Chapter 72: Almost Left Behind

 

 

 

Part I: Prelude

 

 

******

 

 

“Syaoran,” said Sakura, cheeks flushed, standing in King Penguin Park. “Syaoran.” He smiled quizzically at her, his hair a deep russet lit orange as the sun set. Taking a deep breath, she blurted out, “Syaoran, I like you!”

 

Li Syaoran stared back at her for a moment, then blinked his amber-hued eyes. “Sakura, you really like your brother, right?”

 

She nodded.

 

“And what about me?” he asked solemnly. “Aren’t the feelings the same? Of you liking your brother and your feelings for me?” He let her ponder this. “They’re really similar, right?”

 

Stunned, Sakura shook her head rapidly. No, of course they were not the same. Not even the slightest bit similar. “It’s not the same! My feelings for you are completely different. What about you? I don’t mean anything to you?”

 

His lips curled into a sardonic smile. “It’s true, I think, I may have been drawn to your power of stars before. But that’s just my power of the moon being drawn to your power of the stars. That doesn’t make you my most important person. Now that I am the Great Elder, the Li Clan is the most important to me.”

 

“But I like you,” she whispered. “I’ve liked you for a very long time.”

 

“I’m really sorry. I cannot accept your feelings.”

 

She felt a lump in her throat. “But Syaoran, you were the one who told me that someday I would find my most important person.”

 

“And I’m sure he’s out there, somewhere.”

 

Sakura dropped to her knees. This aching in her heart—when had she felt this before? Yes, when she saw him turn her back to her a year ago by the Hong Kong harbors. She screamed, but no voice came out as the ground beneath her crumbled away and she fell into a deep pitch black abyss, with Syaoran standing above her, staring down at her expressionlessly.

 

 

 

Kinomoto Sakura, age 17, bolted from her bed, to realize she was at home and it was still the middle of the night.

 

“What is it Sakura-chan?” demanded Kero-chan, finding his mistress in cold sweat. “Did you have a premonition?”

 

“I hope it wasn’t a premonition,” replied Sakura, clutching her heart. “I think that was the worst nightmare I’ve had in my life.”

 

“Did you dream about the Dark Ones? Was it Chang Ruichi again? Or about a new dark force?” asked Kero-chan with a frown. “We need to analyze the dream carefully because it might carry some underlying meaning.”

 

“No, it was a dream about Syaoran,” murmured Sakura, clutching a frayed black teddy bear close to her chest. “It was awful.”

 

Kero-chan nodded. “Yes, it would be awful dreaming about the Brat. What did he do? Bully you and steal the Sakura Cards again? Turn into a wolf? Eat your favorite pudding?”

 

A little puppy with pointed ears jumped onto her bed and nuzzled on her lap. Stroking his fur, she replied, “No, he was very handsome and cordial and polite.”

 

“It’s all right, it was just a dream then. We know he’s rude, curt and impolite in real life,” reassured Kero-chan. “He was such a beast to you in the beginning, I’m impressed you put up with him for this long. I’m sure your dream is warning you to stay away from the Brat.”

 

“I’m not sure that’s possible,” she said.  

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Everybody, please fill out your career forms and hand it in by next week,” said Mizuki Kaho, handing out the sheets of paper to her homeroom class, second years at Seijou High School. “List your top three career choices, and then your top three college choices and get it signed by your guardian.”

 

Sakura stared at the questionnaire sheet on her desk. Top three career choices? She didn’t even have one. As for college, that was one of the last worries on her mind at the moment. After all, she may be a high school student by default, but she was also the Mistress of the Sakura Cards, successor to the enigmatic sorcerer Clow Reed. Now that her star powers were back, she could actually focus on overcoming the remaining dark forces. Several weeks ago, she wasn’t even sure she would have the leisure to worry about the future. Or sit here in the classroom beside that person who she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to see again, one year ago. Even now, she couldn’t help sneaking a surreptitious peak at the boy sitting next to her by their window seats at the back of the classroom. It was her favorite pastime over hers as of late, and she never looked more forward to school each day.

 

Besides her, Syaoran heaved a long sigh as he stared as his sheet of paper. It was of some solace for her to think that even Syaoran was having a tough time with it. Then again, he was the head of the largest magical clan in Hong Kong, which owned a large corporation with subsidiaries in construction, electronics, hotels, hospitals, and more fields she probably hadn’t even heard of. Some weeks ago, Syaoran had also regained his moon powers and had been named the Great Elder of the Li Clan. But Syaoran said graduating high school with honors was a prerequisite before he could assume full duties as the Great Elder. Which was why he was able to return to Japan in the first place.

 

It seemed unreal that he was here, after all that happened over the past year. He was no longer the scowling 10-year-old boy that she had first met seven years ago after he transferred to her class in Tomoeda Elementary School, just one campus over. The two schools even shared the same wire fence as a border. Back then, she would not have thought they would be sitting over on the other side of the fence on the high school campus, wearing the same uniform and in the same classroom with him.

 

His profile was silhouetted by the sunlight streaming into the classroom. It was fascinating to watch Syaoran from this angle, as her desk mate—he had always sat behind her in elementary and junior high, so she never got to watch him like this at school. The light color of the Seijou High uniform blazer offset his chestnut brown hair which curled slightly at the ends. While most high school boys slouched or leaned sideways, legs crossed, Syaoran always had good posture when studying, sitting upright, facing the front of the classroom. When in deep thought, he had that slight frown, dark brows furrowed down in concentration. And when he found something amusing, like after solving an especially difficult mathematics equation or when reading an interesting line in his history textbook, the corner of his right lip would curl up ever so slightly before falling again, as if he thought it a sin to smile in class. If she thought about it, she was pretty sure she spent at least a year knowing Syaoran in elementary school without ever seeing him crack a smile. She suddenly recalled her dream last night, how he had stared down at her with distant eyes, and shuddered.     

 

As if sensing she was staring at him, he glanced up at her quizzically. Their eyes met, and he smiled, out of the blue, the corner of his eyes crinkling as if something had amused him. And the cold stranger of her dreams was vanquished in instant. She felt her heart thump, and perspiration down the back. For an uncomfortable moment, she felt her breath caught in the back of her throat, afraid to exhale. She quickly glanced down at her survey sheet again and mumbled out loud, “Gosh, this is so difficult.”  

 

“It really is hard,” remarked her best friend, Daidouji Tomoyo, turning around from the seat in front of them.

 

“You too?” asked Sakura in surprise, thinking her friend had it easy with her multitude of talents.

 

“Yes,” said Tomoyo, tugging on the end of one long thick plait. “I do enjoy directing films, but I can’t decide if I like it more than designing clothes. And I do love music as well. I feel like I would like to go to an arts school, but I know Mother probably expects me to study finance, like she did.”

 

“So, your problem, Tomoyo-san, is that you are too multitalented,” her desk mate, Hiiragizawa Eriol, pointed out wryly. “Or is it that you refuse to go anywhere that Sakura doesn’t, so that limits your future university prospects quite a lot?”

 

Tomoyo said with a shrug, “I can always pursue my hobbies anytime, anywhere, so I’d rather surround myself with the people I care about.”  

 

Eriol chuckled to himself. “You make a good point.”

 

At this, Tomoyo glanced at Eriol, wondering if he was taking the survey seriously, especially since Mizuki-sensei would be reading it. Clow Reed seemed to have been socially awkward and had immersed himself in his magic, distancing himself from all people. But Eriol was different. He was surrounded by people who loved him and wouldn’t leave him.

 

“When I was 10, this would have been the easiest form to fill out,” said Li Meilin said with a frown, pencil balanced between her nose and upper lip. She glanced over at Mizuki Kai and was impressed to find him intently filling out the sheet. Upon a closer look, she read his bold, impeccable handwriting listing: No. 1 World class (handsome) thief, No. 2 Professional hacker, No. 3 Interpol Top 10 Most Wanted Criminal.

 

“Kai!” Meilin exclaimed, her pencil dropping. “Seriously? You can’t hand in the survey like that!”

 

“Why not?” said Kai with a shrug. “It’s a career survey, and as I’ve obviously accomplished all three on my list, I think it’s more accurate than anything else anyone here is going to hand in.” He waved his hand in the air dramatically. “Fame, wealth and power, I’ve got a taste of it all.”

 

Meilin was stumped. She couldn’t deny that Kaitou Magician was a world class thief once in the Interpol Top 10 Most Wanted list, with impeccable hacking abilities envied by top intelligence agencies. It was only lately, she had also seen glimpses of the boy genius that she had heard about and had a hard time imagining. Kai’s mind worked differently from other people—things that people had to work hard for came naturally to him. She had never seen Kai study for a single subject, yet he was able to ace all his tests if he actually decided to fill out the questions instead of falling asleep. It was partly the reason to his success as a thief, she learned. He was able to strategize and plan ahead in a way most people could not. He also got bored easily. She had thought that he slept at school because he was lazy but it was because he was uninterested with it—and he would stay up all night developing a new program or tracking stock trends or simply clearing a new video game.

 

“And let me guess what you have on your list,” drawled Kai, who was in a sarcastic mood. “No. 1 Li Clan Protector, No. 2 The Great Elder’s personal assistant, No. 3 Li Syaoran’s bride.”

 

Meilin scowled. “You know, I hate to admit it but if you asked me seven years ago, that probably would be a very accurate description, if you replace Syaoran’s bride as No. 1.”

 

Kai swiped her eraser over his sheet of paper, blowing away the debris. “And if you asked me what I wanted to be seven years ago what I wanted to be, this survey would have looked quite different as well.”

 

Fascinated, she watched Kai rewrite the form, reading over his shoulder. No. 1 Commissioner General of the National Police Agency, No. 2 Software company entrepreneur, No. 3 Olympics archery gold medalist.

 

“You—police?” Meilin snorted.

 

“Or maybe an investigator or a detective,” said Kai with a whimsical smile. “When I was 12, I still believed in justice. I believed that evil people could be caught and punished by law, and that I had the power to make a difference. And Miho-chan thought policemen uniforms were cool.”

 

“Well, oddly enough, maybe the means is wrong, but perhaps, you haven’t changed so much over the years. Whether as a thief against the law or on the side of the law, you in you own way were pursuing your idea of justice,” said Meilin.

 

“No, Meilin, you are wrong,” said Kai. Once more he erased the sheet of paper, leaving it streaked with graphite stains. “I was selfishly pursuing my own greed. I realize that now. But the difference between me now and me a year ago is that I can see that anything can be in my future. The me then believed I had no future. And in that sense, I feel the most liberated I have ever felt.”

 

“Like anything can be possible?” asked Meilin.

 

“Yeah, something like that,” said Kai. “Odd, isn’t it?”

 

“It’s called the Sakura effect,” said Meilin with a slight smile, looking over fondly at her first Japanese friend who looked quite troubled, staring at her blank sheet of paper, with Syaoran, beside her, watching her bemusedly. “It is strange, that with a certain set of skills, a person can easily put it to do good, or misuse it.” She glanced over at Chang Eron, perhaps the single person who had overturned her expectations most in the past year.

 

“What do you mean you are considering going to college in Hokkaido?” shrieked Mihara Chiharu at her boyfriend. “We were supposed to Seijou University together, weren’t we?”

 

Yamazaki Takashi, replied, “I have Seijou University here as my first choice. But I’ve lived in the same town all my life. It’s fun to think of living somewhere new for a change, isn’t it?”

 

“No!” exclaimed Chiharu. “My parents will never let me go to college so far away.”

 

Takashi called out, “Li-kun, you’ll probably end up going to university back in Hong Kong, right? Schools there are really competitive to get into, aren’t they?”

 

Chiharu glanced over at Sakura in dismay and kicked Takashi under the desk. “No need to get ahead of ourselves here.”

 

“That’s the whole point of this exercise,” pointed out Takashi, index finger pointed up. “Thinking ahead into the vast, endless territory that has not yet been treaded.”

 

Sakura glanced over at Syaoran. Though she had known Syaoran for nearly seven years, and would say she was comfortable enough to have frank conversations with him about almost anything by this point, after all they’ve been through, there was one topic that they never breached. The future. Their futures. Because she had always been scared that he would tell her one day that he had to return to Hong Kong, permanently. When she was in elementary school, she had been content to know that Syaoran was staying for one more semester, and another. But that was not enough. Right now, she knew he was back. But she knew not for how long. He had only told her that for the moment, he could go to high school in Japan. That could mean the end of this school year, or two years maximum, when they graduated. That is why she refused to think of the future, a future without him.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Music was always one of Sakura’s favorite classes, and she and her classmates filed toward the music room excitedly, for the last period of the day.

 

Yanagisawa Naoko said, “I heard Nomura-sensei is absent today.”

 

“Wait, then who is our substitute teacher?” asked Sasaki Rika.

 

They entered the music room and were greeted by a strong gust of wind as all the windows were open, and found a man with silvery hair swaying in the breeze, leaned against the grand piano.

 

“Li-sensei?” exclaimed Tomoyo, brushing her long hair from her face.

 

“Don’t tell me he’s our teacher?” exclaimed Sakura aghast.

 

Li Leiyun, Syaoran’s first cousin and currently school doctor, turned to the student and replied, “Well, as some of you may have heard, Nomura-sensei had a family emergency, so he will be out of town for a few weeks.”

 

“Are you our substitute teacher from now on?” asked Naoko, clasping her hands together gleefully.

 

“Yes, I will be filling in for him. Unfortunately, I didn’t get much prior notice. What are you guys learned these days?” said Leiyun, who in his dove gray V-neck sweater and casual beige slacks, looked little like a teacher and more like a student himself.

 

Rika handed Leiyun sheet music. “We were learning a new song, ‘Tsubasa wo Kudasai.’ I’m accompanying on piano.”

 

“Good, then you guys know what you are doing,” said Leiyun, with a wave of his hand. “Do what you usually do then.”

 

Kai whispered to Sakura, who was sitting next to him, “Does he even know the song? I mean, most Japanese kids grow up hearing this song in school, but he’s not from around here.”

 

Meilin scowled. “And you, do you even know the song? I’ve never even heard you open your mouth during music class.”

 

“Good point,” said Kai, stretching out his arms and yawning. “Well, wake me up when the class is over.”

 

“I thought he’s our school doctor,” mumbled Akagi Aki. “What’s he doing teaching music class? Does Li-sensei know anything about music?”

 

“The key question is, does he know anything about medicine?” muttered Sakura under her breath.

 

Rika sat on the piano bench and spread out the sheet music. Gulping, she began playing the introduction to the song. And the girls began singing, many of them missing the opening lines since Leiyun did not bother cuing them in. Others mumbled the lyrics. Only Tomoyo sang the lines true and clear, her voice taking precedence over everyone else’s voices.

 

The boys did even worse and not a single person came in at the right time as the second verse started.

 

For a moment, Leiyun stared at the class, blankly. He waved his hand in the air and called out, “Stop, just stop, this is a mess. Mizuki Kai—are you lip-syncing? And Yamazaki Takashi, you have the lyrics right in front of you—why are you making up the words to the song? Akagi Aki, are you trying to harmonize, or are you just tone deaf?”

 

Aki grumbled, “How does Li-sensei know all of our names? He spends all his time in the infirmary surrounded by a flock of girls.” 

 

“No wonder your music teacher ran on you guys,” Leiyun sighed. “You guys were truly awful, save Tomoyo.”

 

“We weren’t that bad,” grumbled Meilin. “At least the girls weren’t.” She glared at Kai, who indeed had been lip-syncing, which was actually an improvement from staring off into space, she supposed.

 

“Well, let’s start from the top again then,” said Leiyun. “Rika, piano.”

 

Rika sighed, thinking it was going to be a long hour, and began again.

 

Wait,” Leiyun said, raising a hand. “Play that last note again.”

 

Rika pressed the key again.  

 

Tomoyo frowned. “It’s off tune.”

 

“Is it?” asked Sakura hopefully. “Maybe we can cancel music class.”

 

We have to call in the technician then,” Rika said. “It might take several hours.”

 

It’s all right, someone bring me a mute and a tuning lever—it should be in the music storage room,” said Leiyun.

 

Rika gladly ran off to fetch the tools.

 

“And Tomoyo-chan can sing the song for us acapella so that I can figure out what it’s actually supposed to sound like,” said Leiyun. He crossed his arms. “Well, go ahead.”

 

Tomoyo looked up at Leiyun, wondering if he was serious. And she realized he was. She couldn’t refuse, since technically, he was their teacher for the day.

 

“If my wish were to come true right now, I’d wish for wings. Please put white wings on my back like a bird’s,” she sang in her soft but sweet voice. She prayed for Rika to return soon, but it wasn’t after she sang the last lines of the song. “I want to spread my wings and fly in this sky.

I want to make my wings flutter in a free sky without sorrow.”

 

And Leiyun clapped heartily by himself as she sat down again in her seat. “Bravo. Beautifully done. I didn’t realize I’ve heard this song before!” He stroked his chin, trying to recall where he had heard it. “I know, it’s a theme song in the Evangelion movie!”

 

Tomoyo groaned. “No, Li-sensei, it’s not just a theme song from Evangelion—it’s a popular Japanese folk song dating back to 1970.”

 

“You know, I sometimes get the sense that Li-sensei is a complete otaku,” whispered Naoko to Sakura. “I think he reads manga all day long in the infirmary. And he collects Gundam figures in the medicine closet.”

 

Leiyun continued, “Maybe we can just have Tomoyo-chan sing this song solo. It’ll sound much more agreeable that way and spare me the headache of listening to the rest of you monotone kids.”

 

Aki groaned, “I hope Nomura-sensei returns soon—Li-sensei does not take teaching seriously at all.”  

 

Returning to the classroom, Rika held up the tuning equipment. “Li-sensei, are you sure you don’t want me to call the technician? We can cancel music class and have a self-study period.”

 

“Yes, you guys should self-study the melody,” said Leiyun. “Or learn the lyrics or something.”

 

But Tomoyo and the other students instead watched Leiyun lift the lid of the piano, clinking down the keys. He tested the middle octaves and fiddled with the strings of the grand piano until he was satisfied. 

 

“I hope he’s not messing up the piano too badly,” said Aki. “Isn’t the school choir supposed to use it after school?”

 

“He’s tuning it by ear,” murmured Rika in awe, as Leiyun tested the other notes, moving down octave by octave.

 

“Well, he appears to be pitch perfect,” remarked Eriol.

 

“See, I guess he knows something about music then,” said Naoko to Aki, who snorted.

 

“Of course he does—he’s the one who taught Syaoran how to play the violin in the first place,” declared Meilin.

 

Sakura glanced over at Syaoran, who had been sitting rigidly throughout the whole class. It probably was unnerving for him to be taught by Leiyun. No, it wasn’t that. Syaoran was watching Leiyun tune the piano intently, in fascination. When was the last time she had seen Syaoran so enraptured by someone? Probably Yukito-san.

 

“Here, Rika-chan, come test out the piano,” called out Leiyun.

 

Rika played a scale, then a few more. “It sounds good,” she said timidly.

 

“Well, let’s start from the top,” said Leiyun. But the school bell rang just rung, to all of their relief. “Your homework,” he called out as everyone groaned. “Memorize the notes and lyrics! Or better yet, learn how to read music!”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Do you think Nomura-sensei is going to be away for long?” groaned Sakura, dressed in a fluffy pink pajama with white polka dots, hair tied back in short pigtails.

 

Meilin and Miho were also gathered in Tomoyo’s bedroom for a sleepover. The four girls had platters of lovely rose, lavender and citron macarons, little strawberry tarts, dainty finger sandwiches and tea in pretty hand-painted porcelain pots and cups. Tomoyo even provided them matching pastel-toned pajamas, and they had just finished painting their nails in spring hues. They flipped through stacks of glossy fashion magazines, waiting for their nails to dry, while Miho read the Financial Times.

 

“I heard his mother is really ill, so he might be out for some time,” Meilin said, letting Tomoyo plait the ends of her hair and tuck them up into Mickey Mouse buns.

 

Miho chuckled. “You guys had music class with Li-sensei too? He’s really strange, but I actually don’t mind him as our music teacher. He’s more fun that Nomura-sensei, albeit a bit unconventional.”

 

Sakura snorted. “Fun?”

 

“Yeah, he let’s Shouji-kun play the electric guitar in accompaniment, and we play a rock version of the song we’re learning,” replied Miho, setting down her newspaper. “But I’m rather curious about what Li Leiyun is up to now. He’s a hard nut to crack.”

 

“He’s just looking out for Syaoran, now that he’s the Great Elder,” said Meilin. “I mean, Leiyun’s always been eccentric.”

 

“Or psychopathic,” muttered Sakura under her breath.

 

“Miho-chan, do you still want to become a journalist, like your mother, when you grow up?” asked Meilin, impressed at Miho reading a British economic paper.

 

“Yup—I’ve always wanted to write,” said Miho.

 

Meilin groaned. “You’re only a freshman and you already know what you want to do.”

 

“Oh, I heard from Kaho that you are working on your career surveys,” said Miho. “I’d never seen Eriol look so stumped by an assignment before. I mean, you can’t really tell the reincarnation of Clow Reed that he’s unambitious, but Kaho might just have done that the other day.”

 

This drew a chuckle from Tomoyo. She would have loved to see Eriol’s expression.

 

Lying on her belly, resting her chin on both hands, Miho said, “Well, Sakura-senpai, onto the most important issue. So, tell us, what’s going on between you and Syaoran-senpai?”

 

Sakura nearly choked on her cut of hot chocolate. “N-nothing,” she stammered, floundered by the younger girl’s straightforward question.

 

With a long sigh, Miho, flipping over onto her back said, “Boring. After all that fiasco, with Syaoran-senpai returning from Hong Kong against all odds, there’s nothing going on between you two? Either you are the best liars in the world, or you are just hopeless!”

 

Meilin shook her head. “Those two are a bit different. I think having too much magical powers addled there ability to function in normal day-to-day activities.”

 

“Different?” snorted Miho. “More like medieval.” She bolted up and peered straight into Sakura’s face. “Sakura-senpai! Do you even like Syaoran-senpai? As a guy?”

 

Sakura swallowed hard, backing away from the vicious younger girl. “He’s a very important friend. He always has been. And now, he’s a very important member of the Alliance of Stars too.” She was rambling to a question she would have been able to answer so easily even until the end of junior high. Yes, of course she did.

 

Tomoyo sighed. “Poor Syaoran-kun.”

 

Miho collapsed on her bottom again and declared, “Hopeless!”

 

“I’ve already reached that conclusion years ago—let them go at their pace,” remarked Meilin. She scrolled through the rows and rows of footages from Sakura’s Card Captor escapades that Tomoyo had accumulated over the years and saved on her master computer used for her film editing. The only student who had a fancier computer than Tomoyo that she knew of was Kai. She popped a disc into the DVD player. A nostalgic figure popped up on the screen, a young brunette boy in a green and gold Chinese battle costume, with a magnificent scowl. He was standing in front of a large recreational van, Tomoyo’s vehicle of choice to store Sakura’s multitude of costumes.

 

“Oh, I forgot how young we were,” sighed Meilin. “When was that?”

 

Tomoyo glanced over to see the clip that was playing. “That must have been in fifth grade, not long after Syaoran transferred to our elementary school. Before you came to Tomoeda, Meilin-chan.”

 

An off-screen female voice said, “Li-kun, I’m sorry, I hope you don’t mind waiting until Sakura-chan finishes changing into a new outfit I made for her. You must think it a bother having to wait and a waste of time.”

 

Syaoran turned to look straight at the camera—to Tomoyo—the owner of the voice. “I don’t think it a bother,” he responded, in the curt manner he used to speak to everyone when he first transferred to Tomoeda. “A warrior wears his armor before going to battle, an archer strings his bow. I too wear the Li Clan robes as the Chosen One. So, it is natural to take the necessary steps to prepare to fight the Clow Cards, and changing into the right clothes is not a waste of time.”

 

Tomoyo said to him, “Thank you for understanding. And I also hope you don’t mind me videotaping Sakura-chan. Please let me know if I am ever a hindrance when you guys are tracking down the Clow Cards.”

 

“I would have told you already if you were being a hindrance,” said Syaoran to the camera. “But you’ve been pretty helpful in multiple occasions. Just don’t get yourself in trouble. It will make that girl sad.”

 

With a chuckle, the young Tomoyo from off-screen said, “You’re actually a pretty nice guy, aren’t you Li-kun?”

 

And then, from inside the van, they heard a long wail. “HOOEEEE! I can’t go out wearing this Tomoyo-chan.” The camera was still focused on Syaoran, and the corner of his lips almost curled upwards a bit before he returned to a stone face, as if he knew not how to smile.  

 

Miho chuckled. “So I guess this was the moment that Syaoran-senpai was officially approved by you, and you forgave him for horribly bullying Sakura-senpai?”

 

“Of course!” exclaimed Tomoyo, eyes sparkling. “I met a kindred spirit who understood the significance of the battle costumes I made for Sakura-chan.”

 

“I think he just equally enjoyed seeing Sakura in all those outrageous get-ups,” muttered Meilin under her breath. 

 

The clip then cut away to another never-seen before segment, some time later on in the year, during the time Sakura had to convert Clow Cards into Sakura Cards—it was easy to tell because she had her pink star wand now.

 

After several more segments, Miho snorted. “Sakura-senpai, did you just conveniently fall into the direction of Syaoran-senpai’s arms every time you fainted after exhausting your powers from converting a new Sakura Card?” 

 

Sakura said aghast, “No, I mean, I didn’t realize I did that!” She watched her 10-year-old self collapse into Syaoran’s arms another time, then another. Her memory of those times after she converted Clow Cards, especially during the early stages, were very hazy because she would immediately fall asleep afterward from overexertion. And somehow, Tomoyo and Kero-chan would have dropped her off home discreetly later on in the night.

 

She watched the young Syaoran take her in his arms.

 

“Is she all right?” asked Tomoyo’s worried voice from off-screen.

 

“She’s just sleeping,” replied 10-year-old Syaoran. He gently carried her to Tomoyo’s van and set her into the backseat. Then, he strapped the seatbelt around her. “Keep her hydrated, and make sure to feed her a snack when she wakes up later.”

 

“She seems a bit feverish,” remarked Kero-chan, placing a paw on Sakura’s cheek.

 

With a frown, Syaoran placed the back of his hand over her forehead. “Her body is burning more energy to replenish all the magic she used.” He took out a ward and murmured some chants.

 

“What did you do?” asked Kero-chan suspiciously.

 

“Just cooled her down a bit,” said Syaoran. “Well, I’m really heading off now. Call me if the fever goes up again.”

 

The segment blacked out, and Sakura turned to Tomoyo. “I didn’t realize that I put you guys through so much trouble back in those days. I’m sorry!”

 

Tomoyo replied, “I didn’t do anything. It was Syaoran who eventually ended up lugging you home all the time.”  

 

“This is fun,” said Miho, leaning toward the screen. “I didn’t see any of this in your Card Captor Sakura film that won the Best Young Director Award in New York. Why didn’t you include these segments, Tomoyo-senpai?”

 

Tomoyo suddenly stood up, nearly upsetting her balls of yarn, and turned off the TV as if recalling the rest of what was on the DVD. “That’s just my random compilation of behind-the-scenes extras that I found when clearing my old hard drive,” she said. “Back then, I was only interested in filming Sakura-chan, but I had a lot of random shots of Syaoran as well, while we were waiting around for Sakura. I might have enough material to do a Syaoran POV edit someday.”

 

Sakura remarked, “You two always were engaged in some deep conversation back then, considering just how talkative Syaoran used to be, when I wasn’t around, and hushed up when I came over. Especially that semester when Eriol transferred.” Syaoran, who never opened up to anyone, seemed to be easily able to confide in Tomoyo. Well, anybody would find it easy to talk with Tomoyo, after all.

 

Tomoyo groaned at this—of course they hushed up when Sakura came along, because their main topic of conversation had been her. More precisely, Syaoran’s feelings for Sakura. That Tomoyo had out of courtesy for him edited out.

 

Meilin, catching on to the drift, switched the subject adroitly. “Say Tomoyo-chan, are you going to enroll in a film school when you graduate from high school?”

 

“Maybe,” replied Tomoyo with a shrug. “But I like fashion too. I’ve been thinking I would like to launch my own design label someday. Though I’ll have to inherit Daidouji Toy Company, so I’m not sure how that will work out.”

 

“I heard you were offered a scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music in London?” asked Miho. “The recruiters were impressed from your solo in the choral competition last year.”

 

“Oh, I heard from Kai who heard it from the art teacher it was the London College of Fashion,” remarked Meilin.

 

With a smile, Tomoyo merely said, “I don’t have plans to study abroad at the moment.”

 

Sakura turned silent. Tomoyo really was so multi-talented and creative she wouldn’t be surprised if her best friend would be able to pursue fashion, film and music somehow in unison.

 

And Meilin turned glum, burying her head into a pillow. “I’m a failure in life!”

 

“No you’re not. I know how much you do for Syaoran with all his Great Elder business,” said a male voice from the movie screening room.

 

“Kai!” exclaimed Meilin. Then she took a pillow and flung it at her boyfriend. “What are you doing here? This is an all-girl’s sleepover party. It’s not your place to crash it.” She retrieved the pillow she had thrown at him and began whacking him over and over again.

 

Miho rolled her eyes, popping a rose macaron with raspberry filling into her mouth. “Idiot brother.”  

 

“Oh wait, Meilin-chan! I invited Kai-kun over!” exclaimed Tomoyo. “He was adding special effects to my latest film, and then my mother had to talk to him about some surveillance programming since Daidouji Toy Company got hacked last month.”


“I heard about that,” said Miho. “Did you find the culprit?”

 

“Police are still tracing the IP address,” replied Tomoyo.

 

“Do you want a sandwich?” asked Sakura, holding up a platter for Kai.

 

Kai grabbed a ham and cheese finger sandwich, and said with a wave of his other hand, “Well, I’m leaving now, as cute as you girls look in your matching pajamas. Enjoy the rest of the sleepover. Maybe I can convince Syao-chan to hold our own sleepover. Though we won’t have matching pajamas. And I like to sleep in the buff.”

 

Miho through her pillow at her brother. “Go!”

 

Deftly, Kai took out his smartphone and snapped a picture of Sakura, in her soft pink polka-dotted pajamas and cute pigtails, forwarding it to Syaoran’s number. “You can thank me later,” he murmured to the phone.

 

Tomoyo exclaimed, “Oh, if you’re going back home, Kai-kun, do take Syaoran’s favorite cherry pie back for him. It’s freshly baked and in the kitchen. Sakura-chan, be a dear and fetch it for Kai-kun?”

 

“Sure!” Sakura hopped off to the kitchen, wondering if Syaoran wasn’t more partial to strawberry shortcakes.

 

When Sakura was out of earshot, Kai remarked, “I can just wrap her up and bring Syaoran’s most favorite cherry pie to him instead.”

 

With a long sigh, Miho said, “So, do you think Syaoran-senpai and Sakura-senpai are going out?”

 

Meilin snorted. “I can guarantee you that they are not.”

 

“Why?” asked Miho. “Are you sure? I mean, they went behind our backs and turned out to be all plotting together all this time we thought they were sworn enemies.” 

 

“Miho, darling, there’s a huge jump between not being enemies and dating,” said Kai. “I would bet on the two needing a lot more time in order to adjust into being on the same team again.”

 

“That’s ridiculous—the two clearly are attracted to each other—they only have eyes for each other at school, pointed out Shouji-kun, the densest person I know, and we’re not even in the same class as them!” exclaimed Miho. “We’ve got to do something for them to realize their feelings for each other.”

 

“I don’t think it’s a matter of realizing feelings,” murmured Meilin. “It’s way beyond that point.”

 

“Should I handcuff them together again?” suggested Kai.

 

“No, something more dramatic,” said Miho. “Like locking them up together in a bedroom for 24 hours.”

 

Meilin shook her head. “Syaoran’s too much of a gentleman. He wouldn’t touch the tip of her lashes even if they were locked up together.”

 

Kai snorted. “You know, Syaoran is a guy too, a healthy, teenage guy, not some monk.”

 

“Don’t put Syaoran on the same level as you, pervert,” said Meilin.

 

At this, Tomoyo chuckled. “Sakura-chan is so naïve. I wonder if she’s not the one who would need an impetus.”

 

The other three glanced at each other and shuddered, for a plotting Tomoyo never boded well, though they agreed with her point.

 

Sakura came running back into Tomoyo’s bedroom, cheeks flushed. “Tomoyo-chan, there’s no cherry pie in the kitchen!”

 

“Oh, silly me,” said Tomoyo. She reached over to the coffee table and held up a white box tied up with a green and white striped ribbon to Kai. “I forgot, it’s right over here. Please give this to Syaoran-kun.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Students were abuzz that morning, and Syaoran sat rigidly at his desk, not even reading, as if awaiting doomsday.

 

“Did you enjoy Tomoyo-chan’s cherry pie last night?” asked Sakura, hair tied into two pigtails with green and white striped ribbons, setting down her book bag on her desk at school.

 

“What cherry pie?” asked Syaoran, blinking.

 

“The cherry pie Tomoyo asked Kai to bring to you,” replied Sakura. “In a white box.”

 

And suddenly Syaoran turned red, as if recalling what was in the white box. “Yes,” he replied curtly, looking away.

 

Realizing he was not in a talkative mood, Sakura looked around and asked, “So, what’s the big news?”

 

“Don’t you remember? It’s that time of the year again!” exclaimed Naoko, swirling around and hugging her arms to her. “The Seijou High School Cultural Festival!”

 

Syaoran groaned audibly from his seat.

 

“I wonder what we’re going to do this year!” said Meilin. “I’m so excited. It will be my first high school cultural festival. What did you guys do last year again?”

 

“We did a tea café with traditional costumes from England, China, India and Japan,” replied Chiharu. “It was a big hit.”

 

“Oh, I hope we can do a play this year though,” said Naoko.

 

“I’m pretty sure we will do a play,” said Tomoyo. “Class 2-2 always does a fairytale play. It’s tradition.”

 

“But I heard Class 3-2 wants to do a play as well, and they won’t be able to do two plays because of the time limit,” pointed out Aki.

 

“Didn’t their class do one last year?” asked Chiharu.

 

“It got canceled last minute because half the class got the flu,” said Aki.  

 

“I remember. They were awfully disappointed,” said Naoko. “But this is our year, after all.”

 

Mizuki Kaho entered the classroom. “Well, it’s seems like all of you have already figured out my announcement. Yes, the annual Cultural Festival is coming up. We need to brainstorm ideas of what you want to do by this week, so I’m open to hearing suggestions.”

 

Naoko raised her hand in the air. “A play! A fairytale play! It’s tradition!”

 

“No, not a play again,” moaned Syaoran.


Kaho glanced around the classroom. “Any other suggestions? No? Okay, then a play it is.” She took a chalk in her hand. “Now, what are some ideas for what play to put on? Remember, we have limited time and budget to produce one, so take that into consideration.”


“Snow White and the Seven Dwarves,” suggested Meilin. “The more characters, the better.”

 

Yamazaki Takashi called out, “Rumpelstiltskin,” while Chiharu overrode him with, “Pinocchio!”

 

Sakura pondered a minute. “Beauty and the Beast?”

 

Aki called out, “Sleeping Beauty!”

 

Syaoran glared at him from half way across the classroom. “I object!”

 

“Yeah, half of us in this class already put on a Sleeping Beauty play in elementary school,” said Naoko. “I say we should do the most classic of all fairytales—Cinderella!”

 

“Surely someone has done Cinderella already,” said Eron.

 

“No, the last time Cinderella was done is seven years ago—when Kinomoto Touya-senpai put on a legendary performance,” said Naoko. “I think that’s long ago enough that we can introduce our own fresh rendition of the story.”

 

“Well, let’s have a raise of hands to see who is okay with going with Cinderella,” said Mizuki-sensei. And most of the students raised their hands.

 

“Wait!” called out Syaoran frantically. “Are you going to cast the play using the ladder climbing game again?”

 

Kaho chuckled, thinking this was the most Syaoran vocal had ever been over a class project. “No, you guys are in high school. I’ll leave the casting, script and producing all up to the students. The class president is in charge. I’ll leave you guys to come up with a detailed proposal to submit to the student council.”

 

Eriol, who was the class president, said, “Well, first of all, the Class 3-2 representative approached me and asked if it’s okay to collaborate on a play for the cultural festival.”

 

“No, it would be awful to collaborate with the seniors!” said Naoko. “They’d want to take all the good roles and make us do all the grunt work. Why don’t they just put on their own play?”

 

“There is only time for one play during the cultural festival. And I got reassurance from the Class 3-2 rep that most of the students are busy with studying for college entrance exams anyway, so are up for doing more of the behind the scenes work. But they do have regret for not being able to put on a play last year.” Eriol looked around. “But if anyone has any serious objections, we can reconsider.”

 

“I think it’s a great idea,” said Tomoyo. “The more people we have, the grander the production will be!”

 

Rika nodded, “Many Class 3-2 senpai are in orchestra with me—they’re really nice.”

 

“Okay, then let’s take a quick vote,” said Eriol. “Raise your hand if you are in favor of a collaboration production with Class 3-2.” Most of the students raised their hands.

 

Sakura turned to Syaoran. “Wait, which class were Kara Reed and the Black Dragon in again?” Syaoran, who had been all for joining with Class 3-2, which meant less of a chance he would be cast as a female character, merely shrugged.

 

“Well, I guess since there is an overwhelming majority, I’ll let Class 3-2 know we have agreed on Cinderella,” said Mizuki-sensei.  

 

“Shouldn’t we ask them if they’re okay with doing Cinderella?” asked Chiharu.

 

“Actually, Cinderella was their first choice as well,” said Eriol. 

 

“I guess we need to figure out what kind of angle we’ll approach the story,” remarked Naoko, who had warmed up quickly to the idea of getting a chance to work with hot, single seniors.

 

“Can’t we just follow the same script from seven years ago?” asked Erika.

 

“That one was a little strange,” remarked Sakura.

 

Chiharu said, “If we need someone to come up with the script, Hiiragizawa-kun, you’re a good writer, and very imaginative. Why don’t you draft a script?”

 

“I will help!” exclaimed Takashi.

 

“That’s all right, Yamazaki-kun, we don’t need Cinderella’s adventures in outer space,” said Naoko. “Hiiragizawa-kun can come up with the script. Of course Tomoyo-chan would be our director—I doubt Class 3-2 would have a problem with that. And we can divide off the rest of the duties from there.”

 

“It seems like we’re passing all the work to the two of them again,” said Rika.

 

“They did a good job last year with the tea café, it’s fine,” said Naoko. “Besides, I bet Eriol-kun already has a script for Cinderella written out.”

 

“Actually, I do,” said Eriol. “Tomoyo-san?”

 

Tomoyo stood up and handed out copies of the script to the class. “Please take a look and if you have any suggestions, let us know.”

 

Naoko flipped through the pages. “This is good.” And she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I know we voted on this, but isn’t it fishy? It’s like Eriol-kun knew all along that we would decided on Cinderella and even agree with collaborating with Class 3-2. Look at the number of characters and scenes here—it would be impossible for just one class to produce. And how did Tomoyo-chan already even have the script photocopied?”

 

Chiharu whispered, “I think the two have been plotting to put on Cinderella since last year.”

 

And Rika nodded. “I believe they’ve already written the music score as well. I sort of overheard the two of them working on some in the music room after school the other day and mentioning they need a live orchestra, not a pre-recording.”

 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t Hiiragizawa-kun who pressured—I mean encouraged—Class 3-2 into joining in the production, because he needed more hands to carry out his vision,” pointed out Takashi.

 

Chiharu frowned. “Why did Mizuki-sensei ask us what we wanted to do, and why did Eriol-kun ask us to take a vote then, if everything was already planned out?”

 

“It gives us the illusion of having a choice, when everything was actually predetermined,” replied Takashi. “It was inevitable that we put on a Cinderella play.”

 

Naoko sighed. “I guess it’s best not to meddle in the affairs of Hiiragizawa Eriol and Daidouji Tomoyo. Between the two of them, they’d be able to take over the school if they wanted to. They may have already done so, and we just don’t know it yet. Now that’s decided, we have even more interesting things to discuss.” Naoko held up a photo spread from a magazine. “Sakura-chan, this is you, isn’t it?”

 

“What’s that?” Sakura looked up and paled.

 

Naoko waved around the May edition of Gothic Lolita Bible. “I almost didn’t recognize you—it’s so different from all the other concepts you’ve done until now.”

 

The girls of the classroom gathered around Naoko and marveled at the glossy spread of Sakura in an intricate maroon pinafore lined with black lace surrounded by gray ruins in a post-apocalyptic set. “Oh, look, the designer of the outfit is listed as Daidouji Tomoyo. No wonder—they’re magnificent,” Rika remarked. “What a beautiful dress, though I’d never have the courage to wear something so bold and elaborate.”

 

They flipped the page and squealed at the shot of Sakura with her arms wrapped around a male model, looking over his shoulder straight into the camera.

 

“How daring!” exclaimed Chiharu with a blush. “Sakura-chan, I didn’t know you had this in you.”

 

“It’s quite scandalous,” remarked Meilin, looking over Chiharu’s shoulder. “Look Kai, the male model is wearing your dream outfit.”

 

“The model’s shoulders are so broad,” Naoko sighed. “I wonder if he’s someone famous? He looks sort of familiar, but his name isn’t listed.”

 

Meilin peered closer at the boy, in black distressed leather with silver buckles. His face was cast in a shadow, but there was indeed something very familiar about the jawline and his silhouette.

 

“You know, the more I look, he seems to resemble Li-kun greatly,” Chiharu remarked.

 

Four pairs of female eyes narrowed in on Li Syaoran, reading nonchalantly at his window desk.

 

“Look at that profile,” Chiharu said, holding up the magazine and glancing in between Syaoran and the glossy photo spread.

 

“It can’t be Li-kun—I’m sure he was in Hong Kong or feuding with Sakura when this photo shoot took place,” remarked Naoko. “Besides, this model is so much hotter than Li-kun—can you imagine the proper Li-kun in such delinquent, tattered punk-Goth clothes that maybe only Kai-kun would be able to pull off in real life. Right, Tomoyo-chan?”

 

“R-right,” stammered Tomoyo. “Of course Syaoran-kun wouldn’t do something so crazy as stepping into a photo shoot and taking over for a professional male model because he was jealous of some other guy getting up and close to Sakura-chan.” She covered her mouth with her hands to smother a giggle when Syaoran jerked his head from the other end of the room and shot her a sizzling death glare over his book.

 

“I guess you are right,” said Chiharu dubiously.

 

“Sakura-chan, you must have things easy with your career form,” remarked Rika with a sigh. “You already have your modeling career started.”

 

“Eh?” Sakura looked up in surprise at the unexpected suggestion. “I’m not sure if this really is my dream though. It’s more like… a part time job right now. I had an opportunity to take some photos, that’s all.”

 

“No, you’re getting pretty popular among the middle and high school crowd,” said Chiharu. “I think you have your own fan site online.”

 

“I’m pretty sure Tomoyo-chan is the administrator,” murmured Sakura.

 

“Are you signed to a modeling agency?” asked Naoko.

 

“No,” said Sakura slowly. “Tomoyo-chan has been overseeing the bookings.”

 

“We know Tomoyo-chan is not ordinary, but she can’t really be your manager forever, especially once you begin to establish a name for yourself,” remarked Naoko. “No offense Tomoyo-chan, but you’re a high schooler too and there must be professionals who look after these kinds of things.”

 

Tomoyo smiled. “There have been several calls from scouting agents, and I told Sakura-chan about them. But she declined all of them so far.”

 

“Why?” asked Chiharu. “This could be the start of your modeling career!”

 

“I’m not sure if I’m ready for that,” replied Sakura. “There’s school, and it’s a very important time for all of us with university prep.” And of course, there was the business about being a Card Mistress.

 

“But you enjoy modeling?” asked Rika.

 

Sakura said slowly, “I do enjoy photo shoots though it’s embarrassing at times. I like it best when I am wearing clothes designed by Tomoyo-chan.”

 

“Wasn’t your mother a famous model?” asked Naoko. “Her perfume ad is still famous.”

 

Chiharu nudged her friend on the side for bringing up an insensitive topic, but Sakura just smiled and said, “Yes part of the reason I started doing this in the first place was because it made me feel a little big closer to my mother. My mother was said to have been really shy in general. But she was not shy in front of the camera.”

 

And then, Sakura recalled how she had dipped her foot into the modeling world in the first place. It was thanks to the award-winning American photographer Mike Kant and that eventful photo shoot at the Empire State Building in New York three winters ago with Syaoran.

 

“There are many girls dying to be in your position,” said Naoko. “If you are so half-hearted about modeling, someone will come take your place.”

 

“Well, Sakura-chan is in high demand right now,” remarked Tomoyo. “She was offered a cover shoot opportunity for the Seventeen summer edition. Though she hasn’t accepted it yet. Sakura-chan, are you going to take it? We have to get back to them by this week.”

 

“A cover shoot for Seventeen is a big deal Sakura-chan!” exclaimed Chiharu.

 

“It’s with two other girls who are exclusive models with the magazine,” Tomoyo said. “But I think I can negotiate putting Sakura-chan as center. In fact, I think we can lose the other girls all together—what do you think Sakura-chan?”

 

“I’m not sure why they wanted me,” said Sakura. “I’m only an amateur.”

 

“You’ve got to have more confidence in yourself—or you won’t get far!” stated Naoko. “You’re our Sakura-chan. You’re adorable and everybody will love you!”

 

“Yeah if you go for the average, klutzy schoolgirl type,” remarked Erika, who had overhead the conversation. “Frankly, I don’t think you are model material, Sakura-chan. You better quit early on, before you are crushed in the big league and make an utter fool of yourself.” She considered herself an expert on the issue since she had once dated a professional photographer and a male model.

 

Chiharu whispered to Sakura, who was fuming in her chair, “Erika-chan’s just jealous. You are klutzy, it’s true, but that’s part of your charm.”

 

“Erika-chan is taller and has a better figure though,” pointed out Aki. “And she has that glamorous look popular in teen magazine nowadays.” When all of Sakura’s friends glared at him, he retorted, “Hey, my sister started out in modeling, and I’m just pointing out the truth!”

 

“Oh yeah, you and Akagi Arima were in that Vogue Nippon jewelry spread,” Naoko said. “You were beautiful, like a Grecian goddess! I heard Masuda-senpai from Class 3-2 posted that pictorial up on his locker!”

 

Syaoran’s eyes narrowed and he muttered, “Who the heck is Masuda?”

 

Tomoyo replied, “Masuda Yoichi-senpai, you know, the basketball team point guard. He’s very popular.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Heaving a long sigh, Sakura sank into a wooden bench outside of the school. She took out her career survey sheet from her folder and stared at the green-leaved trees. Her latest magazine photo shoot had gathered much more attention from her peers than she had expected, which was odd because her photos had been printed in magazines before. Then again, this was the first time her name had been printed so boldly. Of course, it was also because Tomoyo’s designs were stunning and had created quite a sensation. She had heard the limited-edition dresses had sold out in one day. It was through that photo shoot she had realized modeling could be quite fun—the other times, she had always been nervous and afraid of making a mistake.

 

“Why don’t you enjoy your sudden fame a little bit, instead of hiding out here?” remarked Chang Eron, who had slinked up beside her without a sound. And uninvited, he took a seat next to her on the bench. He saw that she had her career survey sheet in her hand. “You haven’t turned that in yet?”

 

Sakura shook her head. “You already completed it?”

 

“Yeah, what’s to think about? It’s just a sheet of paper. You can change your mind later, if you want, it’s not like it’s going to determine or change your fate based on what you write here,” he replied, his golden eyes gleaming. “What’s important is not tomorrow, but today, what you feel like doing now.”

 

“And what do you want to do?” asked Sakura.

 

Eron shrugged. “I’m interested in architecture. I’m not good at art or design, but I think engineering is more along my line.”

 

It fit Eron well, she thought, since he was good at physics. “Are you following your Uncle Reiji’s footsteps? He was a talented architect, wasn’t he?”

 

“And what about you? Are you going to follow your mother’s footsteps?”

 

“Do you think it’s foolish of me to do so?” she asked. “It’s not something I ever thought much of. But it’s something I am interested in finding out more about.”

 

“Why not, if you enjoy it,” replied Eron. “You shouldn’t care about what others think. You should do the Seventeen cover, if the reason you are hesitating is because you think it’s going to interfere with the dark forces business. You don’t have to put your life on halt to be Card Mistress. Being the Card Mistress is a part of your identity, but it isn’t all you are.”

 

Sakura stared up at Eron, who was now looking up at the blue sky with a much more relaxed look that she had seen in the past three years of knowing him.

 

He smiled slightly, as if feeling her gaze upon him. “I’m glad you are talking to me normally. I got the sense you’ve been evading me a bit ever since you came back from the dead. Or should I say, the Dragon Isles.”

 

She instinctively fiddled with a crystal hanging from her neck, whole once more.

 

“I meant to ask, how did you go about fixing the Eye of the Dragon?” asked Eron. “It must not have been an easy feat.”

 

Sakura had avoided the memory altogether, of meeting Chang Ryouta while she was in the Cavern of Reservoirs, of how he had helped her piece together the broken stone. She recalled how Ryouta had stared down with those wild golden eyes and told her, “I did something unforgiveable to my brother. Even though he betrayed me, I didn’t want to hurt him. At least, now I realize I didn’t want to damage him like I did.” She could still feel his iron grip on her wrist, and she stared down at her opened left hand, where he had slit her palm open with a bloodied blade. Because blood was needed to bind the cracked crystal.

 

“Did you get that scar on your palm there?” he asked.

 

Sakura quickly closed her hand into a fist again, hiding the thin white line that crossed her palm, paling. “No, it’s from cheerleading practice.”

 

Eron smiled thinly. “You always were a horrible liar, Sakura.”

 

She stared down at her lap. “Say, Eron, I know Chang Reiji-san died because of the Plague, like my mother, but did you ever find out how Ryouta-san died?”

 

“Who knows,” he replied. “He could have rotted in hell for all I care.”

 

“You shouldn’t say that about him. He was your father.”

 

“Why defend the Dark One who ended up killing your mother?” said Eron in a low tone. “Unless you perhaps, you met with Chang Ryouta in the Dragon Isles.”

 

“I did meet your father,” she replied slowly. “He was the one who helped me fix the Dragon’s Eye.” 

 

“He’s not the kind of person who would have just done it for nothing,” remarked Eron. “Surely he was up to something.”

 

“No, I think it was for you and Erika.”

 

“Is that what he said? That all the things he has done are for our benefit?” Eron laughed shortly. “That man has no soul, I’m pretty sure. He abandoned Erika and me because he didn’t want us. He abandoned our mother. He betrayed his brother.” 

 

Sakura stared up at him and blurted out, “You knew.” No, he could not know what Ryouta did to Yoshida Eriko, to get in between her and Reiji, his betrayal of the two people he must have cared for the most. Chang Ryouta’s cynical smile, the cold way he had told her what he had done to Reiji and Eri, still were vivid in her mind. And she could never bring herself to tell Eron and Erika of what had transpired 17 years ago, how Ryouta described how he had seduced Eri, pretending to be his twin brother.

 

“What? That Ryouta took my mother from my uncle?” Eron smiled thinly. “It’s not hard to piece together. Ever since you found the old yearbook last autumn, and I figured out that Uncle Reiji and my mother were probably dating back then, I thought long and hard why it wasn’t Uncle Reiji who ended up being my mother. And of course it naturally dawned upon me that Ryouta probably came in between them. He probably pulled a deplorable trick. I don’t blame him. After all, I would have done the same, probably.”

 

Sakura shook her head. “No, that’s not true.”

 

“But I am my father’s son, after all. I tricked you, too. I made you forget your memories of Syaoran. I kept it from you that his powers were returning. I took advantage of you, Sakura.” He stared at her with gold-flecked hazel eyes.

 

“No, you are not alike, Eron-kun,” said Sakura, shaking her head, tears welling in her eyes. Could she describe the deep loathing she had for his father, a terrifying and cruel man who had seem more savage than human when she had met him? If was a horrible feeling, the loathing she had felt for that man, the first time she had ever wanted someone dead. “You are not like Ryouta-san at all. Don’t compare yourself to him.”

 

And Eron tilted his head. “Is that why you have been avoiding me Sakura? Because you met my father in the Dragon Isles and found him so horrible and repulsive, you found it difficult to face me?”

 

“He was a broken man,” said Sakura softly. She was sure she hated Chang Ryouta for killing Syaoran’s father, for what he did to her mother and Mizuki Miara, for crushing Reiji and Eri’s future together. But no matter what wrongdoings he had done in his lifetime, she was sure Ryouta was sincere in wanting to protect the twins.

 

“You were worried for me.” Eron reached over and brushed a single tear from her cheek. “Are you crying for me? Why? Uncle Reiji was our father, for all that matters. So you do not have to pity Erika or me. I do not resent growing up without parents. Because I had Erika, from the very beginning. We were never alone. And in that, I think we are very blessed.”

 

 

 

From the second floor of the school building, Kai watched Syaoran stare down the hallway window and followed the direction of his gaze. Leaning over Syaoran’s shoulder, Kai whispered, “Eron made Sakura cry again.”

 

Besides them, Tomoyo zoomed her camcorder closer. “Wait, they’re embracing each other. He put her arms around her, and she not really protesting. Oh, she’s smiling up at him now.” She cracked the window open further, and Kai had to hold Tomoyo by the nape of her blazer so that she didn’t topple out. “Kai-kun, can’t you use your wind powers to carry the sound up here or something? I can’t hear what they’re saying.”

 

Kai snickered. “I think it goes something like this.” In a high-pitched voice, he mimicked Sakura. “Hoe, Eron-pyon, you shouldn’t do something like this at school. What if someone sees?” Then, he put on a deeper voice. “Sakura-chan, I can’t hold back my feelings for you.” In a high voice, he continued, “Oh, Eron-pyon, this is so embarrassing.”

 

Tomoyo chuckled. “Kai-kun, you’re genius at doing voices—no wonder you are the master of disguises. Say, Syaoran-kun, isn’t he amazing?”

 

But Syaoran, reaching over them, slid the window shut again and walked away with a deep scowl.

 

With a low whistle, Kai commented, “Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed.”  

 

Eriol remarked from behind them with a thin smile, “I always thought that was just his natural expression.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Eriol-kun, how is a soul kept in tact after a person dies?” asked Sakura, staring at a thick book of runes which she could not read.

 

Eriol replied, “Usually, the person before dying must have a very strong desire to continue on.”

 

Surely there was more to preserving a soul, but Eriol did not seem willing to explain further that day, as he shut a thick book on magic origins written by Clow Reed and said, “Well, that’s enough for today’s lesson.”

 

Inspired by how hard Syaoran was working as the newly inaugurated Li Clan Great Elder, Sakura had renewed her determination to become the best Card Mistress possible. And to do that, she knew she had a lot more to learn—she refused to have the Li Clan, especially Leiyun, question her capabilities as Mistress of the Sakura Cards. She started out by seeking out Eriol for extra lessons on the theory of Clow Reed’s magic, and he gladly obliged. Sakura enjoyed her one-on-one sessions with Eriol immensely—he had a knack for explaining things so that she could understand Clow’s complicated books with more ease and was always patient with her. Along with lessons in the theory of magic with Eriol, Mizuki Kaho offered to teach her about Shintoism and onmyodo. Sometimes Miho and Tomoyo sat in the sessions with her as well. Suppi-chan gave crash courses on the history of eastern and western magic—unlike Kero-chan, who would have the same knowledge but was rather scatterbrained in his explanations, Spinel Sun was very logical, calm and unbiased in his interpretations. To Sakura’s chagrin, most of the basics she learned was learning freshly were review to Miho, who had been trained directly under Eriol since she was 10. Tomoyo, though she did not have magic powers, simply enjoyed the additional knowledge, as well as confirming the hypotheses she had formed over the years. Meilin then volunteered to train Sakura in martial arts. Sakura had learned the basics from Syaoran in junior high, but Meilin insisted that it was important to keep up with self-defense. Sakura soon learned that Syaoran must have gone easy on her, for Meilin was indeed a tough training master.

 

Sakura knew it would take time to work on gaining back the full trust of the members of the Alliance of the Stars ever since she deceived them last month, orchestrating her own death—or to be more precise, the death of her clone. However, she was grateful for their efforts to reach out to her, for it was also their way of telling her that they had forgiven her. And Syaoran too had entered in the ranks of the Alliance and blended in as if he had always been there. In a sense, he had been always there, for without Syaoran, there was no Alliance, at least in her mind.

 

The Alliance of the Stars tried to meet at least once or twice a week, even if there was no dark force to capture. Touya, Yukito and Nakuru usually were not able to make it to all the meetings because of work, but the others gathered at Clow Reed’s study, usually snacking upon a treat concocted by Eriol. Syaoran usually sat in one corner of the room, reading, while Eron would sit as far from him as possible, also reading. The girls—Miho, Meilin, Tomoyo and Sakura—usually chitchatted about any school gossip, latest fashion or interesting TV shows. Kai napped on the long sofa, while Kaho graded homework at the desk. Kero-chan and Suppi-chan played card games or checkers.

 

And Kero-chan remarked during one such meeting, “You know, should we be worried about how quiet everything’s been lately? I know last month was absolute chaos with all that went down, but there’s no sign of a dark force and everything’s so… peaceful.”

 

“Don’t jinx it,” groaned Kai. “Everyone’s busy with the cultural festival—maybe they don’t have time to cause mischief.”

 

“Well, instead of sitting around waiting to get attacked, maybe it’s high time we think of a countermove, to get to the core of the problem,” said Suppi-chan. “We are too lax, all the time.”

 

“We’re using this time on crash course training,” reminded Miho. “Sakura-senpai’s been working really hard on lessons with Eriol and Kaho.”


Meilin nodded, “Sakura-chan’s back kicks are impressive for a beginner.”

 

“Her athletic skills were always great,” Kero-chan stated. “But Suppi-chan is right, I think this might be the time for a counterstrike.”  

 

Tomoyo raised her hand. “I’m sorry, everyone, but we have far more urgent matters to attend to today.”

 

“More urgent than a strategy to take down the Dark Ones?” drawled Nakuru, who had just gotten off duty and returned home, still in her white nurse uniform.

 

“Yes.” Tomoyo turned to Sakura. “You’ve got to decide if you will take the Seventeen magazine summer edition cover shoot and swimwear spread by tomorrow.”

 

“Oh my, you got an offer from Seventeen Japan! It’s my favorite magazine. You must take it!” exclaimed Miho, clasping her hands together. “What are you hesitating for?”

 

“Wait, by swimwear, does it mean Sakura-chan will be photographed in those skimpy little bikinis?” asked Kai, eying Syaoran who was reading on the corner couch. “That’ll be quite an eyeful.” 

 

Meilin said, “You always make everything sound so perverse. It’s a girls’ fashion magazine.”

 

“Sakura-chan will totally rock the cover, you should do it,” said Nakuru. “Just don’t let your brother find out.” Touya and Yukito were still on duty at Kinhoshi Hospital, hence missing from this meeting.

 

“So, Sakura-chan, should I say you will do it?” asked Tomoyo.

 

Sakura opened her mouth and shut it again. For a second, her eyes lingered on the brown-haired boy with his head buried in a book throughout the whole conversation.

 

“Well, if this is a career-making once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to break into the modeling world, I don’t see what you are hesitating over,” remarked Eron. “I thought you said you were interested in trying out modeling, to follow your mother’s footsteps.”

 

Tomoyo glanced up at Eron, amused to find that Sakura had confided in her modeling concerns, which she remained so tightlipped about even to her best friend, to the former Dark One. Was that what they had been talking about earlier by the benches?

 

“I still don’t know,” said Sakura. “Everything’s happening so fast. I mean, my duties as a Card Mistress is definitely my first priority. And occasional photo shoots are fun but anything more at this point seems too much.”

 

“Oh don’t be silly!” said Miho. “It’s not like we are being attacked by dark forces every day, and you have the entire Star Alliance who has your back—unlike your days as Card Captor when you were on you own.”

 

“Hey, I was there too!” exclaimed Kero-chan. “And Tomoyo-chan. And the Brat, sometimes, when he wasn’t interfering.” To Kero-chan’s surprise, Syaoran did not even protest. In fact, the Brat seemed to have been in a fouler mood than usual all afternoon long.

 

Eriol smiled. “Well, I think it will be an interesting endeavor for our Card Mistress.”

 

“Well, I think everyone’s said their two-cents, whether asked for or not,” said Kai. “Well, almost everyone, that is. Syaoran, surely you think Sakura-chan should do the swimwear shoot too.”

 

Syaoran slowly set down his book. “Actually, I don’t think you should do it, Sakura.”

 

“Why?” asked Sakura, blinking.

 

Meilin rolled her eyes. “It’s obvious why. Syaoran, you are so old-fashioned. Everybody does swimsuit modeling these days.”

 

“Nadeshiko-san didn’t,” stated Syaoran.

 

“That’s like a generation ago,” said Meilin. “I mean, didn’t you guys even have a swimsuit portion during the Young Designer Contest last year?”

 

“Well, they were pretty covered up,” pointed Miho. “Tomoyo-senpai’s designs are always rather modest.”

 

Kai said, “You’re such a prude, Syao-chan—you just don’t want some pervert old photographer sizing up and down Sakura only clad in some skimpy swimwear. I mean, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for Sakura to move ahead in the modeling world. You know how hard it’s to break into the industry?”

 

“Of course you would know all about the modeling industry with all the models you’ve dated in the past,” remarked Eron offhandedly.

 

Despite the jab, Kai only gave Eron a lazy grin, but Meilin’s eyes narrow. “You dated models too? Who?”

 

“I won’t soil your ears with all the sordid details of my past. Some things are best left buried,” said Kai. “I was a thief. Sometimes, I had to use connections to get near my target, be it idols, actresses or wealthy matriarchs.”

 

“Oh, do spare us,” said Miho, rolling her eyes. “What do you think of this, Syaoran-senpai?”

 

Syaoran glanced up at Sakura and said slowly. “I disagree that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It’s just one magazine shoot. You will have other chances. One where you can remain covered.”

 

Kai whistled lowly at the thorn of the last remark, inching away from the pair as Sakura, temper ignited, glared up at Syaoran and declared, “It’s not just a magazine shoot to me! It could be my first and last chance to land a cover.”

 

“Did you tell your brother about this? He's okay with you taking part in swimwear shoots and getting serious about modeling?" Syaoran asked her staidly.

 

Sakura opened her mouth and shut it again. Of course she hadn’t told Touya about it. He would surely stop her from doing it—he had always been overprotective all his life.

 

Seeing the stunned look on Sakura's face, he continued, "You haven't told him yet, have you? Why? Because you don't want to bother him with trivial matters? Or maybe, you are afraid of what he has to say?"

 

"It's not that!" exclaimed Sakura. "I will tell him. Eventually."

 

"Why, because you are afraid of hearing him tell you it's okay to take your time to think things through carefully? That you don't have to rush in?” Syaoran looked her in the eye. “Because, if I were your brother, that's what I would say."

 

"Well you aren't my brother!" retorted Sakura.

 

Syaoran gave her a pensive stare. "No, I'm not."

 

A knife could cut through the tension in the room and nobody dared to even breathe as they watched Syaoran stand up abruptly and pass Sakura. He told her quietly, “Sorry if I overstepped my boundaries. After all, it is ultimately your decision to make,” then brusquely walked out of the room.

 

Tomoyo instantly locked eyes Eriol who appeared to be suppressing a smile.

 

Miho’s jaw dropped. “Did he just say what I thought he said?”

 

Kai chuckled, “Syaoran’s such a Victorian at heart. How endearing.”

 

“Shush, look,” whispered Meilin, jabbing Kai in the ribs. “Sakura-chan’s furious.”

 

Adding fuel to the fire, Kero-chan remarked out loud, “How brazen of the Brat. What is with that patronizing attitude—maybe he doubts your professionalism, Sakura.”

 

And a livid Sakura bolted up from her seat, fists clenched into balls, the ends of her hair curled upward. “I know, right? Who does he think he is? What right does he have to be so condescending? He’s always like that, always undermining me, ever since the day we met. Tomoyo, let Seventeen know I’ll do the beach shoot!”

 

Kai gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Well, Sakura-chan, I don’t necessarily blame him. I made my start in the underworld, so I know Syaoran’s concerns are not completely unfounded. What goes on behind the scenes in modeling, the entertainment industry in general, is not always pretty. I’ve met some seedy individuals in the business, and I’ve seen firsthand some of the darker aspects of that industry. But you have a very strong support system around you who will not let you come into any harm. So, go with your gut instinct.”

 

Meilin, arms crossed and head tilted, remarked, “Comes a day when it’s Mizuki Kai going around giving the soundest career advise.”

 

“I’ve lived quite a bit longer and harder than the rest of you young’uns,” drawled Kai. “How thrilling. As much as I dote upon a lovey-dovey Sakura and Syaoran, I love heat and flames Saku-Syao even more. Don’t pretend to look troubled—I know you do too, Tomoyo.”

 

“I can’t help it Sakura looks so cute when she’s mad,” mumbled Tomoyo, twiddling her thumb, wondering if she should feel guilty about being the instigator of this disastrous meeting, or whether she should be slightly concerned that Eriol was cackling to himself over by the corner sofa.

 

“And I thought this cultural festival alone was going to keep me plenty amused for the next several weeks,” remarked Kai gleefully.

 

“So, are you guys going with Cinderella for the festival?” asked Miho.

 

“Yup, how did you know?” asked Meilin.

 

“I edited the script per request of Eriol,” replied Miho. “Be thankful—it was much darker originally. He wanted to go with the Grimm Brothers version, including the doves pecking out the stepsisters’ eyes and the chopping off of the toes at the end.”

 

Meilin shuddered. “Hoe, Tomoyo-chan, you won’t let that happen, right?”

 

“Who’s going to play Cinderella?” asked Kero-chan eagerly. “Surely not the Brat?”

 

“Tomoyo-senpai, you should play Cinderella,” Miho said. “You’d look so lovely as the heroine. And I think Eriol wrote the script with you in mind as Cinderella.”

 

“Oh, Tomoyo-chan really would make a wonderful Cinderella,” said Sakura.

 

“Though I would rather enjoy seeing Syaoran-senpai play Cinderella as well,” remarked Miho.

 

“I’d pay money to see that,” agreed Kai. “But you do realize who’s in Class 3-2, right?”

 

“No, is there a problem?” asked Sakura.

 

“Kara and Jinyu are in that class,” Eron pointed out with a thin smile.  

 

“Oh!” Sakura’s shoulder slumped. She said in a small voice. “I just wanted one school play to go by smoothly.”

 

Tomoyo patted her friend’s back. “Don’t worry, it will.”

 

“Eriol, who do you have in mind for Cinderella and the Prince?” Miho asked.

 

With a smile, Eriol replied, “Someone unexpected. I like the element of surprise.”

 

“Of course you would,” groaned Eron.

 

Miho glared at Eron. “You’re one to speak. And don’t you dare pull anything funny because Eriol worked so hard on the script, and I would hate to see his good mood spoiled. None of that Insect business this time, all right?”

 

“Work hard my ass, I’m sure he just sat in class daydreaming and scribbled out the whole script on the back of his literature notebook,” grumbled Eron.

 

“Well yeah, it’s helpful to visualize when he has his minions sitting around him,” replied Miho. “Oops, I meant classmates.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Sitting cross-legged on their apartment living room floor later that evening, Meilin watched in amusement as Syaoran stared at the same math question for the past quarter hour. It was rare to find him so stumped by a simple derivative equation. She couldn’t resist leaning over her side of the coffee table and whispered loudly, “I think that should be a negative.”

 

He looked up at her with a start, dropping his pencil. “Huh?”

 

“That should be a negative 2, not positive,” said Meilin.

 

Syaoran stared down at the problem set and quickly spotted his obvious mistake.

 

“That’s rare for you to miss a question,” remarked Meilin. “Something on your mind?”

 

“No,” replied Syaoran, then heaved a sigh deep enough to flip the pages of his notebook.

 

Meilin remarked, “Do you have any updates about the hacking of the Li Group Japan computers. Was any important data taken?”

 

“We don’t know at this point,” said Syaoran. “And it’s not like we can really call in the police here for they’ll start asking uncomfortable questions.”  

 

“Do you think it’s related to the corporate spy that Wei told us about?” asked Meilin.

 

“Quite possible,” replied Syaoran grimly.

 

Meilin shut her notebook and said, “You know, you might want to get Kai to have a look at the network. He may look unreliable, but it’s his area of expertise, and he might be of some help. He helped install additional security firewalls for Daidouji Toy Company upon Tomoyo’s request.”

 

With a frown, Syaoran said, “I’m not sure what’s worse—being hacked by some corporate spy or actually trusting that thief with the security of the entire Li Group network. Besides, I’m sure Cousin Dairen will take care of it.”

 

“So, that issue’s not what has put you in such a tense mood then?” said Meilin. “I thought maybe you were stressed because of the upcoming board meeting.”

 

“As if a bunch of stuffy old men in suits sitting in a conference room will daunt me after dealing with the Elders all my life,” said Syaoran. “Nothing beats wearing a pink frilly dress and a yellow macaroni-hair wig, standing on stage in front of hundreds of people.”

 

Meilin asked, leaning her chin against a hand, “So, why did you make such a fuss earlier? About modeling. I haven’t seen Sakura-chan so angry since, well, since you stole the Sakura Cards from her.”

 

“Then do you think it’s a good idea for her to go ahead with the shoot?”

 

“I don’t really see what the deal is. It’s just a fashion shoot for a girls’ magazine,” replied Meilin. “I mean, it just boils down to you being jealous.”

 

Syaoran made a rude noise that sounded awfully like a snort. “Jealous of what?”

 

“I don’t know. Maybe you don’t want other guys to see Sakura-chan in swimwear. Or maybe you have problems with her modeling in front of the male photographer. Maybe you just don’t like sharing her with anyone.” Meilin folded her arms. “But whatever your problem is, don’t you think it’s none of your business? It’s not like you’re her family or even her boyfriend. Your input does not matter. Sakura’s super cute and popular—she always has been since she’s so frank and kind. If you let off your guard, someone’s going to snatch her away from right under your nose. Wait, Eron-kun already did that while you were gone last year.”

 

And Syaoran opened his mouth and shut it again. He bolted up from his seat. “I’m going for a jog.” He stuffed his feet into sneakers and swung the front door open.

 

“At this time?” asked Meilin. “Well, if you are going out, buy me some caramel pudding at the convenience store when you come back.”

 

“Chocolate pudding for me!” added Kai from the doorway. To Meilin, he said, “I’m putting my money on Sakura this time in the battle of the wills.”

 

With a shrug, Meilin replied, “Of course Sakura’s going to get her own way in the end. As if Syaoran could ever stand upsetting Sakura.”

 

“Then why does he ruffle her feathers so often when he does not have the heart to follow through?” asked Kai.

 

“I don’t think he can help himself,” concluded Meilin. “It almost makes me feel a bit jealous of Sakura.”

“Why?”

 

“When I chased around Syaoran as a kid, I did everything to attract his attention, hoping for him to notice me. But all he did was tolerate me. No matter how much I bugged him, he would just bear with me and let me do whatever I pleased.” Meilin paused with a wistful smile. “But with Sakura, it was always different. Every move she makes, he’s always watched over her.”

 

 

 

*******

 

 

 

To Kai’s amusement, Sakura and Syaoran did not speak to each other or even glance in the other’s direction throughout the day, a most difficult feat since they were desk mates. The former thief watched Sakura, her back deliberately turned from Syaoran, bent over Eron’s desk, and he laughed at something she said. It was as Meilin had said, though, even when Syaoran was pretending not to notice, he was watching her out of the corner of his eyes.

 

“Those two still didn’t make up?” Kai asked the other person who was always keeping an eye on the Card Mistress.

 

“Of course not,” replied Tomoyo, hiding a small smile. “You know how stubborn they can be.”

 

“Maybe I haven’t known them as long as you, but how ridiculous is it that they can forgive each other for everything ranging from Syaoran turning Sakura away from Hong Kong to stealing the Sakura Cards from her, and Sakura going ahead and losing her memory of him and even dating his mortal enemy. And they blow up over a magazine shoot that Sakura would probably have rejected in the first place?”

 

Tomoyo whispered, “You should have seen them when they were both infatuated with Yukito-san.”

 

Kai chuckled at this. “So, how is casting coming along, with Syaoran refusing to play the Prince and Sakura deciding she wants to do scenery painting?”

 

“I’m heartbroken, but we will have to make the best of the situation,” Tomoyo said with a sigh.

 

She cleared her throat as the students gathered in the seniors’ classroom for the cultural festival play casting announcement. “After close consultations between the class presidents of 2-2 and 3-2, we are revealing the casting sheet for this year’s production of Cinderella. Even if you are not on the list, we need volunteers for painting backdrops, making costume and props, backstage managers, lighting and the orchestra, so please sign up in the front which section you want to join, and we will do our best to accommodate your choice.”

 

The second and third years stared hard at the chart that Tomoyo pinned on the blackboard. “Since this is a collaboration project between our two classes, I hope this can be the grandest play that has been seen in the history of the Seijou High School Cultural Festival,” said Tomoyo. “We don’t have a whole lot of time to prepare, but I think it can be possible with everyone’s support here in this room. If you have any questions, please ask Class 2-2 President Hiiragizawa Eriol, Class 3-2 President Rido Kara or myself.”

 

“When did Kara Reed become class president?” exclaimed Meilin.

 

Erika snickered. “Leiyun forced her to run for class president because he said it will look good in her college applications—and I’m sure Jinyu intimidated students into voting for her. I bet she also pulled seniority, since she’s the oldest in the class.”

 

Sakura had already volunteered for scenery painting, but she was still interested to see the casting list, since Tomoyo and Eriol had kept so mum about it.

 

“Who’s playing Cinderella?” asked Naoko. She drew closer to the list and read out loud, “Cinderella: Chang Eron.”

 

“What?” demanded Eron, pushing through the crowds to check the list with his own eyes.

 

There was another shrill wail from the crowd. “I don’t want to be the ugly stepsister!” cried out Meilin. “I always get the worst parts. From the Evil Fairy in Sleeping Beauty and now the evil stepsister.”

 

Kai said soothingly, “Now, now, I’m sure you’ll make a magnificent evil stepsister, just like you played a convincing Maleficent.”

 

“How come you get to play the fairy godmother?” demanded Meilin. “I’d rather play the fairy godmother—at least you get to wear a pretty, sparkly dress and carry a wand.”

 

“I’m sure Tomoyo will make sure you get to wear a pretty, sparkly dress even if you are the stepsister,” said Kai. “And I will convince her to write in an epic love line with me.”

 

“No!” exclaimed Meilin. “I wanted to be the star of the show for a change. The one time I got cast as the heroine, I transferred back to Hong Kong. You don’t know how much I regret not being able to play out Juliet in Star-Crossed!”

 

“I’m sure you would have been a wonderful Juliet. But I mean, this time around, remember who the Prince is. It’s Jinyu. You don’t want to play a Cinderella opposite of him, right? I mean that’s sort of incestuous.” Then Kai paused. “Oh wait, you crushed on Syaoran all this time—never mind.”

 

“Jinyu’s an even more distant cousin then Syaoran,” snapped Meilin. Then she sighed. “I guess there’s no point in being Cinderella if Syaoran isn’t the prince.”

 

“What, not me?” asked Kai, hurt.

 

“Well, you’d make a good prince of thieves,” remarked Meilin.

 

“I loved Robin Hood as a kid,” replied Kai, somewhat cheered.

 

“What’s with this casting? I refused to be the evil stepmother!” exclaimed another female voice. It was high school senior Kara Reed, who finally caught a glimpse of the casting sheet.

 

Meilin snickered at this. “Evil stepmother? Aren’t you your class president? Weren’t you involved in the casting process?”

 

“I left things to Eriol and Tomoyo because I thought I knew what they were doing.” Kara swerved around and pointed two fingers at Eriol. “Hey, you four-eyed creep, you better recast me immediately or else I’ll put a hex on both of you.”

 

“Fits you perfectly, Mother,” said Erika suavely, examining her French-tipped nails. “I think Tomoyo-chan had the brilliant idea of casting all of us troublemakers into the play so we can stay out of mischief during the school festival.”

 

“Erika, you’re the other evil stepsister?” asked Meilin. “You’re okay with it?”

 

“Yeah, what’s wrong with the role?” asked Erika, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I get to bully Cinder-Eron around. With Tomoyo in charge of costumes, I will get to wear a pretty dress instead of rags. I’m in many of the scenes but don’t have a whole lot of lines to memorize. And it beats being stuck doing backdrop painting or prop making or slaving away behind the scenes.”

 

“Who would’ve thought you were the optimistic sort?” muttered Meilin.

 

“More importantly, how is Eron-kun taking it?” asked Naoko in a whisper to her friends.

 

“I told you I refuse!” roared Eron, slamming his hands on Eriol’s desk. “There’s no way I’m playing Cinderella!”

 

“But you will be perfect!” coaxed Sakura.

 

“It’s a girl’s role!” Eron said.

 

“I know, but gender reverse roles are tradition,” Sakura replied. “You know Syaoran played Princess Aurora in our Sleeping Beauty play in fifth grade. I played the Prince then. And my brother also played the role of Cinderella when he was a junior in high school. And he’s nowhere near as beautiful as you are.”

 

Eron raised an eyebrow. “How on earth did they get your brother to agree?”

 

“He knew it was important for his class—I mean, him playing Cinderella was the biggest attraction ever. And you too will be the absolute star of the Seijou High Cultural Festival,” said Sakura.

 

“Wow, Sakura’s quite persuasive,” remarked Chiharu.

 

“Well, she can melt anyone if she looks at you with those big green eyes of hers,” remarked Aki.

 

“Oh, did we mention who the Prince was?” said Syaoran, keeping a straight face. “It’s Jinyu.”

 

Eron blanched. “Okay, I’m so not doing it! Whose horrible idea was it to cast Jinyu as prince? What kind of prince is he, Prince of the Underworld?”

 

Syaoran remarked, “Tomoyo-chan was determined to cast all the troublemakers as main characters in the play and keep them from ruining her production.”

 

Eron with a frown turned to Tomoyo. “Is that supposed to reassure me? Remember, I’m on your side? In fact, I’ve been in the alliance for much longer than Li Syaoran. What made you think I should be cast in the play? As Cinderella, of all characters.”

 

“Well, we figured if you are on stage, Erika won’t play any weird sort of pranks,” said Tomoyo with a shrug. “You’ll be able to keep an eye on Kara and Jinyu since you will literally be in every single scene. And you’re pretty and good at acting.”

 

And Eron actually found himself nodding to Tomoyo halfway before he said, “Why not get Syaoran to do it?”

 

Tomoyo smiled tightly. “I tried. He threatened to transfer back to Hong Kong.”

 

Jinyu wandered into the classroom at the moment, eyes flitting back and forth between the boisterous students, wondering why there was twice the number of people as usual.

 

“Congratulations, Prince Jinjin!” called out Kara. “You’re the hero of the school play.”

 

Erika whispered to Jinyu, “You did hear we have a cultural festival coming up and your class and my class are putting on a joint production of Cinderella, right?”

 

He frowned and walked up to the blackboard. “What is the meaning of this?” Slowly, he turned around with narrowed eyes at the rest of the class, who froze as the Black Dragon emanated an aura of dark gloom.

 

“We’re doomed,” groaned Meilin.

 

“It won’t be that bad,” said Sakura, beaming as she signed up for scenery painting much to Tomoyo’s disappointment.

 

“It’ll be a beautiful disaster,” remarked Naoko, signing up as the backstage crew for she knew she wanted to avoid being on stage with the dangerous folks.

 

“Great, with that evil mafia-looking senior as the Prince, the punk rock class president chick as step-mother, punk rock Mizuki Kai as the fairy godmother, and Chang Eron as the heroine, is it some sort of Goth Cinderella?” asked Aki, the astute journalist.

 

And somehow, the name stuck.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Tomoyo heard an intricate piano tune from the music room—she recognized it as Paganini’s Liszt La Campanella. At first, she thought it was Eriol, since he was likely the only pianist in the school who could play such a difficult and elaborate piece with complete ease. But whereas Eriol’s performance style was one of restraint and minimalism, this pianist played with great flourish and all the bells and whistles—it was someone who performed for an audience in a large concert hall rather than in the parlor of his home for his close friends and family. She walked into the room and saw the silver-haired man in a loose white button-down linen shirt and pale beige chino slacks behind the ivory and ebony keys.  

 

Her classmates surrounded the pianist, clapping their hands wildly as his fingers flew over the keys in a grandiose manner. Each note was crisp and on the spot, a highly technical performance style admired in piano competitions, for it was as precise as it was flashy.

 

“Li-sensei is so amazing!” squealed Naoko. “Tomoyo-chan, won’t you say Li-sensei is amazing at the piano—I think he’s even better that Eriol-kun. He didn’t even need the music score.”

 

Tomoyo stared at the grand piano, the one Leiyun had tuned last time. “It’s not an easy piece to pull off,” she remarked, as the performance came to an abrupt halt.

 

“Oh, please continue,” said Naoko. “I didn’t know you played piano so well, Li-sensei.”

 

“You flatter me. I’m a little bit rusty,” said Leiyun with a smile. “I don’t remember the rest of the piece.”

 

“That can’t be called rusty. I’ve learned piano since first grade, and I don’t think I can ever dream of reaching that caliber,” said Rika woefully.

 

“Play us a little more on the piano,” pleaded Chiharu, clasping her hands together.

 

But Leiyun laughed. “That’s the only tune I remember. I haven’t played in over a decade.”

 

Sakura crossed her arms, eyes narrowed, trying to remain unimpressed.

 

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard Leiyun play the piano,” Syaoran remarked quietly from her side. “I thought he gave up on music completely.”

 

“Why did he give up on music?” asked Sakura, before remembering she was not speaking to him.

 

Leiyun called out, “Well, enough fooling around. Let’s get started with class.”

 

He continued, “Now take it from the top—let’s continue where we let off last time with thing song. Girls, come in softly, guys, don’t miss your cue. Rika-chan, I’ll accompany on the piano today—you can sing with your classmates.”

 

While music had always been one of Sakura’s favorite classes, it stopped being so ever since Leiyun became their substitute teacher. Leiyun apparently had come up with his own arrangement for the classic song, and began playing his rendition, while cuing in the girls to sing the part. Nobody missed the timing, nobody messed up the lyrics. Class time whizzed by, and Sakura grudgingly admitted they sounded more in harmony than they had ever before. After all, the students realized that Leiyun was not completely clueless about music—in fact he might be more competent than their actual music teacher.

 

As the students filed out for next period, Sakura watched out of the corner of her eyes Leiyun single out Tomoyo and walk up to her.

 

“I heard you pulled out of the concert section of the cultural festival,” remarked Leiyun.

 

Tomoyo gathered up her choral sheet music. “Where did you hear that?”

 

“I’m the substitute music teacher, so I’m supervising the concert programming,” said Leiyun. “It’s a pity. I was looking forward to your performance. Why did you drop out?”

 

“I already have my hands full with producing the Cinderella play and making the costumes,” replied Tomoyo. “Besides, I sing every year. I’m sure my spot can be used by a freshman who wants a chance to shine.”

 

“Too bad,” said Leiyun. “If I were a sea witch, I would covet your voice and want to seal it away for my ears only. But the next best thing is hear it on stage.”

 

“You flatter me,” said Tomoyo. “But don’t tease—I’ve had my voice taken away by a Clow Card once, and it was not a pleasant feeling.”

 

“I can imagine so, for a mermaid princess without her voice cannot be found by her prince,” said Leiyun with a thin smile. “And I do not tease, Tomoyo. Your voice makes me want to play music again. I haven’t gotten that feeling in a long time.”

 

Tomoyo laughed. “I just heard you play the piano.”

 

“That’s not really playing,” said Leiyun. “It was merely warming up of the fingers.”  

 

She found herself asking, “Why did you give up on music in the first place?”

 

“Why do you sing, Tomoyo?”

 

“Because I enjoy it,” she replied. “And I hope it brings a little happiness to those who listen.”

 

“And I gave up on music because it brought nobody joy, including myself.” Leiyun stared down at her. “But you have a gift. And it makes me wonder if you would sing to my melody.”

 

And all laughter left Tomoyo as she stared into Leiyun’s strange marble-like eyes that always remained emotionless despite his jovial tone. “I guess it depends. Show me what it sounds like.”

 

For a moment, Leiyun’s eyes flashed a deep turquoise, and she thought his smile was genuine when he said, “That sounds like a direct challenge to me, Tomoyo.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

The first joint rehearsal between Classes 2-2 and 3-2 of what the students dubbed “Goth Cinderella” had to be called a catastrophe at best. Even Tomoyo’s impeccable directing and Eriol’s superb script could not change the players. The cast gathered in the senior classroom, which was larger than the juniors’ classroom. They had pushed all the desks and chairs to the back of the room, and Cinderella and the Prince stood in front of the classroom while the others watched on.

 

Sakura had not seen anyone so unhappy to be on stage since Syaoran in fifth grade as Princess Aurora, as the Black Dragon stared down at the script as if it was an execution notice. Li Jinyu, who had always skulked in the shadows of the hallway at school, was put under the spotlight. Many of his classmates learned for the first time there was a student like him in the school.

 

Tachibana Rei, a senior, whispered to her friend, “Did we have a classmate like that? He’s so intimidating. Is he even our age—I thought he was a teacher.”

 

“He’s scary,” murmured her friend. “Why couldn’t we have cast someone else as the Prince? Like that handsome transfer student who played Romeo in junior high.”

 

“Didn’t you hear? Tomoyo-chan is going with the dark, Goth theme for this production of Cinderella,” interjected Naoko. “There’s no one darker or more ominous than Li Jinyu.”

 

“Well, I guess that theme hasn’t been done before,” said Rei. “That explains the depressed-looking cast.”

 

Jinyu was positively glowering as the buzz around the classroom grew louder as nobody paid any attention to what was happening in the initial read-through. Not that Eron looked much happier to be paired with the expressionless and gloomy Jinyu. It may even have been tougher for Eron. Unlike Jinyu who did not care about what others thought about him, Eron cared, a lot.

 

“Would. You. Like. To. Dance. With. Me,” said Jinyu stiltedly, staring down at the script as if it was written in hieroglyphics. 

 

And Eron stared at Jinyu, jaw dropping. He turned around and grabbed Tomoyo’s arm desperately. “I can’t do this with him, Tomoyo. I just can’t.”

 

“I’m sure you can. I wouldn’t have cast you if I didn’t believe you didn’t you had it in you, Eron-kun,” replied Tomoyo merrily.

 

“Sadist,” muttered Eron. “You’re getting back at me for daring to date Sakura, aren’t you?”

 

Tomoyo laughed. “It was Eriol who casted you, not me. You were not my first choice.”

 

“Li Jinyu-senpai going to ruin the play!” whispered Rika.

 

“Maybe he’s not fluent in Japanese,” said Naoko.

 

“He’s worse than his cousin Li Syaoran!” groaned Chiharu.

 

“Oh, but Li-kun did a fantastic job as Romeo in Star-Crossed two years ago,” said another female classmate.

 

Shaking her head, Naoko said, “You were not in our junior high, so you apparently didn’t see the rehearsals—he was stiff the whole time and only pulled through the final night. Oh, and don’t even mention Sleeping Beauty in elementary school. Now that was pretty awful, though Sakura-chan managed to pull the play through as the Prince.”

 

“I’m sure Jinyu-senpai will pull through as well. He must,” said Tomoyo resolutely. “This is just the first rehearsal.

 

“I don’t know, this is a whole new level of bad acting,” remarked Eron. “You might do best to recast the Prince.”

 

Tomoyo smiled sweetly. “You know I would cast Syaoran as Prince then. Which Li would you prefer?”

 

Paling, Eron sighed. “I’ll make it work.”

 

Resuming the Third Act, Eron sized up Li Jinyu. The Black Dragon was taller, built like a seasoned martial artist. To his knowledge, Syaoran might be considered the top swordsman of his generation, but there was allegedly nobody who could beat Jinyu in hand-to-hand combat. Erika seemed to think Jinyu to be harmless, and disturbingly enough was rather fond of the mafia boss. She always had been attracted to the lone-dog types. Eron too had no hard feelings against Jinyu, yet.

 

Up close, Eron realized for the first time Jinyu’s slanted eyes, usually covered by ink black bangs, were vivid amber—almost garnet. His brows were black and furrowed down, serious and tense. He asked the Black Dragon dryly, “So, how did they blackmail you into showing up for rehearsal?”

 

Jinyu stared back, as if he didn’t understand his question.

 

“Look, I’m not any more thrilled to be in this play as the titular character than you are. But at least you won’t be the one in a frilly dress,” hissed Eron.

 

And Jinyu continued to stare down at him with those glassy ruby eyes.

 

Eron continued, “I’m not expecting you to act well—heck, all I want to do is get through this cultural festival without becoming the laughingstock of the school. All I ask you to do is to say your lines. I don’t expect anything more.”

 

“Okay.”

 

And Eron gawked. Okay? Just okay? Nothing seemed okay. He was not only cast as Cinderella, but his partner had to be the very last person in this school he wanted to be left in a room with. Well, he would prefer Jinyu to Syaoran, but just barely. He sighed. “I should have signed up for the orchestra.” Then, he could be practicing with Sakura instead of worrying for his own life while partnered up with the mafia king. For he had to admit, Jinyu, even in a school setting, was quite intimidating.

 

Aki, vice president of the Seijou High School student council, glanced at Tomoyo, who actually beginning to look a bit worried. “I got the auditorium time schedule as you requested,” he told her. “We still have a lot of time ahead of the cultural festival, so don’t stress too much.”

 

“Thanks,” Tomoyo said with a small smile. “I’m going to the storage room to check out what supplies there are, and what we can reuse from previous productions.”

 

“I’ll come with you,” said Aki.

 

“It’s all right, you’d be busy with supervising the cultural festival preparation, and also memorizing your lines for the play,” Tomoyo said. “I can go by myself.”

 

Aki said, “What if there’s something heavy to lift? Besides, I have like three lines in the play.”

 

“Should I get Eriol-kun write you more lines?” asked Tomoyo.

 

“No thanks, I’m occupied as is with this student council activities and this stupid university survey—my father thinks I can get into Tokyo University with my grades,” said Aki, as they headed towards the storage room.

 

“You probably can,” said Tomoyo. “You always score in the top ten percentile.”

 

“If I’m not first, that’s not good enough,” muttered Aki. “I’ll never be as smart as my eldest brother, no matter how much I study, nor as talented and popular as my sister.”

 

Tomoyo turned to him. “Aki-kun, I think it’s a good thing to push yourself to be the best version of yourself. But I think the Aki-kun now is great just as is.”

 

And Aki suddenly blushed crimson. “You think I’m great, Tomoyo-chan?”

 

But Tomoyo was unlocking the storage room and completely distracted. She clasped her hands in delight. “Oh look at the props galore. We can definitely refuse that Styrofoam pumpkin carriage if we paint it over in orange and sprinkle some glitter on it. And look at these dresses—we can add some more trimmings and ribbons, and they can be used for the extras for the ballroom scene.”

 

“Ugh, it’s so dusty in here,” said Aki, covering his nose with his mouth. “Looks like it hasn’t been touched in years.”

 

“Of course—I’m raiding the storage room before the other classes remember about it,” said Tomoyo. “So we can get first picks.” She suddenly halted.

 

Aki followed Tomoyo’s gaze. “What is it?”

 

“I thought I saw something whitish move up there,” replied Tomoyo, resuming sorting through the box of swords and plastic weaponry.

 

“A mouse?” asked Aki. “Or a g-ghost?”

 

“I think it’s neither,” said Tomoyo. “Oh, it reminds me of the seven mysteries of our school. Of the boy who killed his cheating girlfriend. The storage room is supposed to be where her hand was hidden.” Tomoyo reached into the box then suddenly went still.

 

“W-what is it?” stammered Aki.

 

“Look!” said Tomoyo drawing out something shaped like an arm and throwing it at Aki.

 

Aki shrieked, holding it at a distance, before realizing it was simply a mannequin arm.

 

Tomoyo giggled. “You’re almost as bad as Sakura-chan. Oh, I should lock her in here with Syaoran-kun, sometime.”

 

“That’s evil,” muttered Aki.

 

“That’s not evil,” said Tomoyo. “What’s evil is I’d want to install hidden cameras and record it.” This time, Tomoyo was sure she saw it again. She craned her neck to see what was on the top storage shelf. “I heard from Yukito-san that there should be a pair of glass slippers from their production. It must be further back there, since it was seven years ago. I’m climbing up there.” She took grip of the ladder.

 

“Y-you can’t go up there!” exclaimed Aki. “I-I’ll go up!”

 

“It’s all right, I got it,” said Tomoyo, as she pawed through different boxes that took her back to cultural festivals of past years. “I like looking through stuff like this.” She had gotten nearly to the top of the ladder, when she spotted a box labeled Class 2-2—Yukito and Touya’s old class. She reached a little bit further to get a hold of the box. And then, she saw a pair of eye blink at her. Before she realized it, the ladder was slipping over, and she was falling backward, box in arm. She thought she heard Aki call her name.

 

And then, she felt a throbbing ache in her right leg, as if something had snapped.

 

Aki ran up to her. “Tomoyo-chan! Tomoyo-chan, are you all right? Can you hold on to me? I’ll take you straight to the infirmary! Hang in there!” 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Leiyun let out a yawn as he flipped a page of a new Shounen Jump issue. “How come this darned manga series still hasn’t finished even after eight years?” he grumbled. “You’d think since I came back from the dead, I’d at least deserve some ending to this dratted, never-ending story.”  

 

And the infirmary door crashed open. Akagi Aki, carrying Tomoyo in his arms, cried out, “Li-sensei! Li-sensei! Tomoyo-chan is hurt! You’ve got to save her!”

 

Slowly, Leiyun shut his comic book and stared up at Aki with half-shut eyes. “You do realize if the patient is really injured, you should not have moved her?”

 

“Hurry up, take a look at her!” shouted Aki.

 

“Well, set her over there on the bed,” said Leiyun.

 

Tomoyo said weakly, “Aki-kun, I can walk by myself. I just tumbled a little, that’s all.”

 

“You’re bleeding!” exclaimed Aki. “And falling off the ladder is not just tumbling a little!”

 

Leiyun walked over toward the infirmary bed. “Calm down, boy. Tell me what happened.”

 

“We were in the storage room, and one second, Tomoyo was on the ladder getting a box, and the next second, she was falling,” said Aki.

 

“Well, aren’t you a clumsy one?” said Leiyun, glancing down at to a pale Tomoyo, who despite being in visible pain was trying to smile in order not to worry Aki. He prodded her knee gently. “Does that hurt?”

 

Tomoyo shook her head. He then he pressed her ankle. She winced. He gently took her foot, tossed off her shoe, and tried to move it in a circular motion. She gasped out loud.

 

“Looks like a stretched ligament,” Leiyun remarked.

 

“Are you sure?” demanded Aki. “I think we need to take an X-ray. She fell several feet off the ladder. What if she has a concussion?”

 

“Did you hit your head?” asked Leiyun.

 

Tomoyo shook her head. “No, I tripped over the rung. I wasn’t paying attention because I thought I saw something moving behind the shelves. It felt like the ladder shifted beneath me, and I fell on my side.”

 

“It’s the g-ghost!” exclaimed Aki. “Li-sensei, I saw the ladder move too! It must have been a ghost!”

 

“Aki, you are being more of a nuisance than any help. If you were a man, you would have been the one on the ladder. Thank you for bringing Tomoyo to the infirmary. Now, get out,” commanded Leiyun.

 

“But—” Aki stared at Tomoyo helplessly.

 

“I’m fine, Aki-kun, I’m really fine. Sorry for making you worry,” said Tomoyo. “Li-sensei said it’s a strained ligament, so no need for you to stick around.”

 

And Leiyun ushered Aki out of the room. “Good riddance,” he said, shutting the infirmary door. “Next time you fall off a ladder, don’t let that blithering idiot carry you around and jolt you around like that. What if you did have a concoction, or worse?”

 

“But I don’t,” said Tomoyo.

 

“Luckily, you don’t,” Leiyun said with a frown, examining her right ankle again. “It’ll heal just fine in a week or so. We’ll just bandage it up and put some ice on it.”

 

She stared up at Leiyun, wondering if he meant he was actually going to treat her. To her unease, his pale, glass-like eyes were fixed upon her.  

 

“Your stockings.”

 

“What?”

 

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to have to tear them off,” Leiyun informed her.

 

Tomoyo stared down at the large gashes on both knees and the run on one side of her black stockings. Without awaiting her consent, Leiyun took out a pocketknife and slit away what remained of the shredded stockings. “I’m going to disinfect your banged up knees first, and then we’ll bandage this foot up.”

 

He soaked gauze held with a metal tong with antiseptic at the counter then walked back towards Tomoyo. Finding her staring up at him with rounded amethyst eyes, he suddenly laughed. “What, are you scared because you know I don’t actually have a medical degree? He sat down on the stool next to the bed, and proceeded to dab the scrape on her scraped right knee first with the cotton swab. “It’s going to sting a bit—hang on.”

 

Tomoyo bit her lip, for it did sting. He rubbed some ointment on the scrapes and slapped Band-Aids over them. And he took her bare foot and gave her right ankle a squeeze. She stifled a yelp.

 

“Try wriggling your toes.” She did, despite herself. “It’s already swelling—nasty sprain but you’ll survive,” he told her. “You’re lucky you suffered no broken bones.”

 

“I’m going to call my bodyguards—they’ll take me to the hospital where I can get an X-ray,” Tomoyo said.

 

“Pshaw, who goes to the hospital over a little sprained ankle?” said Leiyun. Then he glanced down at her and told her, not unkindly, “Don’t worry, Lis are trained basic first aid from an early age. It’s necessary for self-survival. But really, this is something any athlete on a school sports team should be able to handle.”

 

He proceeded to deftly bandage up her ankle with the gauze and secured the end. Then he took several ice packages out of the freezer, wrapped it in a towel, and placed it on her throbbing ankle. He helped her prop that leg atop a pillow, and Tomoyo finally relaxed.

 

“See, that wasn’t too bad, was it? No amputated leg. No blood and gore. Yet.” When he saw her somewhat befuddled expression, he chuckled. “I’m kidding. You Star Alliance kids have no sense of humor.”

 

Tomoyo remarked, “You are good at this.”

 

He smiled thinly. “I think you meant to say, you are surprised I am actually not a quack. Well, there was a time when I was in elementary school, I thought I wanted to become a doctor.”

 

It did not fit her image of him. “Why a doctor?”

 

“I probably wanted to heal people,” said Leiyun. “Of course, my father wasn’t keen on the idea. He wanted me to become the Chosen One. My cousin Jingmei on the other hand swore she would never become a doctor because she grew up in a household of doctors and healers.”

 

“And do you still want to be a doctor?” asked Tomoyo.

 

The corner of his eyes crinkled. “You mean, am I role-playing as a doctor now as some sort of perverse wish-fulfillment? Tomoyo, I am not so asinine.”

 

“Then, what do you want?”

 

“At this moment,” he said, his long, pale lashes flickering, “I want to get inside that pretty head of yours.” His fingers brushed her bare calf. “It’s going to continue to swell for a few hours. Take it easy, and do not put pressure on your right foot. I’ll find you a pair of crutches. I think your friends are here to check if you are in one piece after going through me.”

 

What did that mean, she wanted to ask, but Tomoyo heard a pitter-pat of footsteps, and a girl with widened emerald eyes and flushed cheeks came bursting into the infirmary.

 

“Tomoyo-chan, are you okay?” exclaimed Sakura, hands clenched into small fists, light brown hair in a messy cloud around her face. She was in her sky-blue and white cheerleading uniform—she must have come straight from practice. “I just heard from Aki-kun. What happened?” She glared up at Leiyun accusingly. “Did he—”

 

“I’m fine,” said Tomoyo with a small smile. “Just fell over my own feet in the storage room.”

 

“Akagi-kun didn’t make it sound that way—he said you had a nasty tumble off the ladder,” said a male voice behind Sakura.

 

Eriol stepped forward, and took a glance down at Tomoyo, at the shredded remains of her discarded black stockings, her scraped up knees and the foot propped up on the pillow. “What did you do to yourself?” he asked her, but his gaze was upon Leiyun.

 

“Li-sensei helped treat it—it’s no big deal. My bodyguards are going to come pick me up soon. I’m fine,” said Tomoyo.

 

“It doesn’t look fine,” said Sakura, peering over at the Tomoyo’s elevated foot. “It’s not broken?”

 

“I don’t think so. Li-sensei said it isn’t,” replied Tomoyo.

 

“You trust him?” asked Sakura not too quietly. 

 

“Yeah—he did a good job examining it,” said Tomoyo.

 

Leiyun came back with a pair of wooden crutches. “What a dismal supply closet. It seems like these are the only ones available at the moment—you can always order ones that are height adjustable later when you get a chance. But you will have to make do with this for now. Let me check if this will work. Can you get up?” Tomoyo hobbled up, with the help of Sakura, and tried the crutches. They were too tall for her.

 

“Hmm… that won’t do.” Leiyun with a little frown, sized up the crutches, and then took them. Tomoyo took a seat again, and watched Leiyun pull out a pocket knife.

 

Instinctively, Sakura tensed. But then, to her surprise, she watched Leiyun pop off the rubber bottom of one crutch and hack away at the end of the wood, then carefully whittle it into a rounded shape. He repeated the process with the other crutch. Then, he plugged the rubber tips back on each end.

 

How strange, Sakura thought. At moments like this, there was a side of Leiyun that reminded her of Syaoran, Syaoran who was nifty with his fingers, Syaoran who had a serious look on his face, brows furrowed down, when engaged in a project, Syaoran who had once whittled a wooden wolf for her.

 

“Here, try it,” said Leiyun, handing back the crutches to Tomoyo. They fit her perfectly, though it seemed like Leiyun had only eyeballed her height. “Now, I’m sure our Card Mistress or Former Strongest Sorcerer of the East and West could produce something much higher quality with a snap of their fingers. But, sometimes, the good old touch of the hand can equally suffice. And I don’t believe much in wasteful magic. ”

 

“Thank you. It works well,” said Tomoyo almost shyly, as she tried out the crutches. She found she could hop around well enough with them.

 

“Your car arrived, come let’s go,” said Sakura, protectively ushering Tomoyo out of the infirmary, and Eriol slid shut the infirmary door behind them.

 

 

 

Sakura frowned as she watched the black van drive away from the school, Tomoyo waving to her with a brave smile despite being in visible pain. 

 

From the soccer field, Syaoran in his soccer uniform walked up to her, water bottle in hand. “I heard about Tomoyo’s accident from Akagi-kun. Is she okay?”

 

She nodded. “I think so. I wanted to take her home, but her mother came and picked her up.”

 

“Do you think it was a dark force?” he asked.

 

“I don’t think so. I feel like Eriol-kun was angry, the whole time, but I couldn’t figure out about what.” Sakura thought it was because he was worried about Tomoyo, at first, but it seemed more than that. “And your cousin Leiyun. He’s odd.”

 

“How so?”

 

Sakura related what she had witnessed in the infirmary, to which Syaoran shrugged. “That’s just Leiyun being Leiyun. He would do something like that. And he is the school doctor. It’s his job.”

 

“The Leiyun that you described to me from your childhood is very different from the person that I see in front of me,” said Sakura.

 

“But even being trapped in the Cavern of Reservoirs from so long—that doesn’t completely change the essence of who you are,” replied Syaoran. “Leiyun has always been good at taking care of people.”

 

And despite all that Leiyun had put him through, Sakura realized to her annoyance that Syaoran was quick to defend his older cousin, almost protective. Why? She had been so concerned about Tomoyo, that she realized they were naturally talking to each other again, and she was grateful for that.

 

“Sakura, I signed up for the orchestra,” said Syaoran. “For the play. What did you sign up for?”

 

Sakura, who had signed up for scenery painting, lied, “I signed up for orchestra too.” She hadn’t picked up the violin in months. She had a lot of practicing to do. And she had to convince Tomoyo to let her sign up for orchestra.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Tomoyo-chan, should you even be at school?” Aki asked when he found the lovely Tomoyo, hair pulled back into a high ponytail tied with a red ribbon, at school the next morning as if she had never been in a nasty accident. But her crutches were propped next to her desk.

 

“Yes, it’s just a little sprain,” replied Tomoyo. “Our family doctor said I should be able to walk on it in a week or two. Besides, we have so much to do at school with cultural festival coming up, and the Cinderella rehearsal today.” 

 

Aki bowing his head, burst out, “I’m sorry Tomoyo-chan! Li-sensei was right. It should have been me up on the ladder.”

 

“Don’t be silly,” said Tomoyo. “I was the one who insisted on going up it in the first place.”

 

“I moved all the props you picked out to the classroom,” said Aki. “Oh and this.” He took out a pair of glass slippers. “This was in the last box. It was wrapped well in bubble wrap, so it didn’t break, luckily.”

 

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Tomoyo with a smile, marveling at the unexpected craftsmanship of the glass slippers.

 

Despite her cheery words, Tomoyo found it was harder to navigate around in crutches than she had expected. Luckily, Eriol, her desk mate, quietly carried her books and book bag without her even asking. And their schedules overlapped quite a bit because of cultural festival preparations, so she didn’t have to feel too bad about him going too out of his way for her. So, she felt his absence more acutely when he wasn’t there because of class president duties.

 

It was on the third day, before rehearsal for the cultural festival play, that she remembered she had left her annotated Cinderella script in the classroom. She hadn’t realized how hard it was to go up stairs on crutches and found herself catching her breath in the middle of the stairwell, leaning on the railing. Trying to balance her book bag on her other arm, she picked up her crutches again. In the process, she upset her bag, and it tumbled down the stairs, scattering sheets of paper with costume designs, her notebooks and her favorite color pencil set. She stared up at the rows of stair ahead of her then back at the expanse of steps behind her, tempted to just collapse down on the steps.

 

And she heard hollow footstep at the top of the stairs. Perhaps she could ask for a hand. She opened her mouth to call out. A pair of cool aqua eyes stared down at her, and she looked down again, turning around. She’d forgotten the infirmary was near by. She had to go pick up her bag. Except, swerving around on the step with crutches was not quite an easy feat, and she stepped on her injured foot, sending a sharp pain up her leg. As she wobbled to keep her balance, she felt a strong pair of hands encircle her waist and steady her.

 

“Wait there,” he told her, leaning her against the railing. He went down the steps and retrieved her notebooks and bags. And he even recovered the very last of her color pencils, before depositing them in their metal case.

 

“Come with me to the infirmary,” Leiyun ordered.

 

Tomoyo wanted to protest, but he was still holding her book bag, so she had not choice to comply. It was unnerving to try to climb up the rest of the stairs with him watching from behind.

 

Inside the infirmary he had her sit on the bed, taking off her shoe without her permission to examine her right ankle.

 

“It’s fine now,” she said. It was in fact throbbing from stepping down on it earlier.

 

“It would be, if you kept off that foot altogether,” he replied. “I thought Sakura was the clumsy one of the family. Stay home if you can’t manage going about on your own at school.”

 

“There’s so much to do though,” said Tomoyo.

 

“You’re busy enough with your class play, I don’t know why you’re running around designing maid uniforms and haunted house costumes for other classes and mentoring soloists for choir, when that’s not your job,” said Leiyun. “Actually, I guess that would be my job as the substitute music teacher. Anyway, you shouldn’t take on everyone’s favors just because they ask you. People are taking advantage of you, and will just end up taking you for granted.”

 

“It’s okay,” said Tomoyo. “I enjoy designing costumes.”

 

Leiyun sighed. “Why didn’t you get Sakura to use the Heal on you?”

 

Tomoyo shook her head. “I would never ask Sakura-chan to use the Heal Card on me for such a trifle injury. She almost died using the Heal once.”

 

“That’s because she was trying to seal the Plague—something like this would take a sliver of her power, and would save Eriol the hassle of being your lackey,” said Leiyun.

 

“I’m not sure if Eriol-kun would like being referred to with that term,” remarked Tomoyo, straight-faced. “Though I admit I’ve been a bother to him these couple days. I think I can manage if I switch to a bigger backpack, though it would be ugly.”

 

“You should just have one of your many bodyguards escort you around then,” said Leiyun.

 

Tomoyo stared up at him with a look of defiance in her violet eyes he hadn’t glimpsed in her before. “I made my mother promise they won’t ever enter the school premises.”

 

“Why do you have so many bodyguards with you?” asked Leiyun. “Who are they protecting you from? Or from what?”

 

And Tomoyo glanced down at her lap. Her knees had scabbed nicely and no longer stung.

 

“You don’t have answer it if it makes you feel uncomfortable,” said Leiyun.

 

“I was kidnapped when I was a child,” said Tomoyo. “Around when I was six. At first, the detectives thought it was someone after ransom money from the Daidouji Toy Company. But it turned out, my kidnapper was a recently release convict. My father—he’s with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department—had sent the man to prison years ago, and he wanted revenge. Luckily, my father found his trail, and I was rescued. But consequently, my father left home soon after. I learned many years later that my mother had made him choose between his police job and his family. And he chose his job.”

 

“It must have been scary,” said Leiyun. “Being kidnapped at that age.”

 

“I don’t remember too much of it, since I was so young,” Tomoyo replied, surprised at herself for admitting something she had never spoken about to anyone, not even Sakura. “I was alone most of the time, back then because both my parents were busy with work. They didn’t realize I was missing for 24 hours.”

 

Leiyun frowned. “Exactly how long were you kidnapped?”

 

“I don’t know. I was told it was around a week. I slept a lot—I was blindfolded, and I think I was drugged, so I don’t remember much of what happened. I remember singing, when I was conscious, hoping someone would hear me. And my father eventually did.”

 

“A week?” murmured Leiyun with a deep frown. “I would have ended that miserable criminal’s life—how could he do that to an innocent child? It must have been a traumatic experience.”

 

“I didn’t mind so much though. After that, my mother tried to spend more time with me, especially after my father left. And I gained four bodyguards who became like my sisters.”

 

“Did you ever resent your father for abandoning your family?” asked Leiyun.

 

“Not anymore. Because I believe he thought he was doing his best to protect me and my mother in his own way,” replied Tomoyo. “And after meeting him again because of the Kaitou Magician investigation, two summers ago, I felt like I could connect to him, a little bit. But I also felt robbed of not having had a chance to know my father. Which was why I guess I let the Phantom get to me that time.” She trailed off, recalling that incident in her third year of junior high, when Eriol had been by her side.

 

“I know of your father—he was famous as the main inspector behind capturing Kaitou Magician,” said Leiyun. “It must be a good 10 years ago, or so. He came to Hong Kong before, for a Kaitou Magician case. The first Kaitou Magician. I was able to sit in because one of my uncles was commissioner of the Hong Kong Police Force then. Your father, though of course I didn’t know he was your father at that time, was a noble man. That’s the sense I got, from watching, that he’s the kind of person who would put his life on the line for his duty, or for what he would protect.”

 

“Yes, he’s that kind of person,” said Tomoyo. “Wait, the first Kaitou Magician?”

 

“Yes, Leon Reed,” replied Leiyun. “Kara’s father. Well, at that time, I had not yet met Kara.”

 

“You’ve met Leon Reed before?” asked Tomoyo, who had heard vaguely about the initial Kaitou Magician in passing from Kai.

 

“You can say we’ve crossed paths before,” said Leiyun. “Tomoyo, if you don’t sleep properly, your ankle won’t heal. Jinyu’s prince costume design is fabulous, and he definitely won’t wear it, but get your maids to sew it instead of staying up all night to finish it.”

 

“It won’t turn out the way I want it to then,” said Tomoyo, noticing the abrupt change in conversation. So, Leiyun didn’t want to talk about himself. “If I remove the extra frills and bows, and make it in indigo, not royal purple, will Jinyu-senpai be more likely to wear it?”

 

“Yes, I’ll coax him.” He was prodding her ankle again. She felt a tingling sensation from the tip of her toes that traveled up to her calves. “Well, you won’t listen to anything your doctor tells you to do, will you? And you look so much like the obedient type at school.” He then slipped her shoe back on her right foot.

 

“Well, you know best, Li-sensei. If you have a reputation of being rule-abiding, you can get away with so much more,” replied Tomoyo, straight-faced. Her ankle was feeling remarkably better than it had all day. In fact, it didn’t throb anymore. She propped herself up on the crutches again.

 

“Now, Tomoyo-chan, why are still you using that battered pair of crutches, when I told you to get a new pair?” he asked with a lazy drawl.

 

She looked over her shoulder coyly. “They fit my height perfectly.”

 

Leiyun smiled lopsidedly, watching Tomoyo hobble away to her classroom. He was going to have to bring her book bag to her later, but not before pawing through the rest of her remarkable sketchbook.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“I wonder where Mei-chan is,” remarked Kai, looking around the classroom.

 

Tomoyo, leaned against one crutch, replied, “I don’t know, I haven’t seen her all morning.”

 

“Should you be walking on that ankle, Tomoyo-chan?” asked Sakura, rushing over to her friend.

 

“It doesn’t hurt at all, anymore,” replied Tomoyo, showing her foot to her friend as proof. “And the swelling’s completely gone down—it’s not even purple anymore. Which is odd, actually. My doctor said it would take two weeks for the swelling to go down completely.”

 

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Aki. “I guess Li-sensei’s a decent doctor after all. He seems to be really good at emergency response.”

 

“Yes, Li-sensei helped me greatly,” said Tomoyo.

 

Kai remarked in a low voice, “You know, Tomoyo, I’d keep a distance from Li Leiyun if I were you.”

 

“What are you talking about?” asked Tomoyo, taking her eyes off Sakura for the first time to glance up at the former Thief of the Night. 

 

“I forgot who I’m speaking to. I’m sure what you know what you are up to. But Icarus’ curiosity led to his fall,” said Kai with a careless shrug. “So, it looks like Sakura and Syaoran have made up?”

 

“Not exactly,” said Tomoyo, with a little frown.

 

Eron was telling Sakura, “You have experience playing prince before playing opposite of an impossible Li. You need to help me memorize my lines—the Black Dragon is driving me crazy. I sometimes wonder if he’s acting so poorly on purpose out of spite of me or something.”

 

“Poor Eron-kun,” said Sakura with a chuckle. “I’m sure Jinyu-san’s trying his best.”

And Eron groaned. “That’s what gets me really worried. Why, why did I sign up for this?”

 

“But you are going to be the star of the entire cultural festival—there’s so much buzz about our play already,” said Sakura. 

 

Tomoyo turned to Syaoran, who was glaring over the top of his history book at a certain pair chatting and laughing. Thinking an intervention was necessary, for this row was partly due to her, Tomoyo said out loud, “Do you know Sakura’s going to an interview with a modeling agency?”

 

Syaoran did not look up from the book he was wrangling. “That’s a good thing for her, isn’t it?”

 

With a frown, Tomoyo continued, “You haven’t talked things out with her yet, have you? You really should ask Sakura the real reason why she wants to pursue modeling.”

 

“I get it. I’m sure she want’s to pursue her mother’s footsteps,” said Syaoran. “How can I blame her? I’m the same. That’s why I became the Chosen One.”

 

And Tomoyo tried to keep a straight face with Syaoran’s sullen admission. “Oh well, there’s that too, I suppose.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

With a shrug, Tomoyo said, “Well, that’s for you to find out.”

 

“I hate it when you speak so cryptically,” said Syaoran dryly. “Nasty habit you picked from hanging out with Eriol so much?”

 

“You know I’m completely for her modeling,” said Tomoyo, a twinkle in her violet eyes. “But I’m rather worried about her.”

 

“About what? She’s old enough to know what she’s doing, and I trust her good judgment. Most of the time.” He paused. “Actually, she totally reckless, it’s horrified me numerous times.”

 

“I know, I think she’s completely rushing into things without thinking first,” said Tomoyo. “You know how easily she gets provoked. She’s interviewing with the modeling agency in Shibuya at 5:00 p.m. tomorrow, after school.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?” demanded Syaoran. “It’s not really any of my business, as she clearly pointed out.”

 

“Well, I wish she’d talk to her brother or her father about it, but she’s not,” replied Tomoyo, lowering her lashes. “The agency is a bit shady. I feel like they’re trying to get her into a slave contract and take advantage of her.”

 

Syaoran frowned. “Why can’t you say something then? What agency is it—I can run a background search.”

 

Tomoyo, with a straight face, said, “I don’t know—I’ve never heard of the agency’s name before. I would go with her, but she insists on going alone. It might be one of those places.”

 

“What place?” Syaoran demanded in alarm. But he was interrupted from his train of thought as Meilin burst into the classroom. 

 

“Syaoran! Syaoran! Oh my gosh, Code Red!” exclaimed Meilin, her black pigtails streaming behind her.  

 

Syaoran bolted up from his seat. “What is it? Is the Tang Clan attacking? Is Uncle Wutai staging a coup d’état? Don’t tell me it’s Wu Zian and Zilai again!”

 

Meilin shook her head rapidly. “No, it’s worse! Much worse!” She slammed both hands on Syaoran’s desk. “Your sister’s coming to Japan, Syaoran!”

 

Syaoran paled and gaped at his cousin. “Which one?”

 

“Fuutie,” replied Meilin, catching her breath. “I heard directly from Wei.”

 

Syaoran groaned. “Why?”

 

“She’s always been threatening to come to Japan forever,” replied Meilin. “You know that Cousin Dairen’s business delegation’s coming to Tokyo—for the Li Group Japan’s board meeting.”

 

“They’re flying at then end of next week, right?” asked Syaoran. “At least we’ve got time to prepare.”

 

“No, she’s flying in today—Wei already went to the airport to pick up Fuutie,” replied Meilin.

 

Syaoran turned sheet white as he pushed back his seat. “We’ve got to go find Leiyun.” 

 

Their classmates glanced up curiously. The Li cousins were known to be a little odd and cryptic, but it was the first time they had seen both Syaoran and Meilin thrown into a state of panic, talking to each other in rapid Cantonese. The two as a rule only spoke Japanese in school to improve their language skills. And to their amusement, the flashy Li cousins bolted out of the classroom though the next period was about to start.

 

Meilin and Syaoran did not even have to make it to the school infirmary. It was rare to see Leiyun budge from his office, let alone half sprint down the hallway, passing the juniors’ classrooms, his white coat fanned out behind him.

 

“Fuutie arrived in Japan,” said Leiyun, reaching his cousins first.

 

“I know—I just heard,” replied Syaoran grimly.

 

“She’s staying in your apartment,” declared Leiyun.

 

Syaoran scowled. “She can stay at the Li Mansion—you have many spare rooms there.”

 

“Of course she’ll want to stay closer with her own baby brother—she’s coming all the way to see you,” responded Leiyun with a tight smile.

 

But his usually obedient younger cousin insisted, “I wouldn’t dream of having her stay in my cramped, modest apartment.”

 

“We have a cockroach infestation at the mansion.”

 

“Wasn’t that already taken care of weeks ago?”

 

With a shrug, Leiyun said, “Fine—I don’t see why she can’t just stay at the hotel in Tokyo where Dairen and the rest of the business delegation will be residing during their visit.”

 

“Who’s staying at a hotel?” asked a singsong female voice.

 

And the male cousins wore an identical expression of horror for a spit second as they turned around jerkily to face a tall woman in a cobalt blue long qipao lined with gold, looking out of place in the faded high school hallway. Her straight auburn hair was cut straight, chin-length, and her eyes were a deeper shade of blue than her qipao.

 

Leiyun recovered first, beaming at Syaoran’s oldest sister. “Dearest Fuutie, welcome to Japan. Fancy seeing you here, at this school, in this little town without a major department store. What are you doing here?”

 

“I told Wei to bring me straight to my brother from the airport of course,” said Fuutie. “Now, where’s Syaoran—what are you doing there behind the door?” She pushed Leiyun aside and rushed up to her younger brother and flung both arms around him. “Syaoran, I missed you! It’s been far too long.”

 

“We saw each other last month in Hong Kong,” said Syaoran stonily.

 

Fuutie said, “Barely—it was so hectic with all the Great Elder inauguration preparation. Oh, the professional photos came out and all seven outfits we chose out for you photographed magnificently. It’s a pity Mother cut out the other three outfits. Anyhow, let me take a proper look at you.” She clasped Syaoran’s cheeks with both hands and peered up at his face. “How odd, my baby brother is taller than me, and now I have to look up at you. Bend down a little.” Her piercing sapphire eyes flitted back and forth. “Look how gaunt you’ve become, poor thing. The Clan is overworking you.” She suddenly let go of Syaoran and looked around.

 

It was a rare sight, Leiyun looking like he wanted to camouflage into the off-white wall.

 

“Leiyun, shame on you. I told you to look after Syaoran—he looks positively ghoulish. By the way, that white coat is rather flattering on you. I didn’t know you were doing a doctor cosplay around here,” Fuutie said.

 

“He’s not cosplaying—he’s actually the school doctor,” muttered Meilin.

 

Glancing around the corridors, filled with many curious eyes, Fuutie remarked, “How quaint. So this is what a Japanese high school looks like. I can smell the chalk and the dust and the sweaty high school boys.” She glanced over and spotted Jinyu and whispered loudly to Meilin, “What is the Black Dragon doing cosplaying as a high school student? He looks so out of place.”

 

“He’s actually enrolled as a student here,” interjected Leiyun.

 

“Maybe I can dress up as a student too—I wish sailor uniforms were still in fashion,” sighed Fuutie. “Those were so much cuter.”

 

Kara, watching from the corner, chuckled slightly. Anyone who could make Leiyun green in the face got a brownie point from her.

 

Fuutie’s eyes narrowed on Kara. “And by the way, Leiyun, I’ll be staying at Syaoran’s apartment.”

 

Leiyun sighed in relief audibly, but luckily, Fuutie was distracted as she spotted the emerald-eyed girl amongst the group of Syaoran’s classmates that had gathered in the hallways to gawk at the spectacle.

 

“Oh my gosh, it’s Sakura-chan!” exclaimed Fuutie. She ran up to Sakura and flung her arms around the younger girl. “You’ve grown up so much! You used to be such an adorable wee little thing.”

 

“Fuutie-onee-san. How have you been?” said Sakura timidly, fidgeting, as Fuutie patted her on the head like she used to, not very gently, completely mussing up her light brown hair.

 

“Li-kun has a sister?” asked Naoko curiously. “I never realized he had any siblings back in Hong Kong. She’s so glamorous, like a supermodel.”

 

“Four sisters, as a matter of fact,” Tomoyo said, eyes sparkling. “They look like quadruplets when they’re together.”

 

“Amazing—imagine growing up with such amazing sisters,” remarked Chiharu.

 

“And suddenly, Li Syaoran makes a lot more sense,” murmured Aki, who was the youngest out of three. 

 

“Oh, Tomoyo-chan, right?” Fuutie fished out from her bag a USB stick. “The Great Elder inauguration ceremony video clips you requested from Feimei are in here.”

 

“Thank you, Fuutie-onee-sama!” squealed Tomoyo, holding the precious USB to her chest.

 

Syaoran cleared his throat. “Why don’t we head back to the apartment—I’m sure you want to wash up and unpack after the long flight.”

 

“The flight was short and pleasant—I don’t know why I didn’t think to fly out here sooner,” replied Fuutie. “Anyhow, aren’t you in the middle of the school day? Finish your classes. I’ll wait around.”

 

“There really is no need,” said Syaoran stiltedly. “Wei can show you back home.”

 

“Oh no, I do want to see what the level of education you are getting is like,” said Fuutie. “Our mother’s worried you are slacking off here. I heard they don’t even offer the IB program at this school.”

 

Chiharu tilted her head. “You know, Li-kun’s sister is not like very much like Li-kun at all,” she remarked.

 

“She’s a classic beauty,” remarked Aki, recalling vaguely that his older sister’s husband, Tamemura Asuma, had been close with the Li family during his time in Hong Kong.

 

“What a small classroom,” remarked Fuutie, peering around Syaoran’s homeroom, regardless that class was about to start soon. “Do people still use chalkboards these days? And what’s classroom duty? Punishment? How do you sit in these hard wooden chairs all day?”

 

“Has Fuutie never seen a school before, or did you guys just go to some posh exclusive private school in Hong Kong for the rich and elite?” muttered Kara to Leiyun, who looked amused and anxious at the same time.

 

“You did too,” replied Leiyun. “Eitoukou Academy’s pretty exclusive. Which is why I wanted Syaoran to attend that school instead, if he insisted on staying in Japan.”

 

“I was a scholarship kid,” replied Kara with a scowl. “And Seijou’s a pretty good school in the region too, you know.”

 

Fuutie excitedly called out from the classroom, “Syaoran, what’s this casting sheet on the chalkboard? Are you guys having a cultural festival? When is it? Are you in this Cinderella play?”

 

“Poor Syaoran,” sighed Meilin. “He looks haggard already.”

 

Tomoyo giggled. “But Meilin, he used to get that same expression on his face when you first came to Japan.”

 

And Sakura could not help but chuckle out loud at this remark.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

The last time a day had felt this long for Syaoran was when the Time Card repeated the same day over again half a dozen times seven years ago in elementary school. His sister, Fuutie, tagged along to chemistry class and even insisted upon watching his soccer practice after school. And she had gathered quite a lot of attention, and may admirers as well, with her flashy qipao slit up to her thighs and supermodel stature. Thus, Syaoran was utterly relieved when Wei finally came to pick them up after school to drop them off at the apartment. 

 

“This is our home,” announced Syaoran, lugging Fuutie’s two large suitcases and her valise out of the trunk. How long was his sister planning to stay for—Meilin hadn’t brought nearly this much luggage when she moved in for a whole school semester.

 

“Well, it’s a decent size,” said Fuutie, stepping out of the car and staring up at the apartment complex. “Which floor do I get to use?”

 

“We live on the seventh floor,” remarked Syaoran dryly. “A flat on the floor—and there are other tenants on the same floor.”

 

“Oh?” Fuutie raised an eyebrow. They were barely able to squeeze into the elevator with all the luggage, and Syaoran led her to his flat, hoping Kai was not in. He didn’t know how his sister would feel about living next to a thief, one that was on the Li Council’s ultra black list, above all the Tangs and Wus. 

 

Fuutie walked around the flat, which was neat and tidy, as was expected. “This place is tiny—how did you two manage to live in such a cramped hole?”

 

“Actually, this is pretty spacious as far as Japanese apartments go,” replied Syaoran. But his sister was used to their sprawling villa back at Victoria Peak, overlooking the city.

 

“I can’t believe it’s been seven years since you first came to Japan, and no one ever thought to check on you here,” said Fuutie. “You were just an elementary kid—what was mother thinking?”

 

“Wei was here,” said Syaoran.

 

“Me too,” added Meilin. “For some time.”

 

“And then you ran away as a teen. I don’t know why mother just let you do as you please. Mother really spoilt you.” Fuutie raised an eyebrow. “Any other boy your age would have caused some havoc. Had girls over, wild parties or whatever teenagers do these days.”

 

“Oh he did all that,” muttered Meilin under her breath. “And more.”

 

“So, where’s my room?” asked Fuutie.

 

“That’s the guest bedroom,” Syaoran pointed out.

 

“There are only two bathrooms?” demanded Fuutie. She poked her head into Syaoran’s bedroom. “Okay, I’ll sleep here. This one’s the biggest.”  

 

Syaoran’s teeth were gritted. “Why don’t you stay at the Li mansion—there’s plenty of space and multiple marble bathrooms over there.”

 

“Ew, no. I heard from Lei all about the cockroach infestation—that’s why Dairen and the other cousins are all staying at a hotel when they arrive next week,” said Fuutie, plopping down on Syaoran’s bed. “Well, this’ll have to do.”

 

“So, how long are you staying again?” asked Syaoran cautiously.

 

“Why, are you so eager to have me leave already?” asked Fuutie with a chuckle.

 

“N-no!” stammered Syaoran. “So, what should I cook you for dinner. Pasta? Curry? Stir-fry?”

 

“All three, and your raspberry soufflé please,” said Fuutie. “Empty your closet and hang my stuff up. I’m going to take a nice, long bubble bath.”

 

Meilin said glumly, “We’re doomed, completely doomed. I was supposed to go on a date with Kai today. I’ll have to tell him next time.”

 

“You can escape while you still have a chance,” Syaoran said.

 

“And abandon you? We’re in this together,” she replied loyally.

 

“By the way, Meilin, it’s probably best you don’t reveal you are dating Kai while Fuutie’s here,” said Syaoran. “Kaitou Magician’s still on the Elders’ blacklist. Might be best to avoid him all together while the Li delegation visits.”

 

“It’s not like I plan on marrying him or anything,” groaned Meilin. Kai was not going to be happy when she told him to keep a distance.

 

Syaoran turned to her seriously. “You don’t?”

 

“I mean, it’s too early to think about that. We’re only in high school!” exclaimed Meilin. Though when she was in elementary school, she had been sure she would marry Syaoran. While many marriages in in the Li Clan were political or economic arrangements in nature, Meilin was not from a main branch of the family, so she had more freedom to see who she pleased. She saw the frown on Syaoran’s forehead, which appeared more often as of late since he became the Great Elder.

 

“Even so, you should consider your relationships with a level of sincerity,” said Syaoran slowly.

 

“And what, remain celibate like you?” snorted Meilin. “And Li Syaoran, you better not go all Great Elder on me again—I’m fine with where Kai and I are at right now.” She muttered under her breath, “I mean, if I were you, I’d be more worried about your own situation.”

 

 

 

*******

 

 

 

“Oh my gosh, Cousin Fuutie is driving me crazy,” said Meilin, head drooped over her desk at school the following day. “She expects Syaoran and me to wait on her hand and foot. I mean, we’re busy too.”

 

“Which sister is she again?” asked Miho, who had popped over to Sakura’s classroom in hopes of catching a glimpse of Syaoran’s famed oldest sister.

 

Meilin took Kai’s cup of black coffee and gulped down the bitter liquid. “The oldest sister—she’s 24.” 

 

“The rumored most demonic of the four Li beauties,” said Kai. “Not saying you aren’t a beauty too, Mei-chan, but you are in league of your own, darling.” 

 

“No—you’re right—they’re known as the four beautiful, demonic sisters—no one dared approach them in their school days,” replied Meilin. “Each one of them is more mischievous and conniving than the next. And of course, they used to tease Syaoran and subsequently me mercilessly as we were growing up.”

 

“Syaoran-senpai never speaks much of his sisters,” remarked Miho.

 

“Yeah, because he was traumatized,” said Meilin with a shudder. “They used to treat him as a servant plaything.”

 

“And dress him up in girls’ clothes—I’ve seen pictures,” said Tomoyo.

 

Meilin smothered a giggle. “You know, I wonder where Syaoran gets his patience from. I’m really glad he didn’t get turned away from the entire female sex because of what his sisters did to him. But at the end of the day, he is awfully protective of his sisters. It’s because his father told him, when he was all of three years old, that it was his duty as the man of the family to look after his mother and four sisters.”

 

“I think he took that notion too seriously,” said Kai. “So, tell me about this oldest sister.”

 

Taking out a photograph of the four sisters, Syaoran and herself taken several years ago from her wallet, Meilin said, “Fuutie, who is 24-years-old, around the same age as Sakura’s brother, is awfully serious and clever—she studied finance and works with the Li Group, and she’s also been managing the household accounts. On the surface she seems quite serious and calm—that is unless you get to know her, and she’s the scariest of all four sisters. You definitely don’t want to cross her.”

 

“Who’s the next oldest again?” asked Miho, peering at the four auburn-haired girls who looked similar enough to pass as quadruplets. “It’s hard to keep them straight.” 

 

Meilin pointed to the woman with the hair cropped short in the front, with a tail tied back from her face. “Shiefa, 22, is the strongest of the four sisters—she’s one of the most accomplished female martial artists of the clan and my role model when growing up. She’s also the inventor—she’s always been coming up with gadgets and conducting experiments—poor Syaoran was often the test subject.”

 

“I would like to meet her,” Kai said cryptically.

 

“Oh you may, soon enough,” replied Meilin. “Shiefa has the hottest temper, so it’s best not to provoke her though.”

 

“What about the others?” Miho asked, intrigued.

 

“Fanren, the third sister, is 21. I guess she can be considered feminine and soft-spoken upon first appearance. Of course, unless you get on her bad side. She’s in design school right now—she’s considered the fashionista of the family and probably had the most impact on Syaoran’s current fashion sense. She got along very well with Tomoyo-chan, I remember.” Fanren, with her long auburn hair and gentle voice was popular with the boys, but her two out-spoken older sisters had often intervened. But Syaoran never forgot it was Fanren who had been most insistent on dressing him up in frilly frocks.

 

The youngest of the four, Feimei, with her merry hazel eyes and shoulder-length auburn hair, was light-hearted and full of laughter. She was closest with Syaoran and Meilin because they were most similar in age. “And the youngest sister Feimei who is in pre-law. I don’t know how to put this but I guess she’s the most normal of the bunch. I mean, she’s the closest in age to me, so we got along the best,” said Meilin. Then again, she had lately wondered how close she had been to Feimei in the first place. She had not known that Feimei had been so close with Gold Leopard Wu Zian, or the current Head of the Wu Clan. The fours sisters were very reliant on each other and often kept to themselves even within the Li Clan. And they were difficult to approach because they had an aura of not wanting to be disturbed.

 

“So, where is Syaoran-senpai?” asked Miho, looking around the classroom.

 

“Entertaining Fuutie, I suppose,” said Meilin. “She should just get a boyfriend instead of obsessing over her younger brother.”

 

“She’s so beautiful, I’m surprised she’s not seeing anyone,” remarked Miho.

 

“Well, I suppose she hasn’t seen anyone since Wu Zino,” said Meilin slowly.

 

“Wu Zino?” repeated Sakura.

 

“Yes, the Golden Dragon, or the former head of the Hong Kong triads. He was Zian and Zilai’s older brother,” replied Meilin. “Rumors were he and Fuutie were an item back in the days.”

 

“I thought the Wu Clan and Li Clan hated each other,” said Sakura.

 

“Quite the Romeo and Juliet story, I supposed,” Meilin said. “Fuutie was very tightlipped about it and only a few people knew about it at the time—it’s surprising she did in the first place, since she is such a rule-abiding person.”

 

“What happened to them?” Tomoyo asked, interest piqued.

 

“Well, Zino died,” replied Meilin shortly. “And nobody speaks about him to her anymore, at least based on what I heard from Feimei.”

 

Sakura’s bottom lips trembled. “I never knew about this. How did he die?”

 

Meilin looked up at her friend. “The Black Dragon was said to have become the head of the Hong Kong triads by defeating the former boss, which would have been Zino. But who knows what really transpired.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Sakura and Tomoyo stood in front of a building of a major modeling agency headquartered on a bustling street in Shibuya in downtown Tokyo. “Thanks for agreeing to come with me,” said Sakura to her best friend.

 

“Of course I would come with you to something as important as this,” replied Tomoyo, glancing up and down the streets. “Are you nervous?”

 

“A little bit,” replied Sakura, who ran her hands of her hair, to smooth down the fluff. She had changed out of her school uniform after school into a white A-line dress under a navy blazer, with matching white pumps and a small maroon leather cross-body bag.

 

Tomoyo asked, “Are you sure it’s okay not telling your father that you’re seeing an agency?”

 

“I’ll tell him later, if it goes well,” replied Sakura. “I mean, I’ll probably fail the audition anyway.”

 

“What made you change your mind about modeling?” Tomoyo asked cautiously. “You were rejecting other offers before.”

 

“I decided to just give it a shot,” said Sakura with a shrug. “It’s just an interview, after all.”

 

Yet, Tomoyo could not help recall that Sakura had a surprisingly impetuous streak. She wondered how much of her spat with Syaoran had provoked her into taking up modeling a little more seriously. “Here’s your portfolio,” she said, handing Sakura a cherry pink file containing her head shot and major photo shoots and ad campaigns.

 

Clutching the file to her chest, she turned to her friend. “Tomoyo, did you know that they sell Japanese fashion magazines all over the world?” 

 

Tomoyo nodded. “I’m sure you can get them in most major international cities.”

 

“In Hong Kong too,” said Sakura. “Do you remember the Vogue Nippon spread with Arima-san last summer?”

 

“Yes, you photographed so beautifully with all the lovely jewelry and the Grecian dresses,” sighed Tomoyo.

 

“Syaoran saw the magazine too,” Sakura said. “I didn’t think he would have. But his sisters read Japanese magazines, so he happened to see it.”

 

Tomoyo blinked. “I see. I guess in this day and age, it is natural if you are a model that your pictorials can be seen anywhere in the world.” Sakura’s unspoken underlying reason. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?”

 

Sakura nodded. “I want to go in by myself.”

 

“Well, I’ll be waiting downstairs. Good luck!” said Tomoyo. And she watched her friend head down the lobby, toward the elevators.

 

Sakura, as she was showed by the receptionist to a room in the back of the agency, wished with all her heart that Tomoyo could be with her.

 

Once Sakura was in the room, with a panel of executives from the agency, she regretted even more for not asking Tomoyo to join her. She hadn’t felt this nervous since the opening night of Star-Crossed.

 

The executives made her face them squarely, turn side ways, and asked her questions such as her age, height and modeling experience.

 

“Quite a remarkable portfolio,” remarked the agency’s head, flipping through the clear file she had handed over to them. “Fashion photo shoot in New York photographed by the Mike Kant for a Valentine’s Day campaign. A Tasaki jewelry ad for Vogue Japan with the top actress Akagi Arima. And a bunch of teen fashion magazines, all without proper management.”

 

“She doesn’t have that remarkable of a face in real life,” remarked the in-house photographer.

 

“She’s not tall enough for runway,” added the talent director.

 

“Sakura-chan is better suited for fashion and beauty shoots. But her walk is fantastic—I’ve seen her in motion at the Japan Young Designer Contest last year, where I discovered her,” pointed out an agent. “She has a naturally bright energy.”


The talent director shook his head. “I don’t know. She’s not the glamorous type that is popular right now, nor does she have much charisma.”

 

“But those green eyes are very striking,” conceded the photographer on the panel. “You’d never forget them.”

 

“The name is Kinomoto Sakura. Any relation to the Kinomoto Group by any chance?” asked the agency head.

 

Sakura bit her lips.

 

“I guess not. It was just suspicious because you had such a fancy portfolio for someone so unseasoned as you,” said the head. “The right connections get you a long way in this industry. It’s a brutal and competitive one.” 

 

“Okay, do a walk now,” said the talent director.

 

Gritted her teeth Sakura walked down the room, spun around and walked back.

 

“Surprisingly graceful,” conceded the head. “But lacking overall presence, I say. You might do well for a couple years, in minor girls’ fashion magazines. But you’re simply not top model material.”

 

“She’s the daughter of the late top model Amamiya Nadeshiko,” said the agent.

 

The Amamiya Nadeshiko?” The agency head blinked and stared up at Sakura again. “I see. I can see a trace of Nadeshiko. She was truly a great model, a rare gem in the industry, who passed too soon in her prime. And she was kind to everyone, each staff member, and a pleasure to work with. I had experience first hand because back then I was a manager for one of her rival models at the time.”

 

“The public loves these kinds of stories. Legendary model’s hidden illegitimate daughter. Advertisers will have a field day,” pointed out the talent director.

 

“I’m not illegitimate,” protested Sakura.

 

“Maybe we can dye her hair that brilliant violet shade, or put a long wig on her—she’d look like carbon copy of Nadeshiko,” said the head. “All right, I see some potential in you. Show her the contract.” A secretary handed her a thick document. “You can look over it. Your guardian will have to sign it too, as you are underage.”

 

Sakura bowed politely and left the room. Then she let out a long sigh. She hadn’t realized she couldn’t breathe under the scrutiny of the men. Never had she felt so small and insignificant.

 

“How did it go?” asked Tomoyo excitedly, as she saw Sakura come out of the building.

 

“I got an offer to sign on to the agency,” replied Sakura shortly.

 

“That’s great!” squealed Tomoyo. “This is a top agency, my mom said, and manages some of the biggest names in the business. Did you say okay?”

 

“I don’t know.” Sakura stared down at the contract. “I’ll need more time to think about it.”

 

From across the street, they heard a voice call out, “Oh, isn’t that Sakura and Tomoyo?” They looked up and saw Syaoran’s oldest sister wave her hand. Her arm was linked to Dr. Li Jingmei’s arm, while Syaoran and Meilin trudged behind them, half a dozen shopping bags in hand each. Fuutie dashed across the crosswalk. “What are you two doing in Tokyo?”

 

Meilin, who caught up to Fuutie and Jingmei finally, struggled to gather up the shopping bags, said, “Fancy bumping into you guys here. I didn’t realize you two were coming into the city today.”

 

Tomoyo smiled slightly, looking over at Syaoran, watching from the sidelines looking almost bored. “Sakura had an interview with a modeling agency,” she said.

 

“Wait, isn’t that a top three modeling agency?” asked Jingmei, who had a day off, staring up at the building. “Wow, that’s amazing!”

 

“Are you modeling professionally now?” asked Fuutie. She stared hard at Sakura, peering straight into her face, and remarked offhandedly, “You know, you’re not as beautiful as your Vogue Nippon spread made you out to be.”

 

“Hoe?”

 

“You’re still cute—just not as glamorous in the photo shoot with the long hair extensions and emeralds.” Fuutie grinned, pinching the younger girl’s cheek. “But I like you like this best, looking your age.”

 

Jingmei laughed. “Fanren and I always buy Japanese fashion magazines. Oh did I tell you about the time that Syaoran stole my July edition of Vogue Nippon from me? I was so mad because it was sold out in the bookstore and I hadn’t finished reading all the articles.”

 

“Oh dear, we are going to miss our dinner reservation,” said Syaoran out loud, pointing to his watch.

 

“You guys should join us for dinner,” said Fuutie, clapping her hands together. “Yes, that would be wonderful.”

 

And Sakura said quickly, “No, I wouldn’t want to interrupt a family outing.”

 

At the same time, Syaoran interjected, “Do you know how hard it was to make that reservation at the restaurant—it’s usually booked out thee months in advance. We can’t just increase the party number!”

 

Fuutie raised an eyebrow and glanced between her brother and Sakura. “Sorry, are you guys not friends anymore or something? I did hear that my tactless brother stole the Clow Cards from you.”

 

“It’s not like that!” exclaimed Sakura and Syaoran simultaneously.

 

And somehow, Fuutie, who should not even know her way around Shibuya, ushered the whole group toward the super crowded and trendy Japanese restaurant, and much to the dismay of the waiter squeezed the entire group into a four-person table.

 

“See, that’s not so bad,” said Fuutie, as she opened up her menu with leisure. Syaoran and Sakura were squeezed up against each other in the booth next to her, to give her arm space, while Tomoyo, Meilin and Jingmei were seated across from them. Without looking up from the menu, Fuutie asked, “So, what has my insensitive brother done to offend you this time, Sakura?”

 

Sakura nearly choked on her glass of ice water. Syaoran handed her his napkin, knowing it was going to be a long dinner.

 

“I apologize for him in advance,” continued Fuutie. “He has a good heart, but he’s rather uncouth at times, because he’s a brat who’s the youngest of five.” 

 

“Syaoran does not think Sakura should model professionally,” Meilin blurted out. “What do you think about this?”

 

Fuutie replied, “Why is it any of Syaoran’s business? I personally think Sakura makes a lovely model. Don’t you think so, Syaoran?”

 

“That’s not what I meant!” exclaimed Syaoran. “If Sakura wants to model, or sign on to an agency, that’s her choice.”

 

“Well, I’ll sign it then. Eron-kun said it’s a good idea. That it will open many doors for me,” snapped Sakura.

 

“Oh, so Eron thinks it’s a good idea so you’ll do it?” retorted Syaoran. “Since when did he offer such sound career advice?”

 

Fuutie blinked back and forth between her younger brother and the Card Mistress, surprised to learn for the first time that her brother spoke more than three words at a time. “Wait, who is this Eron?”

 

“Chang Eron. Dark One No. 1. Sakura’s ex-boyfriend,” Meilin filled in for her older cousin.

 

“I see.” Fuutie grinned.

 

“He’s the one with the sexy, long ponytail and golden eyes, right?” said Jingmei. “He’s hot. Though his twin sister is quite catty.” 

 

“I remember him—he stood out from the crowd. He’s too pretty for his own good though,” remarked Fuutie. “I prefer more masculine guys.”

 

“Like Touya!” squealed Jingmei. “He’s a dreamboat. I wish I met him when he was still in junior high school though—he looked so hot in a gakuran-style uniform—Yuki-sensei showed me an old picture of him.”

 

“Ah, Yukito was lovely too, though he’s more Fanren’s type,” Fuutie said. “But you know, at the end of the day, there’s no one who can really beat our Leiyun in terms of how handsome he was in his high school uniform.”

 

Scowling, Sakura stated, “Nobody beats Yukito-san, who was so beautiful in his Seijou sky blue blazer.” At this Tomoyo nodded absentmindedly, for Yukito with his frail beauty, large doe-likes eyes and porcelain skin was a known legend in their high school, especially when paired with the swarthy good looks of Sakura’s older brother.

 

Fuutie reached into her wallet and pulled out an old photo. “Look at our Lei, then tell me if his beauty isn’t unparalleled.”

 

Sakura and Tomoyo curiously peered at the photo of the older Li cousins from school days. There was Fuutie and Jingmei, in matching uniforms of navy blue blazers and maroon tartan pleated skits with matching ties. Next to them, there was a boy with vivid turquoise eyes, his sandy brown hair slightly tousled, also wearing the same navy blazer with the gold crest of the school on his breast and a red and navy pinstriped tie. A taller male cousin with black hair and glasses, who Fuutie identified as Dairen, had an armed hooked around Leiyun’s shoulders. The group as a whole was a striking bunch, but the eyes immediately went to the brunette boy, whose smile was so bright it lit up his face, and also brought laughter to those around him.

 

For a long time, Tomoyo stared at the smiling boy with the twinkling eyes—traces of this high school boy could still be in the current 24-year-old Li Leiyun’s handsome face. It wasn’t the silver hair, the paler complexion or more chiseled matured features that made a difference. It was the eyes, the brightness in the eyes that had faded into a dull, expressionless marble orbs.

 

“Well, isn’t he handsome?” asked Fuutie. “He was even more handsome in real life though; he had a natural aura about him. Leiyun would flash a smile and all the female students and teachers would swoon. The boys too. They worshipped the ground he stepped on. Syaoran did too, didn’t you?”

 

Jingmei added, “It wasn’t just because he was good-looking though, it was his demeanor—he was a born leader I don’t think there was a year he missed being voted as student council president.” She sighed. “Who knew his personality would turn out so cruddy, eight years later.”

 

Out of the corner of her eyes, Sakura watched Tomoyo, who was always drawn to beauty, become fixated by the boy in the picture, a boy who no longer existed.

 

“Oh, and Syaoran in his British-style kindergarten uniform was the most adorable thing ever, do you want to see it?” asked Fuutie, fishing through the rest of the pictures in her wallet.

 

Syaoran cleared his throat loudly. “The waiter’s been standing there for the past 10 minutes to take our order.”

 

 

 

After a whirlwind day, Sakura, lying on her stomach on her bed at home, flipped through the many pages of the modeling contract. It wanted her to move into the agency’s dormitory in Tokyo for its models. She was not allowed to cut her hair as she pleased. She was not allowed to date or have a relationship. It was a five-year contract. She would be in her 20s by the time it expired. She shoved the sheets of paper underneath a book and then plopped into her bed.

 

“Why did you come home so late? How did the interview go?” asked Kero-chan.

 

“I don’t know,” replied Sakura, collapsing into her pillow. She found a soft plush black teddy bear and hugged it to her chest. “They didn’t see me for me, but as my mother’s daughter.”

 

Kero-chan replied, “Is that necessary a bad thing? After all, you became Card Captor because of your mother’s bloodline.”

 

“I know that. But there are things I want to attain with my own strength,” replied Sakura. “Kero-chan, I wish I can pause time at this moment, and I don’t have to think about the future or what lies ahead.”

 

“You differ from Clow Reed in that matter,” said Kero-chan. “All he could see was the future and the past, so he failed to live in the present.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Later that night, Meilin heard a gentle rapping on her window. She swung it open and there was Kai, perched on the windowsill, teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “Kai! You shouldn’t be here! Fuutie is sleeping next doors.”

 

Kai gave her a wink. “Darling Mei-chan, your dark circles are worse than mine. What has Syaoran’s demon sister been doing to you?”

 

“Oh, it’s not nearly as bad for me as it is for Syaoran. She’s been making us go around all of city, touring Tokyo Tower, Shibuya, Ginza, Akihabara, Tokyo Disneyland—I swear I’ve seen more of Japan in the past few days than I have in all my years of living here. You know Syaoran has absolutely no knowledge of tourist destinations, let alone all the trendy hangout places, so of course I’ve been making all the schedules. And she eats so much. Brunch, lunch, afternoon tea, crepes, dinner, dessert, ice cream, then late-night fried chicken delivery.” Meilin rubbed her stomach, looking green in the face.

 

“How was dinner tonight in Shibuya?” asked Kai.

 

Meilin wrinkled her nose, not even surprised he knew though she hadn’t told him yet. “Frankly, I don’t know. It was so awkward because we bumped into Tomoyo and Sakura, and we had to squeeze all six of us into a table for four. And Tomoyo insisted on filming the dinner, while Jingmei and Fuutie gushed over how handsome Sakura’s brother is. And the poor waiter was flustered and got all our orders mixed up, while Sakura and Syaoran were glowering at each other throughout the entire meal.”

 

“You guys should have asked me for recommendations,” said Kai. “I’m a Japan native, and I know all the best places to go to. In fact, I can join you guys next time!”

 

Meilin shook her head. “No, you have to keep a low profile while Fuutie’s here.”

 

“So, why do we have to keep our relationship a secret?” asked Kai with a frown.

 

“Cousin Fuutie will probably kill you if she finds out you are my boyfriend, let alone Kaitou Magician,” said Meilin. “She threw the greatest fit when she realized the Five Force Sword was stolen by Kaitou Magician. And she’s very fixed on justice. She was always in the ethics committee in her schooldays. She hates dishonest people and criminals the most.”

 

“True, I was a criminal, but you’re calling me a dishonest person? And didn’t you say she dated a triad boss?”

 

They heard a rustling in the hallway. Rapidly, Meilin shoved Kai out the window and swung her curtains shut.

 

Fuutie came in, bleary eyed. “Meilin, is that you? Are you talking by yourself in there?”

 

“Y-yes! I’m practicing my lines for the school play.”

 

“Oh, Cinderella, right? What were you playing again? I can’t wait to watch it,” said Fuutie. “Now, about tomorrow, I think I’d like to visit Himeji Castle.”

 

“But that’s in Kobe,” said Meilin.

 

“Good, we’ll have to have Kobe beef there then.” Fuutie paused for a second. “Wait a minute. I’m being insensitive here. I’m sure you’d want to spend time with your boyfriend after school.”

 

“B-boyfriend?” squeaked Meilin. “W-what boyfriend?”

 

“A girl your age should be dating,” remarked Fuutie. “It’s been ages since you and Syaoran have broken off your engagement. And there seems to be a lot of handsome boys in your high school. Anyone you are interested in?”

 

“No!”

 

“I see,” said Fuutie. “Well, it’s all right to take your time too. Just don’t fall for a bad boy. Make sure you get my approval. Avoid boys like that Mizuki Kai—he seems like a complete delinquent.”

 

Meilin heard a cough outside her windows and raised her voice in alarm. “Of course not—he’s totally not my type! You know me better!”

 

Fuutie laughed out loud. “Yeah, no way you’d like someone as flakey as him. You’ve always liked the serious, hardworking types, like Syaoran. I’ll introduce you to my friend’s little brother when we go back to Hong Kong next time. Tony Tang is from a good family, smart, and very cute as well.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Some people disliked the rain, but Tomoyo liked watching the water drops steak across the car windows, distorting the world outside into a blur of light and shapes. She liked to hear the pitter patter of raindrops on the colorful umbrellas that brightened the grayness with rainbow hues and the squeaking of rain boots in puddles of mud. She liked early rainy mornings, where you could smell the musty scent of dirt and fresh grass. It had been so difficult keeping a straight face at dinner yesterday with Syaoran’s sister and doctor cousin—she couldn’t wait to get to school and tell Eriol all about it.

 

Tomoyo grabbed her polka-dotted clear umbrella and told her chauffeur, “You can drop me off here.” She had classroom duty that day so she had arrived earlier than usual.

 

“But it’s raining outside—we’ll take you to the front gate of the school,” said her chief bodyguard. “Your leg is still injured.”

 

Tomoyo shook her head. “My ankle doesn’t hurt anymore—I don’t even need crutches anymore. And I like walking in the rain.” And she shot out of the car before her four bodyguards could protest, spreading out her clear umbrella.

 

There, ahead of her, was a solitary figure walking along without an umbrella. He was wearing a soft angora gray sweater over cream-colored pants that were getting splattered by the rain. She walked down the street slowly, otherwise empty, because it was so early, keeping her distance.

 

Then, she thought she heard a mewing. Indeed, it was a little white kitten that was getting soaked in the rain, having found shelter under a piece of cardboard. Someone had abandoned it, or maybe it had lost its mother. Tomoyo was tempted too run toward the small creature. But instead, she paused. He must have heard the kitten too, for he paused. And he glanced down at the small shivering creature.

 

Oh no, he’s going to step on it, was Tomoyo’s immediate thought. Or torture it. Didn’t he lock Syaoran up in a dungeon before? Hopefully he would just walk away. But Li Leiyun did neither. Slowly, he crouched down, kneeling next to the kitten. He tilted his head, his damp silvery hair falling into his eyes. And the kitten looked up at him, tilting his head as well.

 

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Leiyun said, holding out a finger. The kitten licked it with a pink tongue. “Are you lost? Or abandoned?” He glanced up, and Tomoyo dodged behind a tree.

 

He murmured softly, “I guess you’ve been left here. You don’t like the wet, do you? It’s cold, isn’t it? I don’t like being cold either.” And then he stripped off his sweater and wrapped it around the kitten. He was only wearing a thin white cotton shirt underneath. But he scooped up the little kitten wrapped up in the sweater, cradling the creature close to his body to shield it from the wet, and continued toward the school. Holding onto her umbrella handle, Tomoyo watched the rain soak through his shirt, molding to his back, his skin showing through the wet fabric.

 

 

 

After putting fresh water in the flower vase, Tomoyo couldn’t help wander past the infirmary before classes started. What had he done with the kitten?

 

There were definitely female squeals coming from the infirmary. “Kyaa! He’s adorable! Is he yours? What’s his name?”

 

“I don’t know. I found him outside school,” replied Leiyun, his white coat over a dry button-down shirt. “Do you want to adopt him?”

 

“I have a dog at home, I’m afraid,” said Naoko with a sigh. “She hates cats.”

 

Tomoyo watched Leiyun take the kitten and rub him dry with a fluffy towel. “It’s feeding time, you must be so hungry,” he said, placing the nipple of a little bottle of milk to the kitten’s mouth. And the kitten latched on. “Good kitty,” he cooed.

 

“It seems attached to you,” remarked Erika incredulously, as the kitty mewed contentedly.

 

“Another stray kitten seems to be more attached to me than she admits,” remarked Leiyun absentmindedly.

 

Tomoyo blinked, for she had been standing by the door silently, and his back was toward the door. She remarked, entering the infirmary, “You can’t give kittens cow milk—it’s not good for their digestion.”

 

Leiyun looked up at her, amused. “Yes, I know that. I got Jinyu to run to a pet store and pick up some cat replacement milk and some other goodies on his way to school. You know a lot about raising cats. Have you raised one before?”

 

Tomoyo shook her head. “My mom’s allergic to cat fur.”

 

“I see, that’s a pity. I was wondering if you wanted to adopt this little one.” Leiyun looked down and saw that the kitten had finished his meal and had crawled into a little ball on his lap. He scooped up the kitten. “Well, maybe I’ll just have to keep you now, won’t I?”

 

“Are you picking up stray animals again, Lei?” asked Fuutie, as she strolled into the infirmary, a cup of coffee in one hand and a croissant in the other, arms linked to Sakura, while Meilin behind them carried a huge brown paper bag of pastries.

 

Meilin looked around the room. “What’s everyone doing here?”

 

“Isn’t he a beauty?” Leiyun said, holding up the small creature for his cousins to see.

 

Fuutie shrugged. “He looks underfed.”

 

Catching a glimpse of the kitty’s face for the first time, Tomoyo exclaimed, “He has ice blue eyes. They’re like your eyes.”

 

“Are they?” Leiyun turned the kitty around to face him and stared up at the feline eyes. “Maybe they are, if Tomoyo-chan says so. I will have to adopt you now, won’t I? What should I call you?”

 

“You are not keeping that kitten,” said Kara, who had been twirling around on Leiyun’s stool. “Cat hair gets everywhere, especially on black clothes, you know that! Stop bringing weird creatures to the house.”

 

Fuutie giggled. “Lei’s always been like that—picking up abandoned things and raising them. He gave Meilin a little cockatoo that he had rescued from the abuse of an evil cousin because Meilin was heartbroken after her first bird died. He then rescued a little puppy and gave it to Syaoran as a birthday present when he was five—and named it the most ridiculous name. Eagle or something.”

 

“He was named after a star,” said Leiyun. “Syaoran named him Vega, the brightest star of the Lyra constellation.”

 

“Why did you name him Eagle then?” asked Fuutie.

 

“Vega means ‘swooping eagle,’” replied Leiyun. “It was Uncle Ryuuren’s favorite star, you know.”

 

Sakura, who only remained in the infirmary because Fuutie’s arm was tightly linked around hers, glanced up at the older man. At times like this, no matter how much she wanted to believe that he was an imposter, she was reminded profoundly that Leiyun was Syaoran’s cousin. This was the person who had been a brother and mentor to Syaoran when he was young, perhaps the single most influential person to him growing up.

 

“Was it? How do you know?” asked Fuutie.

 

“There’s a story behind the star, of Princess Weaver and the Shepherd, two lovers separated by the Milky Way,” replied Leiyun softly, suddenly looking up at Sakura.  

 

It had been her favorite star, Vega of Lyra. One summer’s evening, she and Syaoran had watched the constellation together atop a grassy hill. It had been their own little secret. Sakura had to look away from Leiyun’s piecing gaze.

 

“Oh, I know that story—we have it in China as well, that of Zhinü and Niulang who are reunited during the Qixi Festival,” said Meilin. “It’s called the Tanabata Festival here.”

 

“Do you remember, Lei, when Syaoran was around seven, he beat up some of our classmates for throwing rocks at Eagle,” remarked Fuutie.

 

“That ferocious little boy beat up half a dozen middle schoolers,” said Leiyun with a chuckle. “I told Jin, that was what he had to aim for, that he would have to be able to beat Li Syaoran if he was going to be recognized by the Clan.”

 

“So, are you going to keep the kitten?” Meilin asked her older cousin.

 

As the kitten purred, Leiyun said, “Well, if his owner doesn’t show up, I guess I will.”

 

“What are you going to name him?” Meilin asked.

 

“God knows Leiyun’s forever giving weird name.” Fuutie snickered. “He’s the one who named the Black Dragon. And Pink Flamingo for that Wu girl. Oh, and the Gold Leopard of course. Meilin, what was your old cockatoo’s name? Something weird. like a fruit?” 

 

“My cockatoo?” asked Meilin. “He was Pineapple. Leiyun named him.”

 

“What kind of name is Pineapple?” asked Tomoyo.

 

Fuutie shrugged, but Meilin remarked, “Now that I think of it, Pineapple kind of looked like you, Kai.”

 

“Me?” Kai, who the others hadn’t realized was sleeping in the spare bed in the infirmary, opened up the curtains around the single bed.

 

“Yeah, it had this spikey yellow crest, like your hair,” said Meilin with a giggle.

 

“It’s not only animals,” murmured Fuutie. “Leiyun does that with humans too, picks up strays and takes them under his wing. Syaoran after he lost his father, Jinyu when he first came to the Li Clan when he was around eight, Chang Erika—and even that weird Reed girl over there.”

 

And Leiyun stared at the kitten and seemed to have an epiphany. “Okay, I have the perfect name for you. I dub you Byakko.”

 

Meilin giggled. “As in White Tiger? He’s just a little kitty, not a tiger.”

 

“I guess technically, tigers are a part of the cat family,” Tomoyo pointed out.

 

“Byakko-nyan, do you like your new name?” asked Leiyun. And the little kitten rubbed his head on Leiyun’s palm and mewed. And Leiyun looked up with a smile, the kind that lit up his eyes to a brilliant turquoise, the color of a tropical ocean, “Hey, you like it? Then Byakko you are.”

 

The girls in the room gazed at the kitten, thinking it a very blessed creature. And for a flit second, Tomoyo wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that warmth. Or if any human had ever been on the receiving end of it.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Unbeknownst to herself, Tomoyo again found her feet taking her toward the infirmary at the end of day. She told herself it was on the way to the stairwell, and she only wanted to peek in, but the door was ajar. She didn’t see any students in the infirmary for a change. Was Leiyun out? And then, she saw him curled up on the windowsill, head rested against the glass, eyes closed, basking in the sunlight like a cat. Byakko-chan was curled up in a fluffy white ball on his lap, also napping. She walked in, closer, watching the sunlight catch the silvery strands of his hair that stood from the static. Here, sleeping like this, he seemed almost angelic, young and vulnerable.

 

She wondered if he had never been sent on that secret mission, if he hadn’t been trapped in the Cavern of Reservoirs for all those years, if he would have been a different person. Maybe closer to the bright, gentle boy from Fuutie’s high school photograph. He was an odd man, perhaps more sinister and world-weary than anyone she knew, though he masked it quite well behind that careful smile. He was a calculating, someone who stood behind and was able to see the larger picture. She could recognize that in him because it was a trait she also shared. As did Eriol, but Leiyun, unlike Clow Reed’s reincarnation, was not an ancient soul acting as a teenager. Leiyun was more like a child pretending to be an adult.

 

“If you kiss me, I may or may not wake up from my hundred-year slumber,” he murmured without stirring.

 

She nearly jumped, because she hadn’t realized she had walked up that close to him, or meant to stare over him this closely. Nor had she expected him to be awake. “Are you playing at being Sleeping Beauty?”

 

His eyes were still shut, but it was as if he could see her, for the corner of his lips curled into a lazy smile. “I didn’t want to speak because I wanted to let you admire my beauty a little longer. But Byakko-chan is getting restless.” And he held up the kitten, who let out a wide yawn, revealing its sharp little teeth. Leiyun echoed the yawn and stretched, liked an oversized cat himself.

 

Yes, he was an odd man-child. Animals liked him, his cousins adored him, students idolized him, which meant he couldn’t be too bad, right?

 

“Surely you didn’t come here just to admire my handsome visage,” he said, looking up at her with half-shut lids that hid those ice blue irises.

 

Tomoyo bit her lips and finally said, “Li-sensei, I have a favor to ask of you.”

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“As you know, Class 2-2 and 3-2 is putting on a school play for the cultural festival. Cinderella.”

 

“Yes, the whole school and the next one over knows.”

 

“I don’t want to play prerecorded background music but have a live orchestra. I heard you are in charge of the music portion of the festival, so would you mind being the conductor for the orchestra?” asked Tomoyo.

 

Leiyun smiled. “Why are you asking me of all people?”

 

“Because I think you will be the best person for the job,” replied Tomoyo solemnly.

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Even though you don’t like me?”

 

“Liking someone has nothing to do with acknowledging their talent,” said Tomoyo.

 

“Should I be hurt or flattered?” asked Leiyun. “And what do I get out of this? What will you do for me in return then?”

 

Tomoyo blinked. “Is there anything you want from me?”

 

Leiyun smiled. “Ah, you feign ignorance and mock me.”

 

“It’s your choice,” Tomoyo said. “I thought, it’s something you may enjoy as well. But you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”  

 

“I’ll do it,” said Leiyun. “It’s bothersome, but I’ll do it because you asked me. And I wouldn’t want to fall below your expectations of me. And besides, if I’m conducting, I probably won’t be causing other mischief. Isn’t that right, Tomoyo-chan?”

 

Tomoyo laughed. “Am I that transparent?”

 

“No, you aren’t.” Leiyun grinned. “But now, you will owe me a favor. Because, I will whip that hopeless student orchestra into shape by the Cultural Festival.”

 

“I’ll leave the music to you then, Li-sensei,” said Tomoyo with a smile.

 

And Leiyun smiled thinly. “It’s good to see you up and about on both your feet again.”

 

Tomoyo said quietly, “I should thank you, Li-sensei. I believe your help really made a difference in how quickly my ankle healed.”

 

“You know I’m just a quack,” said Leiyun with a wave of his hand. “I think you just have good stamina.”

 

While Tomoyo thought otherwise, she didn’t say it. What exactly was the nature of Leiyun’s power, which to date, as far as she knew, he had never revealed.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Sakura had noticed that Tomoyo slipped off for periods during the day to the infirmary to see Leiyun. Perhaps her ankle was bothering her, but she didn’t like the way Leiyun was always watching Tomoyo, as if fascinated. Like a cat who found a mouse to pounce on. But Tomoyo was no mouse but a cat herself. She could deal with Leiyun. Sakura thought something was off when she found her bedroom door ajar when she returned from school. Had her brother come back early? It was his evening off.

 

Standing in her room, Touya turned to her, holding up sheets of paper, demanding, “When were you going to talk to us about this?”

 

It took a moment for her to register that it was her modeling contract with the agency. “How did you find that?” asked Sakura. “Did you go through my stuff?”

 

“I just went into your room to borrow a pair scissors, and saw it on your desk, for the world to see,” replied Touya. “Are you crazy? What were you thinking, trying to go behind our backs again?”

 

“That’s not it!” Sakura exclaimed.

 

“You’re always like this,” said Touya. “Did you ever stop to think, this might be something you should talk to your family about?” 

 

“This is why I couldn’t tell you!” replied Sakura. “Because I knew you would disapprove of me modeling, or doing anything on my own. Because you think I am a baby who can’t to anything by myself.”

 

Touya stepped back, as if she had slapped him, and replied, “How can say that? You know it’s not that I’m opposed to you modeling. I just wished you would have told me, or father at least about it first. Because what’s the rush? Isn’t it okay to take your time? You’re only in high school.”

 

How was it that Syaoran had been right? Her brother was furious at her, and it was her fault. But she couldn’t back down. Because it would mean that Syaoran had been right. “There isn’t time,” she said. “Right now’s the important time to get into modeling, according to the agent, or else I will lose the right opportunity.”

 

“Who is this agent, and who determines what the right timing is?” demanded Touya. “Who have you been meeting with on your own—are you an idiot? You’re still a child—you need your legal guardian’s position to sign any contract!”

 

“What is this commotion?” asked Kinomoto Fujitaka, stepping into the room, glancing between his son and daughter.

 

“Father, Sakura’s trying to sign a modeling contract without even talking to us about it. She’s a high school junior—she has no time to be fooling around.”

 

“Touya-san, calm down,” Fujitaka interjected. “Sakura, if it is something you really want to do, I won’t stop you. But as someone who watched your mother up-close throughout her modeling career, I know it is not an easy job, one that is unpredictable and also brutal. As a father, I would wish to protect you from such a world. But ultimately, the choice is up to you.”

 

“I didn’t mean to keep it a secret,” said Sakura, feeling a lump in her throat. “It’s just, I’m just confused myself, so I needed time to think about it on my own.”

 

“I’m completely against this, otou-san,” snapped Touya. “Do you know how dangerous the show business is these days? What kind of people she would have to deal with? Not to mention, what about college? This is her most important year to prepare for university. And she hasn’t even filled out her college survey sheet yet!”  

 

Fujitaka put an arm around Touya. “It is Sakura-san’s future, and her decision to make.”

 

“Well, as her family, when her decision is horrible, we have to point it out!” exclaimed Touya. “I swear, I never though having a little sister will be this big of a headache in my adult life! I retire from brotherhood and caring—I just can’t handle the stress anymore. I’ve surrendered to every other detail—I let you be Card Mistress, I let you hang out with that Brat, I overlook having that gluttonous yellow gremlin mooch off our house for seven years—how can that tiny creature eat as much as Yukito? I watched you stage your fake death, for heaven’s sake. Give me a break!”

 

Sakura’s bottom lips trembled. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disobey or disappoint you or Father. But it’s my way of doing something on my own, without anyone’s help.”

 

“You’re only in high school. You can take some help. You don’t have to work!”

 

“Why? You worked so many part-time jobs when you were my age,” replied Sakura.

 

“I did, so that you wouldn’t have to,” said Touya. “Father got tenured as a professor now, and I have a medical degree. We can take care of you, at least till you are grown up. You can remain a child, a little longer.”

 

“But for me, this is also a means of feeling a bit closer to Mother,” said Sakura, staring at the scattered sheets of paper on the floor. “I don’t have any memories of her. At least through modeling, I felt like I could undergo the experiences she underwent and feel the feelings she felt standing in front of the camera. When she was my age, she was already a world-renowned model, married to Father and had you!” And feeling hot tears sting her eyes, she spun out of the living room, hating her brother, hating Syaoran and most of all, hating herself.

 

“I’m not a gluttonous yellow gremlin!” shouted Kero-chan, hidden from view in Sakura’s desk drawer. 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“No, no, no! Prestissimo, prestissimo, prestissimo!” called out Li Leiyun, waving his conductor’s baton. “Flutes, come in here! Tuba, you are off tempo. Who’s that squeaking noise? Is that the first clarinet again? Fix your reed.” The frown on his forehead deepened as they played on. “Violin, allegro! I said, allegro, not allegretto. Do any of you have any sense of rhythm? Get your noses out of your scores and just listen around you for a moment! Yes, you, cello! I’m talking about you. You’re the worst of the bunch!” 

 

“Oh my gosh, Li-sensei’s a demon conductor,” said the first cello, a senior, in near tears.

 

“It runs in the family, it can’t be helped, Fumio-senpai,” whispered Sakura. But she also felt like crying as Leiyun grilled them, making them repeat the same measure over and over again. Her finger tips were completely numb and her ears were ringing. This was nothing like music class, and Sakura realized that Leiyun had been going easy on them. Orchestra practices for the Cinderella play were a whole other story. Syaoran was tense on his chair, and didn’t even look anywhere except at Leiyun’s conducting and his music stand.

 

“Second violin!” called out Leiyun. “Second violin! I take it back—you’re the worst of the bunch. This is the fourth time you’ve missed that note. Oh, it’s you, Kinomoto Sakura. Why don’t I move you down to third violin or better yet, out that door if you plan to space out so often?”

 

“Hoe, I—I’ll learn the notes, Li-sensei!” squeaked Sakura.

 

“I don’t need you to learn the notes—I need you to play them!” barked Leiyun. “Is that too much to ask?”

 

Sakura wanted to melt away into her chair as all eyes were on her. “Nope!”

 

“This is just a little play for the cultural festival,” whispered the first flute. “Why does it even need full-fledged orchestration?”

 

“Didn’t you hear? Daidouji Tomoyo’s directing—she’s won’t have anything subpar,” said the second flute. “Gosh, I thought Li-sensei was so handsome and nice—but he’s an absolute ogre. I miss our old music teacher now. When’s Nomura-sensei coming back?”

 

The first cello groaned, “I actually volunteered for the orchestra because I thought this would be easier than painting sets or being on stage or something.”

 

Leiyun pointed his baton towards the strings section. “All right, we’ll start from the top with first violin.” He frowned after a few bars and tapped his stand. “First violin, what’s the point of being on rhythm and hitting all the right notes, when there’s no emotion! Think of Cinderella. She’s feeling lonely, abandoned by the world after her father dies. Your music sounds computer-generated—we might as well replace you with one. Where’s the soul, the feeling? Are you a musician or an android?”

 

“Gosh, Li-sensei’s even harsher on his cousin,” remarked the viola. “Li-kun’s playing perfectly as is—I don’t find anything wrong—if anything, he’s playing better than ever before.”

 

“I bet it’s not like Li-sensei can play any better,” grumbled the first cello. “Does he even have a degree in music? I thought he’s a doctor.”

 

“From the top!” called out Leiyun, and everyone groaned.

 

The members of the orchestra were left sweaty and out of breath, as if they had run a marathon, as they finished a final run-through for the day. Even Leiyun did not berate them as he brought his baton down.

 

And Tomoyo clapped her hands together. “The orchestra sounds wonderful, Li-sensei—how did you all learn the scores in such a short time?”

 

The orchestra members coughed out loud, shuffling in their seats.

 

“What’s with this atmosphere?” remarked Tomoyo, looking around. “Why all the gloom?” She was greeted by a stony stare from the orchestra.

 

“Li-sensei’s horrid,” wailed Sakura to Tomoyo after practice. “Why, why did I think I was good enough at violin to join the orchestra for the play? Why didn’t I volunteer to be an extra or better yet, a pumpkin?”

 

“You played wonderfully,” said Tomoyo, suddenly having a vision of Sakura in a wonderful orange puffed skirt. “You’d make a wonderful pumpkin too.”

 

Miho, who had dropped by the catch a glimpse of the Goth Cinderella rehearsal, was pretty sure that in Tomoyo’s eyes, her best friend could do no wrong. “Li-sensei can’t be so bad. He’s the most laidback music teacher ever, isn’t he?”

 

And Sakura snorted rudely. “Is he, to your class? I might have to get onii-chan to give me extra violin lessons,” she remarked with a shudder. Except, her brother was not speaking to her.

 

“Right your brother is marvelous at the violin,” said Miho. “I was so impressed with his performance for your birthday celebration. Now that I think of it, Syaoran-senpai has a lot of similarities with your brother, doesn’t he? They’re both good at violin, soccer, household chores and even cooking.”

 

“That’s why they get along so well,” Tomoyo pointed out.

 

And Miho chuckled at this. “I wish our class was putting on a play too, instead of a haunted house. Though I think it’s going to be the scariest haunted house in the history of school haunted houses.”

 

Sakura had no doubt it would be, if Miho was the mastermind behind it. “How did rehearsal go today?” she asked Meilin, who looked frazzled.

 

“Not much better than last time,” replied Meilin. “I was worried Jinyu would snap and go Black Dragon on the cast today.” Furthermore, Kara, as a very disinterested stepmother, rolled her eyes during all her scenes, while Kai insisted on adlibbing to make his part flashier. Eron looked three seconds away from a temper tantrum.

 

Miho giggled. “Now that would be a performance worth seeing—the Black Dragon going berserk. I’m surprised Eron-senpai has not thrown a hissy fit yet.”

 

Erika glanced up and frowned, not sure who she should be more worried for, her twin brother or the mafia boss.

 

“How did Eron-senpai finally come around to playing Cinderella in the first place?” Miho asked Tomoyo. “He surprisingly fits the part very well.”

 

“Erika, of course,” replied Tomoyo. “She stamped her foot down and told him to stop being a sissy. But I think she really just wanted to see Eron in a dress.”

 

“I’m more interested in hearing how the Black Dragon agreed to play the Prince’s role,” remarked Kai dryly.

 

Kara, overhearing, said, “Leiyun. He was absolutely delighted to hear that Jin has been cast as the prince and insisted he play the part—I’m sure he’s personally sewing the costume by now. Lei’s excellent with the needle.”

 

“Is that why Li Leiyun decided to take on the role of conductor of the orchestra for the play?” asked Kai.

 

“I guess he didn’t want to miss a single moment of rehearsal and whatnot,” replied Kara.

 

“Which explains why you agreed to be the stepmother, after all,” Kai remarked.

 

“No, I just wanted to spend some time on stage with you of course,” said Kara. “Just kidding.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“I didn’t think rehearsals could possibly get any worse, but I think it just might have hit a new low,” groaned Aki, utterly exhausted, hungry and cranky, as the Cinderella rehearsal ended much later than expected.

 

Naoko sighed. “We should have just done a haunted house, like Class 1-2. They have it so much easier.”

 

Rika said, “I don’t know. The preparation sounds scary. I’ve heard some underclassmen say that props keep disappearing, they hear strange sounds when alone in the classroom, and they keep seeing something white flash in the hallways at nighttime when they stay after school to prep for the cultural fair.”

 

“I did hear from Ayu-chan from Class 1-2 that the other night, she turned around at nighttime and saw a pair of eyes staring back at her through the window at nighttime,” said Meilin.  

 

“Ugh, it’s so dark,” said Chiharu with a shudder, as they walked down the empty corridor. “Did all the other classes go home already?”

 

“Look at the time—it’s already past 9:00 p.m.,” said Naoko with a sigh. “I’m missing my favorite drama. And we’ve got to clean up. We have to take all the props back to the supply room because the auditorium is being used by another class tomorrow.” As the stage manager, Naoko was in charge of overseeing all the props, backdrops, and costumes.

 

Sakura said, “Naoko-chan, you can take off. I’ll put away the props in the supply room, since I planned on fetching some extra crates for Tomoyo-chan, anyway.”

 

Aki said, “I don’t know—I wouldn’t want to go into the supply room at this time of the night. Something’s fishy in there. I swear, I saw something shift behind the shelves before Tomoyo’s ladder slipped, the other day. And I don’t really believe in the supernatural.”

 

Yamazaki Takashi held a flashlight below his chin, casting a ghoulish shadow over his face. “Did you not hear? It’s one of the seven mysteries of the school. This happened many, many years ago at Seijou High. There was a boy and a girl, who were in love with each other. He asked her out, and she said yes, so they began dating each other in their second year of high school. The boy loved the girl very much, but he was always anxious, because she was so popular and beautiful, with lovely long black hair, he was never sure why she was dating him. He asked her if she loved him, and she always said she did, but he could not believe her.

 

“One day, his friend told him that the girl had been seen kissing another boy, that she had been cheating on him this whole time. He could not believe his ears, and so that evening, in this very auditorium, he confronted her. He asked if she really loved him, if she in fact hadn’t been seeing that other boy. And she didn’t respond. Because she was so hurt that he could actually doubt her. But since she did not respond, the boy grew angry and felt his fingers encircle her neck. He didn’t mean to strangle her, he really didn’t. But his fingers closed in, and he didn’t realize she wasn’t breathing until it was too late. Yet she did not let out a single sound, or a word of protest. She must have been guilty, he thought. And he realized he had corpse at hand. So he had to get rid of the body.”

 

“Hoe!” squealed Sakura, clasping both ears over with her hands. “I don’t like where this is going.”

 

Takashi continued, “There were tools in the art room. He chopped her up into pieces and hid her body parts in different parts of the school, so that she would never be found. Of course, once her parents found out that their daughter was missing, they contacted the police. But they found no lead. And he played the part of a heartbroken boyfriend very well. Months passed, and he became a senior. But late at night, when he was walking out after a science club meeting, he thought he saw his former girlfriend standing in the hallway. And as they days passed on, he began to see her more frequently, whenever he was in the school, in the restroom, in the classroom, in the auditorium, even in the storage room.”

 

“Where he hid the body parts?” Naoko asked breathlessly.

 

“Yes. So, he couldn’t sleep at night, he couldn’t eat. All he saw, whether he closed his eyes or opened them was her. Why did she have to die? He had loved her. Finally, one day, that friend who had originally told him that the girlfriend had been cheating on him confessed that the rumor had been not true. That he had been in love with her as well, and had been trying to split them apart. And then, this friend admitted that he had been seeing her ghost in the school at nighttime as well. The aggrieved boyfriend returned to the biology room at midnight. He knew he had to find her head first. But it wasn’t there. He ran to the restroom. He had to find her arms. But it wasn’t there. But then, he looked into the restroom mirror in the dark. She was there, looking straight back at him.”

 

At this Sakura and the other girls screeched.

 

“He screamed. She screamed. He smashed the mirror,” continued Takashi. “At the sound of crashing glass, the friend, who had also been searching for the ghost of the girl, came running into the restroom. And he saw the boy—or was it a girl? The boy was wearing a wig with lovely, long black hair—whose hair—and a girl’s sailor uniform—her uniform. And the boy in the girls’ uniform looked up and said, ‘I am her, and she is me.’ At that moment, the friend finally realized what had happened. The boy had killed the girl. He must have hidden her body somewhere in this school. And driven by guilt, he had been become her. From that day on, the boy also disappeared from the school. Some day that late at night, students will see the ghost of just a girl. Sometimes, they see a boy dressed as the girl. And some see the ghosts of both a body and girl.”

 

“Hoeeee!” wailed Sakura, burying her head in her hands. “I’m never going into any of those rooms again.”

 

“Did they ever find her missing body parts?” asked Rika. “And what really happened to the boy?”

 

“D-do they still appear in the nighttime?” whispered Sakura.

 

“Of course. Last year, it was late because we were preparing for the Cultural Festival and I forgot my textbook so I was going to the classroom to get it, when I saw a girl at the end of the hallway, next to the chemistry lab,” said Takashi. “She was wearing the old uniform—the sailor uniform—and had long black hair. And when I got closer—her head rolled away.”

 

Sakura covered her ears and screamed.

 

“They’re just stories!” Chiharu exclaimed, throttling Takashi half-heartedly.

 

“Well, this time they are actual school mythos though,” said Naoko. “I’ve heard of them before—I mean, not as elaborately as Yamazaki-kun described, but that legend of the murdered girlfriend’s body parts have been known for years, probably from even before our parents’ generation. I mean, no high school is complete without its seven mysteries. Of course, the next one is even worse. Let me tell you about it.”

 

“No!” exclaimed Sakura vehemently. “I-I’m going to put away the supplies now.”

 

Naoko grinned. “Well, thank you for volunteering to put away the props in the storage room. I’ll see you tomorrow! Chiharu-chan, Rika-chan, Meilin-chan let’s go.”

 

As the walked away, Rika said worriedly, “Is it okay to let Sakura-chan put away the props by herself? There’s a lot to move. And she’s very scared of ghosts.”

 

With a chuckle, Meilin replied, “Tomoyo-chan said Syaoran already volunteered to put away the props. She’ll be fine.”

 

 

 

Holding onto a box of props, Sakura walked tentatively down the black corridor, toward the back storage room. And she was sure she heard a shuffling in the room, though everybody should have left the school. No, she must be hearing things. She entered the room, and it was not her imagination. There was someone—or something in there and she screamed.

 

There was a clatter of boxes, and a male voice exclaimed, “Gah, what are you doing here?”

 

Sakura blinked. “Syaoran? What are you doing here in the dark?”

 

“I couldn’t find the light switch,” he replied with a shrug.

 

And then, they heard the door behind them click.

 

“W-what was that?” Sakura asked, teeth chattering. “It just shut by itself.”

 

Syaoran ran to the door and tried it. “It’s locked.”

 

“What do you mean?” demanded Sakura, trying the doorknob herself. It was locked from the outside. “We’re trapped in here?” she squeaked. “Is it a dark force? Or g-g-ghost?”

 

Syaoran whipped out a fire ofuda, lighting the room with an orange glow. “Rather, I think someone’s playing a prank on us.”

 

“B-but the girl who was murdered by her boyfriend,” said Sakura, unable to get the words out clearly.

 

“You mean the one who chopped her into pieces and hid her arm in here?” asked Syaoran, straight-faced. “Or was it the head?”  

 

“Hoe!” Sakura buried her face into both hands. “D-don’t say it out loud!”

 

“Anyhow, I thought something was fishy after Tomoyo’s fall, and I checked already. There is no dark force in here,” said Syaoran. “I don’t think there are any ghosts, either.”

 

“You don’t think? You’re not sure?” asked Sakura, bottom lips trembling.

 

He shrugged. “I don’t know, do feel anything? Doesn’t the sixth sense run in your family? I would think you’d be more attune with the supernatural. I mean, with a school as old as this one, I’m sure there is a ghost or two roaming about at this hour.”

 

“Syaoran!” squealed Sakura, and then she saw the twinkle in his eyes caught by the firelight. “You’re teasing, aren’t you?”

 

“Sorry. I thought you were still avoiding me,” said Syaoran. “Come, sit up here on this crate. There’s a cockroach or two roaming about.

With a little squeal, Sakura jumped onto the crate, beside Syaoran, peering at the shadow-cast floor to see if creepy crawly critters were scampering about. Besides, it was so hard to get a single moment alone with Syaoran with his sister lurking around all the time and Leiyun glowering around them at school.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Tomoyo would feel guilty eventually and come fetch us.”

 

“You think Tomoyo locked us in here?” asked Sakura. “Why?”

 

“It’s a Clow Reed type seal that’s keeping us in here, that’s why,” replied Syaoran dryly. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you. I should have done it sooner, but with my sister here, it’s been very hectic. By the way, I’m sorry about my sister putting you on the spot like that the other day. She can be a little bit…intimidating.”

 

Shaking her head, Sakura said, “It was fun hanging out with Fuutie-nee-san. Where is she tonight?”

 

“Harassing Leiyun, I believe,” replied Syaoran. “Thank goodness.”

 

Sakura said with laughter, “I think you rather enjoy having her here, don’t you?” After all, she had thought Syaoran looked rather lonesome in elementary school. Even when he pretended to be exasperated by Meilin when she had first transferred here, Sakura had thought he looked a bit dejected when his lively cousin returned to Hong Kong.

 

“Don’t even joke about it.” Then he turned serious. “Sakura, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. Sorry about the other day.” Syaoran stared down at his hands clasped in front of him.

 

“It’s okay, it was a tight squeeze sitting six people in a booth for four, but it was Tomoyo and I who were intruding upon your family dinner in Shibuya,” replied Sakura. “And the food was delicious, though I ordered the tuna, not the chicken. Actually, I’m not really sure what I ate.”

 

“I think it was liver,” said Syaoran, noting Sakura turned green. “What I mean is, I didn’t mean to discourage you from modeling that other time. Rather, you know I am supportive of you.”

 

“I know,” said Sakura with a small smile, recalling her spat with her brother. “I know you are more supportive of me than anyone else. After all, the reason I was able to step into modeling in the first place was because of you. So, you don’t have to be sorry about what you said. You were worrying about me, right?”

 

“I-I wasn’t worried or anything!” stammered Syaoran in a bashful tone someone reminiscent of elementary school days.

 

In a softer voice, Sakura said, “I was thinking about it, and the choices I make are sometimes selfish and end up hurting more people than I intend to. I didn’t tell onii-chan and otou-san that I was offered a modeling contract. I didn’t mean to keep it from them—I would have told them once I was more sure myself. But my brother got angry with me for keeping such an important issue from him. It’s not been that long since the clone incident, and I felt horrible for again keeping a secret from my brother, who has always stood by me. I never meant to keep so many secrets from him, but ever since I became Card Captor, it was always lie after lie. And one day, I wonder, if there will be a point where he will no longer forgive me.”

 

“Of course he will forgive you, this time, and next time too,” murmured Syaoran. “You are his precious younger sister.”

 

“Onii-chan had reason to get mad though,” said Sakura, swallowing a lump in her throat. “You were right. I was partially keeping the fact that I was thinking of modeling more seriously and the interview with a modeling agency a secret because I knew it would make him worry, and I didn’t want to make him worry anymore. But I also did not want him to tell me to take things slowly and think through carefully and treat me like a child. And by not telling him first, I ended up hurting onii-chan anyway.”

 

“Sometimes, lies are necessary,” said Syaoran cryptically. “Because sometimes, not telling the whole truth is the only way to protect.”

 

Syaoran, who had been caught in a web of lies so entangled that he himself probably didn’t know where the lies started and ended, had in the end lied in order to protect her, to keep her from knowing about how he had given up his powers to save her life. It was her brother, out of all people, who had told her the sacrifice Syaoran had made. Syaoran, even now, was not the type of person who would tell her everything. But no matter what, Sakura knew she would still believe in him.

 

“What I’m trying to say is, I’ve seen you in front of the camera. I know you are talented, and you will be a fantastic model,” said Syaoran. “Surely your brother knows that too. But he will worry, rightfully so as your older brother, if you don’t reassure him. And I also hope whatever choice you make that you can be in a position to make your own decisions. As the Card Mistress, there have been and will be things that are not up to you to decide, that are beyond your power. There will be people who rely on you and demand things of you. But the other part of your life, I wish at least that part is something that will be completely up to you.”

 

“Because you don’t have that, do you, Syaoran?” murmured Sakura, shoulders drooping. As Chosen One by night and Great Elder by day, he was tied down left and right. And yet, he was here, by her side, reassuring her in this musty storage room that her brother will forgive her.

 

Syaoran said suddenly, as if sensing how down she had become, “The first time I saw you with wings from your back, flying up against the night sky, you seemed so free, like a bird. It was quite a sight, seeing a 10-year-old girl with a sword in hand, feathered white wings from your back, facing off a giant bear. It’s an image I will never forget. Whatever you choose to do in the future, that’s the kind of person I would imagine you to become. Someone who will sparkle up in the night sky, even in the most ridiculous situation.”

 

“Hoe. I’m not really sure I get what kind of model that would be. But wait, you were not there that night, were you?” Sakura said. It was so long ago, the memory blurred in her head, but she was sure Syaoran had not been there the night she had tried to give her homemade teddy bear to Yukito. It had been the first time she had learned to use the Fly Card to give herself wings instead of using her magic staff to fly because she had to use the Sword Card simultaneously.

 

“I was there,” mumbled Syaoran.

 

“Oh, did you happen to be there because you wanted to see Yukito-san too?” asked Sakura. “I remember you made a bear for Yukito-san as well, when we bought the teddy bear making kit at that store.”

 

Syaoran heaved a long sigh. “How many times do I have to tell you? I didn’t make a teddy bear for Yukito-san. That’s the bear I made for you.”

 

Sakura blinked slowly. “That bear was my Syaoran-bear? You made it that long back? That was the beginning of the new semester, right after Eriol-kun transferred to Tomoeda.” But she had been pretty sure Syaoran had still liked Yukito back then. Why had he made her the teddy bear? Or was she reading to deeply into the matter? “Why didn’t you say anything that night if you had been there? And why did you pretend you didn’t know the next day? I remember, you told me to call you next time if something happened. It made be very happy when you told me that. Before, I thought you would find it a bother if I did call you.”

 

“Silly girl, why would it have been a bother?” said Syaoran with a wistful smile that she did not catch because she was staring into the flame.

 

“You know, being locked up in the storage room beats being locked up in an elevator,” remarked Sakura. “At least there is no danger of dropping.”

 

Syaoran chuckled to himself. “Yes, I think it also beats being locked up in a dungeon near Christmastime, with a madman and actual ghosts running about.”

 

At that moment, they heard rustle in the back of the room, and Sakura instinctively drew closer to Syaoran. “W-what was that?”

 

“I don’t know,” said Syaoran, putting out one arm protectively. “Stay behind.”


Something dropped down from the shelf, and Sakura threw herself into Syaoran’s chest. He didn’t pull her away or tell her there really was a dark force. Instead, he let her rest there, not exactly drawing her closer, not exactly drawing back. Her heart thumped. She couldn’t help recall that the storage room was a popular place for couples to hide out. Was this her heart thumping so loudly, because with her head against Syaoran’s chest, she was pretty sure his heart was pounding equally as loudly.

 

“Look, it was just Byakko-chan,” said Syaoran. Sakura drew back abruptly, unable to meet his eyes, and looked down at their feet and saw the white kitten rubbing his face with his paw. “Hey kitty, how did you end up getting locked in here with us?” he asked, bending down and holding out a hand. The kitten jumped into Syaoran’s arms and purred.

 

“Isn’t that Li-sensei’s kitten?” asked Sakura. “What’s he doing here?”

 

“I don’t know, cats are nocturnal creatures, so he was probably just probing around,” replied Syaoran, stroking the kitten’s back.

 

The kitten purred contently, and Sakura wished she were the kitten, curled up on his lap. He always had been good with animals, much more so than humans. And her stomach chose then to rumble loudly.

 

“Are you hungry?” asked Syaoran.

 

“Just a little,” replied Sakura, for it was way past dinner time.

 

With a frown, Syaoran glanced around. “Stand back,” he said, dropping the kitten into Sakura’s arms. Then he ran forward and kicked the metal door open with a bam.

 

Sakura exclaimed, “I thought there was a seal on the door!”

 

He looked back at her. “But you’re hungry.”

 

“You mean, we could have gotten out at any time?” asked Sakura.

 

With an exasperated look, he told her, “You’re the Card Mistress. Very little can keep you locked up in a dingy storage room.”

 

Sakura agreed, bringing the soft kitten to her cheek. Only Syaoran would be able to keep her in such a dark, dusty room with squirming rodents and ghosts of students lurking around.

 

 

 

In the classroom, Tomoyo set down her color pencils and remarked, “I wonder if we locked them up in the storage room for too long. Sakura’s scared of ghosts, and I’m pretty sure that storage room is haunted.”

 

Eriol, looking up from his book, replied, “They’ll be out when they’ve finished talking, I’m sure.”

 

“Do you think they’re talking?” asked Tomoyo with a frown. “You don’t plan on locking them in there all night? It’s pretty dusty and disgusting in there.”

 

“If it takes them all night to sort things out, I’m open to keeping them in there all night,” replied Eriol with a thin smile. “Wasn’t this your idea in the first place, Tomoyo-san?”

 

“It worked so well when you locked them up in the elevator back in elementary school,” remarked Tomoyo. “Syaoran even started calling Sakura by her first name. But in retrospective, that was pretty wicked of you.”

 

“I only had good intentions in my heart,” said Eriol with a smile.

 

“I don’t doubt that, which is what worries me,” said Tomoyo.

 

“Oh, Syaoran broke the seal,” remarked Eriol. “They’re coming this way. Should we feign innocence? Though I guess it was too obvious, so maybe we should just hide.”

 

Tomoyo didn’t ponder for a second and replied, “Let’s run for it.” Eriol quickly helped gathered her sketchbooks, and they dashed out the door, turning off the lights, to the back stairwell. He offered her his hand.

 

“I’m okay,” said Tomoyo.

 

“You’re leg is not still completely healed, and it’s dark. We can’t have our director trip down the stairs,” he said. Tomoyo, with flushed cheeks, took his hand.

 

 

 

Syaoran swung their homeroom classroom door open and found it empty. “I was pretty sure I sensed them here,” he grumbled.

 

“Well, I’m sure they’ve escaped by now,” Sakura pointed out. “We should get back home too.”

 

“It’s late,” said Syaoran curtly. “I’ll walk you home.”

 

“Can we drop by a convenience store and grab a bite to eat then?” asked Sakura shyly.

 

“I’m sure the burger joint is still open,” said Syaoran. “Or that new family restaurant? How about we make that sneaky pair treat us dinner. No wait, I don’t want to see that creep’s face.”

 

Sakura nearly dropped Byakko when a melodic voice behind them asked, “Who, Eriol and Tomoyo?”

 

Syaoran looked up at the older man. “Leiyun, aren’t you supposed to be with my sister? What are you doing here?”

 

“It’s my vacation, yet he’s making me work,” groaned Fuutie from behind. “And what are you two doing here at this unscrupulous hour?”

 

Syaoran replied, “We were cleaning up after rehearsal.”

 

“Good, I was just finishing up with the orchestra arrangements for the Cinderella finale. And Fuutie’s been giving me feedback,” said Leiyun. “Syaoran, you play me the violin parts, so I can hear how it sounds. Come to the music room.”

 

“Now?” groaned Syaoran. “Play it yourself. You play the violin.”

 

Leiyun glanced down at the kitten in Sakura’s arms and proceeded to scoop Byakko away. “There you were, Byakko-chan. I was looking all over for you, naughty little kitty.” But the kitten purred and then jumped from Leiyun’s arms, scrambling down the dark corridors.

 

“Must’ve heard a mouse,” said Leiyun with a shrug. To Sakura, he asked, “Are you still here?”

 

Sakura had been looking forward to having dinner with Syaoran said quietly, “Well, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, Syaoran, Fuutie-nee-san.”

 

“You forgot to say goodbye to me, Sakura,” said Leiyun, pronouncing her name by each syllable.

 

Stiltedly, Sakura said, “Goodbye Li-sensei.” And she shot off in the other direction, though it was a longer route toward the stairwell. 

 

“Don’t tease the poor girl,” said Fuutie with a sigh. “I forgot how much of a bully you can be.”

 

“Does this merely look like teasing to you?” asked Leiyun with a thin smile.

 

Stomping down the hallway, Sakura felt her ears burning, as she thought of Leiyun’s mocking smile, demanding she say goodbye to him. “Goodbye and good riddance, Li Leiyun.” How could such an arrogant and despicable man be her teacher? And worst of all, Syaoran adored Leiyun, despite the torture his cousin had put him through last year.

 

She was pretty sure she knew every corner of the school by now, but she realized, she wasn’t quite sure which wing she was at in this pitch blackness. And out of the corner of her eyes, she thought she was something white glimmer past. Cold sweat covered her skin, and turning around very slowly, she asked, “Byakko-chan?” There was nothing there. Yet, she felt she was being watched. She inched back toward the wall, breaking out in cold sweat. Then, she could see it, a white ghoulish four-legged creature staring at her with gleaming red eyes. She let out a piercing scream and began running down the endless corridor, pretty sure that the thing was following her.

 

She was thankful when the familiar face of her beloved Tomoyo appeared from around the corner. “Sakura-chan! I thought I heard your voice. What happened?” asked Tomoyo, amethyst eyes widened in alarm. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any harm.”

 

Eriol, glancing around, asked, “Is it a dark force?”

 

“But I don’t sense anything,” said Syaoran, sword drawn, scanning the corridor. Behind him, Leiyun, Fuutie, Erika, Jinyu and Kara followed. And from another hallway, Meilin and Kai joined them.

 

“What’s going on?” asked Meilin, glancing between Leiyun and Syaoran.

 

“I-it was there!” said Sakura, afraid to turn around.

Kara said dryly, “There’s nothing there.”

 

Leiyun laughed. “What should we do about a Card Mistress that is scared of her own shadow?”

 

“Come, let’s all just go home for the night,” said Tomoyo. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have locked you in the storage room.”

 

“You did?” asked Leiyun gleefully. “The one with the dead girl’s head?”

 

“No, the arm.” Tomoyo added quickly as Sakura’s eyes bulged, “I mean, that’s just a school legend, of course.”

 

“Miho did say that she saw some white creature roaming the corridors when she stayed late working on the haunted house the other day,” remarked Eriol.

 

Fuutie whispered finally, “I saw it too.”

 

“What?” Syaoran glanced up in the direction that Fuutie was pointing.

 

“A white tiger. A white tiger was standing there,” said Fuutie, sinking to her knees.

 

“Is that what you saw?” asked Eriol.

 

Sakura nodded.

 

“Go check it out, Kara,” said Leiyun with a frown. “Fuutie, are you okay?”

 

Fuutie nodded, but Syaoran frowned, glancing down the empty hallway. His sister was not the type to be fazed by ghosts or ghouls or nighttime monsters.

 

“Jinyu, give her a hand. Let’s call it a night,” said Leiyun briskly.

 

When Jinyu bent down to help Fuutie up, she abruptly slapped away his hand. “Don’t touch me!”

 

“What wrong, Fuutie?” asked Leiyun. “It’s all right. It’s not a ghost, I can ascertain. And if it’s a dark force, I’m sure Syaoran and perhaps the Card Mistress will take care of it. Let’s go.”

 

“It’s him,” whispered Fuutie. “It’s him. You saw him too.”

 

Leiyun bent down next to his cousin and looked her straight in the eye. “It can’t be him. He’s already dead. He died over two years ago.”

 

“But you saw the White Tiger too. Say you saw him too, Leiyun!” said Fuutie, grabbing hold of Leiyun’s shirt.

 

“I saw it too,” said Leiyun. “But it’s not him.”

 

“Then it’s his ghost,” said Fuutie.

 

Leiyun said quietly, “Why would his ghost be here? In Japan. In this school.”

 

And Fuutie looked over Leiyun’s shoulders, toward Jinyu. “Because he’s here. Because he killed Zino.”  

 

And Sakura suddenly understood it was about Fuutie’s lost love, Wu Zino, the Gold Dragon, head of the Hong Kong triads.

 

Kara, who had circled the floor, walked back to the group and glanced at Fuutie on the floor with Leiyun hiding her face from the others. “There was nothing there. Maybe it really was a ghost. Erika, do you sense anything?”

 

“Nope,” replied Erika. “It’s certainly not a dark force to my knowledge.”  

 

“See, Fuutie, it was nothing,” said Leiyun. “Come, let’s get dinner.”

 

Tomoyo watched Leiyun help Fuutie up, and Syaoran’s sister already had brushed away her tears and was calm again. “Sorry about that. It must be my nerves—I haven’t slept well since I’m not used to Syaoran’s bed. Lei, I want to eat sukiyaki. Jingmei texted she’s finished with her shift too. Let’s go see her.”

 

“I leave the rest to you, Syaoran,” said Leiyun, their eyes meeting in a moment of unspoken communication. And he and Fuutie walked out the school, followed by Erika and Kara. Jinyu did not join them.   

 

Sakura tentatively put her hands on Syaoran’s sleeve, unsure what to say to him. He glanced at her and smiled slightly, for he knew she was trying to reassure him, as if sensing he had been unsettled. It was rare to see Fuutie lose her cool.

 

“So wait, what does seeing a white tiger mean?” asked Tomoyo.

 

“She probably means Wu Zino,” replied Meilin.

 

“I thought he was known as the Gold Dragon,” said Sakura.

 

“Well, that’s the name he received upon becoming the head of the Hong Kong triads,” said Meilin. “Kind of like a title, like Jinyu has been called the Black Dragon. But the White Tiger has also been associated with the Wu Clan, or so I heard.”

 

“But how does this tiger that we saw link to Wu Zino?” asked Tomoyo.

 

“I’m not sure,” said Sakura, turning to Syaoran. “Do you think there is some connection?”

 

“Who knows,” replied Syaoran. “The question is, if that wasn’t a ghost or a dark force, what was that?”

 

Kai remarked with a shrug, “Perhaps it really was a tiger.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Part II: Intermission

 

 

 

It was the first time Seijou High School Classes 2-2 and 3-2 had the auditorium for themselves for the entire afternoon to rehearse the ill-named Goth Cinderella play, and Kinomoto Sakura knew it was a disaster waiting to happen. The orchestra, headed by the devilish Li Leiyun, had been practicing separately and was to accompany the rehearsal for the first time. Sakura was gripping her violin neck so tightly that Syaoran watched anxiously whether she would snap it in two.

 

Yet Director Tomoyo, her annotated script in hand, seemed determined to make the play work, even though a woe begotten Cinder-Eron was sulking in the corner, hugging a broom, like the world was coming to an end, and Dark Prince Jinyu stared off into space, holding a prop cardboard sword, emanating an aura of doom.

 

At least Erika was a cheery enough stepsister, kicking her brother back up on his feet. She then walked up to Jinyu, explaining to him extra succinctly, “Today’s a dress rehearsal. Obviously, we don’t have the costumes ready yet, but we have a great deal of props, and this is the first time we’re going to rehearse on the real stage. You have to pay attention to the entrances and exits, as well as the cues from the demon director, Tomoyo. You know, the annoying girl who always carries around a camcorder. She’s recording everything and will make us watch it to review our mistakes, so you better do a good job or else she’ll use the clip the blackmail and humiliate you till the end of time.”

 

Tomoyo nearly smiled at this nearly empty threat from Erika, then glanced back worriedly at Sakura and Syaoran in the orchestra pit, as Leiyun barked out instructions at them. While Tomoyo had watched over several orchestra practices, this was the first time they were directly working together, and she didn’t know how well she would actually be able to collaborate with Leiyun, since communication between director and conductor was essential for the flow of the play. When she had asked him to take on the role of conductor, she had never expected him to take on the role so seriously, and he was not cutting anyone, including his cousin, any slack. And Eriol, who had seemed to be content taking the back seat after writing the Cinderella script had suddenly volunteered as the pianist.

 

Sakura leaned over and whispered to Syaoran, “When did Eriol-kun join the orchestra?”

 

“The pianist cut her hand on a glass beaker when her chemistry experiment exploded,” replied Syaoran.

 

“I have a horrible feeling about this rehearsal,” murmured Sakura under her breath.

 

“At least Fuutie’s away at the onsen today with Jingmei to take a breather,” said Syaoran.

 

“At least anyone who wants to create mischief will have a hard time since they’re all here in plain view,” she added.

 

“And at least we’re not the ones on stage,” Syaoran pointed out. The two of them met eyes and couldn’t help laugh out loud harder than intended out of pure relief.

 

And first cello told them sourly, “What is there to be merry about? Li-sensei will have my head for sure today if I miss a note.”

 

“But I think he really likes you,” remarked Syaoran, rather considerately.

 

First cello looked thoroughly appalled at this suggestion.

 

Leiyun said, “I expect all of you have memorized the score for the first act, like I assigned last time. Remember, eyes on me—unlike our practices on our own, we will need to keep up with the pace of the play. Your role is to follow me and to concentrate.”

 

“I’m doomed,” mumbled Sakura morosely. “I didn’t have any time to practice.”

 

And Sakura really did her best to try to keep up with the score, but unlike previous practices, where Leiyun would stop them and make them redo measures when they messed up, they had to go along with the pace of the actors—and the tempo was completely different from their practices because things were not going quite smoothly on stage either. She could feel Leiyun’s icy blue eyes narrow on her. Her bow skid over the neck of the violin, making an embarrassing screech, and her ears turned a bright red, and she lost track of where they were playing. She scanned the score, having no idea what measure they were up to. As she fumbled, she braced for the scathing words Leiyun would have for her after practice.

 

But then, Syaoran made a surprising mistake, missing a major chord. He was playing much sloppier than usual, and Leiyun was scowling now. Sakura supposed he was having an off-day too, but as the glaring mistakes continued, the other orchestra members glanced at each other quizzically, for this was quite unlike Syaoran, especially that last jarring ping.

 

Finally, Leiyun, whether or not the Eron was in the middle of his heartfelt soliloquy or not, set his baton down and barked, “Concertmaster! What’s going on? You think this is a joke?”

 

Syaoran stared up at his older cousin brazenly. “Sorry. My bow slipped.”

 

“The first violin sets the tempo for the entire orchestra! If you can’t hold a bow straight or match the pace, then quit!” declared Leiyun, and the other orchestra members tittered, delighted that it was the perfect Syaoran being scolded in front of all their classmates, not themselves.

 

Tomoyo finally intervened. “Li-sensei, the orchestra sounds fine to me, and this is our first time doing a full run-through, so we can work on things as we go along.”

 

“Sorry for the unsightly interruption, director,” said Leiyun, hand on chest, bowing his head slightly. “Their incompetence is a reflection of my own inadequacy. We shall continue.”

 

Sakura sighed in relief, finally having found where they were in the score, and positioned her fingers on the strings. And Syaoran seemed to have recovered as well, and played smoothly for the remainder of the act.  

 

It was amusing for Leiyun to see the usually cool and composed Tomoyo looking quite anxious over this rehearsal. Perhaps she should admit to herself that she had taken on more than she had anticipated by placing every single troublemaker imaginable together in one room. He had to admit, Tomoyo and Eriol had come up with a clever ploy. With Eriol in the orchestra pit, watching over Sakura and Syaoran, and Tomoyo on stage, narrating, they had complete control over the play. Erika, Kara, and Jinyu, along with Eron, were all key characters leaving not a single moment where one of them was not on stage. As the conductor, Leiyun himself was tied down throughout the duration of the play. But Sakura’s friends were cast in roles that allowed easy mobility, including Kai as fairy godmother and Meilin as a stepsister.

 

“Even if I wanted to create mischief, I wouldn’t be able to,” he murmured to himself. “But mischief will happen nonetheless when this many troublemakers are grouped together.”

 

Despite Leiyun’s brief outburst at Syaoran, Tomoyo thought this rehearsal was going along slightly better than before, though just barely. Eron seemed to be able to do fine in his scenes alone. It was the scenes with Jinyu that were a problem.

 

Jinyu missed his first and second cue. It wasn’t until Erika marched backstage to fetch him that he appeared for his debut scene in the play. And then Jinyu stood staring blankly at the glaring spotlight, even though he was holding his script in hand.

 

Finally Erika, from the sidelines, whispered out his first lines, and Jinyu repeated after her stiltedly, as if remembering he had to speak. The other students groaned.

 

“Eron-kun already has all his lines memorized, and he has the most lines out of all of us,” said Naoko. “But Jinyu-senpai can’t even remember his first line.”

 

“We should just recast,” muttered Aki. “I’d make a much better prince.”

 

“I think even Takashi will make a better prince than him,” said Chiharu. “Poor Tomoyo-chan—what in the world was she thinking casting the foreboding Li Jinyu-senpai. I always did think she was a little out of her mind.”

 

“There must be a reason,” pointed out Takashi. “Or perhaps, she just likes his looks. She likes the tall, dark, solitary, brooding types.”

 

“Someone like Li-sensei would make the perfect fairytale prince,” said Naoko.

 

“More like the two-faced villain that tries to splinter the main couple,” Takashi pointed out.

 

“What a horrible thing to say!” exclaimed Naoko.

 

It was Rika who looked around and first asked, “What is this smell?”

 

While it took longer for those off the stage to smell the smoke, Sakura realized that it smelled like burning wood. “Don’t you smell something burning?”

 

“Sakura, is that you squeaking again?” snapped Leiyun.

 

“I smell it too,” said Syaoran, setting down his violin and standing up.

 

And Naoko, the backstage manager, came running out screaming, “Fire! Fire! Everyone, get out!”

 

There was immediate panic amongst the students, who clambered toward the exits. Leiyun called out, “Everyone, leave the auditorium immediately and file in a straight line outside!”

 

“The exits are locked!” exclaimed Tachibana Rei, trying one door. Someone else ran over to another exit and called out, “This one too!”

 

With a frown, Leiyun tried the nearest exit.

 

“We’re trapped in here!” exclaimed Naoko, as the smell smoke thickened.

 

Aki said, “It’s the ghost of the auditorium! The second school mystery—the girl who was burned in the auditorium by her jealous classmate and buried beneath the stage.”

 

“Nonsense,” said Leiyun.

 

“Why aren’t the sprinklers activating?” asked Rika. “And the fire alarms aren’t going off.”

 

“Everybody, calm down and exit without pushing,” said Leiyun, covering his mouth with a handkerchief. “Kara, go check backstage if everybody’s out. Syaoran, come here and knock down the door.”

 

Syaoran nodded and ran up to the main exit, flinging out a side kick, blasting open the door. The students clambered to rush outside, and Leiyun called out, “Line up outside and check if all your classmates are out—Naoko, you’re stage manager so you know everybody, right? Do a roll call when you get out.”

 

“What about you, Li-sensei?” asked Naoko.

 

“I’m going to check if nobody’s left behind, and I’ll be out shortly,” said Leiyun.

 

Kara called out to Leiyun, “I think Jinyu and Erika are trapped backstage. And the fire’s spreading.”

 

Leiyun took off his sweater and handed it to her. “Cover your mouth and get out.”

 

Syaoran turned to Kara, “Where’s the source of the fire?” 

 

“I don’t know—it started backstage, near the changing room,” replied Kara.

 

“I’ll use the Watery right away,” said Sakura with a frown, releasing her star staff.

 

“Don’t!” exclaimed Leiyun, grabbing her arm.

 

“Why? Watery can put out the fire instantly,” said Sakura, holding up the Sakura Card.

 

“It’s not a regular fire,” replied Leiyun. “I think a Sakura Card will only fuel it. It will feed off your power and burn fiercer.”

 

She should have known that, but she didn’t and almost made the fire spread quicker. Furious at herself for making another mistake in front of Leiyun, Sakura rushed backstage, where the smoke was thick, to the point where her eyes almost stung. “Erika-chan! Jinyu-san! Where are you?”

 

“Idiot, don’t go back there all on your own!” exclaimed Syaoran, running to her side.

 

It occurred to Sakura she hadn’t spotted Eron in the group of students that had exited the auditorium. “Where’s Eron-kun?” She saw the flames now that were spreading at an immense speed across the backstage. It couldn’t reach the curtains—that would take down the whole stage. “Eron!” she called out. The heat scorched her skin, and she spotted Eron, banging against the changing room door.

 

“They’re in here,” said Eron.

 

“Eron, stand back, I’ll do it!” Syaoran said, sword in hand.

 

“Erika! Erika!” Eron exclaimed frantically, pounding the wooden door. “Erika, she won’t be able to withstand the smoke. Her heart…”

 

Sakura held back Eron as Syaoran slashed the wooden door open and found Jinyu holding onto a limp Erika. “She lost consciousness,” he said. “Get her out of here, quickly.”

 

Nodding, Syaoran carried Erika on his back and rushed out of the auditorium, through the growing flames.

 

Jinyu, covered his nose with his forearm, hurried back further backstage.


“Where are you going?” demanded Eron.

 

“The cat is still back there,” said Jinyu.

 

“Who cares about a stupid cat? Come out!” exclaimed Eron.

 

Sakura said, “I’ll look with you.” She was afraid to use her Sakura Cards because of what Leiyun had told her. But she also knew that she could last longer in the flames than could Jinyu, and she could also figure out the source of the fire and end it. It was magical, she was sure, but was it a dark force?

 

“It’s a demon fire,” said Kai, who jumped down from the beams above with flourish.

 

“A demon fire?” asked Sakura.

 

“Yes, an evil spirit, a yokai, can cause an unnatural fire. Perhaps for vengeance, perhaps for mischief. Perhaps on command by a stronger master,” remarked Kai.

 

“Who has the power to summon or control yokai?” asked Sakura.


“The more important question right now has the power to exorcise it,” said Eron.

 

“Mizuki-sensei!” exclaimed Sakura. “She was trained as a Shinto priestess, after all.”

 

She heard a quiet changing and Shinto ward papers flew around her.

 

“Mizuki-sensei!” exclaimed Sakura.

 

Kaho and Miho stood side by side.

 

For a moment, Miho stared at the spreading flames, frozen. Kai grabbed his younger sister by the arm and turned her around to face him. “What did you come here for?”

 

“But I heard there was some sort of dark force,” said Miho, frozen in the spot.

 

The fire ceased abruptly as Kaho murmured a final chant and only wisps of smoke remained. Jinyu came out with the purring kitten in his arms.

 

“Byakko-chan!” Tomoyo said, glancing up at the soot-covered Black Dragon, starkly contrasting with the snow white kitten.

 

“Oh no, the backstage paintings and most of the props are ruined,” exclaimed Meilin.

 

“I don’t think that’s the main problem—the whole back stage is wrecked and half the front stage is singed,” said Kai dryly. “We won’t be able to put on any performance over here.”

 

“The other classes will be devastated—we have a lot of performances scheduled in the auditorium for the cultural festival,” stated Miho. “Well, while we’re at it, should we check for the dead body underneath the stage?”

 

Sakura glanced around and said quietly, “Can’t I just fix up the backstage and main stage a little bit? Nobody else knows how bad the fire really was.”

 

Erika, who had regained her consciousness and seemed fine, albeit a bit lightheaded, exclaimed, “Are you guys worrying over the stupid stage when I nearly lost my life there in the fire?”

 

“Jinyu too,” pointed out Eron.

 

“And you dare call me and the others the ‘troublemakers?’” stated Erika, pointing at Tomoyo. “I think one of you guys was deliberately trying to kill me and Jinyu.”

 

“That’s ridiculous,” said Meilin.

 

“Then how come it was only me and Jinyu trapped backstage?” demanded Erika. “And all of you guys were safe and sound outside?”

 

“I don’t know!” exclaimed Miho. “Maybe you guys caused the fire yourselves and are pretending to be the victims to catch us off guard.”

 

“You, don’t you have fire magic? You’re the one who burned down the house you grew up in,” declared Erika. “Maybe you’re the one who caused the fire!”

 

“Maybe someone’s trying to sabotage the play,” Meilin interjected, glancing over at Miho and seeing her bottom lips tremble at the unpleasant memory.

 

Erika shot back, “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. It’s probably Tomoyo and Eriol themselves, coming up with this mess of a play, forcing us to be a part of it, and having the last laugh.”

 

“Don’t bring Tomoyo into this—think how devastated she must be over her stage being ruined,” said Meilin.

 

“I think she got so annoyed with how bad Jinyu is as the Prince that she planned to get rid of him,” declared Erika.

 

Gasping, Meilin stared up at the Black Dragon and then back at Erika, and declared, “You said that, I didn’t!”

 

“What, he’s horrible!” exclaimed Erika, both hands in the air. “If Tomoyo didn’t set the stage on fire, I would probably have done it myself.”

 

“See, you said with your own lips you’d like to set fire on the stage! You’re the culprit!” said Miho.

 

“And you call yourself an acute journalist? Where’s your logical sense? I actually like this stinking play! I like the script, I like the music, I like the costume designs. I want it to do well, despite all of you guys’ twisted ploys to mess it all up,” said Erika. And she spun around and glared at Sakura who was tiptoeing around the stage like a busy squirrel. “What in the world do you think you’re doing?”

 

Sakura, staff in the air with the Woody, Forge, and the Metal cards caught between her forefinger and middle finger, squeaked, “I thought I would just fix up the stage a little bit while you guys were… having a discussion? Go on.”

 

“Sakura-senpai, you’re the Card Mistress. Don’t you care who the culprit is?” Miho demanded. “It’s clearly Erika again, and she’s acting like the victim. Or it’s her twin brother.”

 

“Eron would not hurt Erika,” Sakura pointed out, closing one eyes and holding out her staff to eyeball the dimensions of the stage. She had fixed a dented Tokyo Tower before, this was simple. 

 

“Then they’re in it together,” retorted Miho.

 

“Thank goodness the costumes were not brought over here,” remarked Syaoran, coming out of the backstage area. “There’s nothing we can do about the burnt pumpkin carriage and props left behind by the last production, but props and backdrops can be rebuilt easily.”

 

“Where did you come from?” asked Meilin, glancing around.

 

“We’re finished restoring the backstage,” said Syaoran, ward papers in hand. “But I singed the wood a little bit to make it look like there was a little fire so the others wouldn’t become too suspicious. The front stage looks good.”

 

“It’s much more stable than it was before—the wood was rotting, which was why it burned so fast,” said Sakura. She glanced up at the ceiling at the beams. “I made sure to reinforce the nuts and bolts up there too.”

 

“Good. No crashing chandeliers,” remarked Syaoran.

 

Kara blinked. “What’s wrong with them? What are they talking about?”

 

Tomoyo replied, “They’ve done this too many times. For them, it’s not a matter of whodunit but ‘the show must go on.’”

 

After examining her reconstruction handiwork, Sakura said, “You know what I think, Syaoran?”

 

“Yeah, there definitely is a dark force out there,” he replied.

 

“Or two,” said Sakura. “Do you think we can lure it out, even though we’re not sure what it is yet?”

 

“We can try,” said Syaoran.

 

“Tomorrow night?”

 

“Yeah, in the forest behind King Penguin Park. I’ll try locating it with my Rasinban.”

 

“Let’s just keep this low key?”

 

“Definitely,” replied Syaoran.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

As if Syaoran thought his week could get any worse, Fuutie, who was thankfully back to her usual self, announced when he and Meilin got back home from school, “I just got a text message from Shiefa—she’s arrived at the airport.”

 

“What?” exclaimed Syaoran, feeling his knees wobble. “What’s she doing in Japan?”

 

“She’s here with rest of the business delegation,” said Fuutie, who was glowing from a day at the spa. “You know I came a week early because I missed you so much.”

 

Syaoran groaned. How had he not realized Shiefa would also be a part of the business delegation—especially since the Li Group was looking to expand in the electronics sector in Japan. It was hard enough dealing with one of his sisters, let alone two, and Shiefa was a lot more impatient than Fuutie.

 

Fuutie looked around the apartment. “You know, unfortunately I don’t think Shiefa’s going to fit here. I’m very sad to have to tell you that I’ll also move into Leiyun’s place for the rest of my stay to be with Shiefa. Frankly, the bathroom situation here was getting annoying, and I miss Wei’s cooking.” She looked up expectantly at her younger brother, who seemed truly grief-stricken at the news of her departure. “Don’t worry, we’ll be visiting often.”

 

Meilin mouthed to Syaoran, who was struggling to contain a wide smile, “Thank goodness.”

 

“Well, why don’t I help you get packed?” asked Syaoran extra helpfully.

 

“Yes, do pack up my trunks. And give Wei a call to pick us up.”

 

“Us?”

 

“Yes, us. Shiefa of course will expect you to be waiting when she and the business delegation arrives,” replied Fuutie.

 

 

 

Leiyun paled slightly when he saw Syaoran heave large leather trunks into the Li Mansion in the outskirts of Tomoeda. He waved his hand over the luggage and asked, “What’s all this?”

 

“She’ll be staying here for the rest of the visit,” said Syaoran extra cordially as his older sister followed in after him.

 

And Leiyun’s eyes rounded. “Oh no, dearest cousin Fuutie. I wouldn’t dream of having you or Shiefa staying in this dusty old Meiji-era house. I’ll go ahead and book a suite room at the five-star Hoshi Plaza Hotel, where the rest of the business delegation will be staying.”

 

“It’s all right, this is fine,” replied Fuutie sunnily. “After staying in Syaoran’s rat hole of an apartment for a week, this should be perfectly suitable.”

 

“I am afraid, the water pipes here are antiquated so we don’t get all that much hot water, and the floors creak. And we cohabitate with spiders, snakes, and rodents because Kara has an affinity for such creepy creatures.”

 

Fuutie smiled up at him. “Why, I would almost think that you do not want me here, dearest cousin Leiyun.”

 

And Leiyun smiled back equally as sweetly. “Of course that wouldn’t be the case. I was merely concerned for my favorite cousin’s well-being.”

 

“I thought your favorite cousin was Syaoran,” muttered Kara under her breath.

 

“No, it’s actually Jinyu—he’s the only one that doesn’t talk back,” Leiyun whispered back.

 

The front door swung open without the doorbell ringing, and a tall woman with short auburn hair cropped short in the front, gathered in a long tail in the back, dashed into the hallway. “Syaoran! Is that you?”

 

She squeezed her younger brother into a choking hug. “It’s been so long.”

 

“Actually, it really hasn’t been,” muttered Syaoran as his second oldest sister smothered him.

 

Shiefa, dropping Syaoran abruptly, exclaimed, “Cousin Leiyun! How delightful to see you here in Japan, finally.” She then turned to her older sister. “So, how is it? How is Japanese life? Were you having so much fun that you couldn’t even return my calls? Isn’t this such a quaint little village in the countryside? I can’t believe it took us so long to visit.”

 

“This is suburban, not the countryside,” mumbled Erika from the stairwell. The Li sisters couldn’t be serious about staying here, could they? 

 

“Well, Mother did mention that if we were to come when Syaoran was capturing the Clow Cards, we would be a distraction,” Fuutie pointed out. “Too much moon power could create unbalance with the Clow Cards on the loose.”

 

Shiefa sighed. “Totally unfair that Meilin got to go instead and have all the fun.”

 

Meilin snickered. “First time in my life not having powers was useful.”

 

“Oh, is that why they let you come?” Syaoran asked.

 

Rolling her eyes, Meilin questioned, “Why else did you think I was allowed to go to Japan?”

 

“I don’t know,” said Syaoran with a shrug. He never had given it much thought.

 

“What a heartwarming reunion. Makes us almost look like a functioning, close-knit family that we are not,” said a deep, acerbic voice from behind the female chatter.

 

Syaoran stared up at a man in a crisp navy suit with glasses and jet-black hair that stepped into the hallway. He asked disdainfully, “Leiyun, what is this I hear about you being some substitute teacher at a rural Japanese high school? I swear, your talents are rotting here. When will you return back home?”

 

“Oh my gosh, it’s Dairen,” groaned Meilin under her breath.

 

“Did you have a good flight, Dairen? It wasn’t a bad drive from the airport, right?” Leiyun asked. 

 

“The rush hour traffic was horrible.” Li Dairen gave his cousin a clap on the back. “Well, you look like you’ve been doing well, Lei.”

 

Syaoran had never been close to Dairen, who was 25, and was perhaps the most calculating but grounded of the bunch. Dairen was the second oldest son of Li Daifu, the CEO of the Li Group. He was especially known amongst the cousins for his poisonous tongue and short-temperedness. As he had always been top of his class, he had little patience for stupidity or laziness. Back in the days, Dairen had been considered to be closest to Leiyun. They had often been pitted against each other, because they were similar in age, talented, and the sons of the Head of the Li Clan and the CEO of the Li Group. Yet, rather than being caught up in a bitter rivalry, they had paired up and become quite an invincible duo. While Leiyun had been immensely popular, there was nobody who really got him. But Dairen seemed to get Leiyun. Probably because he was a little twisted as well.

 

“Why is he here?” muttered Meilin, shrinking away. “I thought he’s staying at the hotel.”

 

Syaoran knew Meilin had never been fond of Dairen—not that he blamed her. Dairen and his father Daifu were both elitists to the extreme—they gave no time of the day to any of the powerless Li members or were not of any use to them. While Uncle Daifu and his son entered the world of finance, that didn’t make them any less accomplished warriors and magician who were core members of the Inner Council of the Li Clan. Li Daifu had often been considered the puppet-master who pulled the strings on the important decisions of the Clan, for after all, he was the one who managed the family’s assets. He not only controlled the Li Clan Treasury but also was a well-respected businessman in Hong Kong and internationally. And Dairen, a successful entrepreneur in his own right, was equally brilliant in finance and was considered the frontrunner to becoming the next CEO of the Li Group to succeed his father.

 

Some Lis quietly grumbled how the distribution of talent was extremely unfair in the Li head family. Wutai had paled in comparison to his younger brothers—it was only because he was the oldest that he ended up becoming the head of the Li Clan. And that was only possible because Daifu let him. Wutai and Daifu always had fierce rivalry all their lives, but when their youngest brother Leiyun became Chosen One and apparently most likely candidate to succeed the Great Elder, the oldest two teamed up. And Ganliu, the third oldest brother and director of the Li Hospital, Jingmei’s father, generally always backed Daifu who was considered the second most powerful person in the Li Clan, next to the Great Elder.

 

Which brother was it that had sent his father on a death mission? Or did all three collaborate together? It was a thought Syaoran tried not to dwell upon. His mother was a firm believer of letting bygones be bygones. And Syaoran tried to put it behind as well but he had never warmed up to any of his uncles. But Dairen was different from his father. It had been rumored that he had a falling out with Daifu some years ago, after Leiyun supposedly died. In defiance of his father, Dairen went to study abroad for years and only returned back to Hong Kong last year. The only reason he had not been disowned was because he was so brilliant and had a strong network with the up and rising Hong Kong entrepreneurs and businessmen, as well as connections with the United States because he went to college and received his MBA there.

 

There was a shrill female squeal. “Shiefa! You came!” A bespectacled woman came down the stairwell. In a flatter tone, she added, “Oh, and Dairen too.”

 

“Jingmei!” exclaimed Shiefa. The two women clasped hands and jumped up and down—they were very close, despite having very opposite interests and personalities. “I thought you’d be at the hospital.”

 

“Nope, I had a long surgery in the morning and got off early,” said Jingmei. “All of you guys are moving in?”

 

“No, I’m heading to the hotel soon,” said Dairen. His gaze settled upon Erika who was watching from the stairwell for a second, then flickered over to Kara, who was leaned against the second-floor railings. “What an interesting gathering of riffraff we have here. What are you doing, running a charity or something, Lei?”


“Dairen, be nice,” murmured Fuutie. Even amongst the cousins, Dairen was known for his acerbic tongue.

 

Dairen pushed his glasses up his sharp nose. “Well, when do I get to see the famed Card Mistress, Syaoran, or should I say, Great Elder? Are you going to introduce her to us, finally?”

 

Syaoran paled at the thought of Dairen sizing up Sakura in scrutiny, but it was thankfully Fuutie who interjected, “We’ve all met Sakura. She’s a regular high school student in all aspects. Unless, your interest runs that way, I think you have a busy enough schedule in Tokyo, meeting with potential investors and the Li Group Japan Branch executives until the board of trustees meeting.”

 

“True, my schedule is packed until the board meeting,” said Dairen. “Syaoran, I trust you are preparing for you presentation. In business, first impressions matter so I expect you won’t mess up and embarrass our delegation. A lot is expected from the new Great Elder of the Li Clan—Great Uncle Renshu was once a very respected and admired man in the Hong Kong elite circle, long before he ever became the Great Elder, and you have a big hole to fill. Remember, you are now the face of the Li Clan.”

 

“Easy now, Dairen, Syaoran still has plenty of time to gain experience,” said Leiyun softly.

 

Dairen replied, “You’ve always been too lax on the boy. He should be getting a proper education in Hong Kong and learning the ropes of the Li Clan Council from scratch under the direct supervision of the Elders. I still don’t know what Great Uncle Renshu was thinking naming him the next Great Elder—it’s unheard of to have a teenager in that position. I guess Great Uncle Renshu had slim pickings with Uncle Ryuuren’s death and you missing, but Syaoran’s just wasting his time in Japan.”

 

Meilin finally burst out, “Syaoran has not been wasting his time here! What do you know about fighting the dark forces and all we’ve been through here, not only with gathering the Clow Cards but battling against the Dark Ones and defending this town, defending the honor of our ancestors? He works harder than anyone else, so don’t you dare make judgment about him, when you don’t even know!”

 

For the first time, Dairen turned to Meilin and blinked slowly. “And you are?”

 

Fuutie hissed, “Our cousin Meilin. You know, the one who trained with Syaoran under Great Elder Renshu.”

 

Dairen shrugged. “Oh, the one who thought she was engaged to Syaoran, right?” He turned to Syaoran again. “And I don’t buy this whole fight against the Dark Ones, which I think should have been taken care of three years ago. Besides, that girl over there, she’s a Dark One, and she’s working for Leiyun.”

 

“I’m not working for Leiyun,” interjected Erika from the corner, but Dairen ignored her, for he seemed to only speak with those within his radars—senior Lis or the powerful or wealthy or both.

 

“And the other one, the boy, is supposedly in some sort of alliance with the Card Mistress,” said Dairen. “Then, problem solved, isn’t it? Or if those twins cooperate, then you can easily end them or lock them away, and the threat of the Dark Ones, or what ever you call them, will be gone.”

 

Erika glowered from behind the banister but Leiyun shook his head and turned to his older cousin. “Cousin Dairen, I think there is something that you fail to understand. When we speak of the Dark Ones, we are not simply talking about the descendants of Chang Ruichi, but more specifically the original Dark Ones themselves. We are fighting against a never-ending curse, incurred by the mistakes of all our ancestors, not against any individual. If you have the answer to that puzzle, do enlighten us.”

 

Dairen blinked slowly and said, “I chose business, because there are clear solutions, clear profits and losses. I leave the messy curses and Five Forces business to you guys.”

 

Leiyun smiled. “Good, and I leave the Li Clan’s troubled finances to you.”

 

With a deep bow, Wei emerging from the dining room and announced to everyone’s relief, “Dinner is served.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

At school the next day, Meilin narrated the grand arrival of Shiefa and the rest of the Li business delegation to her friends. “And then, Leiyun, standing up for Syaoran, told my awful Cousin Dairen, ‘The battle against the Dark Ones is fight against a never-ending curse, not any individual,’ and that shut up Dairen completely.’” She clasped her hands together. “Leiyun’s always so carefree, not serious about anything, and then when he does turn serious, he’s so awesome.”

 

“That Cousin Dairen of yours sounds like quite a charmer,” drawled Kai. “Poor Erika getting caught in the middle of all that Li family drama. She really shouldn’t have meddled with Leiyun’s business in the first place.”

 

Tomoyo remarked, “You know, I never really thought about it that way, that this battle against the Dark Ones stopped being about Eron and Erika long ago. But Sakura-chan, you already knew that.”

 

Sakura had been listening silently to Meilin’s account of the arrival of the Li delegation to Japan and only smiled slightly in acknowledgement. At the same time, she was a little perturbed that Leiyun, whom she considered a newcomer to the situation, understood the crux of the situation as well as those who had spent the past three years deliberating over it. Then, where did that put Leiyun in the bigger picture in this fight against the Dark One?

 

“It’s surprising that Leiyun, who hasn’t been here from the beginning, understands so much about the situation after just several months in Tomoeda,” said Kai.

 

“But don’t you think Li Leiyun has been working on the pieces to this puzzle for much longer than we have been?” said Tomoyo slowly. “I’m not sure what the nature of his mission eight years ago was, but I would think he knew to a certain extent about the Five Force Magicians from even then.”

 

“If that’s the case, then maybe you should recruit Leiyun to your alliance,” remarked Kai, watching Sakura from behind his black shades. “Ah, but you don’t trust that man, do you, Sakura-chan? What do you, think, Tomoyo? What do you think of Leiyun’s motives?”

 

Tomoyo replied levelly, “I’m not sure—I haven’t given it much thought.”

 

Kai said, “But surely you have formed an opinion. You’ve spent quite some time with him these days.”

 

“He’s the conductor for the orchestra, that’s all,” said Tomoyo, suddenly feeling Eriol’s eyes flitting in her direction behind his glasses.

 

“So, Li Dairen is the oldest son of Li Group CEO Li Daifu, who we saw last time?” asked Sakura.

 

“No,” replied Syaoran. “He’s the second son.”

 

“That’s surprising he’s not the eldest,” remarked Miho. “And yet, he’s the chief financial officer of Li Corporation?”

 

“Dairen’s a financial whiz,” remarked Meilin grudgingly. “He’s always been the prodigy of the clan.”

 

“Yes, he is, unfortunately,” said a female voice from behind her. “And he knows it, too.”

 

The others started to see a tall woman with red auburn hair cropped short in the front, with a long tail that was braided down her back laced with a long green ribbon.

 

“Gah, what are you doing here?” demanded Syaoran, as his second oldest sister poked around the classroom, flipping through a copy of the Cinderella script lying around and picking up someone’s necktie draped on the back of a chair and wrapping it around her neck.

 

“So this is the school that Touya and Yukito went to,” sighed Li Shiefa. “Japanese high schools are such as wonderful place. Ah, the nostalgic smell of youth and aspirations and heartbreak of yesteryears.”

 

Tomboyish Shiefa, in a light green cheongsam paired with white slacks, with her flashy hairstyle and louder demeanor, drew even more attention at school than Fuutie, who had the appearance of an elegant beauty. She squealed, “Sakura-chan! Tomoyo-chan! How many years has it been? I almost didn’t recognize you two! I can’t believe you’re already high schoolers. You were just elementary school babies when I last saw you.”

 

Sakura and Tomoyo waved excitedly, but Syaoran shoved Shiefa out of the classroom with both hands, muttering, “Class is going to start soon, and you can’t just wander in and disrupt it. And where’s Fuutie?”

 

“Oh, she’s getting dragged around to business meetings with Dairen,” said Shiefa with a shudder. “Thank goodness I escaped in time.”

 

Syaoran asked her, “How did you end up being a part of the business delegation again?”

 

“Li Corporation Japan is looking into expanding its semiconductor business, so I came as a consultant,” replied Shiefa.

 

“You hate these kinds of board meetings,” remarked Syaoran. “What made you change your mind?”

 

Staring down at her discerning younger brother, Shiefa replied, “It’s true, I wasn’t originally planning on coming. But I got a call from Leiyun about Fuutie. I was worried about her too. And also, I wanted to look into the hacking business as well.”

 

Syaoran said slowly, “Last year, I was going through a rough patch myself, with losing my powers and injuring my arm, and being under the watch of the Council, so I wasn’t able to notice the pain she was in. How long has she been like this?”

 

“Fuutie, she’s the oldest so she always thinks she has to be strong, for the rest of us,” said Shiefa softly. “She never lets down her guard. But I could see how much she was suffering, how much strain she’s been under these past two years.”

 

“I never knew,” said Syaoran.

 

“How could you? Even those closest to her wouldn’t have known. And you were dealing with all the Clan business.”

 

“I’m sorry. I wish I could have been there for her,” said Syaoran.

 

“It should be us who should be sorry,” said Shiefa. “We couldn’t be there for you. Mother was occupied as Great Uncle Renshu’s caretaker. Fuutie was going through Zino’s death. The rest of us, we knew we were powerless. Mother warned us this was your battle with the Elders, to get them to acknowledge you, that we had to stay out of it.”

 

Syaoran, recalling a time he did not like to remember, slowly said, “I knew Mother and you were doing your best to support me in ways that were not directly visible. And I’ve always been grateful for that.”

 

And Shiefa slapped her younger brother on the back, nearly sending him reeling over. “Aw, don’t say such grown-up things and make me feel all old and maternal. You were always too serious for your own good ever since you were young. Lighten up and enjoy your high school days. They only come by once, you know, and you’ll end up missing it for the rest of your life. Well, go back to class and don’t worry about me—I promise I won’t do anything too perverted or strange. I’m here to see Leiyun, anyway.”

 

Shiefa poked her head into several other classrooms, as well as the infirmary, before finally landing in the music room, where she found Leiyun strumming a few chords on the piano, a pretty picture indeed with his silvery hair falling into his queer aqua blue eyes that perpetually seemed to be staring into the distance.

 

“You’re playing again?” she asked in disbelief.

 

“No, I’m just teaching music class,” said Leiyun. “My students will be coming in soon.”

 

Shiefa laughed, “Well, I guess that makes more sense. I heard some nonsense that you were the school doctor.”

 

“I am.”

 

“Good grief, don’t kill anyone—wait till Feimei graduates from law school should you decide to get embroiled in a medical malpractice suit,” she said, handing a file over to Leiyun.

 

“Thanks for dropping off the sheet music,” said Leiyun. “Sorry for making you come all the way to school.”

 

“It’s all right—I needed any excuse to escape from the meetings with Dairen. And I wanted to check out Syaoran’s school, anyway.” She smiled crookedly. “It looks like he’s doing well. He looks happier than I’ve seen with all year.”

 

“Yeah, he’s so happy it makes me want to torture him a little bit,” remarked Leiyun.

 

“Or embarrass him before the whole school with his toddler pictures,” added Shiefa. “It seems like he’s established a cool guy image here. But they don’t know nothing’s cuter than a mortified Syaoran.”

 

Leiyun nodded in agreement, “With his face the color of an apple, looking as if he wants to crawl into a hole and never come out again.”

 

Miho was a bit alarmed at the sight of the two Li cousins cackling, an evil sound she often heard coming from Nakuru and Eriol when they were up to no good. “Syaoran’s Sister No. 2!” she exclaimed, catching glimpse of the showy woman who could only be Li Shiefa.

 

“Whoa, is that another one of Li Syaoran-senpai’s sisters?” asked her classmate Shouji, immediately spotting the resemblance to Li Fuutie. “How many sisters does he have?”

 

“Li-sensei, are you giving back our pop quiz grades today?” asked Miho.

 

“Li-sensei! You promised you would play us a riff on the guitar if we memorized our song!” called out the prettiest girl in the class, Ayu, who was also the best singer of the grade.

 

And Shiefa turned to Leiyun. “You actually had a class coming in? I completely thought you were joking.” She reeled over clutching her stomach, laughing her head off. “This is too hilarious. Wait till I tell Fanren and Feimei about this. Our high-and-mighty Li Leiyun out here in the countryside of Japan, teaching a bunch of high school duckling music, and them calling you Li-Sensei. How rich. I think the Elders would cry.”

 

Shouji, not liking this Li sister as much as the gentile older one, said defensively, “Li-sensei is an awesome music teacher. And an okay doctor too though I’ve never really seen him treat anyone of anything.”

 

“I’m sure he is,” said Shiefa, wiping her eyes with the corner of her sleeves. “Though the Elders once supposed he would have saved a nation by now. Or destroyed one. Instead, he’s normal. A perfectly normal, mundane, dedicated salary man.”

 

Miho had to hand it to Syaoran’s sisters for being the only ones who could make the aloof Leiyun visibly squirm. And yet, he did not lose his temper with them, and only laughed out loud in good humor. “You’d cry when you hear what a meager salary I make too since I’m just a temporary substitute teacher and a foreign citizen to top that,” he told Shiefa. “They don’t even give me health or life insurance!”

 

“Meh, neither does the Li Clan,” Shiefa said, and the two of them laughed at the macabre inside joke, which only Miho caught onto.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“I haven’t seen Syaoran look so miserable since you first transferred to Tomoeda Elementary School,” remarked Tomoyo to Eriol, sipping on a cup of black tea, watching the spectacle unfold during lunch time.

 

Eriol, also drinking tea, said, “In my defense, I was deliberately trying to make him miserable. I don’t think Li Fuutie is trying to do that.”

 

Shiefa had laid out a red and white checkered picnic blanket on the grass underneath a tree and unfolded a huge bento. She had forced Syaoran to sit next to her and held up a burned fried shrimp with her chopstick. “Say ‘ah,’ Syaoran, don’t be shy.”

 

“I can eat by myself!” exclaimed Syaoran, ears red as his sister drew curious stares from classmates, seniors, and underclassmen alike.

 

“I woke up early in the morning to pack your lunch and came all the way to school to have this bento with you!” said Shiefa with a pout. “Are you spurning my efforts just because you’re a high schooler now? And the rest of you, please help yourselves. I packed enough for all of you too.”

 

Sakura tried to stifle a giggle by stuffing a sandwich packed by Shiefa into the mouth. She turned green for a second.

 

“You must finish everything!” said Shiefa, clasping her hands together. “I made it all by myself, though Wei tried to stop me!”

 

Syaoran guzzled down some more tea, wishing Wei had tried harder.

 

Kai, munching on the dry sandwich, remarked, “You know Meilin, I may have become spoiled by Syaoran and your fantastic cooking. I’ve survived off of stale pizza, moldy bread and undercooked instant noodles in my thieving days without much qualm. But I can confidently say your cousin Shiefa is an awful cook.”

 

“Of course,” whispered Meilin. “Why do you think Syaoran became so good at cooking for?”

 

Shiefa waved her hand as she spotted Leiyun walk outside to enjoy the sunlight. “Leiyun! I packed lunch for all of us!” she exclaimed.


And Leiyun spun around, his white coat swirling around him, and he muttered, “Ah, I forgot we have a teachers’ meeting today.”

 

“Poor Leiyun, he must be busy. I must save a couple of my sandwiches for him to eat later,” said Shiefa. She turned to Kai, who was tearing up pieces of the sandwich and feeding it to little doves that had hopped over to him. “So, what’s your role in Sakura’s alliance, Porcupine-head?”

 

The former thief, pitch-black sunglasses gleaming, glanced up and pointed to himself. “Me?” For a second, he glanced at Meilin, then at Syaoran helplessly, at a loss for words.

 

“Kai-kun is our chief intelligence adviser,” said Sakura.

 

“So, he’s like the spymaster?” asked Shiefa. “Who’s he spying on?”

 

“Namely the Li Clan,” muttered Eron under his breath from his corner.

 

Miho, leaning forward, said, “Shiefa-onee-san, you grew up with Li-sensei, right? Tell us about him in the old days.”

 

And Shiefa reached over and pinched Miho’s cheeks. “I don’t know your face. So you must be Tanaka Miho, based on my intel. You’re so adorable! How does such a cute thing like you have such a delinquent-looking older brother?” She heaved a sigh, staring back toward the school building where Leiyun had disappeared into. “How to describe Leiyun of those days. He was the only son of the Head of the Li Clan, so there was always an expectation he was candidate to become the Chosen One, or the future Head of the Clan. But he was truly friendly and accessible to everyone—he was everyone’s Leiyun. The older generation and younger generation alike adored him alike because he was courteous, kind and generous. The younger cousins especially idolized him.” Shiefa paused, as if recalling something she hadn’t in a long time and maybe regretting it.

 

She continued, “Following my father’s death, there had been a growing generation gap between the Elders and the younger generation. The Elders were traditionalists—they didn’t want change. But Dairen, Jingmei, Fuutie, and a few other cousins in the same age range that were considered the most talented of their generation formed a close circle around Leiyun, who stood for reform of the Li Clan. We believed that the Li Clan had to change with modern times, that we could no longer survive being an exclusive, elitist entity, and that we had to redefine our role in society.” Shiefa turned to Syaoran. “You were too young then, but back then, we never imagined that anyone but Leiyun would become the Chosen One to succeed our father. We laughed when Leiyun spoke of training Syaoran for the position. I mean, maybe in another 10 or 20 years, but we always thought it would be Leiyun who would follow our father’s footsteps.”

 

Syaoran shrugged. “I always thought Leiyun would become the Chosen One too.”

 

“Until, he went on that mission eight years ago and never returned,” Shiefa said quietly. “I always thought Leiyun was invincible. He was our ringleader. It was hard to believe he had been defeated. There was quite a bit of internal panic as well, since the presumed Chosen One in training was gone, and the next potential candidate was only nine years old. There was a lot of unrest within the younger generation as well, since Leiyun’s mission and how he died was left so ambiguous. And we fell apart. Daifu had a falling out with his father. Jingmei became immersed in studying healing. Jinyu formally entered the triads. Fuutie was especially hit hard by his death, since she and Leiyun were especially close. Now that I think of it, it was during such times that she began relying more and more on that person.”

 

“You mean Wu Zino?” asked Sakura.

 

Shiefa glanced at her, surprised. “You know of him. Yes.”

 

Meilin asked, “I’ve met Zilai and Zian. But what kind of person was the Gold Dragon?”

 

With a tilt of her head, Shiefa said, “Completely the opposite of his ostentatious younger siblings, I would say. He was tall and brutish, but he had an unexpected gentle side only those close to him might have glimpsed. Like when he was around my sister, or with his younger siblings. But to the Hong Kong underworld, he was the formidable mafia boss that singlehandedly unified the many different factions.” 

 

“What sort of relationship did they have?” asked Sakura softly. “Wu Zino and Fuutie-san.”

 

“I guess appropriate to start with how they met,” said Shiefa, pausing for a moment. “The two met for the first time when Fuutie was around 10. It was right after she learned that our father had died during his mission. They didn’t know then, but I was watching that day that they first met because I was worried about my older sister and had followed her quietly to the harbor when she skipped school that day. She walked into the ocean in her school uniform, standing with the seawater to her waist, perhaps mourning for him, perhaps in meditation. And an older boy, a high schooler who looked like a delinquent was passing by that day on his motorcycle and spotted her. He thought she was trying to drown herself, and chased after her into the water and dragged her out. She was annoyed, because she clearly wasn’t trying to harm herself, she just wanted to be left alone to mourn for our father in peace. She needed a place to cry, I suppose, because she was the oldest child, she didn’t want to cry in front of us. That was their first meeting. At that time, Wu Zino seemed like an adult—he would have been around 16, and already had many unscrupulous rumors surrounding him since he was already involved with the Hong Kong triads. After that, they had several more encounters. And she developed a crush on him pretty fast, I believe.”

 

“They didn’t start dating when she was only 10!” exclaimed Meilin in shock, though of course she knew there had been couples with greater age differences. 

 

“Of course not,” said Shiefa with a chuckle. “He didn’t see her in that way at first and just thought of her as a kid. But there were many chances when their paths would cross, as eldest children of the prominent Li Clan and Wu Clan. He was at that time training to become his Clan’s head, and was very serious and dedicated. And my sister Fuutie is clever and beautiful—she never had a shortage of admirers as well. Over the years, Fuutie never gave up pursuing him, and she entered high school finally. They began officially dating after she turned 16. She tried it to keep it a secret, but I knew from the get-go since I had to cover for her so many times. Luckily, our mother was distracted at that time because this was when Syaoran was training to pass the Chosen One Test and preparing to go to Japan. Mother would never have approved.”

 

“Why, because he was mafia?” asked Kai. “Which is quite hypocritical considering the Li Clan’s involvement with the triads. Besides, I thought the Wu Clan is the third largest magic clan in Hong Kong.”

 

Fuutie shrugged, “Despite the Wu Clan having become a wealthy and powerful family to reckon with, Zino still would not have made a suitable suitor for Li Fuutie, eldest daughter of the former Chosen One Li Ryuuren, a main branch Li. The Wu Clan has only risen in power over the more recent decades because of its connection to the triads. The Li and Tang Clans had often scorned the Wus for being nouveau riche, coming from black market money, while the former two originated from an imperial line from mainland China. And Zino, while a powerful ally, was still mafia at the end of the day, in the eyes of the Elders, unworthy of winning the hand of Fuutie, the epitome of a well-bred elite young lady.”  

 

“I wonder what the turning point was that Zino-san saw Fuutie-san as a women and not just a girl,” remarked Tomoyo.

 

“It’s all complicated—I don’t know all the details myself,” said Shiefa with a shrug. “But I do know that it was Fuutie was very persistent. And Zino, despite his gruff exterior was a gentle spirit. He treasured her very much—and it was apparent he had watched over and protected her for many years before he ever made a move on her though she’s always been way mature for her age. He had some strange code of honor, despite being mafia boss and all.”

 

“So, they kept their relationship a secret the whole time?” remarked Sakura.

 

“Yeah. Zino, the Gold Dragon, became head of the Hong Kong triads when he turned 21, defeating the former boss, a cruel and crooked man. Zino over the next couple years went onto reforming the Hong Kong underworld, unifying the feuding factions and setting out a widespread codification of the triads. But as mafia boss, he had a lot of enemies as well vying to become the next head of the Hong Kong triads. If it was known that Fuutie was his girlfriend, she could have been targeted, and he wouldn’t have wanted that. Of course, a select few on both sides inadvertently learned of the relationship anyway. But in the end, Zino ended up breaking up with her anyway. And not long afterwards, he died. That must have been around two years ago.”

 

“How exactly did Wu Zino-san die?” asked Syaoran.

 

Shiefa replied, “There were many rumors at that time about how he died, and few witnesses. But the most popular story is that Jinyu was the one who killed him. That is the story of how the Black Dragon became the new mafia king to succeed Wu Zino.”

 

Tomoyo frowned. “Yet, how is it that those who loved Zino, including his own brother and sister, are following Jinyu then?”

 

“Jinyu was already the second in charge. Zino had expressed many times that should anything happen to him, Jinyu would become the next boss. But, of course, Jin was young and the seasoned mafia wouldn’t just accept anyone. Don’t get me wrong about Zino—he was kind to Fuutie but he was also a merciless mafia leader. He didn’t treat his enemies kindly,” said Shiefa. 

 

“I’m not getting the larger picture,” said Sakura. “Something is off.”

 

“You’d have to talk to the people who were there that night, namely Jinyu—but he’s never spoken of that night since,” said Shiefa.

 

“T-talk with Jinyu-san?” squeaked Sakura, paling at the sheer idea of attempting a conversation with the sullen Black Dragon.

 

“Or Zian,” said Meilin suddenly. “Zian would know.”

 

“Yes, he probably would,” said Shiefa. “Except, he would never speak of Zino’s death. That’s one of the reasons he and my youngest sister Feimei had a major falling out. The two used to be inseparable at one point.” 

 

Sakura frowned. So many years have passed, and yet, the heart did not heal so quickly after the loss of a love. Her father, she knew, had never gotten over with the death of her mother. And there also was Clow Reed who had lost the love his life, Mizuki Mika, and spent his lifetime and the next to be reunited with her.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

By a low-key search for the dark force, Sakura had meant only herself, Kero-chan, and Tomoyo, just like old days, with of course Syaoran. But somehow, word had gotten around the Alliance about the search for the unknown dark force or forces, and the entire group, sans her older brother, had showed up promptly at the King Penguin Park forest without any prior notice. And they were wearing perfectly coordinated outfits, meaning Tomoyo was behind this somehow.

 

Syaoran was late, which was unusual since he was usually quite punctual. She was agonizing over how to apologize over what a huge debacle the night’s activities had become, when Sakura saw Syaoran step out in his green battle costume, sword strapped to his back, accompanied by quite an entourage of his own, with his two sisters, the Black Dragon, Leiyun, and Dr. Li Jingmei, with Kara Reed and Chang Erika not far behind them.

 

“What are they all doing here?” hissed Suppi-chan.

 

Ruby Moon shrugged. “Maybe we are having another faceoff with the yakuza.”

 

“Something about the Brat looks different from before,” remarked Kero-chan.

 

Tomoyo couldn’t help but circle around Syaoran like a humming bee with camcorder zoomed up to him. “Yes, it looks like the same battle outfit but it isn’t.” She had seen Syaoran go through many versions of the green Chosen One battle costume, from the original one from elementary school, to a winter version made with thicker lining and boots, a summer version with lighter spring green breezier fabric. Sometimes he alternated with black trousers instead of white, sometimes his robes had slimmer, fitted sleeves. This one was a darker forest green, offset with black and orange trimming, while the gold trimmings on the sleeves and neck were flecked with actual gold embroidery. “Wow, this must truly be an ultimate upgraded version.”

 

“Of course,” remarked Fuutie. “Fanren had a brand new battle costume made, since Syaoran is now the Great Elder, as well as the Chosen One.”

 

Kero-chan remarked sourly, “What is with this whole big Li entourage?”

 

Shiefa replied, “Well, Syaoran is our Great Elder now—should he go to battle, he must have at hand his chief strategist Leiyun, Protector of the Clan Jinyu, his personal bodyguard Meilin, and a healer, Jingmei.”

 

“Do you guys really think we are heading into some sort of major battle?” Kero-chan asked. “All you Lis in one place reeking of magic will only unbalance the dark force. Capturing dark forces, or even Clow Cards, is about subtlety, calculation and catching the force off guard.”

 

“Well, Sakura has her whole big alliance backing her—why can’t Syaoran have us?” demanded Shiefa.

 

“Because you’re outsiders, that’s why. I get the others Lis’ roles, but what are you two doing here besides creating a disturbance?” asked Kero-chan, nodding toward Fuutie as well.

 

“We’re being Tomoyo of course!” exclaimed Shiefa, whipping out her DSLR camera. “We promised Feimei and Fanren high-quality pictures of Syaoran in his new battle costume.” And her sister snapped photos on her smartphone and immediately forwarded them to their younger sisters.

 

Syaoran seemed to grow wearier by the moment. He whispered to Sakura, “I really tried to sneak out alone, but they tracked me down somehow.”

 

“Just give them the money shots and sneak off later to properly catch the dark force,” remarked Kai with a shrug.

 

“As spoken like a world-famous thief known to manipulate media,” remarked Meilin sourly.

 

“Sakura-chan, come over here and twirl around for me once. You look absolutely adorable,” said Fuutie, admiring how beautiful the Star Alliance looked in their coordinated outfits. “Wow, Tomoyo, did you make all these costumes?

 

“Hoe,” Sakura wailed, as Fuutie swirled her around and around to admire from all angles the billowing pale pink dress that faded into a spring green at the skirt like a flower in bloom. The dress had a qipao-style high collar, lined with silver, but the skirt was short, and flared out in a bell shape, with layers of hot pink lace petticoat underneath. It was adorned with a wide green sash around the waist, tied into a large bow on the back. A little light green ribbon and pink lace garter adorned her left thigh, and she had a little pink cap on her head accented with silver.

 

The other members of the Alliance of the stars had matching outfits with qipao-style collars. The guys had cheongsam-style tops paired with trousers. Eriol’s was a long sleeved deep navy robe that faded into sky blue, which offset his hair color. Yue had foregone his usual white and lavender robes and wore a sky blue version that faded into violet, his long silver hair held back by a violet ribbon. Eron seemed to reluctantly be wearing a purple version that faded into bronze, matching his eye color.

 

Kai was resplendent in a sleeveless and black which sifted into a deep oxblood, and was the only one that came with a cape as well. Likewise, Meilin’s version was red with flowing sleeves that faded into bright orange, and unlike Sakura’s dress had a fitted skirt with a small slit on the side, similar to her usual battle outfit. Miho wore an orange fabric that faded into a yellow, and hers was paired with lacy bloomers underneath the short skirt. Mizuki Kaho’s version was half-sleeved and long-skirted and was yellow that faded into bronze. Ruby Moon was fabulous in a brilliant maroon dress that faded into a bright turquoise.

 

Even Tomoyo, whose hair was braided up into a coronet around her head, was wearing what seemed like a rose-gold version of the dress, with a hem that came to her calves. Upon closer look though, it was a gold dress that faded into pink in the edges.

 

Shiefa sighed, “I wish Touya-san was here too. And Yukito-san.”

 

Meilin cleared her throat. “Yukito-san is here.” She pointed to Yue, who seemed quite disconcerted to be wearing anything other than his usual outfit, yet was even more frail and beautiful than ever with the pop of color.

 

“Oh, I was so much more into that bed-tussled, innocent glasses look that Yukito-san has going on,” said Shiefa. “When did he grow out his hair so long?”

 

Fuutie said, “So, I’m guessing Touya’s outfit would have been navy fading into turquoise?”

 

“How did you know?” exclaimed Tomoyo. “He would have looked so handsome in it, too.”

 

Sakura glanced up, and checked that though Yue and Ruby Moon were there, her brother wasn’t.

 

Shiefa glanced between the Star Alliance and turned to Leiyun, who was angelic with his feathery light hair, in a stark white cheongsam with fitted sleeves and delicate silver embroidery. “Why can’t we coordinate our battle costumes too, like them?”

 

“Aren’t we coordinated enough?” asked Jingmei. “I mean, we’re all wearing Chinese-style outfits like you told us to wear.”

 

“But our colors and fabrics are not matching! Look at them, they’re like a beautiful rainbow!” declared Shiefa.

 

Leiyun blinked slowly. “Do you want us to dress like Sailor Senshi as well? I can put in a word with Wei.”

 

Tomoyo said weakly, “Well, Fuutie-san, Shiefa-san I have some extra outfits in the van that might fit you.”

 

“Really?” exclaimed Shiefa. “Even for Leiyun?”

 

Tomoyo was sure some of the extra outfits she had for Yue or even Syaoran would fit Leiyun fine, but it was Leiyun who waved his hand. “I’ll pass. Get the sisters dressed, Tomoyo, and I’ll make sure they observe quietly from the sidelines and let you guys get on with whatever you are here for besides an impromptu fashion show in the woods.”

 

“And what brings you’re here today?” asked Tomoyo, hearing Syaoran’s sisters squealed in the van as they filed through the racks of Sakura’s battle costumes.

 

“The sisters forced me to come,” replied Leiyun. “Otherwise, why would I impose on a place where I am not welcome?”

 

“You could be welcome if you let yourself be,” remarked Tomoyo.

 

“I doubt it,” said Leiyun. “Our little Card Mistress detests me.”

 

Shiefa, in a forest green long dress that faded into teal, paired with slacks, and Fuutie in a teal and gray dress that came to her calves, came out of the van, admiring their new outfits.

 

After an hour of excitedly photographing Syaoran, Shiefa asked, “So, why are we just standing around? When is the dark force coming out?”

 

Kero-chan sighed. “A dark force doesn’t just come out because we want it to. The circumstance has to be right.”

 

“Well, make the circumstances right then,” said Fuutie. “I want to catch an episode of my favorite new drama tonight.”

 

“It doesn’t work like that!” snapped Kero-chan. “Capturing dark forces is a very delicate process that requires tact and strategy and—”

 

“This is kind of boring,” remarked Shiefa, paying no heed to Kero-chan.

 

“There really isn’t much to being a Card Captor, is there?” said Fuutie.

 

“Can I bite them?” Kero-chan asked Sakura.

 

But his mistress merely laughed. “I think Syaoran might beat you to it.”

 

Syaoran, brows furrowed down, stomped up to his sister. “Both of you, either get into the van and stay quiet, or I’ll make you leave completely.”

 

Fuutie, holding up a handkerchief to her eyes, said, “Syaoran, how can you speak to us like that. We are only here out of love for our baby brother. We came this long way from Hong Kong just to check on you, and our Mother worries too.”

 

Unrelenting, Syaoran pointed to Tomoyo’s RV and said, “In there. Now.”

 

“There’s something there,” said Fuutie, glancing toward the woods.

 

Syaoran frowned. “That’s not going to work on me.”

 

And the group felt a sizzling heat as blue fire blazed across the clearing.

 

“It’s the demon fire again,” said Kai, jumping atop a tree branch.

 

Sakura looked up and saw that a ring of fire had encircled the group and was burning higher and higher. Yue soared up into the sky and said, “The fire’s spreading northwestward. We have to contain it.”

 

“I’ll get it under control,” said Kaho, who climbed on Spinel Sun’s back.

 

“I’ll help contain the forest fire,” exclaimed Miho. “Fire is my forte, after all.” Cerberus let her climb on his back, and the two beasts soared off into the sky, right in time as the ring of fire blazed higher up, engulfing the group in a dome.

 

Jingmei let out a shriek, covering her head with her arms. “We’re going to be burned to death!”

 

“No, we’re not,” said Leiyun. And Jingmei uncovered her face, and gazed up at what Leiyun was staring at.

 

Eriol, had released his Sun Staff released, and the group was encircled in a strong dome-shaped barrier that shielded them from the fire.

 

“What is that?” whispered Meilin. “It’s completely different from the Firey, isn’t it?”

 

Syaoran replied, “This fire seems to be fueled by some unnatural cause—as Kai said, most likely an evil spirit.”

 

“We’re not going to be able to track down the source, being trapped inside here,” remarked Shiefa. “Let’s go find the source!” She released here weapon of choice, a long lance, and darted out toward the far end of the barrier.

 

“No Shiefa!” called out Syaoran. “Don’t leave the barrier!”

 

“Why, I’ll go hunt down that dark force or shikigami or whatever it is,” said Shiefa. “What else did we come here to do?”

 

Syaoran said, “We’ll handle it. You stay here.”

 

Shiefa frowned, “Are you doubting my skills? I learned how to fight when you were in diapers. I’m sure I can take down any of you here singlehandedly with my lance. Save maybe Leiyun. I’m here to be useful.”

 

But Syaoran said, “I know your skills, Shiefa. I even learned from you. But while you are in Japan, you are under my guardianship.”

 

“You?” Shiefa scowled. “Just because you’ve become the Great Elder, you think you can order your older sister around? Come here, let me knock you down a notch or two.”

 

It was Fuutie who stepped in and put a hand on Shiefa’s shoulder, shaking her head. “Syaoran’s right. We are under his guardianship in Japan. And while it’s true you are strong, have you ever put you ever been on the field? We’ve never actually been in a real battle. Only controlled matches. We don’t know what is out there, and it may be dangerous. We don’t want to become a liability for Syaoran.”

 

Finally, with a long sigh, Shiefa set down her lance. “Fine.”

 

“Look, I think Mizuki-sensei and Miho were able to control most of the fire,” said Meilin. Indeed, the flames were sparser, and they could see the other side of the clearing. 

 

Sakura frowned. “I already have the Firey, and it’s hard to imagine there are any comparable dark forces. And it doesn’t feel much like a dark force at all. If this is really caused by a yokai, that’s something we’ve never encounter before.”

 

Kai nodded. “This town does not have many yokai or the likes, mainly because it’s been infested with released Clow Cards and dark forces—they’ve driven most yokai and evil spirits away.”

 

“Then if it is a yokai, it has to be one that’s stronger than dark forces and Clow Cards,” remarked Meilin.

 

Eron said, “Not necessarily. It could just be a stray.”

 

Fuutie looked up again, staring into the distance. “It’s here again,” she whispered.

 

“What is?” asked Shiefa.


And Fuutie pushed past her sister and ran out toward the flames, breaking through the barrier, to an unknown object.

 

“Wait, where are you going?” asked Syaoran, chasing after her.

 

In alarm, Sakura released her staff and called out, “Freeze!” The towering flames froze into icy columns, and Fuutie passed through them without burning.

 

“Fuutie, you can’t go that way!” called out Syaoran. And he looked up, and saw it too. A majestic gleaming white beast.

 

“The White Tiger,” whispered Sakura, catching up.

 

The tiger stared at Fuutie with gleaming red eyes, then ran off again, further into the woods, where the fire was still spreading.


“Don’t follow him!” called out Syaoran. “It’s a trap!”

 

But Fuutie was running faster, pushing through shrubs and swatting away low branches, chasing after the beast.

 

“Yue!” called out Sakura. And Yue, spreading his white wings soared up overhead as Fuutie darted deeper into the forest. With his silver bow, he shot at the white tiger. The tiger dodged, and Yue released another arrow, this time piercing the beast in the shoulder, and it let out a horrific roar.

 

Fuutie had caught up with the tiger, and stood in front of him, arms spread. “Don’t hurt him!”

 

Yue, front the sky, another arrow strung to his bow, said, “That creature is the cause of the fire.”

 

“No, he’s not!” said Fuutie.

 

“Fuutie, that is not the White Tiger,” said Leiyun. “It’s just a low-level yokai, or something of that sort.”

 

“It’s him. I know it’s him!” replied Fuutie, hair falling to her face, as she wrapped her arms around the creature.

 

Sakura hesitated, glancing between Syaoran and Leiyun, wondering what the true identity of this creature was.

 

Kai spun around and turned to Eron. “You. The White Tiger—isn’t that—”

 

“What, are you accusing me again?” snapped Eron. “As much beef as I have with Syaoran, I have nothing against his sisters. Besides, I wouldn’t do such a sloppy job.”

 

Leiyun said slowly, “Jinyu, go finish off that creature and show her what its true form is.” And Jinyu nodded a narrow blade with a black hilt in hand, stepping toward the tiger.

 

With sapphire eyes blazing in fury, Fuutie stood up and grabbed Syaoran’s sword which was sheathed to his back. Then she dashed forward at Jinyu who barely had time to register her attack. He blocked quickly with his slender blade, then leaped back as Fuutie came in for another attack, both hands on the broad hilt of Syaoran’s jian.

 

“Fuutie, what are you doing?” exclaimed Shiefa in horror. “Stop it!”

 

But Fuutie was not listening, her short auburn hair flying back from the wind, her robes a blur of gray and turquoise as she dashed forward with amazing speed. She was driving him further and further into the center of the forest fire.

 

“Jinyu’s not fighting back,” remarked Erika.

 

“Of course he wouldn’t,” said Kara, careful to stand away from the clash. “Doesn’t his face read, guilty as charged?”

 

“Then he really did murder Wu Zino?” asked Erika with a frown. She knew that as a triad boss, Jinyu must have had blood in his hands. But somehow, she could not link the merciless mafia boss to the reticent man she had grown to know over the past several months.  

 

Miho rushed up to them and demanded, “What’s going on? We’ve contained the forest fire to this area—it’s not spreading, but it’s really stubborn. Kaho’s having trouble putting it out completely because we can’t trace the source.” Her eyes widened as she saw Fuutie swing at Jinyu, barely missing his neck. “What is Syaoran’s sister doing? Is there a dark force? Wait, isn’t that Syaoran’s Five Force Sword?”

 

“Oh my gosh, Syaoran, do something,” said Meilin. “I think Fuutie’s serious. Someone’s going to seriously get hurt.”

 

But Syaoran was frozen, stunned at the rage that filled Fuutie’s face.

 

Of course Syaoran would be shocked. For him, his oldest sister had been the rock, the pillar of the family, after their father died. Sakura scrunched up her face. Fuutie had been in love with a man called the Gold Dragon, the former head of the Hong Kong triads and the oldest brother of the troublesome Wu siblings, Zian and Zilai. He was also called the White Tiger, apparently the patron animal of the Wu Clan. Fuutie believed that the Black Dragon had killed Wu Zino in order to become the new King of the Hong Kong Underworld. And to this day, she had never cleared up this with Jinyu. She had so many questions, and yet, she could not ask any of them, because she was afraid of hearing the answer, afraid of hearing what the Li Clan’s involvement in Zino’s death was.

 

Fuutie’s face was ashen, her blue eyes dilated as she swung the sword expertly above her head, red tassel swinging out behind her, barely missing Jinyu’s chest.

 

Shiefa whispered, “I’ve never seen my sister lose control like this before. The past two years since Zino died, it’s like she was in denial, ignoring he was gone.”

 

“We’ve got to stop her—her body’s going to give out on her,” exclaimed Meilin. “I forgot what a strong fighter she was.”

 

Shiefa murmured, “Fuutie was always a powerful swordswoman. She and Leiyun were the last to have received training underneath my father. I would have started soon too, but he passed away. Fuutie always could carry a decent swordfight against the best of the Li swordsman—her techniques top class.”

 

“Fuutie-san is being controlled by a dark force,” said Sakura. “It’s an Emotion, I’m sure.”

 

“Which emotion?” asked Tomoyo with a frown. “It can’t just be grief from losing her loved one.”

 

“Kübler-Ross’ five stages of grief,” said Eriol. “First comes denial, then anger. Then bargaining, depression and acceptance.”

 

“Anger,” murmured Sakura. “Fuutie-san is under the control of the Wrath.” She groaned internally—out of all the dark forces, she feared the Emotions the most. Because there was really no clear cut way to seal them.  

 

Sakura, clutching her staff, stared at Syaoran, who clearly couldn’t attack his sister. Not only was Jinyu in danger, but it was clear that Fuutie was straining herself as well. She had to do something. But what?

 

Jinyu, usually agile, was dodging Fuutie’s attacks quite sloppily. She had backed him up against a tree, and she pointed the blade to the nape of his neck.

 

“Why?” demanded Fuutie, tears streaming down her face. “Why did you have to kill him?”

 

But the Black Dragon only stared back at her with his reddish-amber eyes, silent.

 

“You should understand. I thought you cared for him as much as I did,” continued Fuutie. “There was nobody closer to him than you, across the years. Why did you do it?”

 

And from behind them, Leiyun pushed through and walked straight toward Fuutie who slashed at Jinyu blindly, driving him further and further back to the flames behind them. 

 

“What is he trying to do?” whispered Miho, staring at the expressionless older man, ghostly white in the darkness of the deep black forest lit only lit by ghoulish blue flames surrounding them.

 

And Leiyun closed in on Fuutie, who finally noticed his presence. “Get out of my way, Leiyun!” she exclaimed. “My business is with Jinyu. Fight me! Fight me you coward! Why? Why can’t you face me squarely?” Fuutie dashed forward, knocking Jinyu to the ground. She raised the blade in the air and was about to slash down at the Black Dragon, who made no attempt to escape. But she was not able to strike down her sword. And she looked up to see what was blocking her. Leiyun, grasping the blade with his bare hand, stared straight into her eyes.

 

“This is the sword of you father, the Great Five Force Treasure. It is a sacred sword meant to protect, not for revenge,” he said. “Don’t misuse it.”

 

And Fuutie’s blue eyes widened at the mention of her father, and she dropped the blade. Then she stared at Jinyu on the ground. She crumpled down on her knees, head buried in her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I haven’t thought about him for so long. But when I saw the White Tiger, it just all came back to me.”

 

“Fuutie, don’t. Don’t go back to that place,” said Leiyun, drawing his cousin into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you had to go through that. I miss him too. But he’s gone now. You have to let go of him.”

 

Tears were flowing down Fuutie’s eyes, blocked by Leiyun’s shoulders. “I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t get to see him one last time. I wasn’t there for him. The last thing I said to him was that I hated him and never wanted to see him again. I never thought that would come true. I didn’t tell him how much I loved him, even if he no longer loved me, that I would always love him. ”

 

Leiyun was stroking her hair with his left hand, and he told her softly, “He would have known. Some things are known even without words.”

 

“You must think me foolish,” she said, in between hiccups. “I never knew how weak and fragile I was. And I hated it.”

 

“No, I don’t think you’re foolish,” said Leiyun. “It’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to grieve. It’s okay to miss him.”

 

And Shiefa came over and wrapped her arms around her older sister, helping her up. “Fuutie, I’m here for you. I’ve always been here. It’s okay to rely on us, once in a while.”

 

Leiyun too stood up, and picked up the Five Force Sword with his left hand. For a moment, he stared down at the blade. He handed it to Syaoran. “Don’t let this be taken away so easily.”

 

Syaoran nodded. “Thanks. About my sister.”

 

“She will be okay. She is our invincible Li Fuutie, after all,” said Leiyun.

 

Tomoyo glanced up at the silver-haired man who had a strange look of compassion, pity and contempt in his eyes, then glanced down at his limp fingertips. “Your hand,” she said, walking up to his side.

 

He glanced down at his right hand. “It’s fine. The blade wasn’t even sharpened, anyway.” With his teeth, he ripped his shirt sleeve that wrapped it around his palms as a makeshift bandage. “Why don’t we call it a night? I do not think we will be seeing any more dark forces tonight.”

 

Jingmei rushed up next to him and grumbled, “Did you forget you have an actual doctor next to you? Let me see it.”

 

Leiyun waved his crudely bandaged right hand and said, “It’s nothing. Not worth your energy. Focus on the serious stuff. Go see to Fuutie. Maybe you can brew her one of your special teas to ease her nerves.”

 

“How can you remain so calm?” asked Jingmei softly. “Weren’t you really close to Wu Zino as well? You’re the one who’s known him the longest, after all.”

 

“Did you guys even miss me half as much as you guys miss Zino when you thought me dead?” Leiyun asked Jinyu, who was still completely quiet, strands of his hair having slipped from his tight tail down the back of his head. “I don’t know whether I whether I should be hurt or not.”

 

“It was Syaoran who went on a rampage,” remarked Jingmei. “That idiotic kid smashed up all the large parlor windows in the Main House with his bare fist. He broke both arms and was hospitalized for ages. My father nearly had a heart-attack—we were terrified he might have slashed a nerve or two from the glass shards.”

 

“He’s not even human,” murmured Miho, narrowing her gray eyes at Leiyun. “How can he grip the sword like that and not even shed a drop of blood?”

 

“He said the sword’s not sharpened,” pointed out Suppi-chan.

 

“It’s not sharpened, but doesn’t mean it’s completely blunt,” pointed out Kero-chan. “What a reckless man.”

 

Sakura, not knowing what to do, gripped the sleeve of Syaoran’s green robes with her thumb and forefinger, unable to speak but not willing to let go.

 

He turned around, surprised to find her hanging onto his sleeve like a child full of concern. He could tell she wanted to comfort him but did not know what to say so was staying silently by his side.

 

“My sister Fuutie’s strong,” said Syaoran. “Growing up, Mother was always very strict and distant, and she was always busy with the Li Council business, in place of my father. It was Fuutie who really led the family after Father died, though now I realized she was just a young girl, only in elementary school. She was very brave, and I admired her greatly.”

 

“I can imagine so,” said Sakura quietly.

 

“She won’t give into some dark force, or an Emotion,” Syaoran added.

 

“Of course not. I won’t let that happen,” said Sakura. And her simple yet utterly sincere words drew a small smile from Syaoran.

 

And he said, “Come, let’s call it a night. We failed to catch the dark force.”

 

“But there’s always tomorrow,” concluded Sakura.

 

Tomoyo knew it was inappropriate to squeal in happiness at the thought of another shot at dressing Sakura, and tried to contain her momentary joy.

 

Kaho walked up to them and informed them that the forest fire had been put out completely, though the source had not been tracked. And the White Tiger had vanished completely.

 

“You don’t actually think that could have actually been the ghost of Wu Zino?” remarked Kara. “Maybe he wanted to see his love one last time.”

 

“He wouldn’t do that,” replied Leiyun.

 

“Why not? Perhaps he wanted closure,” said Kara.

 

“When you returned to your first love’s side, were you able to find closure?” Leiyun asked softly. “Or, did that just spur futile hope and expectations again?”

 

“No, I wasn’t able to find closure,” said Kara quietly. “That’s why I chose to walk away again.”

 

“Zino was a man of conviction. He chose to walk away for a reason. And because of that reason, he would never look back on his decision. He will stay dead,” said Leiyun. “Unlike me. I refused to die, you know. The world wanted me dead, and yet, I came back.”

 

“Don’t be dramatic,” said Kara. “It’s clear that you’ve always been surrounded by those who love you.”

 

“You’re unusually gentle with me today,” remarked Leiyun. 

 

Glancing down at the makeshift bandage around his palm, Kara murmured, pressing Leiyun’s hand to her cheek, “Musician’s hands are insured you know. Don’t hurt yourself.”

 

Leiyun smiled crookedly. “How rare, are you worrying for me?”

 

“No, I’m worrying for your precious play director. She would panic should she lose her conductor.”

 

“Silly, conductors don’t need their hands.”

 

“Yes, you conduct with that potty-mouth of yours,” replied Kara. “You would be so princely, if you learned to keep your mouth shut. You are such a nag.”

 

Erika chuckled. Leiyun indeed was a nag—worse than her own brother in fact.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

The rest of Sakura’s Alliance dispersed, but Mizuki Kaho smiled at the glimpse of a handsome, tall black-haired man with his hands in his old university letterman jacket, leaned against the tree in front of the Tsukimine Shrine. She remarked, “That’s rare of you to wait for me here. Just like old days.”

 

“I got the message the alliance might be tracking down a potential force,” said Touya. “I was just passing by.”

 

“But you didn’t join us?” asked Kaho. “Or you couldn’t?”

 

“I had another fight with Sakura,” said Touya. “Over something ridiculous. It’s like she’s going through a rebellious stage.”

 

Chucking to herself, Kaho said, “Rather, hasn’t Sakura always been a bit rebellious since she was a kid? Sneaking out in the middle of the night to catch Clow Cards, using the Mirror Card to duplicate herself—as if that would work on you. Keeping Kero-chan in the house for all those years. Trying to hide Yukito’s alter ego from you. It’s just, she’s not little anymore so you can’t bully her around anymore, that’s all.”

 

“You make me sound like the ogre,” grumbled Touya. “I don’t know who put it in her head to get serious about modeling.”

 

“What’s wrong with modeling? Your mother was a model too.”

 

Touya replied, “Mother had to model to support our family—both her and my father were disowned by their families. My dad was a newbie teacher with a meager starting salary and he went off to marry his student and then they had me when she was only 17.”

 

Kaho said, “Touya, do you think she modeled just to earn a living? I have seen her pictures—you’ve showed me many before. She was smiling from her heart. She not only had a talent but enjoyed her job. That’s why she did it.”

 

Touya murmured, “Because she knew she had a death sentence, and pictures she thought were the only way to be remembered when she was gone.”

 

And Kaho turned to Touya. “That’s it. That’s why you don’t want Sakura to get into modeling. Silly boy. Sakura’s reasons are completely different. If that’s what she wants to do, you shouldn’t hold her back but support her—or she might end up resenting you for it.”

 

“I know!” replied Touya. “I know that, but that doesn’t mean I approve! She could have at least told me her thoughts—it’s like she doesn’t trust me with anything.”

 

Kaho said, “But if she told you, you would have told her not to do it.”

 

“Any sensible brother would say the same,” replied Touya with a scowl. “It’s nerve-wracking as is having a cute younger teenage sister as is without putting her on display for the world to see.”

 

“But you can’t treat her like a child forever,” Kaho said softly. “You know best how frustrating that is.”

 

“Yes, I do,” said Touya coldly.   

 

Kaho stared up at the green leaves of the Sakura tree. “Do you remember nine years ago, when I told you I was going to study abroad in England, you didn’t tell me not to go.”

 

“How could I?” he replied. “You were an adult. You had everything all planned. I was only a middle schooler. You would have still gone even if I asked you to stay. And I didn’t want to be the child throwing a tantrum.”

 

Kaho remarked, “But if you asked me to, I would have stayed.”

 

Touya stared down at her. “No you wouldn’t have. You told me only a day before you were about to leave. You made the decision on your own and didn’t let me in, till the end.”

 

“You were mad at me then because I didn’t tell you,” said Kaho. “I could see it in your eyes. You were hurt. Yet, you stayed calm. That’s what I liked about you. You were so dependable, even at that age.”

 

“Well, you told me that you didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to worry,” replied Touya. “What could I respond to that with? Obviously I would have worried, I would have tried to stop you, perhaps.”

 

Kaho looked up at him. “And didn’t you think maybe I didn’t tell you because of that reason? And that would have weakened my resolve to do what I knew I must do. It would have made things even harder for me than it had been.”

 

In the past nine years since they had separated, Touya had never thought Kaho might have had a hard time then. For she had always been the adult, and he, the student who could never catch up to her, his teacher. If he had asked her to stay, would she have? Maybe she would have. But she would eventually grown to have resent him for that. “Okay, fine, I’ll support Sakura. I’ll try to have an adult conversation with her. But that doesn’t mean I approve of it.”

 

“I wish the rest of the parent-teacher conferences goes this well,” remarked Kaho sunnily. “Parents’ expectation of what they want from their child frightens me.”

 

“So, this was a parent-teacher conference to you? So much for being good friends or something next time we meet. Well, after all you are the woman who trampled all over my feelings when I was a teenager,” he said with a crooked smile.

 

Kaho remarked, “Well, you were my first boyfriend. Though I was not your first.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“Don’t look surprised. I did my research, and I know you dated around a bit before you met me.”

 

He paled. “Where did you hear that?”

 

“I have my sources,” replied Kaho with a little smile. “You looked so serious and sincere, but you had a deceptive side to you as well.”

 

“I was young and stupid then!” exclaimed Touya. “I was going through a rebellious stage and wasn’t serious about anyone. Before you, of course.”

 

“Yes, to your credit, I heard that once you entered high school, you turned around a new leaf,” said Kaho. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell on you to your precious Yuki.”

 

“I forgot you’ve always had a mischievous streak.”

 

And she tip-toped on her feet to pat him on the head like old days. “And you were always a good boy.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Jinyu was surprised to find Erika sitting on the parlor couch of the Li mansion, as if she had been waiting for him.

 

She spun around and saw that it was Jinyu. “You’re finally back. Good.”

 

“You were waiting for me?””

 

“Yes.” She shoved the script into his hands. “We’re going to practice.”

 

“Practice?”

 

“Yes, practice your lines for Cinderella.”

 

Jinyu stared at her blankly.

 

“Don’t just stare at me. Turn to Act 1 Scene 3, where you make your first appearance,” she ordered.  

 

“Are you okay?” asked Jinyu. “You must have breathed in quite a lot of smoke yesterday and last time at the rehearsal.”

 

“Yes, I’m fine,” said Erika impatiently. “Jingmei said there’s no damage done. This whole fire business likely happened because you are terrible as the Prince, so pay attention! Here, I’ll read Cinderella’s lines and you respond.”

 

And Jinyu did seem to try his best to read his lines in between checking text messages from Hong Kong. If the affairs of the other night bothered him much, he had recovered quite well. She did not know what to make of Fuutie’s outburst at him, or what to think of this elusive White Tiger figure. So, she refused to think about it at all.

 

Finally, Erika wrangled her hands in despair and declared, “You are horrible! I know Japanese isn’t your first language, but can you be any more stilted? I mean, aren’t you supposed to be a mafia boss? How do you get by with such lack of communication skills? Or do you just pull the trigger on anyone who doesn’t understand you?”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Huh?” Erika blinked at him, for he truly sounded remorseful. “I mean, there’s no need to apologize because you suck at acting. This is for your own good, after all. And my good. I don’t want to be associated with a play that is a flop—and it is looking dangerously close to being a flop with you as the Prince and Eron as Cinderella, despite Tomoyo’s eccentric direction and Eriol’s somewhat intriguing script.”

 

“I have never been in a play before,” Jinyu said.

 

“Well, it’s not like I’ve in a play before Star-Crossed back in junior high,” replied Erika. “But you’ve watched plays before, haven’t you?”

 

He shook his head.

 

“Oh god, I forgot that you were an android with no life,” groaned Erika. “I mean, it’s not like we have enough time to give you Acting 101 classes. Have you even watched a movie before? I thought Leiyun said you have a great memory—why can’t you remember the lines?”

 

He stared down at his feet, silent.

 

She wracked her brains for a moment. “Okay, let’s stick with what you are good at then. You are the Dragon King of the Hong Kong Underworld. So of course you are used to all this royalty business—I mean, you’re the closest thing to a monarch in this world that I know of. Now, to get into character, you are on a mission. There is a priceless glass slipper, and you have to return it to its owner. Cinderella.”

 

Erika grilled him over and over again, and to Jinyu’s credit, he took it without a word of complaint. They actually made it through a pretty smooth reading, granted Jinyu said his lines in the same monotonous tone from beginning to end. But he seemed to be less lost on the concept of a fairytale, now that he took it on as some sort of mission. “Good job! See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Though it had taken a toll on her, and Erika was sure she had dark circles drooping to her cheeks.

 

He stared down at her solemnly. “You’re good at this. You like this? Acting?”

 

Erika shrugged. “It’s all right. You see, when I was at the orphanage, my body was weak so I couldn’t go out and play with all the other kids. So I was usually stuck indoors, alone all the time. Eron tried to play with me, but he couldn’t always be around. He had to go to kindergarten, and he liked to play outdoors. So, I had to amuse myself on my own. I only had a doll he bought me to play with, and I liked to playact. Create fairytales for myself. It may sound silly but I’m sure you boys played warrior or action heroes or something at that age. I would play princess and make up fairy stories in my head. It wasn’t too hard to do so. After all, heroes and heroines of fairytales were often poor orphans spurned by the world like Eron and me.” Then it occurred to Erika that Jinyu might have been orphaned at an early age too, if rumors were true.

 

“So, what was your favorite story?” asked Jinyu slowly. “This Cinderella?”

 

“No,” replied Erika. “I’m not one to sit around and wait for a prince to hand me a glass slipper. My favorite was Hansel and Gretel. You’ve never heard of that either, right? It’s the story of a boy and a girl who is abandoned in the woods by their father and their evil stepmother. They are then trapped in a witch’s gingerbread cottage, and the witch makes Gretel a slave and tries to fatten up Hansel to eat him. But they push the witch into the oven and escape with all her jewels. They go back home to their father—the evil stepmother was already dead, and they lived happily ever after.”

 

“That’s a rather macabre story. Is it really a children’s fairytale?” asked Jinyu. “Why was that your favorite? And why did this Hansel and Gretel go back to the father who abandoned them to die?”

 

Erika smiled wistfully. “Maybe as a little girl, I still hoped my father who had abandoned me would come back and take Eron and me back, tell us it was all a big mistake.”

 

“Why did he leave?” asked Jinyu.

 

She tensed up. “Probably because we never should have been born in the first place. All I know is that our Uncle Reiji—our birth father’s twin brother—raised us until he died. Then, we were sent off to the orphanage.”

 

“Your mother?”

 

“She died giving birth to us,” said Erika. “I used to think maybe that is why our father didn’t want us. Maybe he thought we caused her death.”

 

Jinyu stared at her silently, perhaps out of pity.

 

It’s all right. Uncle Reiji raised us for one year, at least until he died. At least Uncle Reiji, I believe, must have cared for us a little bit. I used to wish he was our father. I guess he was the best father we had, under the circumstances.” Erika paused. “What about you? Where are you parents?”

 

My mother died when I was around eight,” said Jinyu slowly. “I probably would have too, if Leiyun did not take me in.”

 

“What about your father?” asked Erika, pushing the boundaries.

 

“I don’t know,” said Jinyu. “I never really knew him.”

 

Erika laughed. “I guess Fuutie’s theory about Leiyun is right. He really likes to collect orphans, riffraff, and misanthropes. Well, I guess it’s better not knowing your father than to have one that tries to kill you.” She noticed Jinyu glance up at the door and turned around. Leiyun was standing by the doorway silently.

 

His silvery blue eyes met hers, and his lips curled into a thin smile. “Do you know why my father wanted to kill me in the first place, Erika?”

 

Filling a chill to her bones, she stared at the gaudy print of the rug. It seemed implied that Li Wutai had been the one to send his own son to a death mission but no one had ever really confirmed it.

 

Leiyun continued, “It’s because he was afraid that I would kill him, as the prophets said.”

 

“Would you have?” Erika found herself asking.

 

“Maybe,” he replied. “If he got in the way.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Sakura glanced out the library window cranked open to let in the warm breeze to an interesting sight. Erika, script rolled up in hand, was with the dark and brooding Li Jinyu, taking shade from a large oak tree,

 

Erika scolded, shaking her finger at him, “No, you are supposed to say, ‘Do you want to dance?’ holding out your hand and bowing. You just saw Cinderella, the love of your life, show up to the ball. She’s the most beautiful girl you have ever seen, and all you can see is her. Each second you can be with her is precious, because the spell will break at midnight.”

 

Again and again, Jinyu repeated the line until she was satisfied.

 

“Now, Cinderella is trying to leave. The love of your life is trying to get away. You don’t know her real name, where she lives, if you will ever see her again. How would you be feeling?” asked Erika.

 

“Feeling?” Jinyu blinked slowly. “I don’t know.”

 

“You’ve got to show desperation, because the moment she slips from your hands, you may lose her forever,” said Erika. “That is what the glass slipper represents to you, your last connection to her. It’s the key to reaching her again, so when you hold up the slipper Cinderella has dropped, you have to express dismay, as well as determination and hope.”

 

“What amuses you so much?” asked Tomoyo, watching Sakura chuckle to herself as she stared out the window.

 

“I’ve never seen Erika-chan work so hard at anything before,” remarked Sakura. “It’s not even her role, yet she’s helping out Jinyu-san. It’s quite an unexpected pairing.”

 

“I thought Jinyu-senpai seems to be doing better with his lines as of late,” said Tomoyo. “Erika is surprisingly dedicated. She played a marvelous Rosalind back in junior high—she should join the drama club.” 

 

Sakura smiled slightly. “I always thought Erika was a bit frivolous. But she’s always serious when she puts her mind to something. Even when we were candy-striping at Kinhoshi Hospital, I was impressed at how dedicated and professional she was.”

 

“Yeah, she was pretty impressive, arranging the release of all the hostages during the shutdown of the Li Group Japan headquarters last time,” remarked Meilin.

 

“And she’s pretty patient, seeing as she’s actually getting Jinyu-senpai to learn some of his lines,” remarked Tomoyo. “Something even I couldn’t do.” 

 

“Oh no, Sakura-chan has that gleam in her eye,” muttered Meilin.

 

Kai interjected, “Forget it, Erika will never join the Alliance of the Stars.”

 

“Why not?” asked Meilin. “Even you joined it. And Eron too.”

 

“Erika has no reason to join,” said Kai. “I joined because I’m an idiot, and Eron joined because he’s an even bigger idiot.”

 

“Who are you calling an idiot?” asked Eron with a scowl, taking a peek out the window at his twin sister actually having the nerve to whack the Black Dragon on the back of his head with a rolled up script, something he had been dying to do all week long. The others winced along with him.

 

“Do you think his pistol is loaded today?” Meilin whispered to Kai.

 

“I don’t know. Maybe we should skip rehearsal this afternoon,” replied Kai. “Poor Eron—I think we’re practicing the ballroom scene today, right Tomoyo.”

 

“Yup!” said Tomoyo sweetly. “We got the auditorium again today. Reparations have gone completely smoothly. And wonderful Sakura-chan added in the trap door that I wanted even without me asking her!”

 

With a sigh, Meilin said, “I really do hope that Fuutie and Shiefa leave before the Cultural Festival. They’ll ruin everything if they come.” 

 

Miho remarked, chin leaned against her palm, “Syaoran-senpai’s sisters really are something.”

 

“You haven’t seen the younger two—they are the more extreme pair,” remarked Meilin. “And the four of them together…” She trailed off and shuddered.

 

Tomoyo glanced over at Syaoran, who was flipping through binders of what looked like tax accounts in the corner of the library—he wasn’t even making a pretense of working on school work anymore. “Syaoran-kun looks even more tired. Is he all right?”

 

“The Li Group Japan branch’s board of trustees meeting this weekend,” said Meilin. “He has to make a presentation, so he’s completely swamped. Dairen’s been threatening him to make an impactful first impression, and I’m not sure if Syaoran’s ever had to make any presentation before.”

 

“What’s the trustee meeting?” asked Miho.

 

“A business delegation from the Li Group headquarters in Hong Kong flew in to discuss about business plans for the third quartile. Which is why Fuutie and Shiefa are here in the first place. As you know, we’ve had some horrible losses with the Great Elder’s death, plummeting stocks and the damage on our Japan HQ’s building from the altercation with the Wu Clan. Of course, since Syaoran is here, it’s his responsibility to attend the board of trustees meeting and reassure old the board members that everything is going smoothly.” Meilin trailed off, taking a worried glance at Syaoran.  

 

“So, what’s the problem?” asked Miho.

 

Meilin sighed. “He doesn’t know anything about business, only about fighting dark forces and strategizing for battle. He’s unsociable by nature, and nobody’s going to take him seriously because he’s still a kid. And he’s already swamped with Great Elder training as already is, not to mention school chores like career planning, the cultural festival and whatnot. And now he has to deal with the trustees who are of course going to judge him and tear him apart.”

 

“Poor Syaoran-kun,” sighed Tomoyo. “It’s not easy being the Great Elder, is it? He must have a lot on his mind at the moment with the corporate spy leaking sensitive information from the Li group and the upcoming board members meeting.”

 

“Corporate spy? I didn't know about that,” said Sakura. She wondered how it was that Tomoyo always seemed to know about Syaoran than she did. Even back in elementary school she remembered that the two of them would be engaged in intense conversation and would suddenly hush up when she entered the room.

 

“He consulted my mother about a secure firewall for the Li Group, and I just happened to overhear,” said Tomoyo, as if reading her mind. In a softer voice, she continued, “See, it doesn't feel nice to hear about important news from a third party does it?”

 

Interest piqued, Miho asked, “So did they catch the hacker? Or do you have any suspects? ”

 

“No, they weren’t able to track down who it was yet,” replied Meilin. “But last week, Tang Corp. cut in on a semiconductor deal that Dairen had been working on for months—he was furious. Syaoran says there is a high chance the Tang Clan set the corporate spy, but there’s no way of knowing.”

 

Tomoyo remarked, “Well, it’s too bad the board meeting coincides with your High School Prefectural Gymnastics Meet this weekend. He could probably use your help.”

 

Meilin’s lips curved into a surreptitious smile. “Oh no, you’re right! I’ll be away all weekend for the gymnastic meet. Who will look after Syaoran and be his manager?”

 

“I’m sure Syaoran-senpai can take care of himself—he’s a big boy,” snickered Miho.

 

Meilin glared at Miho, and the younger girl covered her mouth. Clearing her throat, Meilin said woefully, “Syaoran these days doesn’t even eat unless someone forces him to sit down for a meal. And his schedule will be so jam packed, somebody needs to be by his side and make sure he doesn’t work himself to death. What I am most worried about is that he’s been having such a hard time sleeping. I don’t feel good about leaving him. Maybe, I should just drop out of the tournament.”

 

“You can’t,” Tomoyo pointed out. “You’re the vice captain of the Seijou High Girls’ Gymnastics Team.”

 

“Yes, the girls will be awfully disappointed if I dropped out because we actually might have a chance to make it to the Kanto Regionals this year,” said Meilin. “But of course, Syaoran comes first. Unless…”

 

“Unless?” Tomoyo asked.

 

“Unless someone can take my place just for the three days I am away for the tournament,” said Meilin extra loudly.

 

Miho blinked. “But who can do that?”

 

“Someone who is familiar with Syaoran, of course, since we all know how much of a grouch he is with strangers. Someone who will not get on his nerves, because he’s very tense these days. And preferably someone who’s lived with him before, because it has to be someone who can stick around with him 24/7 to make sure he sleeps properly and eats all three meals,” said Meilin, staring blatantly at Sakura.

 

“Hoe, are you talking to me?” asked Sakura, finally looking up from her novel.

 

“Of course. Who else would I be able to entrust Syaoran with?” said Meilin.

 

“What about Kai-kun? I mean, he’s right next doors, so it would be pretty easy for him to check in.” Sakura said.

 

“Kai?” Meilin snorted. “Knowing Kai, it’d be lucky if Syaoran is not the one doing the cooking and cleaning and watching over of that delinquent.”

 

Miho nodded knowingly. “And I’m sure they’ll fight within an hour of being around each other. Onii-chan is impossible to live with.”

 

“How about Wei-san?” asked Sakura.

 

“Do you know how busy he is at the main house right now, catering to Leiyun, Fuutie and Shiefa?” responded Meilin.

 

“I don’t think I can be of much help to Syaoran,” said Sakura weakly.

 

Meilin put her hand on Sakura’s shoulder. “Leave things to me. I’ll train you thoroughly before I leave.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Meilin trudged out of her room to the living room with her over-packed duffel bag at the break of dawn Friday morning. “Syaoran, I’m leaving now.”

 

Syaoran, coming back from his morning jog, asked, “Are you immigrating? I thought you’ll just be gone for the weekend?”

 

“I’m a girl. I have a lot of things I need,” replied Meilin. “There’s a pot of beef stew in the fridge that you can heat up for dinner. I’ve tidied up your itinerary and set it here on the kitchen counter for your temporary manager to take over.”  

 

“Temporary manager?” he repeated.

 

Meilin looked at the kitchen clock. The door bell rang. Grinning, she ran to the front door. “Welcome! You’re just in time!”

 

Syaoran’s jaw dropped as Sakura, in her school uniform, stepped in with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and Wolfie-chan cradled in her other arm. She set down the duffel bag at the door and the tan-furred puppy jumped onto the floor and ran around Syaoran’s feet, yipping joyfully.  

 

Meilin turned around, with her chin jutted out. “Sakura’s going to be staying here for the next three days as your manager.”

 

“I don’t need a manager,” protested Syaoran.

 

“Sure you do,” replied Meilin, pointing to several stacks of paper that came up to her height around the living room. “How are you going to get through all those accounts all on your own?” She glanced at the clock. “Oh no, I’m going to be late! Kai!”

 

The Thief of the Night popped up from next doors, swinging a key-ring around his forefinger. “Whoa, and are you immigrating or something? I guess it’s car today, Meilin-sama?”

 

Rolling her eyes, Meilin turned to Sakura. “You can of course use my room, same as before. The itinerary is on the kitchen counter. You’ll have to do groceries at one point—we’re out of milk and eggs. The board meeting is at 9 a.m. Sunday, but Syaoran has to get there an hour early to be debriefed by the vice president of Li Group Japan. Remember to pick out his outfit the night before and iron his suit and shirt out the morning of, because he is very particular about presentation. Don’t let him wear the pink shirt though!”

 

“It’s my lucky shirt,” muttered Syaoran.

 

Meilin slapped Sakura on the back and said, “I’m leaving things to you now, Sakura-chan. I’m leaving now. See you Monday! Bye!”

 

Sakura thought she heard Kai ask Meilin, “Are they going to be okay?” as they walked off toward the elevator. Considering Kai was a late riser, it was nice of him to wake up early to give his girlfriend a ride to school. She felt a little envious that they were next door neighbors and able to head off to school together all the time like this.  

 

As the door shut behind them, Sakura found Syaoran staring at her. He finally said, “I can see Meilin talked you into this. It’s really okay. I don’t need a manager. You can go back.”

 

Sakura shook her. “I promised Meilin-chan to look after you.”

 

“I don’t need looking after,” Syaoran sighed in exasperation. “You know that. I know Meilin takes her role seriously, and I’m really grateful for it. She’s been very helpful. Though she’s always on my back, nagging at me nonstop. In fact, I was almost glad that she’s going to be gone over the weekend. So, there’s no reason for you to be here.”

 

“No, I pinky-swore with Meilin-chan. Three meals a day and to make sure you sleep.” Sakura stood her ground, hands on hips, lips pouted, as she glared up at Syaoran challengingly. “I’m staying.”

 

A single dark brow was arched as he met her gaze, his amber eyes glimmering golden. “Oh, really? Meilin was that worried about me.” He leaned over and bent over till his lips were near Sakura’s ears. “Of course, you can’t go back on your words then. I guess I will not refuse your offer then. Since you made a promise with Meilin.”

 

“G-good!” said Sakura, stepping back, her ear tingling from his breath. “W-what should we do first now. B-breakfast? Or those documents?” She pointed to the stack of papers.

 

“I’m sweaty from my morning jog. I’m going to shower,” replied Syaoran.

 

Sakura blinked up at him.

 

“You don’t have to help with that,” he added.

 

She flushed and swerved around robotically. “O-of course! I’ll prepare breakfast!”

 

When Syaoran walked into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, rubbing a towel over his head, he found that Sakura had whipped up a mess per usual. “Hotcakes?”

 

“Yes,” Sakura replied, setting a plate in front of Syaoran. “They have bananas in them. For potassium.”

 

“Interesting,” Syaoran remarked, munching on the mushy hotcakes, infused with the sweetness of ripe bananas. He took a sip of the freshly squeezed orange juice.

 

Sakura watched him devour the hotcakes, not making a snide mention that the bottoms were burned, not even making a face at the seeds and rind ground into the orange juice. It was a familiar sight, Syaoran with his slightly damp hair, ends curled as it always did when it was wet. He was wearing pieces of his school uniform, the black trousers, and the button-down white shirt not yet tucked in. Since he was always so put together at school, she always enjoyed the glimpses of a ruffled, grumpy Syaoran at home.  

 

“Aren’t you eating?” asked Syaoran, setting down the newspaper.  

 

“I already ate at home,” replied Sakura.

 

“Oh.” Syaoran stared down at his empty plate. “I’ll do the dishes.”

 

“No—you finish getting ready,” said Sakura, coming and swooping up dishes.

 

As she dried the last plate, Syaoran came out, dressed in his sky blue blazer, book bag slung over a shoulder. “All right. Let’s head to school.”

 

“It’s still kind of early, isn’t it?” Sakura pointed out.

 

“Let’s walk.”

 

Sakura pointed to the stacks of paper. “Shouldn’t we be working at that?”

 

“Later.”

 

 

 

Walking to school from Syaoran’s apartment like this was very nostalgic. Sakura recollected that hot and humid summer, when she had lived with Syaoran, heading to school like this beside him. She had loved those quiet morning walks with him, enjoying the morning breeze and the fresh scent of trees. Syaoran never talked much, but he made sure not to walk too fast, always matching his pace to hers.

 

The Syaoran today was slightly taller, a little sterner than the boy of two summers ago. So much had happened since then, to both of them. To be able to walk to school like this, so naturally, was a treat that she would not even have expected would be possible last year, or even until a month ago.

 

“How rare,” remarked Naoko, who was in the empty classroom because she was on duty, when she saw Sakura and Syaoran walk in side by side. “Did you two come to school together?”

 

“W-we met at the gate,” stammered Sakura.

 

“Oh, I guess you are here early to see the girls’ gymnastic team leave,” said Naoko. “I think Meilin-chan said she takes off for the meet this morning.”

 

Kai walked into the classroom with a huge yawn, arms stretched above his head. “The bus just left.” He walked over to his seat and collapsed over his desk. “I don’t think I’ve ever come to school this early before.”

 

Naoko giggled. “You are such a dedicated boyfriend.”

 

“I know, right?” Kai said. “But Mei-chan doesn’t appreciate me one bit.” And he slung an arm over Syaoran’s shoulder and whined, “Syaoran, what am I going to do without Meilin all weekend. I’m bored already. Entertain me.”

 

Sakura chuckled to herself as Syaoran told the former thief straight-faced, “You’re probably going to drive up to the gymnastic meet before the weekend is over, anyway. And you need to stop parking your sports car in the faculty parking lot.”

 

And Naoko remarked to Sakura softly, “You and Meilin are lucky.”

 

“Why?” asked Sakura.

 

“I wish I can look upon some with those eyes,” said Naoko, eyes glimmering behind her round glasses. “Eyes of utter adoration.”

 

“I— wasn’t looking at Syaoran like that!” stammered Sakura.

 

“It’s a figurative way of speaking,” replied Naoko. “I’ve never been in love, so I can’t speak for myself. But I think if I were in love, I would never be able to take my eyes off of the one I cherish. Chiharu has Yamazaki-kun. Rika has Terada-sensei. And you have Li-kun. It must be a nice feeling. It makes me wonder, when I will be able to find my special one.”

 

“Naoko-chan, there will definitely be that special person out there,” said Sakura. “Because you are a super special person too.” It was true. Naoko was probably one of the cleverest of her friends, perhaps with insight almost on par with Tomoyo at times.

 

“I don’t know,” said Naoko. “I always thought by the time I got to high school, I would have found someone. But none of our classmates appeal to me—maybe because we’ve grown up with most of them.”

 

Sakura smiled. “That’s obviously because guys our own age just won’t suit your mental level, Naoko. You’ve always said you wanted a mysterious foreigner to sweep you off your feet. And he will definitely appear, someday.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Sunlight streamed in between the cracks of the curtain, and Kinomoto Sakura woke up from bed with a start to an unfamiliar room. The Egyptian cotton sheets, a spring green color, was cool against her skin, and she hugged the plaid olive and white duvet to her chest, whiffing in a familiar scent of detergent. It was Syaoran's room, Syaoran's bed, Syaoran's scent. When did she end up in his room, in his bed? In alarm, she racked her brains back to the previous night. That’s right, she was his manager for the weekend. They had come home after school pretty late because of another disastrous orchestra practice and had a quick dinner of beef stew. She had been helping Syaoran color code and label clear files into the wee hours of the night, and she must have dozed off, for that was the last memory she had, of her face smashed up against stacks of paper. But then, how did she end up in here, and where was Syaoran? Her eyes flitted to the clock on the nightstand—it was past noon!

 

She leaped up from the bed and ran out into the living room, hair disheveled. She tugged on her loose t-shirt to straighten it as Syaoran came out from the kitchen with a platter of eggs frittata with melted cheese and vegetables. Glancing up at her, he said, "Oh good, you are up. I was afraid the food may get cold. Wash up—the bacon's almost fried up."

 

Sakura was at loss of words as Syaoran carried to the dining table platters of eggs, bacon, potato wedges, sliced up assorted fruits, freshly baked buns with creamy butter and raspberry jam on the side, and a pitcher of freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. "When did you have time to make all of this?" she asked.

 

“Did I get carried away?" asked Syaoran sheepishly. "I wasn’t sure what you would want to eat. You don't have to finish it all."

 

“Sorry, I think I fell asleep last night before I finished with the labels,” said Sakura. The buttery scent of the buns made her salivate.

 

Sipping on a cup of freshly brewed black coffee, Syaoran replied, “No worries, you were nearly done with it, and I finished the rest up."

 

Sakura glanced over at the living room and found the clear files neatly stacked up in one corner. “But that's what I came here for!" she exclaimed aghast. “And did you even sleep last night?” What a dumb question—she had been sleeping in his bed. “Your bed! How did I—” She couldn't bring herself to ask if she went to sleep in his room by mistake and kept him from his own bed.

 

He chuckled and poured Sakura a glass of juice. “I thought you might drool over my documents which you were conveniently using as a pillow if I left you in the living room. I just put you in the nearest room—my room—because you're not that light.”

 

At this, Sakura gasped at the double-blow. She drooled in her sleep and was heavy! Cheeks flushed, she gulped down the icy juice and gasped again. “This is delicious. What's in here?”

 

“It's my special health blend for immunity since you looked a bit under the weather,” replied Syaoran. “Do you like it? It's grapefruit juice blended with grapes, apple, ginger and cucumber with a dash of lemon. Oh, try the buns.”

 

Sakura stuffed the warm bread into her mouth. It was fluffy, buttery and milky, like heaven on her tongue. “It's so good.”

 

“I tried out a new recipe that I learned at La Seine and never got a chance to try out,” replied Syaoran.

 

She was famished since she had missed breakfast and began stuffing her face with the feast in front of her when she looked up mid-bite and saw that Syaoran was watching her eat, bemused, occasionally sipping on coffee.

 

“Aren't you eating?” asked Sakura.

 

“I picked on this and that while I was cooking,” was his reply.

 

That was what mothers said to their children, Sakura thought sourly. Nonetheless, she devoured the platters of food, and volunteered to do the dishes. As she scrubbed the cups and plates, berating herself for not only falling asleep last night and sleeping in this morning, but also making Syaoran cook for her. Syaoran was the type of person who would clean up as he cooked, so there were few dishes to clean and dry. By the time she returned to the living room, she found Syaoran vacuuming the rug as Wolfie-chan chased after him, tail wagging so hard it became a blur.

 

“I'll do it!” exclaimed Sakura.

 

"I'm almost finished—just take Wolfie-chan out of the way and go sit over there on the couch." And Sakura did as told, tucking her leg underneath her, holding Wolfie-chan to her so that he wouldn't jump out and tangle himself with the electric cords. Staying out of the way, she watched Syaoran, the Great Elder of the Li Clan who had his major debut with the Li Group board of trustees tomorrow, nonchalantly vacuum the apartment.

 

That's right, the board meeting. “Syaoran, let me know what we have to get done today. Meilin's notes said that we have this year’s January to May files to review still, and that we need to run through your presentation tomorrow and time it.”

 

“Yup,” said Syaoran, absentmindedly opening up the fridge in the kitchen. “Sakura, what do you want for dinner? I used up all the ingredients for breakfast. Or was that considered lunch?”

 

“I'll go grocery shopping!” exclaimed Sakura. “Just give me a list of all the things you need.”

 

But Syaoran replied, “I can't think of it off the top of my head. Let's go together.”

 

She was about to protest, but thought it would do good for him to get some fresh air, and it was so sunny and bright outside, it would be helpful for his circadian rhythm. So half an hour later, she found herself strolling beside Syaoran with a baseball cap, looking more casual than she had seen him as of late, in faded denim jeans and a navy cardigan layered over a striped white shirt. That's right, he had been in mourning since Great-Uncle Renshu's passing and had worn dark, somber colors for weeks afterward. Wolfie-chan skipped beside him happily, yapping at other dogs out on walks and sniffed tree trunks and shrubs curiously.

 

Grocery shopping at the nearby family mart with Syaoran came naturally—she'd pick the vegetables, he'd haggle with the fishmonger for the freshest king prawns; they'd get stalled when passing through the baking ingredients section. He wouldn't even let her carry the grocery bags, instead making her scoop up a drowsy Wolfie-chan. It was just like that summer they spent together.

 

“Oh it's drizzling!” exclaimed Sakura, palm to the sky, as they stepped outside.

 

Syaoran glanced up at the sky and remarked, “It looks like a passing shower. Why don't we stop by at the café over there and wait for it to clear up a bit. No point in getting Wolfie-chan soaked.”

 

She knew she should protest, but how often did she have a Saturday afternoon to sit in a café with Syaoran? And there he was sipping on his glass of melon soda, sitting with his legs crossed, a snoring Wolfie-chan snuggled on his lap, looking more carefree than she had ever recalled in the past year.

 

Their rare tranquil moment together was interrupted when a girl with air two red-brown high pigtails came into the shop with her arms linked to a tall boy with shortly cropped black hair.

 

“Sakura-chan! Li-kun!” exclaimed Chiharu with a wave of her hand. “Are you two on a date as well? We got caught up in the shower on the way to the movie theater.”

 

Sakura's ears reddened. “It's not a d-date.”

 

“We bumped into each other while grocery shopping,” said Syaoran glibly.

 

Sakura shot a quizzical look at Syaoran, wondering when he had gotten so nonchalant about lying.

 

“How cute, is that your dog, Li-kun?” asked Chiharu, pointing to Wolfie-chan. “He kind of looks like a little wolf cub.”

 

“He's Sakura's dog,” replied Syaoran, stroking the pup's back.

 

“And you're its papa,” remarked Takashi with a grin. “Now, speaking of canine creatures and their filial loyalty to their masters—”

 

“What should we order, Takashi?” asked Chiharu extra loudly, dragging over two extra chairs to join Sakura and Syaoran's table without any invitation. “So, how is orchestra practice going? I heard Li-sensei is quite the demon maestro? The senpai playing first cello came begging to Tomoyo-chan to be transferred to backdrop painting.”

 

“He's Syaoran's cousin though. They say blood runs thicker than wine,” said Takashi.

 

“Than water. Blood is thicker than water, you mean,” interjected Chiharu. “Li-sensei is very handsome and nice, but his atmosphere is completely different from our Li-kun.”

 

“Yet, there are moments when the two are uncannily similar,” said Takashi, who opened his hawk eyes for a split second. “Though their main difference is, I suppose, Li Syaoran is a straight-forward sort, while Li-sensei is gnarled up inside, like an ancient tree root. He'd be the Yggdrasil while Syaoran would be a young bamboo tree.”

 

To Syaoran's relief, the weather had cleared, and he set down cash, balanced the grocery bags in one hand, and grabbed Sakura by the wrist, dragging her along. Wolfie-chan, jolted awake, followed after them. “We're got to take off now.”

 

“Hoe, see you at school on Monday!” said Sakura, waving her other hand as Syaoran quickly ushered her out of the door.

 

“I wonder if the two of them are living together again,” remarked Chiharu, sipping on her milkshake. “We're near Li-kun's apartment, right?”

 

“It must be a weekend arrangement, since Meilin's out of town for the gymnastics tournament,” pointed out Takashi. “Haven't seen Syaoran look so relaxed in a long time. I guess they made up over whatever squabble they had the other week.”

 

Chiharu turned to her boyfriend and childhood best friend. “What did they fight about this time?”

 

“Chang Eron of course,” replied Takashi astutely. “Though neither of them seem to know that.”

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

It was half way through washing dishes for dinner, which had been a menu of scrumptious shrimp and asparagus pasta with tossed mixed green salad and a dessert of raspberry soufflé that Sakura realized that they hadn't cracked open a single folder all day long. She glanced at the clock. It was still early evening; if they worked hard surely they could make it.

 

“I'm full,” declared Syaoran. “I think I need to take a jog.”

 

Sakura gaped at Syaoran. "But the work?" Yet, it was true—there was no way they could get anything done with such a heavy stomach. "I'll go with you then."

 

To Sakura's chagrin, she was pretty winded as they jogged around the town, for Syaoran's concept of a jog was a full sprint, and while she might have been able to keep up with an elementary school Syaoran, she could not with the current high school one. To her dismay, as they reached the forest behind King Penguin Park, he suddenly halted and turned to her. "I heard you were training in martial arts under Meilin."

 

“Yes,” she replied.

 

“Well, we'll see how much you've improved since I last taught you.”

 

“Now?” she asked.

 

“I need a sparring partner, and Meilin's not here,” was his simple response.

 

It was far more nerve-wracking to be trained under Syaoran, as it always had been. But after a grueling hour of punches, kicks, blocks and stretching, he declared, “Well, Meilin's been doing a good job, hasn't she? You've improved a lot.”

 

“Yes, Meilin-chan's a patient and thorough teacher,” replied Sakura.

 

“Yes,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “Unlike me.”

 

Sakura should have protested, but couldn’t deny this fact.

 

“Has she taught you defense when the attacker comes from behind?” asked Syaoran. He slinked up behind her and locked an arm around her neck, other hand tripping her hand so she could not budge. “I guess not.”

 

Sakura’s heart was thumping so hard at the sudden proximity that she didn’t even hear his next series of explanations.

 

“Okay, jab your elbow into the assailant, and when attacked from behind, then take the arm and twist it behind his head,” he told her. His warm breath tickled the back of her neck. “Sakura, are you listening?”

 

Sakura was sore to the bones by the time they returned to the apartment. She mindlessly guzzled down a bottle of water, wondering how they will ever be able to finish the rest of the files, and if Syaoran was ready for his presentation tomorrow. Tomorrow! In two hours, it would be tomorrow. And her eyes fell upon a square white box, with an untied green-and-striped ribbon to the side, sitting atop the kitchen counter. She shouldn’t look, but she was curious what had been in Tomoyo’s box which did not contain a cherry pie after all. While she wouldn’t touch it if it were in his room, it was lying out here on the counter, in plain view. And the ribbon was already untied. Surely she could just take a peek, and Syaoran wouldn’t know. With a trembling hand, she reached over and flipped open the lid just the slightest bit.

 

“What are you looking at?” came a dangerously soft whisper in her ears.

 

Sakura nearly let out a squeal and was afraid to turn around, as she quickly snatched away her hand. Because he was standing right behind her, trapping her against the counter, she could not inch away. “I was just… I was just. I thought it was…”

 

“What did you think it was?” Syaoran, freshly out of the shower, still had damp hair, and she felt a droplet of water trickle from his bangs down her neck. “Go ahead. Look.”

 

“No, it’s okay,” she said, turning around, and finding it to be a mistake, for he would not budge, and she was now facing his chest squarely. He had changed into a loose cream-colored shirt, baring his collarbones, and soft green flannel pajama bottoms.

 

“Open it,” he said.

 

Because she was sure he would not budge unless she obliged, Sakura reached over and flipped the box lid open. It was empty.

 

His lips curled into a sardonic smiled. “Silly Sakura, if you are still hungry, I can bake you a pie, if you want. Any kind you wish for.”

 

“No thank you,” said Sakura, suddenly feeling foolish and increasingly uncomfortable as Syaoran still refused to move away. He reached over, and she nearly bent over backwards against the kitchen counter. But he had only reached over to grab the bottle of water she had just set down. And she found herself clinging onto the edge of the counter with both hands to regain her train of thoughts.

 

Sipping water, he said to her, “What are you standing there for? I filled the tub for you. It'll be good to soak up in hot water so that you don't get sore tomorrow—I made you go through an intense drill today.”

 

She could not protest, since the water was already filled, and he had even put some aromatic rose-scented salts in the tub—apparently Fuutie's favorite. When he wasn't bullying her, he had always been very detail-oriented and considerate to the point of exasperating her. The water was just the right temperature, not too hot but not lukewarm, a temperature that could only be maintained through a magic spell. Wafts of floral scent and Syaoran's favorite minty shampoo filled her nose. She sank deeper into the tub, thinking how wonderful life was.

 

Until she woke up with a start, some time later, realizing the water had started to cool. Judging by the shriveled prune-like state of her skin, she must have dozed off for a good hour. She quickly rinsed off, dressed herself in crisp pink ruffled pajamas, and ran over to Syaoran's room to find he was working at his desk, most likely reviewing his presentation tomorrow.

 

“Good, you are out. I was getting worried that you might have drowned in the tub and was debating whether or not I had to go check on you," he remarked.

 

And Sakura stared back at the stacks of untouched files in the living room in utter dismay. "How can you joke at a time like this? We didn’t do any work all day long!”

 

Syaoran smiled. “Don’t worry. I have everything prepared already.”

 

“B-but Meilin said you had to review all those accounts before tomorrow!” exclaimed Sakura, pointing to the mountains for paper surrounding the desk.

 

Syaoran bit his lips. “Sakura. Those are all documents that I’ve already sorted through—see over there—those are accounts from last year. Those are from two years ago. Those are from three years. That stack over there are questionable financial transactions. And this binder here has a summary of all the most recent accounts, dated and color-coded.”

 

Sakura slumped down on her knees. “Then why in the world did Meilin send me here? I’m useless.”

 

Syaoran bent down next to her. “No you aren’t. Don’t you see? Meilin knew I needed a distraction before the board meeting, or else I’ll be stressing over it all weekend long. I’ve been preparing for this meeting all month long and done all that I can do. The rest is up to how the board members accept me. The most important thing is you’ve helped me relax, eat all three meals, and sleep regular hours, okay?”

 

And Sakura finally grinned. “Roger. I’ll make sure I’m of use to you tomorrow at least!”

 

“Yes, go get some sleep now. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day,” he told her.

 

But Sakura first ironed Syaoran’s dress shirt, and was mighty proud of how crisply it had turned out. She paired it with a sky blue and silver necktie that she thought would offset his brown hair best, rather enjoying the process. When her father had an important seminar or lecture, he would let her choose his tie for him, telling her it always brought him luck.

 

Because she spotted the light was on in Syaoran’s room, and it was well past midnight, she tiptoed to his door and peeked in a little while later. She found him in his dark green plaid pajamas, typing away on his laptop at his desk, with Wolfie-chan curled up at his feet.

 

“You’ve got to stop working and sleep now,” said Sakura, after a single knock. “We have to wake up early tomorrow.”

 

Syaoran shrugged. “I can’t fall asleep at this time anyway. Might as well get some work done.”

 

Sakura frowned. This wouldn’t do. She had promised Meilin to make sure Syaoran got at least six hours of sleep. “I will make you some steamed honey milk.”

 

“I’m not feeling sick,” replied Syaoran with a wry smile.

 

But Sakura has scrambled to the kitchen to find a pot.

 

She brought back a steaming mug to Syaoran’s room. “Thanks,” he mumbled, not looking up from his laptop.

 

“In bed,” she commanded.

 

With a sigh, Syaoran shut his laptop and sat down on the bed. She placed the warm blue mug in his hand. “Now, drink.”

 

He sipped the creamy, sweet concoction. “I taste a bit of nutmeg.”

 

Sakura nodded. “Since you’re not sick or anything, I added some spices.”

 

Syaoran downed the hot drink rather quickly, because Sakura was watching over him. He set the mug down on the nightstand. “Okay, I’ll sleep soon. You can go and rest—you’ll have a long day tomorrow too.”

 

She shook her head. “I’m going to watch you fall asleep first.” Syaoran almost smiled until she added, “I promised Meilin as your assistant.”

 

He raised a brow again. “How dutiful of you. Well, then, come sit here on the bed instead of standing over me like that—it’s rather making me feel nervous.”

 

“I’ll sit over here,” said Sakura, pointing to Syaoran’s desk chair.

 

“No, I can’t see your face in the dark. Come sit here.” He scooted over and patted to the spot beside him. His eyes glowed a warm orange in the dim light of the nightstand.

 

Sakura tentatively sat down on the corner of the bed, on top of the plaid green cover. She suddenly recalled that thunderous summer night two years ago. It was the first time he had told her about his cousin Leiyun. It had been the moment she had felt closest to him, that he had felt the most vulnerable to her. And yet, she had felt so safe beside him, during the ranging thunderstorm.

 

She had been so happy that he had opened up to her, as he did once in a while when they were alone. Like that time during the beach trip in elementary school when they were sitting by the seaside at night, or that time when they were locked in to dungeon of her Aunt Fujiko’s lover three winters ago. Her memory was pretty fuzzy from that sweltering hot summer night, but she recalled him asking her, “Is that all you ever want to be to me? Just a good friend?”

 

It was that moment she had truly pondered the meaning of being something more with Syaoran. She had watched his sleeping face in silence with that very question. It was the question she had asked herself over and over again that summer.

 

“Do you remember that night of the thunderstorm?” Syaoran said suddenly.

 

Sakura gulped. “W-which one?”

 

“Two summers ago, right here,” said Syaoran, looking up at her. “You told me its okay not to be perfect, to let down my guard once in a while.”

 

“D-did I?”

 

“It’s the first time anyone told me it’s okay to be less than perfect. All my life, I’ve been told anything less than perfect means I am a failure. That was the pressure that was always put on me, to be the best of the best, so that I can become the Chosen One. So that I can fill my father’s shoes.” He paused. “And it got me thinking, for whom I have worked so hard for all my life.”

 

Sakura smiled slightly. “You haven’t changed much. You’re still a perfectionist. And you still don’t show your emotions. I think you’ve gotten worse about it, actually.”

 

“Not to you,” said Syaoran. “Not to you. You are the one person I can open up to, and just be. And you accept that side of me. I can trust you and share my problems and worries with you. Because you’ve been a good friend to me all these years, even though I may not always have been to you.”

 

The exact words she had used on him that night: “I always wanted to be a good friend to you, someone that you trust enough to share your problems and worries at any time.” She remembered those words vividly because she had always wondered what might have changed if she had answered differently then. Or was he testing her? Did he expect her to respond or was he simply making a statement? Was he going to broach the taboo subject again?

 

As if sensing her discomfort, he leaned back onto his pillow. “Well, as my good friend, you said you will stay with me until I am sleeping. So, you better keep your word. For some reason, I do feel more relaxed when you are by my side.”

 

He had been teasing her. With a scowl, she said, “Because you can rest assure that those nasty mafias or cockroaches or Tang Clan assassins won’t come for your neck while I’m on watch.”

 

“Oh, how did you know about the Tang assassins? They’re always the nastiest. Because of bad blood between them and Clow Reed. How did that man make so many enemies in his lifetime?”

 

He had shut his eyes now, and Sakura noted the lines on his brows from all the tension he’d been under over the past weeks. “So, tell me what keeps you from sleeping at night.”

 

“Meilin calls it chronic insomnia,” said Syaoran. “But it’s not that I can’t sleep. I don’t really want to sleep. Because once I lose control of my consciousness, I do not know what world I may slip into.” 

 

Sakura frowned. “Nightmares?”

 

“At least you can wake from a nightmare,” said Syaoran.

 

“You said you were stuck in Limbo. You can try telling me a little about it,” she murmured, even though she knew he did not like to speak of his time inside the Cavern of Reservoirs.

 

“It’s not something I really want to relive.” He opened his eyes again, staring at the opposite wall. “The problem with my time in Limbo is, it wasn’t just that once. For the past three years, or maybe even longer, I’ve always had the same recurring nightmare. I am on a cliff against a gray, overcast sky. Sometimes it’s all hazy, but I am pretty sure it’s a representation of the Mt. Kumatori summit, from where Chang Risa jumped off. There have been so many variations of that same nightmare. Sometimes you’re falling off, and I can’t catch you. Sometimes I’m falling. Sometimes, the whole cliff is crumbling.”

 

Sakura stared at him with her rounded emerald eyes, feeling goose bumps on her skin though it was uncomfortably warm in the room.

 

“It sounds silly, when you are out of it and just recollecting it. But in that moment, as it’s happening, it feels so real and wretched and terrifying,” he said.

“I know,” whispered Sakura. “But you know it’s not real. This is real. You are here, and I am here. We are both here.”

 

To her surprise, he suddenly reached across the bed over to her, his fingers caressing the side of the throat. She could barely breathe at the contact of his hand on her bare skin.

 

“You have a pulse. You are real.” He laughed, his fingers slipping away and leaving her neck feeling bare against the cool night air. “What a silly imagination I must have.”

 

“It’s not just your imagination. Syaoran. I’ve had those dreams too. I know what it’s like.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

She stared down at her hands. “You are there. Right within my reach. And then you fall off the cliff, and I am shouting out your name over and over again.”

 

He paled before saying lightly, “Well, we did our share of falling over the past several years. It’s sort of a natural dream to have, based on our past experiences.” He glanced at her. “What about you. You haven’t told me much about what you were doing in the Cavern of Reservoirs while you were supposedly waiting for me. I believe you kept yourself quite busy. You’ve been quite strange about it, but I never really got a chance to ask about it.”

 

Sakura wished she could tell him about how she had met his father. But she couldn’t. Not yet. How could she describe how weary and defeated Li Ryuuren had been in his last moments of life? Of how haunting and chilling it had been, watching a life slip away, and how she couldn’t do anything to help him or east the pain. And how Chang Ryouta had been responsible for his death. She glanced over and found that Syaoran had leaned over to his side, propped up by his pillow and was staring up at her quizzically.

 

“Is your encounter with Chang Ryouta bothering you again?” he asked softly.

 

“N-no,” she stammered. She hadn’t told him the whole story last time. “Well, I guess that too.”

 

“It’s true, he was a horrid, wretched person,” said Syaoran. “What he did to Eri-san and his twin brother was unforgivable. But at the end of the day, we don’t have the full story, and we don’t know exactly what passed between the three of them. So, there’s no point in dwelling over it.”

 

Sakura sat up. Syaoran knew about how Ryouta had tricked Eri, taken her from his brother. “How do you know about that? I didn’t tell you.” And she paused. “That day at King Penguin Park—you read my mind then!” Wait, did that mean he had read other things from her mind too? 

 

He said slowly, “I can’t read your mind anymore. You know that.”

 

“Then how do you know about Eri-san and Ryouta-san?” Sakura demanded.

 

“I overhead,” said Syaoran reluctantly.

 

When could he have overheard? Right, that day she told Eron at school. They were outside on the bench nearest to the school building. Sakura’s shoulders slumped. She was sure he wasn’t lying about not reading her mind anymore, and if he had seen how she had confessed her feelings to his father, he surely would have said something. “He was a horrid person—I don’t know if I were his brother, I would have ever forgiven him. Reiji-san and Eri-san genuinely seemed like sweet people from meeting a version of them in the Fantasy.”

 

“You have to remember, Reiji-san was a Dark One too,” said Syaoran.

 

“But he joined in with my mother and your father at the end. He helped sealed a part of the Plague inside his body too, to help defeat it,” said Sakura. “Besides, Eron said Reiji had cared for him and Erika until the very end. Even though he knew what Ryouta did, he didn’t hate his children. He made sure to arrange everything with an orphanage and left a house and his savings to them for when they turned of age. I didn’t want to tell Eron, but he had already suspected something was strange, because he’s awfully sharp.”

 

Syaoran had shifted in the bed again, so that his back was to her now. “It’s about Eron again, isn’t it? You spend a lot of time worrying about him.”

 

“I can’t help it,” said Sakura. “I made him join the Star Alliance even though it makes him go against Erika, the person he cares about the most in the world.”

 

“Well, he chose you. I think that says something,” mumbled Syaoran into his pillows.

 

“Did you say something?” asked Sakura.

 

“Say, can I ask you something?”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Why did you go out with Eron?”

 

Sakura nearly toppled off the bed at the sudden question. But since his back was turned to her, she found it easier to try to respond. “I don’t know. I wanted to make him happy.”

 

“Do you still have that feeling for him?” he asked softly.

 

She glanced over at his shoulders. “I guess yes.”

 

“Would you have dated him, even if you hadn’t lost your memories?” he asked, even quieter.

 

Sakura didn’t know how to respond. Would she have dated Eron, if she hasn’t lost her memories of Syaoran? If she hadn’t been at a point in her life when she believed she had lost everything? It had been Eron by her side, all those months, filling an empty void she did not even know she had. He had encouraged her to forget, had distracted her from the pain. Was this question another pivotal one that she had to answer correctly? Or was Syaoran simply curious, as friends had a right to be. None of her friends had understood why she decided to date Eron in the first place. She didn’t either. “Yes, I think I would have,” she said. After all, at that time, she didn’t have any reason to refuse Eron.

 

“I see.”

 

Sakura clenched her hands into a fist in realization. No she wouldn’t have. Because, if she had memories of Li Syaoran, she wouldn’t have been able to.

 

“I’m going to sleep now,” murmured Syaoran, his back still turned to her.

 

“I’ll turn off the lamp then,” said Sakura, trying to stand up.

 

A hand slipped out from under the duvet and gripped her by the wrist, though he was not even facing her direction. “Stay.”

 

It was a command, yet she didn’t mind it because it came from him. “I will.” It dawned upon her that the day he had overheard her conversation with Eron was also they day that they fought over her swimsuit modeling gig. He didn’t let go of her wrist, even as his breath softened. Eventually, he rolled over, his head turned toward her again.

 

She watched Syaoran’s handsome sleeping side profile. She loved how his long brown lashes touched his cheeks, and how his dark brows had eased from his incessant frown. His hair always curled messily at the ends when they were rumpled. A slight came over his brows and she saw his fingers curl into a fist, as if he was under strain. She reached over and slipped her fingers into his fists, and slowly, his grip loosened. He exhaled, and Sakura found she could wrap her fingers around his warm, large hands. She loved the feeling of his palm and finger tips, hard with calluses from sword training yet somehow smooth, not dry or scratchy. Her lids grew heavy, and she thought she wanted to rest her head down on the second pillow for a moment, just to make sure he did not have any more bad dreams. He turned his head slightly, and she found that he was directly facing her, so close that she could feel his breath.

 

 

 

Sakura snuggled up closer to her Syaoran-bear. He was so warm and cuddly… and big? Wait, why was he not cushiony like a stuffed doll should be? And Sakura’s eyes flew open and stared up into the sleeping face of her one-time nemesis Li Syaoran. This was the second night in a row that she had fallen asleep in Syaoran’s bed, and this time, he was in it! Sunlight streamed into the bedroom because the curtains were not drawn all the day. And while she would like to excuse herself and say he was the one who had been holding her to him, on the contrary, she had been the one who had been curled against his chest, holding onto him. How was it that he didn’t wake up, she wondered. He must have been tired. Carefully, she slipped away from under the duvet cover—she was pretty sure she had been on top, and had meant to return to Meilin’s room when she was sure he was asleep. When had she zonked out? Goodness, what time was it? Were they going to be late for the meeting? She signed in relief after leaning over to check the clock.  

 

As if on cue, he rubbed his eyes and murmured, “What time is it?”

 

“It’s half past six,” she told him, glad that his eyes were still shut and she was standing by the door now, not curled up in the bed next to him. True, she was still in her pink flower-print pajamas, and was sure her hair was sticking out in all directions, but Syaoran’s eyes were half-shut anyway.

 

With a yawn, Syaoran remarked, “I think I actually slept through the whole night.”

 

“Wonderful. Now, I’ll get breakfast ready—you can wash up first.”

 

“Sakura?” called out Syaoran.

 

“Y-yes?” Sakura said.

 

“Oh, it really is you.” He looked up at her with his bleary eyes and smiled sleepily, and if she stayed any longer, she thought her heart will explode from the sweetness, so she dashed out of the room.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Wei picked them up by car and drove them to Marunouchi, the financial district of Tokyo, where the Li Group Japan headquarters was located—a gleaming glass high-rise building. Sakura was impressed to find that the damages from the yakuza rampages in April seemed to have been fixed. They went up the elevator to the 17th floor conference room.

 

“Syaoran, is it really okay for me to be here?” whispered Sakura, clutching the files to her chest. “I really can wait here outside, or around the corner at a coffee shop.”

 

“No, I need you here,” said Syaoran, trying to a hide a smile at Sakura’s attire of the day. She was dressed in business formal, a style he had never seen on her before, with a gray pencil skirt paired with a white silk blouse, sheer tan stockings and a pair of black patent leather pumps. Her hair was pulled back into neat ponytail, and she finished off the look with a pair of slim silver-rimmed glasses. “It’ll be boring, but can you stay by my side?”

 

Sakura gulped and nodded. “I’ll be taking all the notes of course.”

 

“That would be helpful,” said Syaoran. “There’s another issue.”

 

“What is it?” asked Sakura. “Anything I can help with?”

 

“There’s a corporate spy,” said Syaoran. “And Cousin Dairen believes it’s one of the members of the board of trustees here today.”

 

“I see,” said Sakura. “Well, I’ll be keeping an eye out for the spy. Here’s your main presentation points. The blue binder contains the appendix documents and the red one is supplementary spreadsheets.”

 

Syaoran looked over the binder of presentation notes that Sakura had color coded and tabbed for easy reference. “You’re really good at this.”

 

“Of course. I’ve always helped my father out whenever he was preparing for an academic conference or a major presentation. Though of course, I made him lose all his work one time when his hard drive got wiped. But that was because of a Clow Card.” She then took out a thermostat and poured Syaoran a cup of steaming coffee, sweetened with honey and milk. “Drink. It would calm your nerves.”

 

Syaoran sipped the coffee. “This is really good. What’s in here?”

 

“I prepare it for my dad when he has an important seminar,” said Sakura. She inspected him and straightened his Windsor-knotted sky-blue and silver silk tie in front of the conference room door before he entered. She took this moment to peek up at Syaoran who looked dashing with his chestnut brown hair slicked down, wearing a charcoal gray pinstripe suit paired with a crisp white shirt. A folded white silk handkerchief was tucked into his breast pocket, and onyx and gold cufflinks glimmered at his wrists. “Well, let’s go in then. I’ll be right by your side. Let me know if you need anything.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Syaoran entered the conference room, where a group of mostly older men in business suits had already taken a seat. Sakura quietly walked behind him, to the side of the room, where she would not be noticed, and quickly began preparing her laptop. When she looked up, she realized she recognized a few of the faces, such as Syaoran’s sisters, Leiyun, and another older cousin called Dairen.

 

And Syaoran slowly took the podium. Slowly, he said, “Good morning president, vice president, esteemed members of the board, as well as the delegation from the Li Group Hong Kong headquarters led by CFO Li Dairen. My name is Li Syaoran, 77th Great Elder of the Li Clan. I thank all of you for taking your valuable time out to join us here today.”

 

Dairen and some others watched Sakura suspiciously. But Sakura paid no heed and professionally typed away notes as various board members reported to the headquarters first quarter results. When Syaoran’s turn came up to make his presentation, she discreetly linked his laptop to the projector.

 

“We had a 74.9 billion yen loss in the first quarter in Japan because of the death of our figurehead Li Renshu, some bad business choices, major repairs needed in the HQ building and the general sluggish economy, but according to Li Group Vice President Li Dairen’s report, I am optimistic that we can anticipate steady recovery in the third and fourth quarters, especially with our expansion in the hotel business and our recent new shipping contract,” said Syaoran. “Now, that is only possible if we analyze where our biggest deficits are coming from, and what I see is that the Japan branch’s high executives has been taking bigger bonus cuts over Christmas and there has been a lot of undocumented expenditure throughout the past two years.”

 

The members of the board nodded and seemed to listen carefully to Syaoran’s presentation while others looked uncomfortable.

 

One middle-aged man asked, “Great Elder Li Syaoran, to my understanding, you are still a high school student. How will you balance your duties in your position as the Great Elder with your basic education?”

 

Syaoran told him coldly, though no less politely than usual, “If you have not been informed, Kitagawa-san, I have served as the Chosen One of the Li Clan, the third highest position in the hierarchy, for the past seven years. I don’t believe my education has ever gotten in the way of my duties to the Clan or the Li Group.”  

 

Sakura beamed up at Syaoran as he concluded his presentation and calmly answered the various questions.

 

Shiefa leaned over from her seat at the back of the room and hissed to her sister, “What is Syaoran thinking bringing Sakura here? Does he know what kind of occasion this is?”

 

Fuutie said wryly. “Syaoran is using his brain. Don’t you see, he’s sending a very powerful message to the Li Group Board of Trustees, or more like Dairen and the business delegation from Hong Kong. By having Sakura by his side in an exclusive meeting like this and making her privy to internal discussion of the Li Group, he is conveying his utter trust for Sakura. At the same time, there have been some grumblings that the Great Elder of the Li Clan allegedly joined the Alliance of the Stars under the new mistress of the Clow Cards, and some Elders have said that no Li should be subordinate to the Card Mistress. But by having Sakura come here as his assistant, he is demonstrating that they are on equal playing fields, that they are partners.”

 

“I didn’t think of it in that way, but it makes sense I guess,” Shiefa said.

 

“More importantly, this is the first time the younger generation is getting a chance to see Sakura up close. And it’s crucial for them to get to know Sakura as she is, in person,” Fuutie pointed out.

 

Shiefa giggled. “Yeah, we didn’t really like Sakura much until she came to visit us in Hong Kong. And she passed our test. Not that she knew she was being tested.”

 

“Yes, and Syaoran’s calculated the best venue for her to get the approval of the rest of the Clan. Sakura is at a vast disadvantage in Hong Kong, where she can easily be intimidated by the Li Clan. Here, in the board room, there are also some non-magical trustees, so the Li Council members can’t do much but observe. And also, Sakura is most charming in person, so it is smart of Syaoran to let her do the winning over on her own. Besides, it’s better to have Sakura show up here, when we all need to be on good behavior, than for Dairen to turn up suddenly to see her alone, catching her off guard, Syaoran probably thought.”

 

“True, there are so many unscrupulous rumors about Sakura floating around at home,” remarked Shiefa. “That she is a ditzy airhead who is an inept, useless Card Captor. I’m afraid Meilin was at the root of that rumor though, when she came over here years ago and did not like Sakura at all.”

 

“How about the one where she is some cunning seductress that completely manipulated our poor Syaoran into giving up all his powers to her,” Fuutie suggested. “Painting her as an absolute femme fatale.”

 

Shiefa chuckled at the ridiculous image. “Well, that can’t be helped since Syaoran did lose his powers because of her.”

 

The meeting lasted for over six hours, and at some points turned nasty as top executives of the Japan branch took shots at each other. Luckily, after his presentation, Syaoran was able to sit back at the head of the round table and listen, with Dairen moderating the meeting.

 

Sakura found herself almost yawning a couple times but made herself take notes, putting question marks in areas that she missed, so that she could check the recording later on. She shot off the notes to Syaoran’s smartphone, so that he could read up on them almost simultaneously. But she sighed in relief as the meeting seemed to draw to an abrupt end after lunch, two coffee breaks and 10 presentations. Many board members rushed up to Syaoran and shook his hand, a lot more reverent toward him than when he had first entered the meeting room that morning.

 

“Very good points you made today, cousin,” remarked Dairen, after most of the board members except family had filed out of the room.

 

“Actually, it was Meilin who sorted through the expenditures of the executives,” said Syaoran. “She has a very sharp eye for details.”

 

“I see,” said Dairen mildly. “Maybe we should invite her to the next board meeting next time.”

 

“Yes, I plan on inviting her,” replied Syaoran. “I did this time too, but she had an engagement.”

 

Dairen smiled thinly. “And do you plan on introducing me to your very competent assistant?”

 

Sakura jolted as she felt a pair of narrow brown eyes fix upon her from behind black-framed glasses.

 

“This is Kinomoto Sakura, Mistress of the Sakura Cards,” said Syaoran. “Sakura, this is my cousin, the CFO of the Li Group Hong Kong Headquarters, Li Dairen.”

 

Dairen held out a hand. “Delighted to make your acquaintance, finally, Card Mistress. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Sakura found his grip to be strong, and his eyes seemed to scour her. It was the same feeling she had gotten when she had first met Syaoran’s mother in Hong Kong, years ago, and Ieran had lifted up her chin, as if to gage her power.

 

Syaoran was about to step forward, to cut off Dairen, but the older man released Sakura’s hand first. “You indeed are as powerful as they say you are. I couldn’t read you at all.”

 

“Go easy on her,” hissed Fuutie.

 

And Dairen heaved a long sigh. “What idiot gave me the report that the Card Mistress is some sultry seductress that bewitched my cousin Syaoran, making him his personal slave? That person is getting demoted.”

 

Shiefa whispered loudly, “I think that was your father.”

 

And Fuutie snorted at this. “That’s why you still don’t have a girlfriend, Dairen. You don’t trust that a relationship is not all about power control.”

 

Clearing his throat, Dairen said, “Well, that board meeting went better than I thought, though we still haven’t caught the weasel yet.”

 

“If you are talking about the corporate spy, it’s the man that was sitting over there, I’m pretty sure,” said Sakura, pointing to the spot where a mousey balding middle-aged man had been sitting. “Kitagawa-san from the Kyoto branch office.”

 

“What makes you think that?” asked Fuutie.

 

“He was the only one suspiciously texting someone the whole time,” said Sakura. “And he was sweating nervously, even though the AC is blasted on inside here.”

 

“That’s not enough grounds to suspect someone of corporate espionage,” remarked Dairen.

 

“I used the Libra Card to check,” mumbled Sakura.

 

Dairen blinked. “Well, I’ve always found Kitagawa-san a bit fishy. I’ll get a few people to check up on him. Thank you very much, Card Mistress. You’ve been of great help today. I doubt you will be interested in a permanent position with the Li Group?”

 

“No, she won’t be,” snapped Syaoran. “And I won’t have you trying to use the Sakura Cards for business profits, either.”

 

With a sigh, Dairen said, “You’re stiffer than Great-Uncle Renshu, Syaoran.” He turned to Sakura. “Well, Card Mistress, remember, an offer with the Li Group will always be open if you come look for me, should you change your mind.”

 

“Sakura.” She looked up at Dairen. “My name is Sakura.” She then fiddled in her pocket and handed a stack of tickets to him. “Our school’s holding a cultural festival next week. I heard you will be in Japan through the week to finish the rest of your business, so if you have time, please do come.”

 

“Dairen and the others are busy. They won’t have time to come,” interjected Syaoran.

 

“Yes, of course I’ll make the time to go to your Cultural Festival, Sakura,” said Dairen, with a glint in his eye. “Leiyun tells me it will be very amusing.”

 

“Yes, it will be,” said Sakura. “And there’s someone I think you should meet.”

 

As they left the conference room, Syaoran’s sisters, Leiyun, and Dairen chatted between themselves.

 

“I told you she’s an interesting girl,” said Fuutie, glancing over her shoulder at Sakura and her brother.

 

“Yeah, she is,” replied Dairen. “Leiyun described her as a dull, useless person. But then Cousin Wenyen described her as some glorious angel that has fallen from heaven when he was with the Li delegation with Uncle Wutai last time. I was expecting some extraordinary celestial beauty but dear Sakura is a plain, ordinary schoolgirl.”

 

Shiefa rolled her eyes. “Sakura-chan is plenty cute. You should see her modeling shots though—she shines in front of the camera. And Wenyen is an idiot—I doubt he even got up close enough to see her face during the ‘Resurrection of the Card Mistress, Birth of the Dragon Lord,’ as some of our relatives have dubbed Syaoran and Sakura’s return from the Dragon Isles.”

 

Fuutie giggled. “Well, that beats the rumors that Syaoran had killed Sakura in a dual.”

 

“That wasn’t a rumor,” remarked Leiyun.

 

“Or that a swarm of locusts covered Tokyo entirely, blocking out all sunlight like doomsday, and that Card Captor Sakura, resurrected from the ashes of the dragons, soared through the sky with angelic white feathered wings, with all the insects trailing behind her like some Pied Piper of Hamelin drawing away the rats,” said Shiefa.

 

Leiyun interjected, “That was true though.”

 

Dairen chuckled. “Here’s the best one. It’s that Uncle Wutai tried to attack Syaoran and pushed him over the edge of a building, nearly falling off himself in the process. And our Chosen One, instead of crashing to an untimely death to the pavement below, flew up with a pair of black dragon wings. And all the proud of mighty elders, including my dear father and Uncle Wutai, bent down on their knees, in awe, subservient to the new Great Elder.”

 

“Still all true,” mumbled Leiyun.

 

 

 

Left alone in the empty conference room, the Li Group board of trustees out of ear shot, Syaoran finally let out an audible sigh of relief.

 

“So, did it go okay?” asked Sakura eagerly.

 

“I think so,” replied Syaoran.

 

“Dairen-san is scary, but not as scary as his father—Elder Daifu, right?” said Sakura.

 

“Yeah, Cousin Dairen’s not a bad sort, once you get his style,” said Syaoran. “I thought you don’t believe in using the Libra Card to see if someone is telling the truth.”

 

“This was an exception. I was protecting a member of the Star Alliance. That man seems to be planning some nasty business, and that will impact you. And I don’t want to lose you from the Alliance.”

 

And at this, Syaoran finally smiled. He mussed her neatly pinned hair. “Thank you. You’ve been tremendous help for me today.”

 

The corner of her eyes crinkled as she asked, “Really?”

 

Syaoran looked at Sakura, holding out a hand. “Now, do you want to get out of here?”

 

“Don’t you have to go to the dinner banquet with Japanese business executives?”

 

“I’m sure they’ll do fine without me,” said Syaoran. “Dairen and my sisters will take care of things. They know I hate social events like that.”

 

Sakura was not sure what excuse Syaoran had given to Dairen and his older sisters, but she found him dragging her by the wrist, through the marble hallway, down the elevator to the lobby. And then, they were out in broad daylight in the bustling streets of Tokyo.

 

“Oh, I left your laptop and briefcase in the conference!” protested Sakura.

 

“Don’t worry, Wei will bring them over to the apartment later,” said Syaoran. “Well, what should we do now? I’ll treat you because you helped me out today. We can do anything you want.”

 

“Anything?” squeaked Sakura.

 

“Well, let’s change into some comfortable clothes first,” said Syaoran.

 

Sakura nodded. Her black patent leather heels were killing her feet and the prim gray skirt and silky blouse borrowed from Meilin were extremely restricting and uncomfortable.

 

They went into a boutique in Shibuya—it was a brand that Tomoyo often frequented. She was not surprised to see Syaoran walk down the men’s aisles and quickly select an outfit—a pair narrow-cut chinos, a blue button down chambray shirt over a white shirt, and brown loafers.

 

Sakura browsed through the racks of frilly dresses, lovely floral-print shirts, fuzzy cardigans and flouncy skirts. She didn’t know where to start. Over the years, she’d grown so used to Tomoyo sending her clothes, some pieces that she designed, others that she and Aunt Sonomi bought for her when they went shopping, that she couldn’t even recall the last time she went shopping for her own clothes.

 

Syaoran had already changed into his casual outfit, his suit in the store’s shopping bag, when he found Sakura fumbling through the racks. When Sakura picked out a dress, she checked the price tag and gasped. “Um, well, you’re changed. Let’s go out and have dinner.”

 

“Aren’t you getting that dress you are holding?” asked Syaoran.

 

“Umm… No.” She didn’t have enough cash on her at the moment to buy the dress. “Maybe we can look elsewhere.”

 

With a frown, Syaoran flipped through the articles of clothing and selected a blue and white checkered gingham skirt, paired with a pale pink pinhole lace shirt and a faded jean crop jacket. He fumbled through the shoes, and picked out a pair of white brogues and tossed her white lace knee socks. “Go try this on.”

 

“But—” Sakura stammered as she eyed the articles of clothing in her arms. She had been fingering the skirt for a while earlier.

 

The sales assistant gushed, “Your boyfriend has excellent taste—do try it on together.”

 

Sakura was ushered into the changing room before she could protest that Syaoran was not her boyfriend. What was she supposed to do now? Change and show Syaoran?

 

But as soon as she was finished changing, she was dragged out by the sales attendant to model in front of the large mirror outside. Syaoran took once glance at Sakura, who tugged at the hem of her short flouncy skirt, rather bashful for someone who had posed in ridiculous cat ears, bunny rompers and every sort of frilled dress imaginable before without batting an eye.

 

“Okay, we’ll take all of that,” said Syaoran. “And that white lace layered dress too.”

 

Sakura squealed, “I didn’t bring enough cash!”

 

“It’s my present to you,” he replied. He absentmindedly placed another pale green blouse with capped sleeves on top of the white dress and a matching ribbon hairband.

 

“I-I’ll pay you back when we get back home,” said Sakura. It wasn’t like Syaoran hadn’t gotten her presents before, but those had been for special occasions.

 

“Think of it as my payment to you for being my assistant all weekend. I want some way to thank you, and you wouldn’t tell me how. My sisters like clothes as presents.” Syaoran handed out a black credit card to the sales assistant.

 

Sakura sighed. “I guess you got your credit cards back?”

 

He smiled. “Perks of being the Great Elder.”

 

Sakura swirled around in the blue-and-white checkered skirt trimmed with pinhole lace. Belatedly, she caught her reflection in the mirror next to Syaoran and wondered if he had color coordinated their outfits intentionally. “Well, thank you then.”

 

“Good,” said Syaoran. “Because now I’m hungry. I don’t know the last time I felt this hungry.”

 

“What are you craving?” asked Sakura. “It’ll be my treat.”

 

“Pizza,” replied Syaoran.

 

“Pizza?” squeaked Sakura. “I’ve never seen you eat pizza before, I think. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

 

“I bet I can devour a whole pan of large pepperoni pizza right now, and I’m not sure I like pepperoni.”

 

Sakura realized that Syaoran had not been exaggerating, and after sharing a huge pan of pepperoni pizza, the two went into a little corner café afterward and ordered melon soda, a toxic lime green color, alongside a strawberry cheesecake and cherry tart.

 

“I don’t get why this is called the best cheesecake in Shibuya. I bet I can bake this in a jiffy,” declared Syaoran. “Add a little bit more vanilla—maybe some white chocolate chips.  

 

“I’m sure you can bake a better cheesecake,” agreed Sakura, popping a strawberry in her mouth.

 

With a little frown, Syaoran peered at the slice of cake and said, “I’ll probably alternate the strawberry slices with whipped cream sprinkled with dried raspberry chips. And add some light pink food coloring to the cheese cake batter.”

 

“You really like pink, don’t you?” said Sakura with a laugh, staring down at the shirt Syaoran had chosen for her.

 

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t refute her.

 

“I wonder if Meilin won in the gymnastics meet—she really is fantastic, there is no reason she shouldn’t get a gold medal.”

 

“Why didn’t you join gymnastics this year? If I recall, you are probably as good,” Syaoran remarked.


“No, Meilin truly is the best,” said Sakura. This, Syaoran could not deny—after all, Meilin had trained hardcore in gymnastics since childhood to make sure she could maintain the flexibility needed to be the best martial artist possible. “I’m co-captain of the cheerleading team, so I couldn’t take up the extra responsibility. And gymnastics is really time-consuming.”

 

“I’m pretty sure Meilin did well—she is very competitive, after all,” remarked Syaoran.

 

“Even more competitive than you are?” Sakura asked with a grin.

 

“I’m competitive?” asked Syaoran in surprise.

 

At this, she chuckled. “Of course you are. Is it a Li thing?”

 

“I guess I am competitive,” Syaoran admitted. “All the cousins were pitted against each other from an early age, whether it be in academics, sports, music or martial arts, so naturally we all end up with a competitive streak. I would say Leiyun probably is the only one who was always kind of above the competition.”

 

“Why, because he was the best at everything?” Sakura asked dryly.

 

“Well, yes.”  

 

“What next?” asked Sakura, half afraid that Syaoran would say that they should return home now since they had school tomorrow and it was already nightfall. He was checking his mobile phone, and seemed a bit distracted. Because she didn’t want to end the day, she savored the last bite of the cake slowly, then looked up at Syaoran expectedly.

 

“We can catch a movie—there’s a theater across the street,” he pointed out, turning off his phone and sliding it into his pocket.  

 

 

 

As expected, the theater was bustling with people—groups of giggling high schoolers, families with kids and couples because it was a Sunday.

 

“I haven’t been to a movie theater in ages!” exclaimed Sakura. She juggled the popcorn and soda cups. “What are we watching?”

 

“I don’t know—everything was sold out, so I got whatever ticket was available,” said Syaoran peering down at the tickets. “It’s called Ring: The Return.”

 

“I hope it’s a romantic comedy,” said Sakura. She was okay with melodrama as well.

 

They took seats in a near-empty theater.

 

And the film started off with a ghastly murder scene that left the audience shrieking.

 

“Syaoran!” wailed Sakura, eyes covered with both hands.

 

“Sorry—I mean, the title was misleading!” replied Syaoran weakly. “It sounded either like a chick flick or an epic fantasy trilogy.” But Sakura had thrown her arms around his and buried her head into his sleeve as a contorted ghost crawled out of a television set on screen.  

 

“Hoe—Tell me when it’s over… Is it over?”

 

“Not yet,” said Syaoran, looking at anywhere but the movie screen as the creature let out the most horrifying croak. While Syaoran did not exactly enjoy the ghosts or the gore, the mystery suspense of the plot was enough to keep him through the film. Though he doubted Sakura caught much of the film.

 

“Hoe, I hate you! How could you do this to me? You’re awful,” she sniffed.

 

“Sorry, I really had not clue it was horror! I said we can leave in the middle!” he said.


“No! You were having fun. And you said it was the first movie you’ve seen in a theater since—I don’t know, when was the last time you went to a theater?” Besides, she was afraid he would say they should return home if they left in the middle of the screening.

 

Syaoran hid a smile, watching her bottom lips tremble. “Well, next, we can do something you want to do.”

 

Sakura tilted her head. “Anything?”

 

“Yeah, anything.”

 

Sakura clapped her hands gleefully. “I wanted to take a purikura in this new outfit—but I know you don’t like taking photos, and I wanted to try crepes in Harajuku, and see a street band performance. Oh, how can I choose?”

 

“Why choose? We can do it all,” he replied.

 

Then Sakura stared at her watch in alarm. “Syaoran! What time does the last train to Tomoeda leave?”

 

Syaoran glanced down at his petal-shaped watch. It couldn’t possibly be this late, could it? Then again, they had caught a very late film which had run for nearly two hours. “We just missed it,” he remarked solemnly.

 

Sakura stared up at him, horrified. “What are we going to do?”

 

He fumbled in his pocket for his mobile phone. “It’s okay, I’ll just call Wei and ask him to pick us up.”

 

“You can’t call Wei at this hour!” exclaimed Sakura. “He’ll be sleeping. And your family would expect you to be back in Tomoeda, studying as you told them you would be. Besides, it takes at least an hour to drive here from Tomoeda, and more like two if he is waking up, dressing and getting ready. We might as well just wait for the morning train then.”

 

At this, Syaoran opened his mouth and shut it again, wondering if she knew what she was suggesting. He sighed. “I guess you are right. Well, hope you are not too sleepy then.”

 

“Nope! I had too much soda, and I might have dozed off slightly in the middle of the movie, so I’m completely awake!” exclaimed Sakura.

 

“And the good news is Tokyo is a city that never sleeps. Let’ s go finish up the rest of your list,” said Syaoran, dragging her out of the empty theater. “What first?”

 

“You know, don’t laugh but I think I’m hungry again—I’m craving sweets,” replied Sakura.

 

He did laugh at her. “How can you be hungry after all the junk we’ve been eating? But I guess to Harajuku we go!”

 

They walked along the streets, still bustling with people.

 

“Syaoran?” said Sakura, arms swinging. “By any chance, do you know the way?”

 

“No, I’ve never been there before,” replied Syaoran. “Though I’ve scoured most of Tokyo by now because of my tourist sisters. But look, there’s a purikura machine.” He pointed to a sticker picture machine. “I think I haven’t taken one since fifth grade.”

 

“You mean the one we took together on our Tokyo outing when we caught the Dream Card?” asked Sakura.

 

They squeezed into the machine together, and Sakura fed bills into the slot. Syaoran gawked at the sheer number of choices. “What do we press? It’s so pink in here.”

 

First, we need to choose the backgrounds—let’s do this blue sky one, the pink bubbles and the rainbow. Oh, we need to pose for the pictures—look at that camera.” There were several consecutive flashes, and Syaoran stared at the screen, stunned. Sakura shoved a pen into his hand. “Hurry, now we’ve got to decorate—see you can write something. I’m going to write today’s date. Here, you can add stamps—I’m going to add wolf ears for you. And ribbons here, and sparkles. Syaoran—we only have 10 seconds!”

 

The two peered over the final laminated sticker sheet of rainbow explosion. Sakura laughed. “Syaoran, you have the same expression in all the shots!” And Syaoran stared down at his sheet and saw Sakura winking in one picture, making a goofy face in another, imitating his solemn face in the next one and beaming in the final one. “And I thought you’re a semi-pro model published in magazines by now, Syaoran.” She proceeded to cut the sticker sheet in half. “Here, Syaoran!” For a second, she stared at her half, wondering where to stick the photo. She wanted to stick it on the back of her cellphone. But only couples did that, so she slipped her half of the sticker sheet into her wallet.

 

Though Sakura didn’t know if it was sheer luck or if Syaoran had a much better sense of direction than she had surmised, they stumbled along right into Harajuku.

 

Syaoran watched Sakura munch on the peaches and cream crepe—only in Tokyo would there be a crepe stand me open at this hour. “You really have room to eat that after all the sweets we’ve eaten tonight?”

 

Sakura nodded and in between a mouthful, she said, “It’s delicious!” She held out the crepe to Syaoran.

 

He hesitated slightly before taking a bite. He chewed and remarked. “It is quite tasty.”

 

He proceeded to buy another crepe for himself, in apple and cinnamon. “Try mine,” he said.


Sakura took a bite and her eyes widened. “It’s even better than mine! Let’s switch.”

 

He laughed. “No switching.”

 

They watched girls in pastel-toned Lolita frocks pass by. “Tomoyo will fit right in here,” remarked Syaoran. He glanced over at Sakura. “And you wouldn’t even stand out here in your crazy battle costumes.”

 

“I doubt you would either, in yours,” remarked Sakura. “You can probably walk around with your sword too without getting arrested.”

 

Syaoran stared at the fleck of cream on her upper lip and wanted to reach out and wipe it away from her. But she quickly licked it away with a flick of her little pink tongue. The crepe didn’t stop them from sampling piping hot takoyaki, little pieces of octopus coated in batter, purchased from another stand couple blocks down. Because they burnt their tongues in process, they cooled it with lavender-flavored soft-serve ice cream on waffle cones.   

 

And the two chatted and walked through the bright neighborhoods into the wee hours of dawn, stopping by stores still open at the hour or to listen to street machines. Sometimes, Syaoran would walk closer to her and sort of nudge her along quickly when they passed through dodgier neighborhoods or when suspiciously looking people passed by.

 

They walked for a good hour before Sakura pointed. “Look, we’re nearly at Tokyo Tower. Too bad it’s closed at this hour.”

 

Syaoran turned to her in mock surprise. “Did that ever stop us before?”

 

“Wait what are we doing?” hissed Sakura, following Syaoran around the lattice structure.

 

“Don’t you think this is the best place to watch the sunrise in Tokyo?”

 

“Is it okay to break in like this?” whispered Sakura.

 

“After all that we’ve done up here, I don’t think that’s the right question to ask,” replied Syaoran, leading her up a back entrance, up the emergency stairwell. “It’s quite a climb. We might not make it in time. Beat you to the top!”

 

Sakura panted as they reached the closed-off special observatory deck—which Syaoran broke into easily with a couple ward papers. Stepping back into the space reminded her of that night of her birthday.

 

In between breaths, she asked, “Did we make it in time?”

 

“Yeah. Look.” And Syaoran pointed eastward. And they could see the first sliver of gold in the horizon glimmer through the high-rise buildings. She experienced for the first time a panorama view of the sunrise over Tokyo. The horizon was now a deep crimson and then for a brief second, the city was a brilliant blinding gold, and Sakura squinted her eyes as the light reflect off of the glass of the surrounding buildings. For a brief second, Sakura looked over at Syaoran, washed in the golden light, smiling.

 

A smiling Syaoran. How nostalgic it was. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to make sure he was real, but was afraid he would crumble away with the light. In that moment, he too glanced her way and their eyes met briefly. His head seemed to bend over to her. And Sakura was suddenly transported to that morning two summers ago on the train. She sometimes thought she dreamed up that moment, for neither of them had referenced it again. And it was not like Tomoyo’s video footage existed as proof that the kiss had really happened.

 

Yet, his gold-lit amber eyes were staring into hers, as if he was searching for an answer in her.

 

“Sakura.”

 

“Y-yes?” She looked up at him expectantly.

 

“There’s something I wanted to tell you,” he said, his voice quiet.

 

She waited, unable to breathe.

 

“I just wanted to say,” Syaoran said, taking a pause. "I wish you can feel like you can talk to me about anything that concerns you. I mean, not just about work, the dark forces. But other things too.”

 

Sakura in the past was always able to confide in Syaoran. Syaoran was a very sympathetic listener. Tomoyo was a great listener too, but with Syaoran, she always got the sense that he got her, somehow, even though she couldn't express all her thoughts into words.

 

The thing was, now, her concern was about him. And she couldn't necessarily tell him that. Whereas Eron, she had always found, to be a horrible companion to talk to because he was intentionally blunt, truthful but oftentimes hurtful. Yet, sometimes she needed that.

 

"Okay?" asked Syaoran.

 

"Okay," she replied.

 

“And also,” he continued. She looked up at him expectantly. “I just wanted to tell you that I believe in you. That everything will turn out okay.”

 

Sakura let out a breath. “Oh. Yes. Thank you. T-that’s its?”

 

“Yes?”

 

She looked up at him. If he wouldn’t say it, she would say it. “Syaoran. I have something to say too. I—” Her stomach let out a low rumble. With a blush, her hands flew to her belly.

 

And the magic moment passed as the city was lit with a rose-colored glow and sunlight streamed into the observatory deck in all directions. Syaoran was staring off at the city skyline, with a distant look again.

 

“You know, with all that walking and climbing up the stairs, I never would have thought I would say this after all that we ate last night, but I think I might be hungry again too,” remarked Syaoran.


“Well, told you we would need this.” Sakura produced melon bread, banana milk cartons and little cheese Danishes she had bought at the 24-hour convenience store just earlier. “We did walk around half the city all night long.”

 

He chuckled and spread his blazer on the floor for them to sit on.

 

“That was amazing,” said Sakura. “I’m glad it’s a clear day. I never would have thought of watching the sunrise from up here. It’s quite an experience.”

 

He nodded, apparently in a pensive mood again. They sat down the ground, watching the sun rise higher overhead, munching on the bread and sipping on the milk in silence.

 

She was sure Syaoran had felt it too, Sakura thought. Or maybe the lack of sleep and the beauty of the sunrise had played tricks in her mind. Had he been trying to reassure or tell her something crucial? Had she been ready to tell him her feelings, or had she been swept away by the moment?

 

The first time Syaoran left Japan, in elementary school, she had been hopeful, positive that they would meet again. The second time he left Japan, at the end of junior high, she was not sure at all they would see again. When they parted that day at the Hong Kong harbors, she was near certain she would never see him again.

 

Yet, he came back. And he was here. There would come a day when he will have to leave her again. But she was determined never to let go again.

 

 

 

Syaoran knew not when he had drifted off to sleep, but he found himself jolting up with a horrible neck ache. He shook Sakura. “Hurry, we’ve got to catch the train or else we’re not going to make it to school on time!”

 

Sakura rubbed her eyes, a gray suit blazer slipping off her shoulders. “When did we fall asleep?” Drowsily, she had a vague memory of leaning against a broad shoulder and basking in the warmth of the sunlight. And her shoulders, bottoms and knees all ached.  

 

“Get up, get up. The janitors are coming in,” said Syaoran, scooping up their shopping bags and plastic bags full of wrappers, bottles and other trash.

 

“Oh my gosh, what time is it?” exclaimed Sakura. “School!”

 

The two took the elevator down and then zipped out toward the nearest subway station, colliding into people heading toward offices and other people up and about early in the morning.

 

The train had just arrived and they dashed on, with the morning rush hour crowd, barely able to squeeze into the car.

 

“You know Syaoran,” said Sakura, panting, struggling to hold up her shopping bag and push her hair out of her face. “Is it crazy that all this running’s made me hungry again?”

 

“Well, I’m sort of craving that pizza we had last night,” replied Syaoran. “Do you think they deliver to Tomoeda?”

 

They looked at each other as they collapsed into two empty seats, and laughed out loud, barely able to catch their breath.

 

“Syaoran—my brother worked at a pizza chain before. He can make better pizza from scratch,” said Sakura. “And I’m sure you can too.” She could not recall the last time she had seen Syaoran laugh so frequently and carefree. And why his smile tugged at something inside her, as if all she wanted to do was make him laugh like this. She was reluctant to return back to Tomoeda because when they did, she would no longer be his manager for the day, and he too would be back as Li Clan Great Elder. She wouldn’t have Syaoran all to herself anymore.  

 

“I guess this is what it feels like to be Yukito-san,” remarked Syaoran.

 

Sakura chuckled. “Yeah, Kero-chan warned me that unbeknownst to ourselves, our bodies may still be fully regenerating our respective powers as a part of the healing process, and that hunger may be a side effect.”

 

“I don’t think I noticed while I was in Hong Kong after my powers came back,” said Syaoran with a frown.

 

“You don’t even sleep properly when left alone,” replied Sakura. “You wouldn’t feed yourself properly if left to your own devises. That’s why Meilin made sure I became your manage for the weekend. She made me promise to make you eat and sleep properly, if nothing else.”

 

“Oh, she made you promise her,” said Syaoran.

 

Sakura did not know why Syaoran looked glum all of a sudden, as he watched out the train window for the rest of the ride, as the tall skyscrapers faded to green fields.

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

Sakura and Syaoran caught a cab from the train station straight to school.

 

“Oh my gosh, we’re so late,” squeaked Sakura as they snuck across the empty Seijou High soccer field.

 

“It’s all right. First period is just homeroom,” replied Syaoran, signaling Sakura to follow after him after peaking around, darting into an empty room.

 

It took a second for Sakura to register where she was. “This is the boy’s changing room!”  

 

“I keep an extra uniform at school,” replied Syaoran, pointing to his locker. “Shoot, I don’t have a tie. Wait, Kai never wears his—where is his locker?”

 

Sakura blinked, watching Syaoran open locker No. 603. “You just broke into Kai’s locker.”

 

“He never locks it,” replied Syaoran, taking out a black tie. He also found a comb in Kai’s locker and ran it through his hair.  

 

They turned still when they heard voices coming from outside.

 

“Oh no—the freshmen have gym next,” whispered Sakura.

 

“Hide,” said Syaoran, staring around for a spot to tuck away Sakura. “In the locker.”

 

Sakura found herself squeezed into Syaoran locker, clutching his shirt to her chest. The metal door shut.

 

“Vice-captain! What are you doing here? Did you get your schedule mixed up?” called out a freshman on the soccer team. “It’s our gym class next, not yours. Why did you miss morning soccer practice?”

 

“Oh my gosh, Li-senpai, can I please touch your biceps?” asked another boy. “You don’t look that ripped with your clothes on. What is your workout routine?”

 

Sakura smothered a giggle then clasped her mouth shut. Syaoran always had been popular with sports teams.  

 

“Did you hear that?” asked the first boy. “It sounded like a girl.”

 

“Hurry up and change and leave. I’m meditating,” said Syaoran.

 

“Of course. Li-senpai is meditating. Boys, change and leave quickly,” said the soccer team underclassman.

 

“Can I please touch your abs? Do you have a special diet? Oh, they’re rock hard!”

 

Syaoran sighed. “If you’re finished changing, get out. Okay touch them. And then leave!”

 

Of course, it took the boys another five minutes to change, leaving a trail of clothes on the floor.

 

Syaoran yanked the locker door open, vaguely hoping he had not left any dirty laundry in there—unlike most boys, he brought home his gym clothes to wash daily. And Sakura nearly hurdled out into his arms.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You didn’t get suffocated? It wasn’t stinky in there?”

 

“No, it smells like laundry detergent inside,” said Sakura with a weak smile. “Like you. Oh, my legs have gone dead though. I feel needles in my feet.” She tried to step forward and her legs gave up on her.

 

“Sakura!” he exclaimed as she collapsed forward. He tripped over a pair of gym shoes, and she tumbled atop.

 

“Oh my, how bold, in the middle of the boys’ locker room,” exclaimed Tomoyo, walking in with impeccable timing, camcorder in hand. She eyed the disarray, Syaoran with his shirt half buttoned, Sakura apparently holding a blue flannel shirt, one hand entangled in a black necktie half encircled around Syaoran’s neck.

 

“Naughty, naughty,” whistled Kai, who was munching on a box of Pocky as he walked in. “Hey, isn’t that my tie?”

 

Meilin walked in after him and smirked. “Kai, hand me over 1,000 yen. I totally won the bet.”

 

“Yeah, comes the day, it’s me sitting in first period, on time, studying diligently,” said Kai. “While these two are playing hanky panky in the boys’ locker room.”

 

By now, Sakura had regained the sensation in her legs and finally realized she was squatting on top of Syaoran, again, and that they had gained a group of spectators. “Hoe! Syaoran, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

 

“No, he’s not,” said Kai. “Poor wolf boy.”

 

“Oh, Sakura-chan, your outfit is so adorable!” exclaimed Tomoyo. “Twirl around. Did Syaoran pick it out for you?”

 

Sakura’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

 

“It’s totally his style,” replied Tomoyo. “Don’t you know sometimes I got him to select battle outfits for you? He’s always had good taste, and there are some days I just couldn’t decide.”

 

“No… really?” asked Sakura dubiously.

 

“How do you think I always managed to be so point on with the card themes so many times?” replied Tomoyo.

 

“I thought you coordinated with Kero-chan,” said Sakura. Then again, there were time when Tomoyo had been prepared even before Kero-chan got the sense of what was going on.

 

“Anyhow, did you bring Sakura a spare uniform?” asked Syaoran, picking himself up from the floor.

 

“Yes, of course,” said Tomoyo, taking out two uniforms from a shopping bag.

 

“Why do you have two uniforms?” asked Meilin. 

 

“I have more—I’m just showing two,” replied Tomoyo. “Do you want loose fit or slim fit?”

 

“How was your gymnastics meet, Meilin?” asked Syaoran, pulling on his spare uniform blazer and adjusting his tie. Well, Kai’s tie.  

 

Meilin flashed her gold medal.

 

“Good job!” said Syaoran. “I knew the medal was yours.”

 

“And how was the board meeting?” asked Meilin.

 

“It went well, I think,” said Syaoran. “Thanks to Sakura. And of course, all the notes and data you prepared as well.”

 

A chocolate Pocky in his mouth, Kai remarked, “Well, I’m glad your boring board meeting went well and all. But I’m sure it didn’t run all night, right? I don’t think you even came home last night. Didn’t hear the door open.”

 

Syaoran glowered at the former thief. “What do you do, lean up against the wall with your ears pressed up against it all night?”

 

Kai fed a Pocky into Syaoran’s open mouth. “As a matter of fact, yes,” said the former thief. “Why do you think I moved next doors to you in the first place?”

 

 

******

 

 

 

Tomoyo only got a chance alone with Sakura at lunchtime and grabbed both her hands. “So, how was it? Being manager for the weekend? I wish I was there to film the whole thing.”

 

“I don’t think I slept at all,” groaned Sakura, head drooping down and her hair falling all over her face.

 

With a chuckle, Tomoyo asked, “Was there that much work to do? Or did Syaoran keep you from sleeping?”

 

Sakura confessed, “You know, I thought I’m used to living with Syaoran by now. I mean, I spent that whole summer with him in junior high, and he stayed at my house over the winter. Yet, something’s different.”

 

“Like what?” Tomoyo asked.

 

“I feel nervous when I’m alone with him.”

 

“Like your heart is all scrunched up, like it’s about to explode, and you feel all hot and uneasy?” asked Tomoyo. “Like your lung is being squeezed and you can’t breathe?”

 

Sakura nodded frantically. “How did you know? Yes, exactly like that.”

 

Tomoyo snickered. “Isn’t the difference that you’ve acknowledged that you like Syaoran now, so you are just aware of your feelings for him in his presence?”

 

“I-I didn’t acknowledge I l-like him!” exclaimed Sakura.

 

“If you say so,” said Tomoyo with a shrug. “But isn’t it time to become a little bit more truthful about your feelings?”

 

Sakura twiddled her thumb and said quietly, “We were together the whole weekend, but to Syaoran, it seems that nothing’s really different between us.”

 

Tomoyo blinked. “You’ve known each other for seven years now, thinks don’t really change overnight.”

 

“He called us good friends,” Sakura said. “I can’t help that he thinks of me just as a comrade and ally against the dark forces.”

 

“Which you are,” Tomoyo pointed out. “I think you’ve said the same about him numerous times. I think you were secretly hoping for something to be different, now that he’s returned to Japan legitimately, and he’s officially a member of the Alliance of the Stars?”

 

“I really don’t know what Syaoran thinks of me,” said Sakura.

 

“Really?” Tomoyo reminded her, “Remember, Syaoran did confess to you. Six years ago, before he left for Hong Kong.”

 

Sakura said, “But that was just spur of the moment, because he knew he was leaving for Hong Kong, and maybe he was confused about his feelings at that moment.”

 

“You really think that Syaoran began liking you only then?” mumbled Tomoyo, heaving a long sigh of commiseration for poor Syaoran. “Anyway, did he ever explicitly say he stopped feeling anything for you though?”

 

“He told me it was just some silly childhood impulse when he returned to Japan three years ago,” replied Sakura, staring down at her lap. “He called everything silly childhood memories.”

 

Tomoyo wondered if Sakura did not suspect this was yet another move on Syaoran’s part to distance himself from her. In a more solemn tone, she continued, “I think what you want is Syaoran to confess to you again. But if you are waiting for that, don’t you think, maybe it’s your turn to confess your feelings to him?”

 

And Sakura’s mouth dropped, her arms flapping by her side helpless. “I-I can’t do that!”

 

“Why not?” asked Tomoyo. “I think maybe, Syaoran is waiting to hear from you the truth. Which he deserves to hear.”

 

Sakura shook her head rapidly. “I had an awful dream recently. I confessed to Syaoran. And do you know what he told me? He told me that my feelings for him may be like that for my brother. That demon brother of mine!”

 

Tomoyo did not know whether to laugh and cry and tried to maintain a straight face. “Are they? Is that why you are hesitant?”

 

“No!” exclaimed Sakura, horrified. “Of course not! I just don’t want to ruin what we have right now.”

 

“Which is?” asked Tomoyo. “Friendship? Camaraderie? An alliance? I think, you have been hurt in the past, when you confessed to Yukito-san and he rejected your feelings. Perhaps, you are scared of rejection from Syaoran as well.”

 

“My feelings for Yukito-san and Syaoran are different,” said Sakura quietly.

 

“Yes, Yukito-san was right, after all, wasn’t he? They’re different, aren’t they?” Tomoyo said. “Didn’t you confess to Yukito-san clearly knowing he didn’t return your feelings? You confessed to him your feelings knowing you will be turned down because you wanted closure. You knew he liked your brother. But it’s different with Syaoran, isn’t it.”

 

Sakura remained silent. As usual, Tomoyo uncannily hit the nail. Why had she asked Syaoran to accompany her to the park seven years ago, after she was rejected by Yukito on the day of the Seijou High cultural fair? She could have asked Tomoyo, who would have been very sympathetic, but she didn’t. It was not simply because she knew that Syaoran had liked Yukito as well. It was not just because she knew he was a good listener. Because even then, she had somehow known if there was anybody to be by her side when she was the most vulnerable and dejected, it was Li Syaoran. Subconsciously, she had already been aware at that point that Syaoran was a special existence to her. So, of course she was scared of rejection from Syaoran more than anything else in the world. She could never risk putting at stake what they had now, something that had been so hard-earned which many others could take for granted—the right to simply be in the same place at the same time. 

 

“You know, I was a little hurt back then that you didn’t come to me first when you were feeling depressed about being turned down by Yukito-san,” said Tomoyo with a twinkle in the eye.

 

“I’m sorry!” exclaimed Sakura. “He was right there, and he offered too walk me home. And he liked Yukito-san too, so I thought he’d understand.”

 

“I was actually there that day too.” Tomoyo smiled slightly. “In a sense, I am glad it was Syaoran who was there for you that day. I don’t think anyone would have been able to cheer you up so quickly as he was able to then. But I think it’s important to ask yourself, why was it that you were able to tell Syaoran about your innermost feelings. Not just that time, but when you broke up with Eron-kun.” The she said more quietly, “Though I was sad that you didn’t tell me about that either. And I found out about it at school the next day with the rest of the class.”

 

Sakura’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean to not tell you. I promise I will tell you everything from now on!”

 

“It’s okay, you know,” said Tomoyo with a chuckle. “You don’t have to tell me everything. Just, ask yourself a little more truthfully, what are the things you want to tell just one person, and you will be able to recognize who the person most important to you is. But remember, your feelings won’t come across unless you put them into words.” And Tomoyo sigh again and murmured to herself, “Oh dear, I had a sense of déjà vu. I swear I had this same conversation with a certain someone seven year ago.”

 

“There’s something I never told you,” said Sakura. “You remember the ski trip back in fifth grade, a little before the Seijou High School cultural festival when I confessed to Yukito-san. I bumped into Syaoran in the lounge when everybody went to bed, and he told me then that he had only been attracted to Yukito-san’s moon power. And then, he told me that he had someone he liked. He was about to tell me who it was, and then, I said it’s okay, that he didn’t have to tell me. At that moment, I felt the worst feeling ever, learning that he had someone he really liked. I didn’t want to hear it from his lips. I knew Yukito-san liked my brother, so it never bothered me when Syaoran liked Yukito-san.”

 

Tomoyo had always suspected that something had happened at that ski trip while they were always asleep, so she wasn’t surprised by this. But too bad Sakura had not listened to the rest of Syaoran’s confession—it might have saved a lot of heartache down the road.

 

Sakura continued, “And also, there is one thing I am glad about having lost my star powers and Syaoran losing his power of the moon.”

 

“What is it?” asked Tomoyo, thinking there really was nothing to be glad about losing one’s powers.

 

“Well, I know for certain I was not drawn to Syaoran because of his moon powers, nor was it my star powers dictating how I felt. It was purely my own emotions,” replied Sakura with a smile. “I like Syaoran because he is Syaoran.”

 

And Tomoyo felt her heart throb even if it was not a confession directed to her. She couldn’t help throw her arms around Sakura with a squeal, her voice muffled against her chest, “That took you long enough to realize, in fact, far too long, and in a sense I’m not sure who had it worse. You with your pure romantic sensibilities finally awakening after enduring trial after trial from Clow Cards to dark forces, or the anguish Syaoran had to go through watching you get over Yukito-san then Eron-kun with Eriol-kun meddling in the worst way possible in between, or me, having to watch over the both of you for the past seven years and keeping my vow of silence, testing every thread of patience I have in me.” She grabbed her best friends shoulder and said out loud, “But now, go relay these exact words to Syaoran! “

 

“But how?” asked Sakura.

 

“The cultural festival is coming up. Isn’t it legend that couples that confess to each other during the bonfire dance will be blessed?” Tomoyo clenched both hands into fists. “Good luck Sakura-chan!” 

 

And Sakura collapsed to her knees, wailing, “I can’t after all!”

 

Tomoyo exclaimed, “You can do it!”

 

 

 

***********************************************************

 

Wish-chan: July 13, 2016

 

Truthfully, I edited this author’s note in 2017 and was shocked to write that this chapter was written over a year ago. This saga was supposed to be the easy part of Arc 4, but I guess not. The title of “Chapter 72: Almost Left Behind,” is taken from the lyrics of one of my favorite song’s ever, Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time,” though my favorite version is by the lovely late Eva Cassidy. It can apply to a number of characters, but I think the theme is delved into further in Chapter 73.

 

I am glad I finally got an opportunity to develop Syaoran’s sisters in the plotline—it comes late, and I debated doing so in the main story, but in the end, I realized it was necessary. Some of you may have noticed that Arcs 1-3 has been about the growth of Sakura, but Arc 4 has constantly been about Syaoran’s growth and coming to terms with the Li Clan, hence the title of this story, “New Trials of Card Captor Sakura, Syaoran, and Friends.” The Li sisters purposely try to pester little brother Syaoran, hence they come off as slightly annoying, but Fuutie and Shiefa are the grounded ones compared to Fanren and Feimei!

 

Similarly, I really enjoy writing Leiyun and Tomoyo’s odd interactions. The splintered reaction from the New Trials community on their relationship also is bemusing. A point that the two characters share in common are that they both are otaku—though of slightly different genres. I believe Tomoyo’s favorite manga/anime is Roses of Versailles by Riyoko Ikeda. (I too was once obsessed with the anime in elementary school, and I believe it started my obsession with Rococo and the French Revolution, and also was traumatized at a young age by the guillotine scene). Leiyun looks like the type who would like deep, psychological stories, but actually enjoys simple shounen action manga. He prefers manga to anime, because he’s not good with technology, and also because he’s a loyalist to the “original source.” As mentioned earlier, he collects Gundam figurines in his medicine cabinet.

 

Ever since Arc 3 of Card Captor Sakura and all the agony Syaoran went through, I thought it would be interesting to see a reverse situation where Sakura would have to confess her feelings to Syaoran.

 

Again, many thanks to Robert Arrowsmith of www.internetwebservers.net for hosting New Trials all these years.

 

I will always love getting emails because they are the most personable and also can be archived, so they are always welcomed at: hopeluvpeace@hotmail.com

 

Please continue to support the Yahoo New Trials Ring at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/newtrialsring, the best place for in-depth discussion that will always have a special place in my heart. If you haven’t already, please join the awesome community at Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/groups/2230239543/?ref=bookmarks the hottest place for latest CCS-related news and New trials discussion.

 

I hope to update my blog more frequently: http://wishluv.blogspot.com.

 

You can check out my newest artwork at: http://wishluv.deviantart.com.

 

Thank you always for your patience, and head on straight to Chapter 73: The Other Side of Midnight!