, with, in a silky red button-down shirt with a black scarf tied into a ribbon around his neck, and black linen pants a red-rimmed black fedora perched on his head. A red stud sparkled from his left lobe.

 

Syaoran scowled and Tomoyo shrugged. “Sorry, but Eron-kun insisted he looks good in red.” Which he did.

 

The group followed the map and finally found the Tamemura/Akagi box after much mishap. Someone was already sitting there. “Aki-kun!” exclaimed Sakura. “I didn’t expect you to be here.” Beside him was Miho, a big camera hanging from her neck and holding a clipboard. A red wool beanie covered her head and she wore a cute little red cape over a lace blouse and black bubble shorts with red and black checkered tights underneath. 

 

“The Japan Cup’s a big deal,” replied Aki with a sigh. He didn’t have much of an interest in horseracing like the rest of his family but was there out of concern for his sister.

 

Miho briefly glared up at her brother and stated, “Aki-senpai brought me along so I can write an article. After all, Tamemura Asuma-san is a Seijou alumnus.” She glanced around. “Where’s Eriol?”

 

And a stricken expression came over Sakura’s face as she realized who she had forgotten. “Oh no! Eriol-kun! How could we forget, Tomoyo-chan?”

 

Tomoyo blinked innocently. Clearly, as Sakura’s manager and second-in-charge, she had say in who got invited on the Star Alliance excursions. “I ran out of time and couldn’t complete the last outfit.”

 

“He’s going to throw a tantrum when he hears we left him out again,” said Miho with a snicker.

 

Aki nudged Sakura. “Isn’t that Li-sensei over there?”

 

Sakura and Syaoran glanced up. Indeed, several boxes over, sat Leiyun, intently absorbed by the race. His box was otherwise empty.

 

“What is he doing here?” Sakura asked.

 

“He’s always been interested in horseracing,” replied Syaoran. “It’s actually not that odd he should be here. The Li Group sponsors a lot of races in Hong Kong, and Leiyun always took interest, ever since he was young.”

 

“That’s where he met Asuma in the first place,” stated a female who took the empty seat next to Aki.

 

“Arima-san!” exclaimed Sakura. She had not expected her to be here. A beribboned wide-brimmed straw hat was perched on her head and she wore huge sunglasses which covered half her face.

 

“Shush, I snuck out of filming to be here.” Arima eyed Sakura’s friends. “Did you guys dress up in matching colors on purpose?”

 

“I-I’m surprised to see you here, Arima-san,” said Sakura. She did not miss the lines of worry etched on the actresses’ brows. She must have been concerned about Asuma. 

 

“Onee-san, you shouldn’t be here,” hissed Aki, gazing around the stadium in panic.

 

“It’s all right, we’re under tight surveillance,” said Kai, indicating over his shoulders. Aki looked up and saw four huge men in colorful suits, being very indiscreet that they were yakuza with their sunglasses and gaudy tattoos peeping out on the backs of their necks and wrists.

 

“Are they your friends?” muttered Aki suspiciously. Then he saw Tomoyo wave a little distance away at a row of four tall women looking foreboding in black suits and sunglasses. “Who are they?”

 

“Tomoyo-chan’s personal bodyguards,” replied Sakura with a smile.

 

Aki shook his head. He definitely did not have normal friends.  

 

Miho leaned over the railing and saw a young woman straddle on a white horse marked 7. “Isn’t that Rido-senpai? What is she doing there?”

 

“Rido-san replaced the Li jockey for this race,” said Meilin.

 

“How do you know that?” Syaoran asked, squinting at Leiyun. What was he up to now? There were at least 200,000 spectators in the stadium. Surely he wouldn’t try anything here―even for Leiyun that was too risky.

 

Kara was the only female rider on the tracks, and her golden hair was tied back into a short ponytail, tucked into her green helmet. She was mounted on a magnificent white Arabian. Sakura thought Kara looked very dignified and splendid on her white horse and looked like she belonged right on the race tracks. “Which one is Asuma-san?” Sakura asked.

 

“The blue and white―number 3,” replied Aki over the noise of the commentator’s voice and the cheering of the crowd. 

 

The gates opened and the thunderous clatter of hooves signaled that the race had begun. “What, the race already began?” Sakura leaned over, squinting through the cloud of dust. Bays, chestnuts, blacks and grays. The green and golden checkered pattern of Kara’s silks became a green-gold blur as the horses raced forward. She could barely keep track of which horse was which but luckily, Asuma took the clear lead on his chestnut stallion, Thunderbolt. “Go Asuma-san!” she called out.

 

“And as expected, Tamemura Akagi, number 3, takes lead on Thunderbolt,” cried out the commentator. “Thunderbolt is in fine condition today, a beautiful red-brown chestnut, worthy of his sire Midnight Star and dam, Marron Chocolat.” He paused for breath. “But the dark-horse candidate number 7, on a beautiful white Arabian―quite rare a specimen―is inching forward. Who is this unidentified jockey and mysterious new horse? Owner is Li Stables’ Li Leiyun. Li Stables from Hong Kong has produced many fine thoroughbred race horses over the years and will Morning Star go down the list of champions under the Li Stables’ belt? Let us see! Now, Morning Star has the lead by half a length, no but Tamemura Asuma and Thunderbolt gallop forward and again have the lead!”    

 

Sakura frowned. Even from this distance, there was no mistake. “The horse that Kara Reed is riding… Isn’t that Midnight Star?”

 

“The Unicorn?” Syaoran asked, turning to her. Without his powers, he couldn’t verify this fact, but they certainly looked similar enough.

 

“But how―” Sakura paled. “I thought Leiyun-san was not able to use the Sakura Cards.”

 

“The Great Five each had a patron animal, a familiar you might call it. The Unicorn was Landon Reed’s patron animal, so it has loyalty foremost to the Reed bloodline,” said Kai from behind them. “It won’t be surprising if the Unicorn would consent to the commands of a Reed, namely Kara Reed, currently the only remaining descendent of Landon Reed.”

 

Meanwhile, Tomoyo was silent, deep in thought because she realized her videocamera, as high-tech as it was, did not have enough zoom to film a horse race. An admirer of beauty, she watched in marvel as the horses stampeded forward and the jockeys’ silks blurred into streaks of red, blue, green, yellow and orange.  

 

The commentator cried out, his voice cracking in tension, “It’s a neck to neck race between Thunderbolt and Morning Star. Who will be the winner? The Triple Crown recipient, international champion Tamemura Asuma and Thunderbolt or rookie Kara Reed, the only female jockey competing today, and mystery stallion Morning Star?”

 

As the horses came turned the corner, Sakura craned further and further over the railings till she almost toppled over. She frowned. Something was not right. What was it? It was impossible to concentrate over the noise and the dust in the tracks.

“Where are you going?” hissed Meilin as Kai leaped over the bleachers. “We’ve got to protect Arima-san.”

 

She thought he said, “It was a red herring. We got distracted by the wrong issue,” before melting in with the crowd.

 

“Worried he bid on the wrong horse, no doubt,” grumbled Meilin.

 

The enthused commentator’s voice could be heard booming over the tracks. “And Thunderbolt has surpassed Morning Star again by one full length. There is no doubt Tamemura Asuma is a rare sportsman that will come maybe once every quarter century. Thunderbolt is racing like he has never before. But Morning Star is tailing closely behind. They pass the 2000 meter mark! Two fine stallions racing towards the finishing line―is our national champion Tamemura Asuma going to win the gold cup again―wait―something has happened. Thunderbolt suddenly jerks back―uncommon behavior from such a well-behaved horse―and Morning Star surges forward―”

 

But nobody was listening any longer. The spectators watched in horror as Thunderbolt jerked then lurched back on his hind leg, breaking formation. Without any warning, the powerful horse writhed, teeth bared, and yanked his head and twisted his torso, hurling Asuma off the saddle into the air. Asuma’s body collapsed on the dirt with a bone chilling crack. It all happened in a matter of a split second, and the other horses galloped forward from momentum, leaving the spectators to wait for the cloud of dust to clear away. 

 

There was a dead silence in the tracks, an abnormality as a race had just ended. The commentator was silent, and did not announce the results of the race, and the other racers finally realized that one of the jockeys had fallen. As their horses came to a halt, and they turned around, they could see the contorted form of a man sprawled on the floor, like a limp mannequin, and the ferocious chestnut red stallion stamped and snorted around the fallen rider, fuming and uncontrollable.

 

Arima stood up, yanking off her hat and sunglasses, witnessing the nightmare spread before her eyes. “ASUMA!” She leaped over the railing and ran towards the tracks, shoving past the guards.

 

“Lady, stand back!” cried out one of the ushers.

 

“Let go of me! Do you know who I am?” demanded Arima, running towards Asuma’s body.

 

“Someone control the beast―he’s going to tread over the boy!” cried out Tamemura Azuno, first to come to his senses as was a parent’s instinct. He wobbled over from the stands towards his son.

 

“This horse is uncontrollable!” cried out Asuma’s apprentice. “Thunderbolt’s never been like this before.” The chestnut beast snarled at the young man and kicked up its hind legs and shook in fury.

 

“Get out of the way,” said Arima.

 

“Stand back, Arima, it’s dangerous!” exclaimed Tamemura Azuno.

 

“Ojii-san, you trained Asuma and me for years equally,” said Arima. “I know what I’m doing.” She pushed away Asuma’s apprentice and walked up to Thunderbolt.

 

“The paramedics have arrived!” exclaimed the manager.

 

“Be careful when moving him―his body has been heavily crushed,” said Tamemura Azuno. 

 

“The horse―we can’t get to the patient!” stated the paramedic, cowering away from the vicious stallion.

 

“Someone tie that horse down―it’s gone mad!” shouted out Asuma’s father.

 

Unfazed, Arima took another step closer and stared at Thunderbolt in the eye. “Calm down, boy. Asuma’s hurt. You’ve got to calm down.” The horse snorted at her, and she could see he was as panic-ridden as the rest of them. “It’s all right, Thunder, it’s all right. It’s not your fault. Asuma doesn’t blame you and neither do I. It’s not your fault.” Thunderbolt recognized Arima’s soothing voice―after all, Asuma and Arima had seen Thunderbolt’s birth and had fed him cubes of sugar when he was a yearling colt and fought over who would get to ride him when he was old enough to join the races. But of course, Arima had chosen acting, and after losing Midnight Star, Thunderbolt became Asuma’s choice steed. “It’s going to be okay, Thunder, so calm down. That’s a good boy.” She ventured to place her hand on the horse’s head, stroking behind his ears and speaking softly and calmly. As a trained actress, her voice could command an audience of thousands. It also worked on the horse.

 

And the horse finally quieted, and Asuma’s apprentice meekly led him towards the stables. “It’s not Thunderbolt’s fault―make sure he’s not punished. Asuma wouldn’t want that,” said Arima. 

 

The paramedics managed to lift Asuma onto the stretcher. And still, Arima did not walk any closer to him. As a former junior jockey, she had seen dozens of excellent riders thrown off their horses in her time. She too had fallen off a horse numerous times, granted not at that speed and height, and certainly had not been stamped down upon by the full weight of the horse.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

The racecourse had long since emptied out and looked abandoned when just an hour ago, it had been overfilled with people. Sakura and her friends remained, hoping to get a chance to examine the situation as none of them believed Asuma’s fall was completely an accident. Aki, Miho and Tomoyo went off to investigate foul-play and take pictures of the accident spot. Kai was still not back. Sakura and Syaoran were left to try to speak with the Tamemura Stables and check on Thunderbolt’s status. News was that the horse hadn’t been badly injured and was more unnerved than anything else, but for the time being, nobody was allowed near the stallion for fear of another outburst.

 

“It’s not Thunder’s fault, it’s not,” insisted Asuma’s apprentice, a young man not much older than Sakura and Syaoran. “Thunderbolt’s the mildest-tempered most gentle horse you can find out there and has been trained for three years under the greatest experts. He’s not a horse that will suddenly throw off his rider without a reason.”

 

“We agree with you,” said Syaoran. “We’ll get down to the bottom of this.” And the man looked slightly cheered.

 

“Do you think Asuma-san will be all right?” asked Sakura as they walked past the race tracks. “I―I thought Arima-san was in danger. I never imagined Asuma-san…” She swallowed hard.

 

“None of us did,” said Syaoran. Asuma was an excellent rider, and a little fall shouldn’t hurt him. But that hadn’t been a little fall.

 

“Onii-chan said he’ll let me know how things turn out,” said Sakura. After receiving preliminary care at the local hospital, Asuma had been transferred to Kinhoshi Hospital. It was a spinal injury, though nobody knew how serious it was yet. 

 

Shortly after, Miho and Tomoyo returned. Miho reported back, “The employees were annoyed with us for snooping around―accidents are nothing new them here, I guess. They were going to kick us out until they figured out Aki-senpai was related to the Tamemura and Akagi Stables. He’s talking with the camera crew to review clips of the accident from multiple angles. But so far there is no evidence of foul play. But we’ll get to the bottom of this and figure out the who, what, where, when and why.”

 

“I didn’t sense anything amiss,” Kero-chan stated. “But we were at a distance and my abilities get muted when there are so many people around.” 

 

“Kai said something about a red herring before he disappeared,” Meilin stated. “I wonder if he was onto something.”

 

“Well, I guess all we can do is wait,” said Sakura with a frown.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Asuma was allowed visitors three days later. He had been assigned to a private suite room, and there was much disturbance in Kinhoshi Hospital as various reporters tried to infiltrate into the hospital to receive news of the Triple Crown jockey. Touya gave a prior warning to his sister and Syaoran. “Remember, Asuma went through a very traumatic accident―he won’t be himself.”

 

The two had pooled their week’s wages together and Sakura had prepared a large bouquet of sunflowers with a card signed by her immediate friends, and Syaoran carried a fruit basket. Sakura and Syaoran stopped short at the door as they heard a vase smashed across the room against the far wall and a ragged voice cry out, “Leave me alone!”

 

A female voice retaliated. “Stop it, Asuma. It’s me. Arima. I’m not going to leave you alone. I’m going to stay right here.”

 

“Why?” Asuma laughed. “Because you feel sorry for me? You broke up with me. You’re no longer my girlfriend. You don’t have to feel obligated to stay by my side. Go. I won’t reproach you.”

 

“Don’t be silly. Of course I have to be here. You’re in pain. If I can feel the pain instead of you, I would gladly do so. But I can’t. So at least, lean against me. For once, let me be here for you.”

 

There was a silence in the room, an indicator that Asuma was no longer throwing fragile objects because he was too weary or because he was glad Arima was there.

 

“Syaoran-kun and Sakura-chan are here,” said Arima, holding the doorknob. “Should I let them in?”

 

“Sure, why not.” His voice was flat.

 

Sakura and Syaoran entered the room timidly. They could see that Arima had been crying―her eyes were red-rimmed and she wore no make-up today. Her hair was uncurled and tied back in a messy ponytail, and she was wearing the same dress she had worn to the race, three days ago.

 

Quickly, Arima wiped her eyes against her sleeves and turned and smiled at the two. “You brought gifts. How nice. You can set them over there.” She pointed to a table already laden with flowers, fruits, cakes, stuffed animals, fan letters and get-well cards. “Oh, be careful not to step on the glass shards over there―I better call a nurse to clean it up.” She was clearly distracted and proceeded to pour herself a glass of water then forgot to drink it all together as she began to pick up the vase shards herself.

 

“You’re going to cut yourself―call someone,” said Asuma with a long sigh as he sank back into his pillows. His head was bandaged, but they were told he had only received a minor concussion and his left wrist was in a cast. He had more bandages around his chest hidden under his hospital gown. A thick blanket covered up to his waist. His bruised cheek was swollen but Sakura was relieved to find that otherwise he seemed to be in a better condition than she had imagined.

 

“Asuma-san, how are you doing?” Sakura said with a bow, suddenly realizing what a stupid remark that was. Of course Asuma wasn’t doing well and was probably feeling horrid.

 

Even though they had overhead Asuma raising his voice for the first time, he still turned to the two youngsters with a civil tone, “Hello Sakura, Syaoran. Thank you for coming.”

 

“I―I’m sorry about your accident,” said Syaoran.

 

“Why are you sorry?” Asuma asked. “It was due to my carelessness. Accidents happen all the time in this line of work.”

 

Sakura wanted to deny that it was an accident; but she had no proof. Besides, what was worse? A random incident or an intentional sabotage?

 

Arima tried to smile. “Asuma, do you want to try these delicious apples that Syaoran-kun brought? Here, I’ll cut them up. Now, where is the knife. It should be here somewhere? Oh, wait, I remember. I was washing it up in the bathroom.”

 

Having retrieved a knife, Arima sat in a corner silently peeling the apples. She was not doing a very good job, and Syaoran offered to take over. She let him gladly and watched Syaoran expertly peel the apples, fascinated as the peel feel into a single long ringlet. Asuma ignored them and watched an orange goldfish circle round and round in its glass bowl, a gift from one of his fans, and didn’t even look up when there was a knock on the door.

 

“My, my, to think I would bump into you here, Syaoran,” remarked a drawl voice from the doorway. Li Leiyun entered with a bouquet of white roses. “It seems like my dear cousin has beaten me in representing the Li’s condolences upon your unfortunate accident.”

 

“Lei!” Asuma looked more cheery than he had a moment ago.

 

“I heard you’re finally accepting visitors today.” Leiyun took the liberty to push aside the other bouquets of flowers and display the roses on the center of the table. “Seems like I came at a bad time?”

 

Syaoran stepped back, apple knife in hand, seemingly shielding Sakura behind his back.

 

Ignoring them, Leiyun took the seat next to Asuma’s beside, hauling out a large shopping bag. “Look, I brought you my favorite manga and anime DVD,” he said. “See, this one is about a paraplegic who gets an automail arm and leg and becomes an alchemist. And then this one is about an ace basketball player who gets hit by a truck and becomes paralyzed waist down and eventually gets into wheelchair basketball. It’s by the same mangaka as Slam Dunk and the artwork is awesome as usual. And this anime is about a mother who develops a neurological disease which inhibits nerve signals from reaching her legs and eventually goes off to create custom-design robot doll with a mad scientist doctor as a means of developing prosthetic limbs.” 

 

The others panicked as Leiyun breeched upon a subject that none of them ventured to speak about. But Asuma merely smiled, flipping through the manga tankouben and remarked, “I remember we used to be crazy about Slam Dunk when we were kids. There was a time when we both practiced basketball like crazy. Now that I think of it, it’s probably my fault that you became such an otaku, Lei. I brought my manga collection over from Japan and got you started.”

 

“So, should I get Jingmei to come over and take a look at your situation?” asked Leiyun. “What exactly did the doctors say?”

 

Asuma stared at the shape of his legs under the wool blanket. “I still haven’t recovered any sensation over the lower half of my body. The doctors told me to give it more time, but it’s not like I don’t have ears. I’ve seen many jockeys before me fall. I’ll probably never gain use of my legs again.”

 

“Don’t talk like that!” Arima interjected. “Nagano-sensei told us that we don’t know anything for sure yet, and your spine needs time to heal.”

 

“Stop Arima,” Asuma snapped. “I’m sick of people telling me everything’s going to be all right when doubt is written all of their faces. I know. I already know what everybody is so afraid to tell me.”

 

Leiyun watched Asuma without shedding any emotion in his eyes. “You had quite a nasty fall. It could have been fatal if you weren’t so well-trained.”

 

“They tell me I should be grateful to be alive. Don’t make me laugh. Why should I be grateful for a life without my livelihood, without freedom to walk about as I please? I am trapped in this body.” And Asuma wrangled his blanket in anguish.

 

Sakura turned pale and glanced at Syaoran. Somehow, she was glad she was here with Syaoran who had a serious expression on his face and seemed to be comprehending the situation; she certainly wasn’t.

 

An ironic smile came over Asuma’s lips. “The probability of a jockey getting into some sort of riding accident each year is pretty high, perhaps a 60% chance. Spinal injury from that might be around 15%, the chance of paralysis from that injury less than 5%, the chance of death from the injury less than 1%. In the two hundred years of organized racing, three hundred jockeys have died. At least three jockeys die a year. I’ve been racing for a decade now, starting out from the Junior Championships. Probability-wise, it all makes sense. I am one of the hundreds of pro jockeys that spend over forty hours a week on a horse.” He gazed up towards the ceiling, as if directing his question to the heavens. “But if everyone has equal opportunity to face accident, why me?”  

 

Why me? The perennial query of those befallen upon misfortune. His pupils were dilated and his voice wavered. “I have worked hard. I have lived honorably to the best of my abilities. There are murderers and thieves and demons living out there. Why do they deserve to walk about and harm others? Yet, why do I have to be punished?”

 

“Asuma…” Arima’s eyes glistened with tears. She too had asked the same question over and over again since the doctors had told her the grim situation. Why Asuma? Asuma was the kindest, most hardworking person she knew. There were riders who mistreated their horses, those who abused their coworkers and peers. But Asuma had always treated his horses as equals and even though he was the son of the owner of the stables, he had never sought for special privileges. He had worked his way up like everyone else, from the lowliest stable apprentice to become a jockey. He had always been generous and humble.

 

Turning around, Leiyun peered at Sakura. “You would think that a Card Mistress as your fan, she would have been able to foresee and prevent the accident,” remarked Leiyun, watching Sakura with his ice blue eyes. “You know that this young lady is the new mistress of the Clow Cards, right, Asuma? I used to talk about how one day I will find the Clow Cards and master them.”

 

“What are they talking about?” mumbled Arima to herself, eying Leiyun warily. Syaoran offered her an apple slice. She took it hungrily―she had not been eating her meals properly the past couple days.  

 

“You’re the Card Mistress. Can’t you do anything?” continued Leiyun. “If you couldn’t predict the accident, shouldn’t you be able to turn back time and reverse it? Or at least try to heal Asuma’s injuries.”

 

Syaoran was well aware of the goading tone his cousin’s voice was taking. “Leiyun, stop it,” he said, setting the apple tray down.

 

“No, I’ll try,” said Sakura. She held out the Heal Card and knelt by Asuma’s bedside, holding out both hands, palms towards Asuma, and concentrated. Beads of perspiration rolled down her forehead. The worst part was Leiyun watching her like an amused cat.

 

Asuma watched her with the slightest bit of optimism in his eyes until he saw that Sakura had turned pale and her whole body was shaking. “Stop, Sakura-chan. You’re pushing yourself,” Asuma said.

 

It was Syaoran who put a hand on her wrist and shook his head. “It’s like with Kai’s bullet wound. You can alleviate the pain with the Heal, but you won’t get rid of the source of the problem,” said Syaoran.

 

The glow around her faded and Sakura hung her head down. “I’m sorry, Asuma-san.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Asuma said with a faint smile. “The pain is better. It’s a whole lot better than being drugged up by what ever those quacks are giving me. My head feels a lot clearer than it has in days and my wrist doesn’t hurt anymore. That’s something. I’m sorry I have to show you such an unsightly side of me. Don’t mind me. I’ll deal with it. But you guys make sure they don’t do anything to Thunderbolt, all right? Father’s set on selling Thunder, poor thing. It wasn’t his fault.”

 

Leiyun laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Hang in there, Asuma. Life is not always fair. It is not always just. Maybe it is the inevitability of things. That’s why humans have a will, the desire to fight against the unfairness of life. The question is, if everything is inevitable, is it possible for us to change it? Or are all our efforts futile?”

 

 

 

Visiting hour ended, and Sakura and Syaoran were ready to leave, when a female doctor with glasses grabbed Syaoran by his shoulder. “Syaoran, I haven’t seen you in ages. Where have you been?” Li Jingmei asked. “I have to check up on your arm. You never finished your rehab sessions.”

 

“My arm’s fine now,” said Syaoran swinging his right arm about to prove his point.

 

“Well, I still have to check up on it. It’s my job,” replied Jingmei. “Follow me to my office.”

 

Syaoran turned and told Sakura, “It won’t take more than fifteen minutes, if you want to stick around a little bit.”

 

“I’ll wait here with Arima-san,” said Sakura, not wanting to leave Arima alone since she looked so distraught. Sakura wished she could give her words of consolation, but she knew not what to say. Leiyun had volunteered to keep Asuma company to give Arima a chance to go home to shower and change.

 

Arima slumped down on the hallway bench, having forgotten why she had left the hospital room. “It’s all my fault,” she whispered. “I should have known Asuma was in danger.”

 

“It’s not your fault, Arima-san,” said Sakura.

 

Ungracefully, Arima blew her nose into a handful of tissue. “All my life, I have always thought, there is time, there is time. There is time enough for me to be selfish and do everything I want to do and for him to win all the races he deserves. And even after, we would have plenty of time left together. Asuma has always been so healthy and sturdy. He never caught a cold―his body’s made of stone. He fell off the horse half a dozen times when we were kids when we first learned jumping, and my heart would sink to my stomach as he lay on the ground. But as I gazed over his head, he would always open his eyes and say, ‘tricked you.’ Even if he fell a hundred times, he would stand again. I thought it would be like that. I thought if I walked up to him and called out his name, he would open his eyes and smile at me and say, ‘tricked you.’ But I’m afraid, he’s never going to open up his heart to me again. Because I told him a very stupid lie. I told him that I loved another person. But that’s not true.” 

 

“I’m sure he realizes that too,” said Sakura. She had seen it. Her friends had seen it. The whole stadium had seen how it had been Arima who had first ran into the tracks at the risk of being stampeded by the unruly stallion in order to get to Asuma. It had been Arima who had accompanied him in the ambulance, and Arima who had been by his bedside for the past three days, never leaving save to use the restroom or taking short naps in between when his parents were there.

 

“No, he doesn’t love me anymore,” said Arima. “If he did, he would have written me a card for my birthday, called me on Christmas, told me he couldn’t break up with me last week. And now, it’s too late.” 

 

“You’re wrong, he was going to propose to you that night at the restaurant!” exclaimed Sakura. Then she realized what she had blurted out and covered her mouth with her hands.

 

“He was what?” A strange look came over Arima’s eyes. “Thank you, Sakura, for listening to me like this,” she said softly. “There’s no one I can talk to. I can’t trust anyone―one little mistake and it’ll go out to the press. And you know how journalists would twist the story.”

 

“Everything’s going to be all right,” Sakura said, gripping Arima’s hands tightly. “I’m sure of it.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Sakura shifted uncomfortably as she waited in the hospital lobby. Half an hour had already passed since Syaoran went off with Jingmei. She took out her cell phone, debating whether or not to send Syaoran a text message. 

 

“What are you still doing here?”

 

Sakura spun around. Leiyun smiled at her. “You weren’t waiting for me, were you?” he asked.

 

She stared up at him warily; she had not forgotten their last private encounter in the school infirmary.

 

“I guess you’re waiting for my cousin Syaoran.” Leiyun didn’t show any indication he was going to leave. “He’s not coming, you know.”

 

“W-what do you mean?” demanded Sakura, her attention completely on him now. Had something happened to Syaoran? Did Jingmei do something to him? Had it been a trap? “Syaoran. Where is he? Did you do something to him?”  

 

Leiyun laughed out loud at her stricken face. “Just kidding.” He stared down at her expectantly. She did not know if his smile was one of polite familiarity or merely him leering at her as usual. “Poor Asuma. He’s the most active person I’ve ever met, and to not only be bedridden but completely paralyzed from the chest down. What a pity.”

 

She shivered. “Why are you laughing, Leiyun-san?”

 

A contorted smile was plastered over his face. “Because, it’s hysterical.”  

 

“What is?”

 

“What is more hilarious than a horseman who can’t ride? Or swordsman without a sword? A magician without magic? A mother who can’t bear a child?” Leiyun leered down at her. “A fortuneteller who can’t change the future?”

 

A sickening chill rippled through her body. “Do you seriously think this situation is funny?” Was this person crazy? What were the words of encouragement, the friendly smile he had given Asuma just moments ago? She tried to circle around him. Just a little beyond the hallway, there were doctor and nurses. She had to escape from this insane person.  

 

He blocked the hallway. “Arima’s got more loyalty than I thought. Or perhaps she feels sorry for him. Can’t kick a cripple when he’s already down, can you?” Leiyun was suddenly solemn. “It’s a miracle Syaoran regained use of that arm. What exactly did you do? How were you able to heal him with that puny magic of yours? Or was it the power of love? It was fun seeing him squirm. Poor magicless, armless Syaoran. A far cry from the golden Chosen One, the destined savior of the Clan.”

 

“Don’t talk about him like that.” She found that she could not move away from him, just like the other time.

 

“Well, let’s talk about poor paralyzed Asuma then.” Leiyun’s silvery eyes were ice cold. “At least if he was killed, he would have gone out with a bang, a young, tragic hero. The media would have gobbled up the story and made him an international legend of the jockey world.”

 

Sakura found herself so repulsed, she was at loss of words. “Wasn’t he your best friend?”

 

“Was he? I don’t recall,” replied Leiyun. “Friends are pretty useless investments. The ones more powerful than you will crush you and the ones less powerful require you to protect them. Riding partners once, I would say. There really was nobody who rode more beautifully than Asuma. Perfect form, perfect athleticism. Perfectionism is always admirable. Too bad all the perfectionism in the world can’t prevent bad luck.”

 

“It was you. You caused that accident, didn’t you?”

 

“Now, why would I do something so meaningless as that? It was bad luck.” Leiyun’s silver-blue eyes glimmered. “It was just his fate.” 

 

“How can a human being be so heartless?” said Sakura, emerald eyes flashing. Until today, she had not known what it meant to utterly abhor a person from the deepest depths of her heart. It was a very unpleasant feeling, especially as this person was Syaoran’s cousin.

 

“What Asuma needs now is not pity or compassion. He needs a scapegoat, someone or something to blame. Anger is an emotion in retaliation to feeling wronged, felling injustice,” Leiyun said calmly, as if explaining to her why the sky was blue.

 

Sakura blinked, unable to conceive where Leiyun was going with the conversation.


“If you didn’t already know, it’s Wrath that started the downward spiral of Chang Ruichi of the Great Five, after all,” continued Leiyun. “First, he was heartbroken when his twin sister committed suicide because of the infidelity of Amamiya Hayashi. Then, he despaired as he found he could not revive her. His desperation turned to anger, and the resentment built up in him, turning him against the other Four. That feeling of wrath festered and rotted in him till he became a being full of only the thought of vengeance against all those who have wronged his sister. He lost sense of what is right and what is wrong. And that blazing desire for justice keeps his soul awakened a century and a half later.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked flatly.

 

“Card Mistress Sakura, have you ever felt true anger? Not a trifle annoyance or indignation, something that can be washed away with a candy or a tongue-in-cheek ‘I’m sorry.’ I’m talking about real rage, fury at the world coming from your guts.” Leiyun scoffed. “Of course you haven’t. You are but a sheltered chick that has barely cracked out of her egg. Do you think you know of pain and death and life and birth and endless suffering and anguish? Even now, though you are proclaimed as successor to Clow Reed, you are sheltered and protected by those around you. Clow Reed did not become the world’s greatest sorcerer because he knew some pretty card tricks and magic spells to make rainbow and flowers appear. His magic was an art, an obsession. He poured a lifetime, and a lifetime for a magician is a long one, into perfecting, finessing, breaking the boundaries of his art. He was a master because he was the best. There was nobody else who could match his passion and fanatic dedication. The reason why he could devote his soul into his magic is because he had a goal, an unattainable wish that he desired to realize. And that unattainable wish is what brought his demise.”

 

“And have you Leiyun-san?” asked Sakura. “Have you felt such anger before?”

 

“There is no Li who hasn’t at one point or another,” replied Leiyun unexpectedly frank. “The Li Clan gives plenty of reason for the unlucky child born of that blood to retaliate. It is human nature to seek for freedom, and no one likes to be caged. At one point, I too might have been full of anger and resentment. But there comes a stage after that, if you can escape from trying to scapegoat everything around you and start looking internally. You learn to let go.”

 

“Let go?”

 

There was a strange placid look that came over his eyes. “Asuma right now feels the heaven has turned its back on him. It is natural for him to feel rage and resentment against every person who walks about freely. Because he has been put into the cage of the limitations of his own mortal body. But he has a strong soul. He won’t lose to despair or fall into the pits of self-pity. For some, anger can fester and multiply in a never-ending cycle of self-hate and hate for the world. But time heals those who will be healed, and those few can escape from that cycle by simply coming to an acceptance, the balance between knowing that you are not at fault and nor is the world. It is but meaningless coincidence.”

 

“Are you telling me his accident was meaningless coincidence, that you were not involved in it?”

 

“I didn’t say that either.” Leiyun smiled thinly. “Did I whisper a spell to make his horse throw him off? That, I did not. But if I was not in Japan and did not request Kara to participate in this certain race then would he still have gotten into the accident? Who knows? That’s the beauty of synchronicity, when seemingly unrelated events occur together in a meaningful way. ”

 

“You’re despicable,” whispered Sakura as she looked up at Leiyun’s contorted handsome face.

 

“Should I tell you who the true despicable one is?” He paced around her, making her queasy. “It’s an even more hilarious little anecdote. My poor little cousin brought back the Memory Card for me after he went to fetch you back from Memoria. Though it pained my heart, he had to be punished because he broke his word. That is the way of the Li. I had Jinyu chain him up in the basement dungeon. Don’t look so horrified―it’s nowhere as severe a punishment as what he would get in the Li Headquarters torture chambers. You should hope you never end up in there―very few live and come out. If Syaoran continued to disobey the Clan, that’s where he would have ended up. But I stray from my story. There he was, tied up in that cold basement of Li Shulin’s mansion, and I took pity on him. You are his Achilles Heel. I thought if I get rid of ‘Kinomoto Sakura’ from his mind, he might become the competent Chosen One he once was. Forget her, I told him. Erase Kinomoto Sakura from existence. You see, you made it so I can’t open the Clow. But I can still command other dark forces so long as I have the Five Force Sword.” Leiyun’s thin lips twisted into a cruel smile. “So, I used the Memory on him. I erased his precious Sakura from his memory. He writhed and cried out in agony. I wonder why, since I was doing him a favor.”

 

If she hadn’t been sick to the stomach before, she was now. “You’re making this up,” said Sakura, glaring at him.

 

“Why would I make something like this up?” Leiyun asked, his blue eyes cold and emotionless. “Have you ever taken a goldfish out of the water and watched it? First it wriggles and flops and desperately burbles its goldfish mouth until its eyes bulge and then all is still.”

 

“No, I haven’t,” she replied frostily.

 

“Too bad. It would give you a better mental picture. He shook and shuddered as if he was being burned alive. And he kept crying out your name, over and over, almost like a broken prayer. Sakura, Sakura, he cried out. Again and again, I used the Memory on him, running the risk of breaking him―he could have been rendered brain-dead with too much force. He squirmed and thrashed till the ropes binding him ripped into his skin and the name he so desperately called out came out in spurts of blood. It was quite a spectacle.”

 

Sakura clamped her hand over her ears. “Stop it! Stop making up stories.”

 

Leiyun’s penetrating silver-blue eyes did not leave her. “‘Do you think I will forget Sakura,’ he said, and I thought he really had broken because he laughed out loud like a maniac with blood trickling down his lips. I wanted to ask him, Why, why do you continue to cling onto the memory of someone who so readily forgot you? But he had already lost consciousness.”

 

With a jolt Sakura suddenly recalled with a jolt that night when Syaoran had fallen ill with the flu. He had been sleep talking and had kept on repeating, I won’t forget, I won’t forget. I could never forget you. And Leiyun watched, always watching, and laughed at her. “You’re not just insane―you’re inhuman,” hissed Sakura.

 

“Perhaps. But I have always had Syaoran’s best interests at heart,” said Leiyun, solemn again, though his tone was mocking. “To you, Syaoran may be one of twelve. But to the Li Clan, he is the one and only. He is our destined Chosen One and savior. There is nobody else who can pull together the Li Clan.”

 

Sakura very well recalled what Kai had said. Li Syaoran was the one chosen to become the Great Elder of the Clan, the position that his father had not lived to take.

 

“Uncle Ryuuren wanted Syaoran to have everything he could not. But you took everything away from him,” continued Leiyun. “His precious time, his discipline, his name, his heart and even his powers. You are the chain that binds him and keeps him from his destiny. You’ve kept him long enough. Why don’t you let him go now?” 

 

She pushing past him and ran, trying to block out that melodic saccharine voice and laughter that resonated down the hallway.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

The graveyard looked evermore eerie in the moonlight but Li Meilin was not in the least bit frightened as she walked through the rows of tombstones. Sure enough, Mizuki Kai was standing at the end of the row with a bouquet of white lilies. She still recalled the first time he had brought her here to this nameless grave. Back then, she had suspected it might be his father’s grave. It had been a gray day, drizzling softly like it was today. He had taken off his sunglasses and that had been the first time she had seen his eyes, a startling gray-blue. At that time, she had thought he had sad eyes and slowly, she felt compelled to know the story behind those eyes. That probably had begun her downward spiral. “I thought I would find you here,” she said out loud.

 

He turned around, pleasantly surprised to find her and not some vengeful ghost at this hour of the night. “What are you doing here?”

 

“You always come here when you have a lot on your mind,” she replied. “I’ve never seen you so worked up about something that doesn’t really impact you.”

 

“You mean Asuma-san’s accident? You seem to be implying that I am a fundamentally selfish person.” Kai was more solemn than jocular as he breathed in a fragrant bouquet of lilies eerily white in the nighttime.

 

“Hey you said it, not me,” said Meilin. No, it wasn’t spooky here in the cemetery. There was a quiet gravity here in the darkness, the only living souls being Kai and her, with the spirits of those who had passed before them bearing witness.

 

“It’s the same old story. My father was blackmailed and cornered into bankruptcy. Yakuza, big corporations, what’s the difference? The Hoshi Group tried to force my sickly mother into signing the deeds off to the house and all our belongings, including the Mirror of Truth, which was what they were after in the first place. I was stupid and thought our troubles would end if we signed the contract and paid off the debt. Of course, I didn’t know any better then. Legally, we were cornered because of a measly piece of paper. We would be thrown out on the streets, and Mother was getting sicker by the day.” Kai paused. “I decided then if the law was not on my side, I would just have to take matters into my own hands.”

 

“So you became a thief?” Meilin got the sense if Kai had not taken the shadier path, he might have been on the road to becoming a purveyor of justice.  

 

“No, I became an apprentice.” Quietly, he set down the flowers by the unmarked tombstone, like he had that day. “Do you wonder who this grave belongs to?”

 

Though she had a good idea who it might belong by now, she let him speak.

 

“He is the other me, the original Kaitou Magician. The mantle that I took over after his death.”

 

Meilin stared at Kai’s side profile, barely visible in dark. He was a creature of the night, who was most comfortable lurking around when everyone else was asleep.

 

“You’re wondering why I’m telling you this,” said Kai, finally turning towards her. “I just wanted you to know. That this grave without a name belongs to a man once called Leon Reed.”

 

There was something different about him today, a quiet sort of resignation. “Is he Kara Reed’s father?”

 

Kai smiled crookedly. “Technically yes. He left her when she was one, and she never really forgave him for that. It’s not like I don’t understand, for I too once lost a father.” Difference was, Tanaka Keisuke had returned but Leon Reed never would.

 

And Meilin thought she finally understood why Kai had so many hesitations about returning to Miho. Because he had firsthand seen someone who did harbor resentment for abandonment. “Rido-senpai is lucky to have someone like you watching out for her back.”

 

“She’s always been on her own,” replied Kai. “She had no family, no friends. If I don’t look out for her, she will have no one. Because her father and mother both basically abandoned her, she doesn’t trust anybody. She’s like a rose whose petals have dried up and is left with all thorns.”

 

Strange, Meilin had once thought that of Kai, that he was someone who had seen too much of the world and regretted it. With his magnificent black cloak and shower of rose petals, he tried to hide a festering heart, a heart that didn’t trust nor love nor care. She had been scared of that side of him, his cynical, cold side that people didn’t seem to notice, that when he smiled, his smile did not reach his eyes, that when he laughed, he wasn’t laughing with but at the world.  

 

“In some ways, she is very much like her father, for Leon-san too had lost all trust of the world. But he was like a mentor, friend and father to me. He taught me pretty much everything I know as Kaitou Magician,” he continued.

 

“How did he die?” Meilin asked quietly.

 

“During a job. Someone ratted out his location to the police,” said Kai. There was a brief look of anger in his stormy gray eyes. “He was shot nine times before he fell over. I was watching from the rooftop where he told me to hideout and keep watch. I couldn’t do anything.”

 

Kai had taken off his shades out of respect. And yet, the mourning gray eyes still compelled her. She couldn’t help feeling a little bit resentful of the Kamura Karin who had known the young Kai who had been pure and untainted by this world. It was a dull throb in her heart as though the nine shots that pierced through Leon Reed as young Kai witnessed it resounded within her.

 

“Meilin, I put a lot of thought into what you told me,” he said slowly. “The reason I keep hiding myself. The truth is, I myself don’t have a sense of who I am. I spent the past six years trying to be what people expected of me. Leon-san was a man who died with so many regrets. I felt helpless, because I couldn’t alleviate any of his burdens from him save promise him that I will protect Kara. I didn’t want to be like him. I lived the past six years with my eyes set on one goal: returning to Miho everything she has lost.”

 

Kai really was trying. Back in the mountains, he had brought her to a shrine where he as a twelve-year-old boy had trained with the spirit of Mizuki Mayura of the Great Five. She half hadn’t believed him back then, but all the pieces of the big mystery that was Mizuki Kai made more sense to her now. Slowly, he was opening up to her. The person by his side today wasn’t Kara Reed nor Kamura Karin.

 

As if he could read her mind, he said, “I told you before, I am an all or none person. There is no denying I did love Kara once and gave it my all. But she is the past. I am who I am today partly because of her.” Kai knelt down and placed a hand on the smooth granite of the tombstone. “I am who I am today because of Leon-san as well.”

 

Meilin placed a hand on his arm. “Leon-san must be glad. There is somebody who remembers him and brings him beautiful flowers. After all, isn’t every human’s biggest fear being forgotten. Looking back and realizing their short time on earth has amounted to nothing?”

 

He smiled slightly and spoke aloud. “Hey Leon-san, remember how you told me go find a girl? This is my girlfriend. Li Meilin. You’ve seen her before, right? She’s short-tempered and nitpicky and thinks all of us thieves are doomed to rot in hell, but I still love her. Do you think she loves me too?” He craned his ears. “I see. You think she loves me too. Well, you must be right, because you’re always right.”

 

“Keep hoping,” Meilin said, nonetheless smiling up at him. Everybody had a past. It was wrong of her to expect to be Kai’s one and only love. There probably would always be a part of his heart for that Kamura Karin of his childhood days, just like she would always have a special spot for Li Syaoran. But together, they were looking forward. Even now, she was not sure if her feelings for Kai would be unchanging, whether he was her one love because she did not know what tomorrow held. But right now, at this moment, she truly loved Kai and wanted to hold onto him with all her might. And perhaps, he did too because he was looking straight into her eyes with his gray-blue eyes, no longer lying, no longer evading the truth, no longer sad, no longer thinking of something else. He was looking at her and only her, and at this moment, it was their hour.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

When she was a child, Sakura used to like coming into her father’s bedroom to stare up at the large portrait of her mother hung on the wall. It was her favorite picture of her. Her mother was barely older than her in this portrait, her long violet hair framing her ivory, heart-shaped face. She wore a dainty white eyelet lace dress and in her hands was a slender twig of cherry blossoms. Despite her youth, her pensive peridot eyes seemed to hold the mystery of life as she gazed out of the glass frame.

 

She could not forget the cold look in Leiyun’s eyes as he told her, You took everything away from him… His precious time, his discipline, his name, his heart and even his powers. You are the chain that binds him and keeps him from his destiny.

 

Li Leiyun had been right. The real despicable person is me for evading my problems because I want to avoid confrontation. Even though I know I am being selfish, I don’t want this world to shatter. Because if it does, then I truly will never be able to see you again.

 

“Okaa-san, what would you do if you were in my position?” Sakura asked the portrait. Once upon a time, her mother had loved a man called Li Ryuuren. How then, she did get over him? And Sakura always returned to the pivotal question of “Who is my most important person?” No, it had never been a question of who but a question of when she would next see him, where they will meet again, what will she say when she finally saw him and why. “Why? Why can’t I be with him?”

 

Because. Because he was Li Shulin’s descendent. Because he was Li Ryuuren’s son, the Chosen One, and the destined next Head of the Li Clan. Because he did not choose her. Because according to the Dark One, there was no place in the space continuum where the two of them could be together.

 

The day I left Hong Kong is the day I gave up. If I tried harder, if I went back one more time to tell you the reason I was there, if I was able to give you my letter, would things have turned out differently? When you become the Head of the Li Clan, will you once in a while think of me?

 

Her mother had written her a letter which she had opened on the sixteenth birthday. Those words had resounded with her, yet, it was difficult to really understand what they meant. “When all else fails you, Sakura, trust your heart. And trust the ones that have always been by your side. There are times in life when you are afraid of trusting, and you end up losing chances. Life is too brief, too transitory to miss a given opportunity simply because you cannot allow your heart to trust. You cannot return to the past, you can’t undo what is already done. All you can do is continue looking forward.”

 

It was strange that somehow, when she had read those words, Syaoran’s face kept flickering in the back of her mind. Maybe that’s what he was doing. Looking forward. And maybe that is what I have to do as well. Because you are my most important person, I have to let you go.  

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Why did you go home by yourself?” demanded Syaoran when he returned home to find Sakura coming down the stairs. “I thought something happened to you. You didn’t even pick up the phone.”

 

“Sorry. Something came up,” said Sakura, staring at Syaoran as if she was desperately try to engrave his face into her mind, just as he looked right now, his amber eyes sparking in annoyance under dark eyebrows that contoured the smooth forehead that peeked out of his ruffled chestnut brown hair, an indication that he truly had been worried.  

 

He was intuitive as usual, as he saw the strange calm over Sakura’s face. “Did something happen in the hospital?” He strode up to her as if to check if she was injured anywhere. “Was it Leiyun? Did Leiyun say something to you again?” he demanded. “Did he?”

 

“No,” said Sakura.

 

“Then why are you looking at me like that?” Syaoran asked.

 

A cool aloofness that he was unfamiliar with came over her emerald eyes as she stared down at him from the stairwell, one hand rested upon the banister. “I was just wondering what you were reporting back to Jingmei-san.”

 

Syaoran stepped back. “W-what are you talking about?”

 

“Did you really fight with Leiyun-san? Or are you here just to spy on me and report back to your family?”

 

He was too shocked to even be outraged. “Is that what you really think? That I’m spying on you or something?”

 

“Then why else are you here?” He didn’t respond. “See. You can’t answer me.”

 

“Leiyun did say something to you.”

 

“This has nothing to do with him,” said Sakura. Her knuckles were white from gripping the wood railing so hard. “Truthfully, I didn’t want to say anything. For old time’s sake. You were, after all, a very good friend. But things can’t stay like this. How long do you plan on staying here?”


She spoke in the past tense. “I know I have lost all right to ask you to trust me,” Syaoran finally said with a sadness in his eyes. “I am not even asking you to forgive me. Just don’t push me away.”

 

“Why did you come back?” she demanded, her voice quavering for the first time. “Everything was perfect before you came.”

 

“Has my being here been such a big burden to you?”

 

“Yes,” replied Sakura, swallowing hard. Why did he look so hurt? Shouldn’t he be relieved? “I wish you can just go back to Hong Kong. You’re supposed to become the next Great Elder, aren’t you?”

 

And Syaoran face turned visibly paler. “Where did you hear that?”

 

“Does it matter?” Sakura averted her gaze. “If you’re going to become the Head of the Li Clan, shouldn’t you be there? What are you doing here?”

 

“Is that what you want me to do?” Syaoran looked her directly in the eye. “Do you want me to return to Hong Kong?”

 

“Yes,” said Sakura. “With Eriol-kun, Kai-kun, Miho-chan, Yukito-san, Kero-chan, Eron-kun and everyone else, I have plenty of help facing the dark forces. You don’t have to worry about me. Go do what you need to do.”

 

If Syaoran had gotten angry at her, then she would have demanded a further explanation from him. Instead, he said as diplomatic as ever, “I apologize for not realizing my presence was causing you so much discomfort. I won’t impose myself on you anymore.”

 

He went upstairs and changed into the clothes he had first arrived in, brown wool trousers, a navy blue cardigan over a cream polo shirt and a camel duffle coat. He didn’t have much to pack and stuffed his belongings into his gym bag. “I guess this is goodbye then,” he said when he came back downstairs. “I am sincerely grateful to you for allowing me to stay at your house. Please send my regards to your father and brother and my apologies for not being able to thank them in person.” He was courteous till the end as he handed her back the spare house key.

 

“Good bye,” was her stilted response. She wanted to tell him to stay safe, to wish him luck, anything to break that awkward silence. But if she spoke, she knew she would betray herself. It was just a simple sentence. Wait. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Those were the simply words that were bursting for the core of her heart. But she didn’t speak. 

 

And the door swung open and closed again. He was gone.

 

 

 

Minutes, maybe hours later, Sakura walked upstairs with heavy feet, in a daze. The house suddenly seemed very quiet and empty.

 

“Where did the Brat go?” asked Kero-chan, hovering over Sakura, who looked like she was at the brink of crying.

 

Sakura slowly walked into her brother’s room. The bed was neatly made, and all the books Syaoran had been reading were returned to the shelves. He had left all the clothes that Tomoyo had provided for him, as well as all the books that Fujitaka had lent him. On the corner of the desk, she saw a folded blue handkerchief. She picked it up. Out tumbled two halves of a cloudy crystal. If she hadn’t been on the verge of tears before, that set off the prickly sensation in her eyes. A loud, shuddering sob escaped from throat. 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Part IV: Found

 

 

 

Li Syaoran trudged down cherry blossom lane with heavy feet, his duffel bag swung over one shoulder. It was still a good month before the trees would bloom again. Last year, he had returned to Hong Kong before he could see the first blossom of the season. Who knew that one year later, he would be in the exact same position, with the same problems. One year ago, Kinomoto Touya had virtually told him that he wanted Syaoran to be nowhere near his sister. “You don’t have your powers now, hence you can’t exactly protect her anymore. In fact, you’d probably end up being a nuisance being by her side in your current state,” her brother had told him. He had wanted to resent Touya then, but he couldn’t, because deep in his heart, he knew what Touya said was true. “Because if you truly care for her, you’d realize that what I am saying is true. And protecting her would be to be as far from her as possible. You’re useless by her side now.”

 

Which was why it was most ironic that it was Touya who had reached out to him first. He still recalled the conversation he had with Kinomoto Touya’s vividly from that day after Christmas. When Touya had discovered him sleeping in Yukito’s bed at the Kinhoshi Hospital resident halls, he had been pretty certain Touya would throw a tantrum. Instead, he had asked, “Do you have anywhere to go?” When Syaoran replied no, Touya had said as casually as if he was inviting him to lunch, “Then why don’t you come stay at my place? I am living in the resident intern housing, so my room at home shall be empty most of the time.”

 

Syaoran had been pretty sure that Touya had gone mad or he himself had gone mad with sleep deprivation. “I have three conditions in allowing you to stay at my house,” Touya had stated. Of course there would be conditions. “First, you will leave as soon as you regain your powers. Second, you will not harm Sakura in any matter, and if you do, I am not only going to kill you, but I’m going to make sure that it is a long, painful death. Third, you will not under any circumstance tell Sakura of the conditions you are staying with us, nor reveal to her the reason of your loss of magic. Do you agree to my terms?”

 

“Yes, I do,” Syaoran had replied grimly to the demon king. What other alternative did he have?

 

Touya had a strange triumphant look in his eyes, and Syaoran then knew he had signed a contract with the devil. “Very well. So long as you’re a part of the Kinomoto residence, you will abide by the rules of the house. It is up to my discretion when I decide you should leave, and so long as you are in this house, you shall follow my authority,” Sakura’s brother had told him.

 

It was unlikely that he would regain his powers, and he had inevitably hurt Sakura though he had not meant to, but at least he hadn’t broken the last condition. Either way, Sakura’s brother would probably be glad to see him gone. After all, perhaps he had been using this arrangement as a distraction, a chance to be with her one last time. Now that he had left the Kinomoto residence, Syaoran found that he was at a loss of where to go. All his acquaintances in Japan were mutual friends with Sakura. But it was cold and at a time like this, he figured there was one place he could go. 

 

 

 

Because Li Meilin had always had faith that Syaoran was cut out to do great things in life, and because she had been Syaoran’s number one supporter since the age of five, she wanted him to succeed. Succeed in attaining what he sought to obtain even at the expense of Sakura’s trust in him. But maybe it was wrong for her to wish this, because in the end, Sakura might end up getting more hurt. When the front door bell rang late in the night, she knew it was him. Because the only other person that would visit unannounced would never use the front door.

 

He stepped in, cheeks flushed from the cold outside with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Immediately, she sensed it. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

 

For some reason, hearing those simple two words from Meilin released a tight spring that had been coiled inside of him and he let out a long winding sigh. “Everything. Everything that has been certain in my life has begun to falter and suddenly, I’ve begun to second-guess myself and question whether the decisions I have taken are indeed the right choice.” His shoulders drooped. “Sorry, I know what I’m saying doesn’t make much sense.”

 

“No, it does,” said Meilin. She placed both hands on Syaoran’s cheeks, forcing him to look down straight into her eyes. “I have been watching over you longer than anyone else. So if there is anyone who should understand, it’s me.”

 

“Even after all the things I did?”

 

Meilin, gaze firm, replied, “I believe in you, Syaoran. I believe when the time comes, you will do the right thing.”

 

Syaoran stared at Meilin in stupor. In this changing, temperamental world, to have just one person who believed in him was a greater strength than having a hundred supporters when times were good. Then he slowly smiled. “Thanks, Meilin.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Today, it wasn’t Sakura but Kai who called everyone to the Fuchu racecourse in a final attempt to find any lead on Asuma’s accident.

 

“What are you hoping to find?” demanded Meilin, covering her nose with a handkerchief while she watched Kai crawl about the stall that had been used by Thunderbolt during the race. “It reeks of horse manure in here, and I’m tired and hungry.”

 

“There must be evidence,” stated Miho. The knees of her corduroy trousers were soiled with dirt and grime, and she was hard at work sorting through the hay used for Thunderbolt. She got up and decided to reexamine the tracks. “There are too many coincidences for this to be an accident.”

 

“What are we looking for?” Tomoyo asked, glancing over at the Tanaka detective pair. There was no denying they truly were siblings.

 

Miho paced the stables, hands folded behind her back, solemn in thought. Without referencing her notes, Miho turned around and faced the three older girls. “On Saturday last week, at 15:33 sharp at the Fuchu Tokyo Racecourse, Tamemura Asuma was thrown off his horse, Thunderbolt, and suffered a mild concussion and a fracture in his spine in two spots. If his fall was not an accident, that must mean that it was a deliberate sabotage. The question is, who, what, when, where and why. According to Aki-senpai’s notes based on rewatching the race clips, Asuma-san was in the lead by half a length over ride number 7, Kara Reed, on Morning Star. Horse number 5 was third, four lengths behind. The only person capable of somehow physically forcing Asuma off the horse was Kara Reed. However, Aki-senpai has clarified that during the race, Kara Reed has shown no suspicious behavior, nor had she laid hands on Thunderbolt or Asuma-san. Of course, this doesn’t cancel out the possibility that she used magic.”

“Kara was not using any magic during the race other than that of the Unicorn,” said Kai.

 

“How do you know that?” asked Miho.

 

Kai replied shortly, “She doesn’t have that sort of power.”

 

“So, what if it’s not magic?” Miho asked.

 

“Then that means it’s deliberate sabotage by human means, though I’m not completely crossing out Kara as a suspect,” replied Kai. “Reviewing the videotapes of the race, exactly 15:32 and 44 seconds, Thunderbolt bolted as if reacting to a sudden attack or surprise. No other rider besides Kara was near Thunderbolt, but she was racing forward without looking back. If it was not magic, then that mean that something else must have impacted Thunderbolt without direct contact.”

 

“How?” Sakura asked, impressed at the Tanaka pair working together for a change.

 

“The possibilities are diverse. Someone could have poisoned Thunder’s food with a slow releasing capsule that can cause a sudden convulsion. However, Thunderbolt has been checked up, and it seems like no abnormal substance was found in his blood nor his water and food. Or, something could have startled him, such as a tiny prick. That of course involves somebody shooting off some sort of projectile mechanism,” stated Kai, pinned a detailed diagram of the race tracks on the wooden wall of the stables. “At the time of the accident, Thunderbolt passed the 2000 meter point and so anyone along this entire side of the track could be a suspect.”

 

Miho nodded approvingly. “Good point. Thus far, the prime suspects are Kara Reed, Li Leiyun, who was also present at the race, Minato Abe, because of his involvement with Arima-san and possibly a third party we are not aware of that did not use magic, as none of sensed any magic right before the accident.”

 

Kai nodded solemnly. “So, the question of why and how still remains.”  

 

Meilin almost giggled. “Miho-chan, when did you first decide to become a journalist?”

 

“I don’t know.” Miho frowned. “I guess when onii-chan and I weren’t playing princess and knight or sorceress and evil earl, we played detective and criminal a lot. Onii-chan would set forth some sort of case and I would play the detective while he gives a bunch of hints to help me figure out the case―okaa-san liked to join in too. She taught us about the Five W’s and H.”

 

For a second, Tomoyo looked thoughtful. “Speaking of evil sorcerers, are we forgetting someone?”

 

“Yeah, the Brat’s obviously not going to come,” stated Kero-chan, peeping out of Sakura’s pocket. “He moved out.”

 

Sakura chose to deliberately ignore Kero-chan and examine the racetracks instead. Miho whispered to Tomoyo as they trailed after her, “What happened now? Did Syaoran-senpai and Sakura-senpai get into another fight? Don’t they get tired of it?”

 

“Apparently not,” muttered Kai.

 

“Where is he staying now?” asked Miho.

 

“I don’t know. He probably returned back home,” snapped Sakura.

 

Meilin, unable to say that she very well knew Syaoran’s whereabouts, walked out of the stables, taking a whiff of the fresh night air. She didn’t know what evidence Kai was so desperate to find. Even though it meant incriminating her family, no matter how much she looked at the situation, Leiyun and his group must have been responsible for it. Was Kai so desperately searching the racecourse for evidence that will vindicate Kara Reed or condemn her?

 

 

 

Sakura’s group had scattered to reexamine the race course. Kai sat up from the stack of hay as he heard footsteps behind him. A tall girl with hair that framed her face like a golden halo stood by the stable entrance. He wiped his hand on his jeans and faced her. “Finally you show your face.”

 

“Why, because the criminal always comes back to the scene of crime? Who’s that idiotic?” She laughed shortly. “No matter how hard you look, you won’t find anything.”

 

Taking two strides forward, Kai grabbed Kara by the lapel of her jacket. “Was it really you, after all? Why did you do something like that? Is this all you’re worth?”

 

Kara peered through the curtain of golden hair that shielded half of her face. Then she smiled pleasantly. “You really think I did it?”

 

“What else would you have been doing in the race?”

 

“Prize money,” replied Kara. It was the typical sort of answer that he himself might have used to evade a personal question. “You see, I’m sick of being dirt-poor.”

 

“You expect me to buy that?” Kai replied.

 

“Believe what you will,” said Kara.

 

“Who made you do it? Leiyun? But aren’t they good friends? Why would he do that?” Kai demanded. “Why did you have to get Akagi Asuma involved?”

 

“You weren’t all this suspicious when you were a boy.” She sighed.

 

“You were using the power of the dark force to win the race,” said Kai.

 

“I can’t help it if my power triggers the Unicorn to go faster,” she replied. “Let go. You’re hurting me.”

 

And Kai realized that her cat-like violet eyes stared up at him in the strange waifish way she had. He cursed under his breath and released her. She smiled up at him impishly. “So, you were defending my innocence to your little friends all the while still suspecting me? What a hypocrite.”

 

“Onii-chan, someone’s looking for you!” called out Miho. She ran into the stables and saw Kara; her gray eyes narrowed.

 

“Kai-aniki, we found him,” called out a booming voicing. Taoka Yoshinori, boss of the Yamamoto-gumi, walked in with his arms crossed purposefully. His long orange hair glowed like flames in the darkness of the alley. “Bring him over.”


Two large men in black suits dragged a shorter man, arms doubled behind his back. Kai walked out of the stables, into the moonlit tracks.

 

“Minato Abe!” exclaimed Meilin. Tomoyo and Sakura glanced between Kara Reed and Kai. 

 

“As you requested, I had my men infiltrate the stables and examine the tracks and horse,” said Taoka. “You were right. My men found this.”

 

A man, disguised in the colors of the Tamemura and Akagi Stables, held out a white handkerchief. Kai opened it and saw a hypodermic needle an inch in length and examined it with his leather-gloved fingers. The man then produced a small shot gun that could fit in the palm of a hand. He examined the barrel and saw that it was designed to shoot out needles, not bullets.

 

Miho whistled. “So we were finding a needle in a haystack.”

 

“What’s going on?” Meilin asked.

 

Taoka Yoshinori, arms akimbo said, “You kiddos can crawl around all day long playing detectives but there is only one way to do things.”

 

“And that is?” Meilin blinked up at the mafia boss.

 

“Torture!” he replied with a booming laughter.

 

Meilin shuddered and saw Minato Abe turn three shades paler. She couldn’t help noticing he was missing three fingernails from his left hand.

 

“Tell again what you told me,” said Taoka, nudging Minaoto Abe.

 

The older man glumly replied, “I had someone hide beneath the stands. When Tamemura Asuma passed by on Thunderbolt, I got him to shoot off a device at the horse’s legs, stunning the horse and throwing off Tamemura.”

 

“What if he shot another rider?” demanded Sakura. “Wasn’t it a risky move?”

 

Minato Abe eyed the green-eyed girl. “Have we met before?” He snorted. “My fate to be interrogated by a bunch of school kids playing detective.”

 

“Answer,” growled Kai.

 

“There was no doubt Thunderbolt is quick―it was an easy shot, knowing Thunderbolt would be in the lead―of course, I wasn’t expecting that blonde girl to have been so neck to neck with him. That almost ruined the plan. But I couldn’t risk it. Tamemura Asuma had to have a zero possibility of winning.” Minato Abe paused.

 

“Why?” Sakura demanded.

 

The balding man snickered. “I would lose the gamble, otherwise. I’d bet all my money Horse #7. It was my last shot.”

 

With a growl, Kai kicked the man in the shins. “You wretched, crawling vermin of a creature. Do you know what you just did? You ruined a man’s life for your greed. For money?”

 

“I swear, I didn’t think he’d get seriously injured!” exclaimed Minato. “I just wanted him to take a little tumble, just so that he would have no chance of winning this race. He’s a Triple Crown winner―it wouldn’t hurt him to lose just one race.”

 

“I don’t want to hear you speak,” said Kai, knocking the man to the ground and grinding his booted heels into the man’s chest.

 

“Stop, Kai, don’t lower yourself,” Meilin said, her voice trembling with disgust. They were all surprised to see Mizuki Kai the pacifist so worked up, and suddenly, she couldn’t help wondering in the back of the mind if Minato Abe was the snitch who had given away Leon Reed to the police.  

 

Taoka Yoshinori drew Kai back. “Don’t worry, Kai-aniki. We’ll deal with him accordingly in the way of the yakuza,” said Taoka with an evil cackle. “Drag Minato along, we’ll take him back to headquarters.”

 

The hefty men dragged up Minato Abe. Minato Abe struggled and turned to Kara who was watching from the sideline, “Hey, Black Dragon’s woman! You promised. You promised that you will make sure I get money. You promised you will protect me!”

 

Kara Reed stared at him disdainfully. “I remember making no such promise.”

 

“You’re on my side, aren’t you?” cried out Minato Abe. “I’m working for you. I can be useful to you.”

 

Briskly, Kara walked up to him and in a low voice said, “I have no use for disobedient traitors.”

 

As Minato Abe reach inside his blazer inside pocket to draw out a pistol, Kara reached over and grabbed his wrist with her left hand with a right hand, drew out a handgun from her garters, pressed it against his forehead. She fired without hesitation. The gunfire resounded throughout the tracks and everybody jumped. Minato Abe crumpled on his knees, wheezing, shaking like jelly.

 

Kara blinked her eyes gleaming uncannily violet in the dark. “Oops. Forgot to load.” With a flick of her golden mane, she walked down the track.

 

“Spawn of the devil!” hissed Minato Abe, writhing on the floor, clutching his heart, otherwise uninjured.

 

Meilin watched Kai’s eyes follow Kara’s footsteps until she disappeared down the racetracks. Was he relieved that it hadn’t been Kara?

 

“What a stylish woman,” sighed Taoka. 

 

“Are you really the new yakuza boss?” asked Miho, craning her neck to address the burly man a good foot and a half taller than her.

 

“And who may you be, lovely young lady?” said Taoka, bending over the petite girl staring up at him with the largest gray eyes.

 

“That’s my little sister, Taoka, and don’t you dare get within ten footsteps of her,” growled Kai.

 

“I didn’t know you had such a cute sister. Now that you mention it, she kind of looks like you when you were younger,” Taoka said with a grin. He stroked the back of his orange head sheepishly. “I’m Taoka Yoshinori. N-nice to meet you. What is your name―”

 

Intervening between the mafia boss and his precious little sister, Kai stated, “She’s twelve, you pedophile! Get away from her!”

 

“I’m fifteen!” retorted Miho with a heavy scowl.

 

“If you ever want to go and get a cup of tea with me, here is my number,” stammered Taoka Yoshinori, bashful as he fumbled for a name card. His underlings hooted.

 

“Way to go, boss!” a burly man said. “Ask her if she’s got any cute friends.”

 

“If I go have tea with you, will you let me take pictures of you and answer all my questions?” asked Miho, her reporter’s eyes gleaming as she realized she had a once in a lifetime opportunity to interview a yakuza boss.

 

“Of course, ‘nee-chan,” Taoka said.

 

Miho grinned. “And will you let me photograph your tattoos?”

 

“Sure,” Taoka said, readily untying the sash of his kimono to bare his torso.

 

“Don’t even think of it,” Kai said, slinging an arm around Taoka’s neck. “If you lay a hand on my little sister, I’m going to slice off Taoka-junior and feed it to your hound dogs.”

 

Meilin and Tomoyo exchanged glances, stifling a giggle.

 

Sakura bowed to Taoka Yoshinori, whom she was still very intimidated by. “T-thank you, Taoka-san, for all your help.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” said the yakuza, waving his hand. “Anything for such a lovely lady as you. What’s your name―”

 

“I wouldn’t if I were you, Taoka. Her boyfriend beat the Black Dragon in a duel,” Kai called out warningly. “And her other one beat that one up.”

 

Again, Meilin and Tomoyo exchanged glances.

 

“That is very unfortunate for me. Well, so long then Kai-aniki. Holler if you ever need me.” Taoka waved at the girls and eyed Kai jealously. Gentile, ladylike Tomoyo, fiery and spirited Meilin, bright and adorable Sakura, cute little sister Miho and charismatic Kara. He sighed gustily. “I would have become a thief if that makes you more popular with the girls!” 

 

“Well, well, this case wouldn’t have been solved without the Tanaka detectives,” remarked Kero-chan.

 

“You two are really amazing,” said Sakura. Chasing after dark forces was one thing, but tracking gang warfare, embezzlement, sabotage and blackmail was in a complete different level. “Everyone, I really appreciate your help.”

 

And Miho turned to her older brother. “Hey, Watson. Mother, father, we’re all waiting for you to come home.”

 

Kai smiled. “Thanks, Sherlock.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

One day, you can be a champion. The next day, you can have it all taken away. Sakura was shocked to see the simple physical difference in Asuma over the course of a week. The Tamemura Asuma she had known had always been smiling with bright turquoise eyes and windblown hair, ruggedly handsome, with a rich, low voice full of vigor and animation. It not just that dark circled lined under his eyes, and he looked aged because of the anguish he was going through. His eyes looked dead cold like a fish. Rather like Leiyun’s eyes. She didn’t realize there was a time she too had looked like that, back when she had fallen into the pits of despair and decided to submit to the Memory. 

 

But to Sakura, he tried to show his best face. “I heard from Leiyun the story.” Asuma laughed shortly. “So I basically got involved as a pawn in the yakuza’s gambling game.”

 

Sakura hung her head down low.

 

“It’s all right, Sakura. Whether it was an accident or intentional sabotage, the effect is the same,” said Asuma. “Though I’m glad that Thunderbolt has been vindicated. Poor Thunder, having to get involved in this mess. I got Aki to make sure Thunder’s getting treated all right though. Or else my father probably would have tried to sell him off. Humans are like that. Blaming, always blaming others. When in fact, it was my fault. If I was a better rider, I wouldn’t have fallen.”

 

“Asuma-san…” Even in this state, he was still thinking of the safety of his horse. Sakura knew she shouldn’t cry when Asuma was making the best out of the situation. But what words could she tell him? She didn’t trust that Leiyun and Kara Reed were completely blame free. But there was no evidence, and would Asuma want to hear that his close friend had been the cause of his accident? That was worse than just sheer misfortune.  

 

Asuma stared down at the blue angora blanket draped over his legs. “Don’t make such a sad face. I don’t mind all my gloating rivals as much as I do those who come here pitying me. I think the worse part of it is not knowing. If I just knew I am crippled for life, than I think I can face it and deal with it. But everybody keeps dangling in front of me the 1% chance of recovery, even partial recovery, and that mocking hope is the cruelest medicine of all.”

 

There was a short knock on the door. “Sakura-chan, you’re here,” said Arima with forced brightness.

 

Sakura was surprised to see a dark frown replace the smile Asuma had been wearing moments ago. “What are you doing here again?” he demanded.

 

“I brought cake from La Seine. Green tea chiffon cake―your favorite,” said Arima, walking over to his bedside, setting the cake on the nightstand.

 

“I told you to stop coming,” Asuma said abruptly.

 

Arima ignored him. “Here, let me slice you a piece of the cake―”


“I don’t want it!” exclaimed Asuma, knocking aside the cake box. It spilled on the floor.

 

Arima looked like she was about to burst in tears, and Sakura said quietly, “Sorry, I’ll excuse myself then…” She crept out the door but could still hear the voices clearly from the hallway. However, she couldn’t leave them fighting. 

 

“I don’t know what game you’re playing at. You said you wanted to break up with me, remember?” said Asuma, staring straight across the hospital room.

 

“That wasn’t what I wanted,” replied Arima. “It’s because―”

 

“It doesn’t matter now,” said Asuma. His voice was wooden. “Truthfully, I was thinking it’s a good idea for us to spend time apart.”

 

“What I told you about Himura-san was a lie. I wasn’t seeing him. I don’t love him,” Arima burst out.

 

“Don’t you think I already know that?” he retorted.

 

She was taken aback. “Then why?”

 

“You tire me. Go away. Just leave me.”

 

“We’ve been spending the past year apart, and it’s been so hard,” Arima said, kneeling by Asuma’s bedside. “From now on, let us stay together.”

 

“I don’t want pity.”

 

“It’s not pity. I love you. I want to be with you.” Arima’s eyes were glistening.

 

Asuma looked up at her. “You want me to believe that? How can you love the likes me? Didn’t you hear? I won’t be able to walk anymore, let alone ride. I’m no longer the jockey Tamemura Asuma. I’m going to be a cripple.” He spat out the word with a vengeful bitterness. “Do you seriously want to be with a cripple?”

 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry about the situation. It pains me because you are in pain. But nothing matters so long as I can be with you,” she replied softly.

 

“Maybe it doesn’t for you. But it does matter for me. I can’t be with you,” Asuma replied in deliberation.

 

“Weren’t you going to propose to me that day at the restaurant?” demanded Arima.

 

Asuma was taken aback. “T-that was then. Everything’s changed since.”

 

“What’s changed? I love you and you love me, don’t you?”

 

“That’s not what’s important,” he snapped.

 

“Then what is? Yes, my answer is yes. It’s always has been and always will be yes. I want to marry you, Tamemura Asuma.” Her eyes were glistening as she reached out to clasp his hands.

 

For a second, Asuma wavered. She looked lovely as always in her cream-colored chemise and navy skirt, her golden hair cascading over her shoulder, alive and bright, so bright she was blinding. “Don’t. Don’t force things. It’s already over.”

 

“Why are you so selfish?” She was desperately trying to hold back tears. “Why do you decide everything by yourself? What about me? Why can’t we go through this together?”

 

“Can you walk for me? Can you be my legs?” he cried out, pushing her away. “You have a great career ahead of you. I can’t bind you down to me. One day, you’re going to regret it. You’re going to wake up and find an invalid when you want a man. So just go away.”

 

Arima stepped forward and slapped him across the face. He glared up at her and she stated, “Stop acting like a spoiled child, Tamemura Asuma. Didn’t the doctor’s say there’s still hope of partial recovery?”

 

“What, a fragment of a percent of chance?” Asuma demanded. “Just face it. I’m paralyzed.”

 

“If there’s even a 1% chance statistically, then isn’t there hope? If we try our best, and it doesn’t work out, then, we’ll just make the best of it.” Her voice was softer now. “I’m just thankful you’re still alive like this, that you weren’t taken from me.”

 

“I’d rather have died,” replied Asuma. “Don’t you see, Arima? If you take away riding, I’m nothing. It’s been my entire life, my hobby, my dream, my livelihood.”

 

“And what am I? Am I nothing?” Arima’s eyes filled with tears. “You’d rather choose death over me?”

 

“Things have changed. I’m not the Tamemura Asuma that you know. I don’t deserve you. You’re right. We should never have dated in the first place. We were too good of friends. We could have left it as a beautiful possibility, unspoiled, a precious memory to treasure. Don’t worry. I’m not an idiot. I’ll manage fine without you. I was thinking of going back to school for a while now, even before the accident. You go on with your life, and I’ll go on with mine.” 

 

And Sakura, through the open crack of the door, witnessed a strange reaction. With almost a maternal instinct, Arima drew Asuma into a tight embrace. Her voice was deep and tender. “Stop saying such hurtful words. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to be vulnerable. Just let me stay with you and share the burden with you, so we can both be a little less scared and a little bit less vulnerable. I will walk for you. I will be your legs, your arms, your heart. I love you Asuma. I want to be with you. You can’t make me leave. So stop fighting me. I am here.”

 

And he was still.

 

“Now’s not the time for pride or silly love games, my dear Asuma,” murmured Arima, stroking his brown hair. “Stop trying to decide things on your own. Stop trying to be so darn considerate. Let me be by your side. Let me just love you and love you till that’s all you need.”

 

He clung to her and sobbed into her chest, washing out the sorrow and despair he felt at the loss of his livelihood and the freedom to move about as he pleased, then in solace for having his most loved person to cry with him and share his grief. And Asuma in a sigh of relent murmured, “Why? What did I do to deserve you by my side?”

 

With a misty smile, Arima raised her voice, almost as if she knew Sakura was listening, “Once, when I was seven, I was lost in the woods. It was nighttime and raining. I was cold and scared, and I thought nobody will ever come find me. But you came, riding a white pony. I don’t think I will ever be able to erase that image from my mind.” Sakura smiled softly. She remembered this story very well from the first time she heard it. “I’m not going to let you go a second time, because I love you, Tamemura Asuma, and I’m proud to say it. So will you marry me, Asuma? I can’t cook or do laundry or clean. But I promise I will love you with all my heart.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“How is Asuma-san doing?” asked Tomoyo, pouring Sakura a cup of tea in her parlor.

 

“Arima-san is strong.” Sakura smiled. She admired Arima for her honesty and perseverance. “I envy how forthright she is. Because it’s Arima-san and Asuma-san, I’m sure the two of them will be all right together.”

 

“I think you’re right. The two of them are very special.” Tomoyo paused for a while, hesitating. “And how about you Sakura-chan? Can you not forgive him now?”

 

For a second, Sakura looked stricken, and Tomoyo regretted asking. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Syaoran. Even now, you can’t forgive him. Because you are still angry.”

 

“I am not angry at him,” said Sakura unconvincingly.

 

“Have you even tried asking why Syaoran left Japan, why he decided to come back?”

 

Sakura replied, “I have.”

 

“Really? And were you really ready to listen?”

 

And Sakura was silent.

 

“If you want the truth, why don’t you ask the person in question directly instead of driving him away?” Tomoyo paused. “It’s natural. You don’t want to trust Syaoran because you don’t want to be hurt again.”

 

Sakura shook her head. “No, that’s not it. That’s not it at all.”

 

Tomoyo prodded gently, “Then what is it?”

 

“I can’t let him know.”

 

“Let him know what?”

 

“Let him know the truth,” she whispered. Watching Arima and Asuma had taught her something. Words and actions could distort the truth. The only thing to rely on was that resonant voice in your heart, the one that tells you to have faith no matter what. “He can’t know. I’ve been waiting and waiting and hoping he would return. I never stopped hoping he would. And then, I realized he can’t. That even if he does, he won’t be the Syaoran I remember. So I forgot. I erased him from my memory because it was too painful.”

 

“What was the real reason you did that?”

 

“Because I was weak,” she said.

 

Tomoyo shook her head. “Because you were scared. You didn’t want a repeat of what happened to the Great Five.”

 

Sakura had learned not to be taken aback by Tomoyo’s sheer sense of insight but suddenly, she felt relieved to share it with her best friend.

 

“So what are you true feelings now, Sakura-chan?” Tomoyo asked gently. “Are you ready to forgive Syaoran-kun?”

 

“There is nothing to forgive,” said Sakura. She had tried to forget it, and that had been a failure. She had tried to find somebody else and that had backfired. Finally, she had tried to simply ignore it, but it was impossible. “The truth is…” In a bare whisper, Sakura said, “The truth is, I love Syaoran.” And speaking those words out loud felt strangely liberating, as if she shouted it out loud from the top of a mountain summit. That’s right. Why had it been so difficult to articulate these words? All this blur of emotions, the anger, the reproach, the pain, the sadness, beneath all this was this unwavering certainty that she was sure she will never forget again. The true reason why she could never return Eron’s feelings. “I never stopped loving him all these years.”

 

Tomoyo looked up to her best friend and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Then why didn’t you let him know?”

 

“I can’t,” said Sakura. “Because I don’t want to burden him. It is as Leiyun-san said. I do not want to bind him to me. He has many important things to do, but he’s so kind-hearted, he’d surely be troubled if I do something like that. That’s why I’ll never let him know.”

 

“But that letter you wrote to him in Hong Kong,” said Tomoyo. Sakura had gone all the way to the Li Clan main headquarters to deliver it to Syaoran, unsuccessfully.

 

“I threw it away, remember?”

 

Tomoyo guiltily recalled that she had retrieved it from the hotel room wastebasket. “If you had given him the letter, would anything have changed?” she said.

 

With a bittersweet smile, Sakura asked, “What would a piece of paper change?”’

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

With a deep breath, Mizuki Kai stepped into his house awkwardly. Will there ever be a day when this place would feel like “home” again? Truth was, he no longer knew what home was supposed to feel like.

 

“Mikai-kun, are you back?” came his mother’s voice from the kitchen, as if she had been expecting him. “Eriol-kun brought over some delicious beef goulash that I reheated in the microwave.”

 

“Okaa-san, I seriously think you were happier to be living with Eriol-kun than here with us,” remarked Miho, taking a seat at the dining table, nose buried in the newest issue of Seijou Times.

 

“I can’t get the perfect shade of green,” bemoaned Tanaka Keisuke, emerging from his attic art studio, holding up a palette. “Miho-chan, which shade do you think is better? This deep pine green or this vivid pea green?”

 

“They both look the same to me,” replied Miho.

 

Miara, in a matronly white apron, quite uncharacteristic of her, came out of the kitchen, cheerier than she’d been all week. Then she gasped. “Mikai-kun, what have you done to your hair?”

 

Miho glanced up from her newspaper without flitting an eye. Her brother stepped into the kitchen, in all his former rebel punk-rock glory. He was dressed in tattered black jeans, black combat boots and a black shirt sprayed with the graffiti “No Future, No Life.” His hair was spiked, though fortunately it was no longer blue, and his silver fang earrings glimmered from his ears and both periwinkle studs were lined up on his left ear, above the fang.

 

Tanaka Keisuke actually set his paints down and eyed his son skeptically. He had often wondered if “Mizuki Kai” was the mask and “Tanaka Mikai” the real deal, or if actually, “Tanaka Mikai” had become the mask. He had guessed rightly in the latter. 

 

Turning to Miho, Kai stated, “Miho. I should have told you this from the beginning. Instead, I’ve been a coward. I made a promise to myself that I will restore everything that I had lost in my life. But in life, everything comes with a price. The price I paid to restore everything to the way it was before for you was my relationship with you. But I thought it was okay. Mother, father, the house; I thought if everything returned to the way it was before, it would be all right. But it was my hubris thinking that everything I did was for your sake. I apologize for that. It was actually for me.”

 

Miara tried to speak up, but Keisuke gripped her arm and shook his head, letting the two siblings sort out their differences.

 

More boldly now, Kai continued, “Somewhere along the way, I realized it was all an illusion. I was trying to reconstruct something that was already gone forever. The house may look the same, but it’s simply a replica, not the genuine thing. And we are not the same as we were six years ago.” He paused and a pained look drew over his eyes. “The fact is, I abandoned you when you were in your time of deepest need. I couldn’t be by your side then because I could not trust myself to be strong, to not falter and be the older brother that you expected of me. I was so afraid of disappointing you. So I ran away.”

 

“But you returned,” Miho whispered. “That is all the past. I forgive you. I have forgiven you a thousand times over for that.”

 

“There are deeds I have done in the past that I am not proud of.” Kai looked straight up at his parents, without that forced bright smile that had been pasted on his face the past weeks. “Mother, father, there is something I have to tell you.”

 

“W-what is it, dear?” asked Miara, thinking all sorts of horrible thoughts, ten times worse than anyone else would imagine because she was both a mother and a writer.

 

In a staid voice, Kai stated, “I tried my best to live up to your expectations as Tanaka Mikai, your son. But that person doesn’t exist anymore. I’ve done everything you would have taught me not to do. I have stolen and lied, blackmailed, gambled, extorted, kidnapped and broken every other civil law code.”

 

Keisuke blinked. “Is that all you have to say?”

 

Hesitantly, Kai added, “I was once on the International Most Wanted List. And I flunked a grade.”

 

Miara and Keisuke exchanged prolonged glances.

 

Finally Miara stated, “Well, thank goodness. I was wondering how, between two intelligent, innovative and inspired people like your father and I, we ended up with such a dull, boring, uninspiring son.”

 

Kai’s jaws dropped.

 

“Are those piercing real?” Miara asked, reaching over and tugging on the fang earrings.

 

“Goth, son, really?” Keisuke said, circling Kai. “It’s just so clichéd for teenagers. And really, with your complexion, black really isn’t your color.”

 

“Glamorous punk rock,” Kai protested. As if fashion was the worst of his crimes.

 

“Look who’s talking, Keisuke-san,” snickered Miara. “Don’t you remember when you got into Visual Kei and grew out your hair? Completely clashing with your nerdy looks―and how you used to badger Ryuuren-san to pick up the guitar and form a band when you are utterly musically talentless.”

 

“Don’t remind me―I thought it would make me more popular with the ladies,” groaned Keisuke. “What hair gel did you use to get your hair to stick up like that, Mikai―I know how difficult it is with our hair texture.”

 

“It’s a special wax imported from France,” replied Kai.

 

“Goodness it was hard keeping your Kaitou Magician secret from your mom―she’s so nosy,” stated Keisuke, rolling his eyes.

 

“I knew it. Mikai-kun was Kaitou Magician?” squealed Miara, clapping her hands together. “I’ve been a subscriber of the Kaitou Magician Fan Club since I was at the hospital. The only thing that kept me semi-conscious, really. Kaitou Magician is my muse for my novel!”

 

Keisuke cleared his throat. “I always thought Kaitou Magician rather resembled myself in my younger days. I was quite popular in university among the ladies after I dressed up as Zorro for the campus cultural festival.”

 

“As if you were ever that charismatic and stylish,” scoffed Miara. “And you’re so clumsy, Keisuke-san, you’d trip over your cloak.”

 

“Okaa-san, otou-san!” Miho exclaimed aghast. “You’re not supposed to condone criminal activity!”

 

Miara nodded. “Of course not.” She turned to Mikai seriously. “So, what did you do with all the jewelry you stole?”

 

“Okaa-san!” Miho scowled. “What happened to that integrity of an investigative journalist that you always told me to uphold?”

 

“All right, all right” sighed Miara. “Well then, Mikai-kun, when are you going to cosplay as Kaitou Magician for me?”

 

Keisuke turned to his wife. “It’s not cosplaying if it’s his actual occupation.”

 

“Onii-chan has retired already as Kaitou Magician!” Miho stated.

 

“Retired?” Miara’s eyes rounded. “Why?”

 

“To return to being a dutiful son,” replied Kai solemnly.

 

Miara shrugged her shoulders. “Your father and I wanted to raise you to feel free to do whatever you wanted to do.”

 

“True,” nodded Keisuke. “You can’t force yourself to do something you hate. I found out the hard way.”

 

“I’m sorry Keisuke-san,” said Miara, leaning her head against her husband’s shoulder. “If only I knew how unhappy you were as a salary man.”

 

“From now on, let us carry out a Bohemian lifestyle and just do whatever we want to do,” said Keisuke. “Do you want to go to a tropical island and enjoy the evening sunset, just the two of us, Miara?”

 

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” replied Miara, looking into her husband’s enamored eyes. “We deserve a second honeymoon after our long separation.”

 

And Kai, after all these long years, just came to accept that insanity ran in the family. “I have a luxury condo in the Bahamas,” he suggested.

 

“Is it stolen?” Keisuke asked curiously.

 

“I heard Kaitou Magician has a private helicopter,” Miara remarked.

 

“A jet and a yacht as well,” Kai said.

 

“Well, that settles it,” said Keisuke, whipping out a pair of aviator sunglasses from his pocket.

 

Stamping her foot down, Miho cried out, “No, no, no! Otou-san, you need to finish off your exhibit pieces. Okaa-san, your editor wants to see a rough draft of Chapter 14 by the end of the week. Kai-senpai―” Miho broke off, glancing over her brother. It was still hard to accept that Mizuki Kai aka Kaitou Magician was her brother. But as hard as it was to get used to this fact, she could get to know him again, step by step. “Onii-chan, can you help me with my homework tonight?”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Onii-chan, what are you doing here?” asked Sakura, jumping as she saw the towering figure in the kitchen.

 

“I heard you’ve been involved with the yakuza again,” said Touya with a frown as he brewed himself a cup of coffee. “I understand you wanted to help out Asuma, but there are things you shouldn’t meddle in.”

 

“Taoka-san seems like a pretty nice guy,” relied Sakura nonchalantly.

 

“Taoka? Not Taoka Yoshinori, the guy who got appointed seventh oyabun of the Yamamoto-gumi?” Touya said, recalling the mafia brawl earlier that month.

 

“Yes him,” said Sakura. “Really, onii-chan. One of my best friends is a world-class thief, another is the Dark One reformed, and another is the reincarnation of Clow Reed. My best friend has four personal bodyguards, my stuffed animal is actually a 200 kilogram fire-breathing beast and your best friend is a flying energy-manipulating archer. I don’t know why you worry so much.”

 

“I have to admit, Li Syaoran might be one of your more normal acquaintances,” Touya mumbled. “Speaking of which, where’s the Brat? His stuff seems to be gone from my room.”

 

“He moved out,” said Sakura dully.

 

“Why?” Touya frowned. “Did you fight with him?”

 

He was greeted by his little sister’s glowering face. “Where did he go then? Does he have anywhere to stay?” Touya demanded.

 

Sakura glared up at her brother. “Onii-chan, you’ve been acting really suspiciously the past month as well. It’s almost like you’re hiding something from me. Why are you always taking his side?”

 

“I’m not!”

 

“You are! You know how hard it has been for me to see him every day for these past weeks? Yet, why would you invite him to our house?”

 

“God, Sakura, do you really not get it?” said Touya, his hand covering his eyes. “I really despise that I have to be the one who says this.”

 

Her voice was wooden. “What are you talking about?”

 

Touya hesitated before continuing with conviction, “Last year, when you sealed the Plague, you burned through all your magical powers and were on the brink of death.”

 

What was her brother driving at?

 

“He gave up his powers to save you.”

 

There was a heavy thud in her chest. “What?”

 

“Didn’t you think it was strange that you suddenly switched from the power of the stars to the power of the moon? That’s right, he transferred all his powers to you. Otherwise, you would never have woken up from the coma. You were supposed to have died when you decided to seal the Plague and heal the greater Kanto area single-handedly. But you fell into a comatose state instead because Li Syaoran was by your side and sustained your life-stream. For a week, I thought I was going to go crazy, not knowing whether my little sister was going to live or die. Then Hiiragizawa Eriol suggested that there might be a way to save you. Someone of equivalent power to you would have to transfer their powers to you. I would have done so, but my powers would not be near enough to wake you let alone continue to sustain you. Li Syaoran decided to give up his power on the spot without any hesitation. It was a risky move; if your powers were incompatible, both of you could have died.” Touya broke off.

 

A hand went to her mouth. “Is that why…is that why he left Japan? Because he gave up his powers for me?”

 

“It might partially be my fault,” Touya admitted gruffly. It was more difficult to admit it than he thought it would be. “I told him to stay out of your life. It was perhaps my selfish desires as a brother, but it was my honest desire to protect you.”

 

“You told him… to leave?” Her voice was hollow and her eyes blurred. “He gave up his powers for me, and you told him to leave?” Then, she recalled walking into an argument between Syaoran and her brother that one night at the hospital, not long after she had waken from the coma. Syaoran smashed his fist through the glass door behind Touya without actually hitting him. That’s right. It was the arm that had been bitten by the Plague. That arm that had taken almost a year to fully recover―was that also because he had given up his powers? Was that why he could no longer be Chosen One? Is that why he was back? Did he hate her now for taking away his life, his title, everything he had worked up to for sixteen years?

 

“I’m sorry. Back then, I nearly lost you. I was scared. I should have acted more maturely,” said Touya. And he came to a realization that the person he should be apologizing to was Li Syaoran. Or perhaps that’s what these past weeks were―an indirect apology.

 

“Why didn’t anyone tell me, all this time?” Sakura gripped her brother’s sleeves. “Don’t tell me… Tomoyo-chan, Kero-chan, Yue-san, everyone knew and didn’t tell me? Why?”

 

Touya couldn’t meet his sister’s eyes.

 

“How could you do this, onii-chan? Was this a game to you all this time?” Sakura broke off. Tears streamed down her face. “Leiyun-san was right. It’s me. I’m holding him back. I have to return his powers to him!”

 

“That’s exactly why he told us not to tell you!” exclaimed Touya, shaking his sister by the shoulders. “Because if you knew you that you had his powers, you would try to return it to him. Don’t you understand? You almost died, Sakura! You need those powers to survive―” But his words were lost as his little sister had already spun around and sprinted out of the door.

 

He heaved a long sigh of a brother troubled by the signs of a little sister growing up but liberated from his guilty conscience.  

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Li Meilin blinked curiously as she opened her front door to see Sakura panting, face flushed, her golden-brown hair tangled and flying about in all directions. “Sakura-chan! What are you doing here?”

 

“Syaoran! Is Syaoran here?” Sakura asked in gasps.

 

“No, he’s not―” Meilin wasn’t given an opportunity to finish her sentence.

 

Sakura was already running down the hallway to the elevators. The elevator was stuck on the first floor, and pacing, she finally took the stairs.

 

With a sigh, Meilin muttered to herself, “He’s not in right now, but will be back in a while.” She then shrugged. “Besides, if it’s that urgent, she has his number; why can’t she just call him?”

 

Leaving Syaoran’s apartment, Sakura looked back and forth. Which path to take? School or town? She decided school, which was closer.

 

It was Sunday, so the school was mostly empty except for the soccer team and members of the math club preparing for the mathematics championship. “No, Li-kun didn’t come to soccer training today,” Yutaka Ichiro told her, holding a soccer ball under his arm.

 

She checked the classroom then his shoe locker. His shoes were still there. On her way out, she peeped into the music room, which was empty. A music score was left open on the stand. 

 

The sky was overcast as she ran down cherry blossom lane again. Her mind was a jumble of voices and fragments of thoughts that she couldn’t seem to piece together. Her brother telling her, “He gave up his powers to save you.” Eron’s detached words that haunted her yet, “Our time is finite. Humans are finite. Hence, I am only human, so my patience is finite.” Brooding Kai stating, “Do you seriously think one of Syaoran’s ambitions will be content with just being the Chosen One, the puppet of the Li Clan? Rumors say that the Great Elder’s successor will be him.” Yukito-san with his warm smile. “When you have found your most important person, don’t just become a passive observer. Fight for that person. Because if you don’t, you will have lingering regrets for the rest of your life.” Gentle Tomoyo with a frown on her brows, asking, “If you had given him the letter, would anything have changed?”

 

“Why can you forgive him for being the Dark One, our enemy, yet can’t forgive me for being a Li?” he had asked her imploringly. You’re wrong, Syaoran, you’re wrong. I’ve forgiven you a long time ago. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave.  

 

I’m sorry Syaoran, I’m sorry for taking so long to notice. I’m sorry for not listening with my heart. I’m sorry for not trusting you.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Thanks for your help today,” Chef Nobuhiro told Li Syaoran, wiping his wet hands on a towel. “I don’t know how I managed before you came along. But tell me, why did you ask to switch all your work hours to days that Sakura-chan has off?”

 

With a polite smile, Syaoran bowed his head and replied, “I’ll see you next week.”

 

He took a detour around the town, avoiding the usual hot spots for the Seijou kids, just in case. The sweet low melody of an alto saxophone caught his ears, a strangely soothing sound, and he walked towards the town circle. There, a lone saxophonist blew out a tune with liquid fluidity as he swayed with the rhythm of the music. It would be nice to come back some day with Sakura, and listen with her from the benches while eating crepes from the stand in the corner. He bent over to drop all the coins he had in his pockets into the open saxophone case. And he walked on, passing by families taking a Sunday stroll, couples out on a date, fathers with strollers, mothers with grocery, kids running up and down the streets and an occasional elderly person watching from the benches with a nostalgic smile. He passed by King Penguin Park, where children shrieked gleefully as they slid down the great slide as their mothers watched on nearby.

 

Then, he finally walked up to the blue gabled house painted yellow with a white fence. He timidly rang on the front doorbell of the Kinomoto house. There was no answer. He rang again.

 

Kinomoto Fujitaka opened the door, in a business suit, just home from a seminar. “Why, Syaoran-san. Come on in, come on in.” And Syaoran found himself escorted into the kitchen with a steaming cup of tea in his cold hands in a matter of seconds. It seemed like both Sakura and Touya were not home. “Sakura-san and Touya-san are both out, unfortunately.”

 

“Actually, I just came to pick up a few things I left behind,” said Syaoran, fidgeting. “I apologize for not being able to properly thank you for taking such good care of me the past month and a half.”

 

“What are you talking about? It’s me who feels indebted. You’ve been such a help around the house. It’s been a pleasure having you here, Syaoran-san. Touya and Sakura both have relied on you a lot as well,” said Sakura’s father with a sunny smile.

 

Syaoran bowed his head. “Thank you very much for everything.” One of the best things about living here was for a brief while, feeling what it would have been like with a father, especially one as caring and considerate as Kinomoto Fujitaka-sensei. “I-I really enjoyed our talks about ancient civilizations.”

 

“I did as well. You should come by my office when you get a chance to borrow those books on Mausoleum of Halicarnassus that you showed interest in last time,” said Fujitaka. “And of course, you are always welcome at this house, Syaoran-san.” 

 

Feeling a lump in his throat, Syaoran nodded. “Thank you, Kinomoto-sensei.”

 

“Do you have an adequate place to stay?” asked Kinomoto Fujitaka. “I understand you must be used to taking care of yourself, but I suppose it’s a parent’s heart to worry when a child is living alone. I left home when I was a little older than you, so I have an idea what it’s like. It was tough the first couple years. But I don’t regret leaving home for one moment because it brought me here to where I am today.” He glanced over to the framed photo of Nadeshiko in a beautiful spring green pinafore. Then, he fumbled through his pocketbook and produced a white envelope.

 

Syaoran stared at the bulging envelope and realized it was filled with money. “W-what is this?”

 

“It’s the money you earned from your part-time job at the restaurant,” replied Fujitaka. “I think you will be needing it.”

 

“B-but I gave it to Touya-san to pay back for his motorcycle reparations.”

 

And Fujitaka smiled knowingly. “Sakura-san insisted on paying for the reparations herself―I was wondering why she suddenly did take up a job. Touya asked me to deposit your wages in a bank account under your name, but I didn’t get a chance to since you ended up leaving so abruptly.” He looked a bit worried. “Touya-san hasn’t bullying you too much, has he? I apologize on his behalf; it is his way of showing affection.”

 

Syaoran doubted that very much. “But why did Sakura…” He was at loss of words as he stared at a month’s worth of wage in the envelope.

 

“You will have to ask her yourself,” was Kinomoto Fujitaka astute reply.

 

As Syaoran bowed and excused himself incoherently, Fujitaka called out, “Wait, take this.”

 

Startled, Syaoran caught the green umbrella with one hand. “This is…”

 

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” said Sakura’s father. “Take it with you. It’s going to rain today.” 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

The town was bustling with people, and Sakura walked past the familiar shops. She passed by a telephone booth. It was not too long ago Syaoran had helped her reunited Rika and Tanaka-sensei here in this very town circle. The saxophonist was playing again today, and he seemed to recognize her, giving her a little nod of his head as he played a familiar tune from a movie she once seen. Little drops of rain began falling from the sky. First a drop, then two. She had to find him. I want to tell you… I want to shout it… Finally, she stopped below the green awning of a small building at the end of the street. Perhaps he was at the restaurant.

 

“What are you doing here, Kinomoto-san?” asked the manager, surprised to see Sakura so disheveled. “It’s not your shift today, is it?”

 

Sakura peeked into the kitchen.

 

“Looking for someone, Sakura-chan?” asked the Head Chef.

 

Sakura jumped. She was surprised that the Chef knew her by name.

 

“Li-kun already left,” he remarked.

 

And Sakura blushed, stammering, “I-I wasn’t looking for him.”

 

Chef Nobuhiro smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’ve been watching you for a while. You’re a good kid. Lots of teens this age, they are just driven by materialistic desires. Cooking, culinary arts, is my expression of love. I think you and Li-kun understand that. You have good work ethic, hard to find in kids these days.”

 

At this, Sakura stared up at the cook.

 

“Li-kun is such a steady dependable kid. You don’t find the likes of him often in youths these days,” remarked Chef Nobuhiro. “Which is why I was surprised when he just disappeared last winter without any notice. I would have thought at least he would have let us know if he planned on quitting. It was very unexpected coming from him, though I understand with his broken arm and everything. But I guess all is well since he’s returned. I was really worried something had happened to him. I wanted to ask him what happened last year, but I guess it’s not my place to ask.”

 

Sakura frowned. Syaoran had just one day decided not to show up to work? That was not like him. Because she knew Syaoran was a responsible person. After all, he had handled all the paperwork for withdrawal from school. Or had he? Perhaps he had not left Japan voluntarily. That made more sense. He would not have left without saying goodbye. But why then, did he ignore her in Hong Kong? If he had been taken to Hong Kong involuntarily, there had been so many opportunities to tell her this ever since he had returned to Japan. Syaoran, why didn’t you tell me? Did you hate me for taking away your powers? Could you not stand being near me because it was a constant reminder to you?

 

It was steadily drizzling outside now, but she didn’t notice. She didn’t notice that the mud sloshed into her shoes and that her ribbons had become unraveled from her hair. She bent over for a moment, to catch her breath. Calm down. Concentrate. Where is he? Sakura thought of Syaoran waiting in King Penguin Park that when she had been turned into a child by the Age two autumns ago. “Meet me at King Penguin Park, at noon. I’ll be waiting there, whether you come or not,” he had told her. She had doubted him, but there he had been there waiting on this same wooden bench, even though she had been six hours late. He was that kind of person, the kind who would arbitrarily wait for hours without any trace of common sense. Just a few months ago, she had asked Syaoran to meet her at King Penguin Park at 6 so that she could return his essay to him. He had misunderstood and showed up at 6 p.m. instead of 6 a.m. Every day for a week. “What if I didn’t show up today? What would you have done if I didn’t come?” she had demanded. And his answer had been the same as always. “I would have waited all night until you did.” And he had been waiting on the park bench through the last hours of Christmas. When she showed up, she remembered that gentle smile on Syaoran’s lips, not angry at all, as if he hadn’t been sitting in the cold for hours.

 

Idiot. How was I supposed to know you were waiting? What happens when we’re both waiting? Then who takes the first step?

 

She ran towards King Penguin Park. The giant blue penguin which had seemed so huge when she was a child seemed lonely, standing guard alone in the empty park. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere. She had been to all the places he could have been, the public library, the bus station, even the grocery store. Surely he had not returned to Hong Kong already. King Penguin Park had been her last guess. She stared up at the gray sky and the rain pelted down on her face with a vengeance. She didn’t know where else to look since she had checked all the other locations. She headed towards the creek, towards the park bridge, dejected.

 

In a letter she had once written to him and never sent, she said, You might laugh when I say this, but when I was in that coma, I think I awakened because I heard your voice calling me. It could have been a figment of my imagination, but then, I can’t help asking myself, out of everybody, why is it your voice that I heard?

 

She looked up, across the span of the wooden bridge. There, on the opposite end, stood a boy, his face shadowed by a green umbrella. She didn’t have to see his face to know it was him. One hand was buried in the pockets of a navy blue jacket, and as the wind blew back his umbrella, she could see the look of surprise in his amber eyes through his tussled glossy brown hair. The creek, swollen by the rainwater, trickled rapidly below. For a long while, they stood on the opposite ends of the bridge, facing each other, not moving.

 

Finally, she called out, “Syaoran!”

 

He hesitated. Was he going to turn around? No, please don’t leave! For a second, it was a déjà-vu of that day at the harbor in Hong Kong. She stepped onto the bridge. The wood creaked beneath her feet. Her face was flushed a deep pink. If he was surprised she had run out into the rain without a jacket or an umbrella, he didn’t comment. She was so short of breath, she could barely croak out his name. Taking a deep breath of air into her lungs, she shouted out, “Wait, Syaoran!” Her voice echoed through the woods.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

An unexpected friendship had blossomed over the years between two girls, as different in personality as could be, due to their respective best friends being too busy to hang out with them. Daidouji Tomoyo and Li Meilin leaned back in the comfortable leather cushions in Tomoyo’s home theater, sipping hot chocolate, perfect for a rainy day, and snacking on pastel-colored macarons from Paris. They had been in the midst of screening a marathon rerun of her old clips of Card Captor Sakura episodes and the watched the scene in which Sakura wrapped a green scarf around Syaoran’s neck and he blushed beet red. The two sighed in unison.

 

“They used to get along so well,” Tomoyo mused.

 

“I wonder why they can’t just admit that they like each other. Everybody else can see it―why can’t they?” Meilin stated.

 

“Well, they do have many misunderstandings to clear through,” Tomoyo reflected.

 

Meilin said knowingly, “It doesn’t help both of them suffer from the younger sibling complex.”

 

“Younger sibling complex? What’s that?” asked Tomoyo.

 

Smirking, Meilin replied, “You see, Kai, as irresponsible as he seems, in the end really tries hard to cater to my whims and apologizes first when I am mad and tries his best to make amends, because he is used to being the older brother figure. But both Sakura and Syaoran are the younger siblings with a considerable age difference, the baby of the family, and are used to getting their own way. Hence, they are both unbelievably stubborn and equally relentless when they get into an argument.”

 

“I see,” said Tomoyo, an only child. “I never thought about it that way.”

 

“Not to mention, they both have leadership personalities. Syaoran doesn’t look like it because he’s such a lone wolf, but put in a group situation, because he has a level head and a commanding presence, he makes a good leader,” Meilin stated. Of course she knew that. Everyone in the Li Clan knew that Syaoran had been groomed to be the next Head all his life. Though he tended to freeze up with people, he had gotten better about it as he grew older. 

 

“You’re right about that,” remarked Tomoyo. “I always thought so when I watched them fighting Dark Ones. Syaoran really has a good scope of the battle field and knows how to keep a group together because he has that sort of dependable ambience of a veteran general on a battlefield.”

 

“But Sakura also is a good leader―she’s not as assertive, but you know in times of need, she suddenly pulls together and becomes the great Card Mistress that she always has been.”


Tomoyo nodded. “Sakura-chan always has been sort of a leader-type even at school. Everyone always looks to her in group projects, athletic meets and school festivals.”

 

Meilin smiled. “Yeah, Sakura is so clumsy and spacey, but she’s full of so much vigor and energy, she’s a born leader. Didn’t you notice when she directs meetings for the Star Alliance? She’s the only one who would be able to draw together such an eclectic group of misfits full of mistrust against every other member.”

 

“But you would think the two would be a little more relenting to each other after all they’ve been through,” Tomoyo sighed. “Then again, I do remember how they were always at each other in the beginning, regarding Clow Cards and Yukito-san.”

 

“Who doesn’t remember? Well, Sakura-chan is the only person who has ever really stood up to Syaoran. He used to be so adored back home in Hong Kong, being the youngest of four and the Great Elder’s favorite, I think it was good to have someone put him in place,” Meilin asserted.

 

Tomoyo sighed. “The problem is, those two always had two much pride.”

 

Meilin nodded in agreement. She glanced over to the black cabinet, locked with a padlock. “I’ve always wondered, Tomoyo-chan, what do you have in there?”

 

“Oh, it’s for my next feature film,” stated Tomoyo. “I never knew it would come down to this, but in light of recent events, I have let my artistic inspiration supersede my guilty conscience and made ‘The Li Syaoran Blackmail Diaries.’” Very immodestly, she added with a blush, “It might be my greatest masterpiece yet and already has a huge waiting list.”

 

“I don’t even want to ask,” said Meilin, shuddering at the sinister twinkle emanating from Tomoyo’s amethyst eyes and surrendering to her own darkest curiosity to delve into the secrets of the ‘Li Syaoran Blackmail Diaries.’ “Well, so how much is a preorder?”

 

 

 

*******

 

 

 

Just as Kinomoto Fujitaka had said, it began to drizzle, and Syaoran was grateful for the umbrella. There was something calming about hearing the pitter-pat of raindrops overhead on the umbrella as he made his way through the park, a shortcut towards the apartment. As he reached into his pocket to warm his hands, his fingers brushed against the money envelope. Instead, he took out the green ribbon he had taken from Sakura’s hair years ago when she had fallen asleep at his house. Once, he had thought of it as his good luck talisman. A Li warrior shouldn’t have to resort to such tokens, but he had believed that this ribbon would always lead him to her. A gust of rain-wind blasted under the umbrella, and the ribbon slipped from his fingers. It blew about, a streak of vivid green in the gray sky. For a moment, he thought, let it go. No, not yet. He chased after it, splashing about in puddles, until he could grasp it with his outstretched left hand. He stood before the park bridge. The rain was pelting down harder at a slant angle, rendering his umbrella useless. And there, as he tilted his umbrella back to see ahead of him, he could make out the silhouette of a girl standing on the other end of the bridge. If she was an apparition, she wouldn’t be so completely drenched to the skin looking so defenseless. Her light brown hair was matted to her forehead, and her cherry pink dress clung to her like second skin. She was shivering, her arms clutched around her chest as she squinted up at him through the rain with eyes the same vivid green of the ribbon he was holding. She called out his name.

 

“Wait, Syaoran!” she repeated, her voice coming out in gasps, as if she had been running. For a second, he hesitated, and she was afraid he was going to turn around and leave.

 

Instead, he slowly walked up the bridge meeting her at the halfway point, where she stood waiting with her eyes gleaming like an iridescent pool of green. Was she angry? Was she sad? What was that expression?

 

“Onii-chan told me everything,” she blurted out. Now she was angry. Her eyes flashed and were glazed with tears. What had he done now? But words came out her mouth so rapidly. Listen. Listen to what she’s saying. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you do it?” she was asking him. “All this time I didn’t even know.

 

What had her brother told her? He blinked. “It was me who mixed the white and black laundry and ruined your favorite t-shirt,” he admitted reluctantly.

 

She stared at him as she wanted to burst out laughing but instead looked like she was about to cry. “Silly, I’m not talking about the laundry!”

 

And Syaoran looked stricken. “It’s true. I ate the last chocolate cupcake in the refrigerator.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me about what happened last year?” burst out Sakura before Syaoran could run down the list of his guilty conscience. 

 

“Last year?”

 

“When I fell into a coma… Why didn’t you tell me you saved me?” Sakura cupped her palms which filled with a glowing orb of light. “This power of the moon. Why didn’t you tell me it was yours?” There was a silence. Even the stream below seemed hushed.

 

“Your brother… told you that?” And Syaoran let out a long sigh of what seemed like relief. If Touya had spoken first, then he was the one who had broken the agreement.

 

“Why couldn’t you have told me?” Sakura was crying now, her hand rested on his sleeve. “That this was the reason why you avoided me.”

 

He expected an outburst, for Sakura looked absolutely furious. Instead, her head collided into his chest. “I lied. I didn’t want you leave. Please don’t go back to Hong Kong. I’m sorry Syaoran. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to tell me anything. I should have known.”

 

And Syaoran quickly came to a realization what she was doing. He gripped her by the shoulders and shook her to break her connection. “Don’t! Don’t try to return it to me. I transferred my powers to you gladly. I would have done it a thousand times over in that same situation. Can’t you see I would never have let you die?”

 

She swallowed a hiccup.  

 

His voice was full of emotion. “It’s not your fault. Everything’s my fault. So don’t cry, don’t cry.” This only made her sob harder. He dropped the umbrella and squeezed her into an embrace so tight that the wind was knocked out of her. He didn’t care that her wetness seeped into his shirt. She was shivering like a drenched kitten but so was he. Her arms locked around his broad back. His heart was beating steadily as the raindrops falling on the ground, or was it hers? Warmth spread through to the tips of their toes like the steam of a cup of hot tea shared on a cold winter’s day. And he murmured into her ears, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” so many times that his breath seemed to melt away into her hair with the sweet fall of spring rain.

 

Why Syaoran, why? Why must you do this to me? Just when I have hardened my heart, why do you have to be so gentle and kind? Why when I have resolved not to be weak, must you make me feel so vulnerable and helpless? Why are you the one apologizing to me?

 

Don’t be kind to me. Don’t hold me in your arms. Don’t make me waver. Because if you do, then you’ll see the look I have in my eyes and you’ll know the truth.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Kinomoto Touya knew that Yukito was watching him with undivided attention. “What?” he demanded in irritation.

 

His rudeness had no impact on his friend. “I’m impressed,” remarked Yukito with a sunny smile. “I never thought that you would be the one to tell her.”

 

Touya sighed. “Never in a million years did I guess I would be the one either.”

 

“Well, you never thought that he would come back as her enemy.” Yukito gave Touya a petulant look. “But then again, Syaoran probably took the Sakura Cards from their mistress for the very reason why he left. You may recall that Sakura spent a good year converting the Clow Cards from the power of darkness into the power of stars.”

 

“But since she now uses the power of the moon, it would have been a matter of time before she needed to convert the Sakura Cards again, which would be a very risky task because of the current circumstances. Hence, taking away the Cards from immediate contact with her prolongs the need for them to be converted. Just like with the Clow Cards. Eriol told me so much already,” said Touya.

 

“Most likely, Syaoran took the Cards not just to protect her from the Li Clan, but to save her the dangerous and energy-consuming task of converting the Cards when her own powers are in an unstable state,” Yukito murmured. Both recalled how drained Sakura had been in the early days of converting the Clow Cards, how Yue and Cerberus almost disappeared. “I figured there was a deeper reason behind why you let Syaoran stay at your house.”

 

Touya scowled. “It was Hiiragizawa Eriol’s idea, not mine.” He begrudgingly added, “And I guess I do owe the Brat.” 

 

“You know, Syaoran probably didn’t return to Hong Kong because of what you said,” said Yukito. “But I guess you always felt a little guilty about being so harsh on him, anyway.” Anybody who didn’t know Yukito better would think he was enjoying his play-by-play torturing of Touya.

 

“Shut up,” said Touya, clutching his temples. “I don’t know anymore. I give up. Let kids be kids and sort out their messes themselves.”

 

“Oh, To-ya. Stop digging yourself into a bigger hole. If things work out between the two of them after all, you would officially be their fairy godmother,” said Yukito with a teasing grin.

 

“I said that they should clear up their misunderstanding, nothing more. They do not have my blessing or my approval―that Brat will never get my approval in a million years!”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

The two that had been separated by a long year of silence stood on the bridge, facing each other an arm’s length apart, with nothing separating them save the air between them. Sakura stared up at Syaoran, blinking through the raindrops, afraid to take her eyes off of him, wanting assurance that he was real, that he wasn’t going to disappear like he always did in every dream. Yet he looked at her so tenderly, as if he already knew what she wanted to say.

 

“There are so many things I have to tell you. I waited so long to say them to you,” she said in a choked voice. She didn’t know when her tears ended and the rain began. Her heart was bursting with impatience. Where to start, what to say first? “Your powers. What am I going to do? How am I going to return them to you?”

 

“Don’t try to return it, or else I am really going to get angry,” he told her. “Just say thank you.”

 

Her lips quivered. “Thank you.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Thank you, Syaoran-kun. Thank you. Thank you for more things than I can express.” She looked at him a bit bewildered, a bit relieved, a bit distraught. “But what really are we going to do? Is there really no way for my powers to return? How about the Li Clan? Kai-kun said you are going to be the Great Elder. It was your father’s wish. But without your power of the moon… Wait, is that why―”

 

And he pressed a finger on her lips gently. He made a mental note to berate Kai later for filling Sakura’s head with silly ideas and distressing her. “Shhh... You’ve heard of things from other people. But now, will you listen to my side of the story?” Syaoran’s eyes were golden-amber and kind, kinder than she could dream them to be. Sakura finally figured out what she liked so much about Syaoran’s eyes. When she first met him, she had thought that they glinted with an almost beastlike ferocity during battle, as if he didn’t want anyone to approach him. But as she grew to know him better, once he let down his guard, she learned that those eyes held a greater compassion and kindness than she had ever found in anyone else before. Little did she know, it was she who had brought out that compassion in a boy who had lived all his life in rigid regiment with little compassion shown upon him. All his life, he had been treated like an adult, not a child, and had been expected to behave like an adult. When he met Sakura, for the first time, he had met somebody who had treated him as what he was; an immature ten-year-old boy who thought he had figured out the world when he had been running around in his little cage thinking he was the king of the world.

 

Wide-eyed, Sakura gulped then nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to listen. I wasn’t ready before, but I am now. You can tell me the truth.”

 

The only place to start was from where everything had ended. “Going back to Hong Kong wasn’t exactly my choice, but I guess you already figured that out,” Syaoran began.

 

Sakura nodded solemnly.

 

“When I first found myself back in Hong Kong, I was furious yet helpless. I came to a dull sort of reconciliation with my fate, a sense of complete defeat. I had no sense of how time passed by, but I guess it was spring. I was walking down the Hong Kong harbor. And I saw you, wearing a vivid pink jacket, against the gray oceans. Surely you couldn’t be there in Hong Kong. I thought I was hallucinating, and it would have been nothing new, because back then, I was walking about not knowing night or day, winter or spring, reality or dream. And you called out my name. I knew it was you. No phantom or hallucination could have your voice. Part of me was stunned, part of me was alarmed but another part of me was happy, so happy. Because you were there and I thought I would never get to see you again.”

 

“But why―” Sakura’s eyes blurred. “Why did you turn me away?”

 

“Do you know how terrified I was then? The Li Clan is strongest when they are in their homeland, Hong Kong, just like you are strongest when you are in Japan, and you had walked straight into our base. And at that time, your powers had not even been recovered, and I was so afraid something bad was going to happen to you if you stayed in Hong Kong. That day, do you know how many bodyguards were with me? I could not protect you, not without my magic, not without my sword. That was the best I could do. If they knew who you were, they could drag you away to one of the Li Estates and take away the Clow Cards without leaving a trace of the fact that you even set foot in the country. All I could do was make sure that you absolutely despised me and never looked for me again.”

 

Syaoran’s breath was ragged, and Sakura finally realized that glint in his eyes that day had not been coldness but fear. He had been afraid for her. “Make me hate you and leave Hong Kong as soon as possible?” Sakura’s bottom lip trembled. “You idiot! You truly thought you were protecting me?”

 

“Before you say anything else, I’ve got something else to confess to you,” said Syaoran. He reached into his pocket and drew out a crumpled light blue envelope. The ink was smudged, as if had gotten wet then dried.

 

“What is that?” asked Sakura, squinting through the rain.

 

“It’s a letter.”

 

“What letter?”

 

“It’s a letter that you wrote to me,” he replied. “When I was in Hong Kong.”

 

“I didn’t write you any letter,” said Sakura. Then she paused and stared at the envelope again. It was addressed to him in her handwriting on her stationary. It couldn’t be―why did he have it? “I―I threw that letter away! How―why do you have it?”

 

“I know that you came to see me that day at the Main House and stood up to Uncle Wutai. You also went to Mother. I heard all about it later. After you had already left.”

 

“But why is that letter in your hands?” She had thrown it away in the trashcan in the shared hotel room in Hong Kong. And Sakura groaned. “Tomoyo-chan.”

 

“Apparently, Tomoyo gave it to Kai who gave it to Meilin who handed it to Wei who snuck it in to me. It’s a letter that crossed many hands to get into mine, so it is all the more precious to me,” said Syaoran. 

 

The past year suddenly flashed through her, standing on that harbor again, trying to say those simple words, I’ll be waiting, so please come back. That was all she had been trying to say. She felt a lump in her throat. All this while, she had so many friends wishing her the very best, and she had been unappreciative.

 

“You don’t know what this letter means to me,” said Syaoran, clutching it to his chest to keep it dry. “Don’t you know, the Li Syaoran you met that day was just an empty shell with no purpose in life. After we parted, I thought everything was really the end. That you would hate me and our paths will never cross again. But then, I received that letter. I heard later from Wei about how you showed up at the Main House and stood up to Uncle Wutai. I know how intimidating he can be, yet I heard how brave you were, and suddenly, I felt ashamed of myself and yet, somehow alive again. I had thought if I left Japan, your life would continue going and that you were in good hands. As you said, you have many powerful allies who will guard you. But you came to see me. You were worried for me.”

 

“Of course I was worried about you,” said Sakura.

 

“This may be a letter you threw away, but to me, it is the only thing that kept me going when I had lost all hope. It is the reason I am back here in Japan.” Syaoran paused. “From then on, my attitude towards the Elders changed. I was still at their mercy. But my mind was not conquered by them. You gave me a purpose to fight again. All I could think of was how I needed to find a way back to Japan again. I would do anything to find a way back to you. That is why I accepted the conditions of the Elders. The only way to return to Japan would be to obey their orders and earn my rights to be Chosen One.”

 

“Why couldn’t you have told me all this when you first returned? I would have understood,” said Sakura.

 

“Well, you can only imagine the shock I felt when I came back to Japan and learned that you had forgotten about my existence,” pointed out Syaoran.

 

Sakura’s cheeks turned pink.

 

“But truthfully, it might have been for the better. Because I was on probation as the Chosen One, I had to obey the Elders’ orders. That’s only way I could stay here,” said Syaoran. The words in Sakura’s letters, But then, I also understand that you also must have your reasons. So, I don’t mind waiting for you, waiting for the next time I could meet you so that I could say everything I need to you to your face. Those words had kept him going. He had read the letter so many times over and over again in the months he had been trapped in his room in Hong Kong that he knew it word for word. “Still, still I might have wished in the bottom of my heart that you will remember the words that you wrote to me.”

 

And Sakura stared up at Syaoran, as soaked as she was, somberly. “That day at the mountains…”

 

Syaoran nodded. “I had just returned to Japan and you can imagine my surprise when I learned you were there on the mountain as well. And you called out my name, even though our thief friend had warned me that you had long since forgotten who I was.”

 

“Kai told you?” she asked softly. It really had been Syaoran who had caught her hand. She was somehow reassured by this knowledge.

 

He nodded. “The wind that saved you when you fell from the Fly Card was him. The next time I saw you at Eitoukou, you truly had no clue who I was. Every time I saw you, it was painful. You didn’t know me, but you were always angry every time I saw you. And that day when we bumped each other at the hospital, I completely panicked when you suddenly asked me out of the blue if it was me at the cliff. I had taken the Cards from you. I had betrayed you. I didn’t want your memories to return then.”

 

The rain was pouring down harder and the bridge creaked. “No matter what you think, I never really completely forgot you,” Sakura said.

 

Taking off his jacket, Syaoran reached over and draped it around Sakura’s shoulders. He smoothed her tangled wet hair. “I know. That rainy day when your memory did come back, I was almost relieved that you were furious at me. I was crushed when you told me that I was the person that you despised most in the world, but even that was less torturous than you looking at me without any sign of recognition. I was speaking the truth. I never meant to hurt you.”

 

As the warmth settled over her shoulders, Sakura asked quietly, “Why did you take the risk of coming after me into the Fantasy? How did you know you were going to find me?”

 

“I didn’t.” Syaoran didn’t bother to deny that he had followed her into Memoria. What was the point? “When, I learned you disappeared into Memoria. I was frantic. I thought I had lost you again.” Then he paused. What had happened in Memoria was something that neither of them would feel comfortable discussing. “How much do you remember from Memoria?”

 

“Just bits and pieces, like the fleeting memory of the images in a picture book,” replied Sakura. “I know you were there. You came riding on a black horse to Mika-san’s house. Hana-chan was there too. I didn’t realize who she was back then. And we met Risa-sama and Ruichi-sama. They were nothing like what I had imagined the Dark Ones to be like. And I remember okaa-san and Wolfie-chan. And your name. I remembered your name. I was scared it was too late.”

 

“Thank you for remembering me,” said Syaoran softly.

 

“I put you in danger. You wouldn’t have been there if I hadn’t been stupid enough to isolate myself in the Fantasy world in the first place.” She glanced up at him. “What made you come after me in the first place? For all I can recall, the last time I saw you I declared my hatred of you.”

 

“My feelings were awfully hurt,” Syaoran responded solemnly, suppressing a smile when Sakura looked up at him guiltily with her brows creased. “But even so, I had some assurance.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“That you remembered me and hated me rather than not remember me and hate me.”

 

“I never hated you,” said Sakura. “But what possessed you to come live us if you thought that?”

 

“It was originally Touya-san’s proposition. But that alone wasn’t enough to make me risk showing my face at your footsteps, knowing very well how inviting you would be towards me.” Syaoran’s eyes twinkled. “But I took a risk. Even after promising me that you would wait, you just went ahead and forgot all about me and started dating that bastard Eron. I mean, do you know how much hope I derived from that letter?”

 

“You’re the one who turned me away!” exclaimed Sakura.

 

“When I learned you were dating Chang Eron, I was driven mad with jealousy. But then, you had chosen to be with him and you seemed to care about him. What could I do but watch? I no longer existed to you. Even after your memory returned, I was branded as ‘Li Syaoran’ the enemy who had taken the Sakura Cards from you.”

 

Sakura looked up in surprise. It was the first time Syaoran had ever outright stated that he was jealous of Eron, and it was not the worst feeling. 

 

“That Christmas Eve, I wagered that if you did show up, I shouldn’t give up all hope.”

 

“Hope?”

 

“Yes hope that you will one day forgive me.” Syaoran smiled slightly. “Hope that one day, I would get a chance to tell you all that I am telling you right now.”

 

Sakura shook her head rapidly. “You’re not the only one who was in the wrong. I forgot you. And when I did remember you, I didn’t give you a chance. When you took the initiative to speak to me, I didn’t try to hear you out.” Even though Syaoran had not forgotten her. That day of the fashion show, at King Penguin Park before had come down with the flu, and even a couple days ago when he had left her house, he had been trying to tell her and she had cut him off. And then there was Eron. Somewhere deep in her heart, maybe she knew there was no greater retaliation to Syaoran than to date the person he loathed the most. And she had hurt him. She had hurt him terribly because she had been too absorbed in her own hurt and not stopped for a moment to consider Syaoran’s feelings and what he was going through. She recalled his words that day on the backstage during the fashion show. “I can’t explain everything, and I can’t return to you at the moment. But for once, let me be selfish. For once, let me say what I truly desire… I can’t be by your side yet, but I swear, I swear to you that I will return. So even though it’s painful, even though I know you’re hurting, wait for me just a little longer, Sakura.”

 

“We both made lots of foolish mistakes. We both missed a lot of opportunities to tell each other the truth. We’re both in the fault.” Syaoran wrapped Sakura’s frozen fingers in his. 

 

The waxing twilight moon overhead peeked through the heavy cast of clouds over the night sky. Sakura nodded. “So no more secrets. No more lying. No more fighting.”

 

“Agreed,” he said with a smile.

 

A golden glow enshrouded the two of them, and the two saw a card flutter down onto the ground. Syaoran bent over and handed it to her. She turned it over. They both grinned. The Pride had finally been sealed.

 

Sakura said quietly, “I always meant to ask you, what happened to Wolfie-chan?” It had been a question she had been afraid to ask until now.

 

A pained look came over his eyes. “He died nobly trying to protect me. I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.”

 

Shaking her head, Sakura replied, “Good old Wolfie-chan.” Wolfie-chan had tried to protect his master in her stead. Somehow, though she was sad, she was also glad knowing that Wolfie-chan had been there for Syaoran till the end. “I’m sure we’ll see him again someday.”

 

“I believe so too.”

 

I’m sorry, Syaoran. We never needed words to express ourselves, did we? I realize now. Why you didn’t say anything. You wanted me to understand on my own. But I wasn’t paying attention. I wasn’t listening. Only now can I hear the message you have been trying to tell me all this while, loud and clear. You were saying, please wait, just wait and believe in me until this trial passes. I understand. I will wait. I will believe in you so take as long as you need. Because this time, I will be standing by your side.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

The fire was crackling merrily in the Tanaka den, and Miara looked up from the novel she was reading to smile up at her husband. Keisuke reached over and rubbed her shoulders, then glanced questioningly upstairs where their two children were getting ready for bedtime, just like olden days.

 

Upstairs, Miho sat up on her pink and white princess canopy bed in her pink and white polka-dot pajamas. “What are you gloating about?” she asked her brother, in matching blue and white polka-dot pajamas.

 

“I’m just envisioning whether my favorite brunettes are having a wonderful reconciliation or another tirade,” remarked Kai.

 

Miho leaned forward, bug-eyed. “Do you know something?” Her brother only smiled smugly. “Nee, onii-chan. If you know something, tell me.” And Miho took him by the arm and blinked up at him coaxingly.

 

Clearing his throat, Kai replied, “Well, I did tell Sakura an interesting piece of information some weeks ago, and I think by now, she should have processed it.”

 

“No!” Miho’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t tell her that Syaoran-senpai gave up his powers to save her life!”

 

“Nah. That’s overkill. I made it sound like Syaoran has a very important mission to finish and when he goes back to Hong Kong, she’ll never be able to see him again.” Kai snickered wickedly.

 

“Syaoran-senpai is going to leave Sakura-senpai and go back to Hong Kong?” exclaimed Miho, lips quavering.

 

“No, silly.” Kai winked. “I just want Sakura to think that to trigger her out of oblivion.

 

His little sister clapped her hands gleefully. “You’re ingenious!”

 

“Thank you,” said Kai with a mock bow from his seated position.

 

“Sakura-senpai and Syaoran-senpai are so slow, it’s frustrating to watch,” stated Miho.

 

“Don’t even talk about it,” said Kai, rolling his eyes. “I mean, even as a professional magician, there are limits to what I can do. I handcuffed them together, which consequently got them living together, I orchestrated their whole summer adventure when they were being chased by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police and had to stick to each other 24/7 (you can say their first kiss is thanks to moi), and I’ve been acting as messenger between them ever since Syaoran was taken back to Hong Kong. What more can I do?”

 

Miho giggled. “I never knew onii-chan was such a big Syaokura fan.”

 

“Obviously. Otherwise, Mei-chan will go right back into her darling single Syao-kun’s arms,” stated Kai.

 

“Of course you would have ulterior motives. Well, enough about Sakura and Syaoran-senpai. For tonight’s bedtime story, tell me about how you fell in love with Meilin-nee-chan again,” said Miho, chin on both hands, facing her brother who sat cross-legged on the floor next to her pink-ruffled bed.

 

Kai’s blue-gray eyes twinkled merrily. He cleared his throat. “It all began with the story of a ring. A star-sapphire ring. One Kaitou Magician, the grandest, most spectacular phantom thief of the night, had acquired this magnificent artifact from a famous painter residing in New York. It was this very ring that a girl from Hong Kong decided rightfully belonged to her family. Perchance, fate let them to a small town in Japan, located just in the outskirts of Tokyo.” His eyes twinkled animatedly, like they had when he used to tell her fairytales in the old days. His voice took a rich, lyrical note as he continued, “The moon was full and the night sky lit with stars the night the gallant Kaitou Magician, a lonely criminal whose heart at that time was rotting with greed and desolation, chanced upon the beautiful girl of the jet-black pigtails and fiery temperament. He had traveled all the cities of the world, Rome, Paris, London, New York, New Delhi and even as far as Rio de Janeiro, but never had he seen a girl so reckless, so bold, so passionate and so stubborn. And she, too, was taken by the mysterious, handsome thief and fell in love at first sight.”

 

“Do you really have to refer to yourself in third person?” asked Miho, rolling over on her bed, hugging Usagi-chan, a duplicate of the fluffy white stuffed bunny her brother had gotten her for her fifth birthday, to her chest. Meilin would throw a fit should she heard this embellished version of the story. 

 

“Shush, you’re ruining the effect,” said Kai. “And Kaitou Magician whisked the girl from Hong Kong away from her friends and cruelly locked her away, taking her as prisoner. But the girl, instead of reproaching her captor, took pity on the notorious Thief of the Night, who seemed so solitary and tormented in his loneliness. She cooked him a delicious meal and gave him companionship. And the wicked thief, though his heart had already been corrupted beyond repair, felt human warmth for the first time in many years.”  

 

Miho guffawed at the thought of sharp-tongued Meilin-senpai being so warmhearted and gentle. Most likely, she scolded and berated her brother into tears of submission. “Anyhow, why did you kidnap her in the first place?”

 

A mysterious smile came over Kai’s lips. “I wonder why.”

 

“Tell me!” demanded Miho, leaning forward, recognizing that tone of intention ambiguity.

 

“That is a story for another night.” He reached out to pet her on the head before recalling that she didn’t like being treated like a kid anymore, and withdrew. Instead, he stood up and said, “Good night Miho.”

 

“Good night, ‘nii-chan,” murmured Miho, snuggling into bed. “Tell me more about Kaitou Magician’s misadventures tomorrow night.”

 

“Sweet dreams, Miho-hime.” The baby nickname slipped from Kai’s lips out of old habit, and he reached over to turn off the nightstand.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Sharing the single green umbrella, Sakura and Syaoran crossed over the bridge and walked through the park area, through the town, without any particular destination, without any consciousness of time, without any care for anyone else. Only when the lamplights began to fade away did they realize they had talked through the night. Nobody else was out yet, and they were accompanied only by the quiet drizzle of rain and the sound of their shoes squishing in the muddy road.

 

Sakura stared up at the umbrella, not knowing how it made her eyes seem greener. “This umbrella!” She glanced up at him accusingly. “Last fall, at the bus stop, it was you.” She had seen the back of his head through the rain, a brown-haired boy running away down the street. The wooden umbrella handle had been warm, like the temperature of his hand. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“Figured it would be awkward receiving an umbrella from a random stranger,” was his reply. For then, they had been strangers, since she had lost all memories of him. 

 

“I kept thinking I had to return this umbrella to the owner, and I finally did,” she remarked.

 

Wiping the top of her sopping head with a blue handkerchief, he replied, “I still haven’t returned something important to you, though.”

 

“The reason why you took the Sakura Cards,” began Sakura. “I understand. I know it was to protect me.”

 

Syaoran shoved his hands into his pockets and said gruffly, “You’re giving me too much credit.”

 

“Stop. No matter what you say, no matter how much you contradict yourself, I understand,” said Sakura. “I understand your heart.”

 

“If you truly did, you wouldn’t have given me the heartache that you did,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Can I admit something?” He had a cheeky grin, as if he were teasing her. “Actually, I was pretty offended that you completely forgot about me when I came back to Japan. Which might have kept me from trying harder to let you know the real reason I returned.”

 

“You can’t be holding a grudge over that!” Sakura exclaimed.

 

“I never knew that the worst feeling you can get is not when the other person hates you or is mad at you, because at least that means that your existence means something to that other person. It’s when that person has forgotten you, it means you don’t exist anymore, and it suddenly makes you reevaluate your own identity.” Syaoran paused. “But after a while, I was a bit relieved, knowing the things I had to do for the Clan.”

 

Grimly, she stated, “I have something to say as well. Please don’t ever call me ‘Kinomoto-san’ again. I think I even prefer your usual ‘omae’ to that.” She ruminated, “The only time you ever called me Kinomoto-san was once back in fifth grade inside the Dream Card.”

 

He raised a dark eyebrow. “The Dream Card?”

 

Sakura smiled nostalgically. “I should have figured out something was off right away. You addressed me so formally and politely, and you even complimented me.”

 

“In the Dream Card.”

 

“Yes the Dream Card.” Sakura eyed Syaoran skeptically. “What?”

 

His eyes twinkled. “You had a vision about me too?”

 

“Yes, and of Tomoyo, Meilin, Kero-chan, Yukito-san, onii-chan and me-of-the-future as well.” Now, he was pouting. “Did you have a dream of me by any chance?” she asked, curiously.

 

“Not telling,” he said with a half-scowl.

 

“We watched a really good movie that day. ‘The Tides of Love: The Promise Made on That Day.’ I think Tomoyo-chan bought the DVD,” Sakura reminisced. Syaoran began coughing furiously. “I still have the sticker picture we took that day, with Meilin-chan and Tomoyo-chan. You were wearing a pink shirt on that day.” She had found it while sorting through her album.

 

Syaoran chuckled. “My favorite shirt. I think I still have it somewhere. That was my first time visiting Tokyo Tower. And we never did end up going up, did we?”

 

“Ah, that’s right.” She had gone up with Syaoran and everybody. But that had been the Dream Card’s vision. In reality, Syaoran had used up to much of his powers to use the Time to seal the Dream by the entrance, and they had left the building soon after.

 

“And then during Yue’s Final Judgment, we were prancing about the external structure, but we didn’t exactly get a chance to go up and see the cityscape,” said Syaoran.

 

“We should go back again some time,” Sakura said. She stepped forward, her back to him. “It stopped raining!” she exclaimed, hands extended up to the sky. She still hadn’t told him the most important thing.

 

“Hey, you,” Syaoran called out with a grin. She turned around with a frown. He could see every change in her expression as clear as if it were daylight. “Kinomoto-san,” he said. She frowned even more. “Well then, can I call you ‘Sakura’ then?” he asked, heedless of the fact that he had been slipping in and out of addressing her formally and by her given name all along.

 

“Only if I can call you Syaoran-kun.”

 

“Without the ‘kun’?” said Syaoran. Which she did anyway.

 

She nodded, again feeling a lump in her throat.

 

He grinned. “Sakura.” Just the way he used to. Low in the beginning, rushed towards the end.

 

“Syaoran-kun. Syaoran. I’m sorry for doubting you,” Sakura said.

 

“And I’m sorry for doing things that only cause you to doubt me,” he replied. “But I promise that I’ll try harder from now on.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“So that we won’t have this sort of misunderstanding again.”

 

“And you know that I will always believe in you, no matter what.” Sakura took his hand and Syaoran found she had pressed a hard, round object into his palm.

 

“What is this?” he asked. He uncurled his fingers, and found the broken diamond crystal bound together by a long slender red ribbon in a makeshift bandage.

 

“I’m only lending it to you because it’s a very important gift to me. Hold on to it until I find a way to fix it,” said Sakura. She pulled out the sapphire ring from her chain. “And I’ll hold on to this for you just a little longer.” 

 

He gazed at her in bewilderment.

 

She took a deep breath. “Do you remember one time, you told me an analogy of the twelve points of my star mandala symbolizing a spot for each of my allies, of an alliance to restore equilibrium in this world, a new order.”

 

“Yeah,” he replied. “You’ve done a good job with the Alliance of the Stars.”

 

“Syaoran.” Sakura looked up at him hesitantly, gripping her Star-Moon Key in her fingers. “The first spot has always been reserved for you.”

 

Syaoran clenched his fist around the stone tightly.

 

“I couldn’t say it back then, but I’ll say it now,” she continued with eyes glistening just like it had been that day on the harbor. “That spot on my star circle will always be open for you. So I’ll wait. I’ll be waiting. For as long as it takes.”

 

After a prolonged pause, Syaoran said in a quiet, choked voice, “Thank you.”

 

It had stopped raining, and Tomoeda was cast in a misty morning haze. Syaoran shut the umbrella, shaking off the raindrops, and caught up with Sakura. They plodded through the mud, their feet left imprints on the wet road behind them. Little rays of sunlight peeped through the heavy clouds, casting twinkling prisms in the puddles on the ground below, and the two walked hand in hand through a kaleidoscopic sheen of rainbows illuminating the path before them.  

 

 

 

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Wish-chan: (January 25, 2011) I take back what ever I said about last chapter being the hardest to write. This chapter was definitely harder. But I get this feeling each chapter as New Trials draws closer to the end will be harder to write for me. Ironically, this chapter, as in terms of writing, flowed out quite naturally and was very fun to write. However, I was really stuck in the editing process because I think this chapter is the most important chapter in this arc does far, and I was unsatisfied with an aspect of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if this chapter is the chapter I took the longest to write in actual hours, (for some of these scenes, even parts of the last section, have been written out since 2008). It was a great solace having written out parts of the reconciliation when I was writing the darker parts earlier in the arc. I apologize for taking much longer than I expected on this chapter, but if it is any solace, this chapter turned out to be the length of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. ^_^; I should have divided it into two chapters, but somehow, I liked this format, and I finally came to the solution of dividing it up into parts, like I did for Chapter 50: A Winter’s Conundrum.

 

Last chapter was an action chapter, so this chapter was sort of a drama chapter. It’s hardest for me to write scenes with Sakura and Syaoran (though they used to be the easiest for me to write in the earlier arcs), perhaps because they are originally CLAMP’s lead characters in two stories, and I am always double-checking myself over all their dialogue to retain the integrity of their characters. In contrast, it’s always fun writing about Meilin and Kai I guess because Kai’s an OC. Also, though the premise of MeiKai is quite fantastical, I think their relationship dynamic is pretty grounded, so I like the contrast. This chapter was a mixture of things I really wanted to write about (the happy bits) and things I really wanted to put off writing about (the not so happy parts). Still, I was glad to finally reveal the past with Risa, Hayashi, etc. I was originally going to include that scene back in Chapter 60: Re-memory, but decided to hold it off. It had been written out years ago though. I wish I had more time to finish writing The Legacy of the Five Forces, because it would have given much different angle on the relationship dynamic between the Great Five. The mystery of the grave is finally (sort of) cleared. I’m glad to finally get a chance to include Leon into the main plotline since I haven’t published his chapters for the Kaitou Magician Origins yet. Leon and Hana already made an appearance in Chapter 61: Fantasia in Memoriam back in 2009. I was very amused to find that the main heroine for CLAMP’s new manga Gate7 is also Hana. I spent a long time years ago, trying to come up with the name of the unborn child. Taoka Yoshinori was supposed to be a one-chapter character, but he sort of grew on me. Speaking of tattoos, in Kaitou Magician’s original character designs, he was supposed to have a tattoo on his left bicep of a rose design silhouetted by the moon or something like that. I never got around to writing about it, however, and I thought his parents will freak out if he comes back pierced and tattooed. But who knows, maybe he’s just hiding it in a convenient place. I was bummed not to be able to write more Eriol scenes but because this chapter turned out so long, I have desperately cut out a total of… 3 pages. Lol. I intentionally made this title of the chapter foreboding. It’s sort of misleading, I guess.    

 

Back in October, I had a little heart attack when revolutionhosting.net suddenly came to a close without any notice. I thought I had lost my website. But everybody was very supportive and very luckily, I was able to find an alternative web server at http://www.robswebsites.com/ thanks to Robert Arrowsmith, formerly an admin at revolutionhosting.net, and luckily, also being able to retain my longtime url. So, many thanks to Bilal and revolutionhosting.net for hosting New Trials of CCS for the past 7 years, and I am very grateful to Robert at http://www.robswebsites.com/ for the smooth transition and am excited to bring everybody the best quality Card Captor Sakura fanfiction possible, and you’ll be able to continue accessing my CCS website at: http://wishluv.revolutionhosting.net

 

Here is a new Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle AMV: made to Yuzurenai Negai “An Unyielding Wish,” first opening theme of Magic Knight Rayearth, the series that got me started on CLAMP. I made the video when I had a writer’s block, and you could see how it rather links back to themes of this chapter.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhTtGlGbf0g I’m not sure if I can ever take the TRC  plotline completely seriously but if nothing else, it has been a very good character study experience for me.

 

As I never fail to mention, emails have been my vitamin and energy source all these years and are much cherished at hopeluvpeace@hotmail.com. (I am in the process of catching up with replying to my inbox. Gomen, I’ve been MIA while finishing this chapter!) If you haven’t already, check out the Yahoo New Trials Ring at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/newtrialsring. For the latest New Trials updates and other news, check out my blog at http://wishluv.blogspot.com and find my artwork at http://wishluv.deviantart.com. Thank you everybody for being so patient and continuing to support New Trials all these years.

 

Happy New Year 2011! (And belated Merry Christmas 2010!)