******
A little past midnight, Sunday, the day of the Li Group board meeting…
Li Syaoran watched the girl sitting awkwardly on the edge of his bed atop the plaid green duvet cover, her back turned from him. Her short hair was slightly damp from her bath, and little golden brown tendrils fell out of a loose ponytail, down her slim neck.
A few months ago, he was not even sure he would be able to return to this country, this apartment, to her side. And yet, against all odds, here she was, just an arm’s length away. He lifted his left hand, fingers outstretched so that if she tilted just an inch backward, he would be able to touch her. So close, and yet, she felt further from him than ever. There was a time she would confide in him her deepest thoughts and worries, and there was a time when he could read her, just by watching her always changing expressions, the way her smooth brows would crease every so slightly, or her lower lip would quiver. Yet, in that span of a year since they were separated, turned their backs and stamped out their memories of each other, traveled to the Dragon Isles, and reconciled, there was this girl that he could no longer read, no longer completely understand. Was that the price he had to pay for the gamble he took, to return here, to be with her?
Withdrawing his hand, he shifted, turning around on the bed. He uttered a question that had weighed heavy on his heart over the past year. “Why did you go out with Eron?”
After some time, she replied, “I don’t know.” She hesitated. “I wanted to make him happy.”
It was a very Sakura-like answer. He was staring at the wallpaper on the far wall and missed a queer, strained expression that washed over her face. And he asked quietly, “Would you have dated him, even if you hadn’t lost your memories?”
“Yes, I think I would have.”
Usually he appreciated her honesty, but he almost felt reproachful toward her for those words he had dreaded hearing. Syaoran was glad that he was not facing her, for he knew he would frighten her if she could see him now. This unspoken wall between them that he had never noticed before. Had it always been there? Had he just never noticed? Chang Eron. Since the moment he had appeared in their lives three years ago, Syaoran had loathed him, not because he was a Dark One, not because he was a descendant of Chang Ruichi and the son of Chang Ryouta, his fathers’ nemesis, but because he was who he was. Eron had always been lurking near Sakura, with that possessive look in his eyes, biding his time. Syaoran regretted asking, for some things are better left unsaid, unheard. Yet, he also felt a perverse sense of relief, that it had been inevitable, for it was easier to blame inevitability than his own mistakes and missteps.
Because he had nothing to say, he shut his eyes, trying to summon asleep. The Li Group Japan board meeting would be held in several hours, and he hadn’t done any preparation for his presentation since Friday, when Sakura appeared in front of his doorsteps as his manager for the weekend, and Meilin took off for the gymnastics meet. Syaoran hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night either, since Sakura dozed off in the midst of labeling files, a most fascinating process to watch. Her eyes began to droop, then her head bobbed back and forth, and finally she collapsed, forehead first, into the pile of papers. He had leaned over on the table, chin on his arms, watching paper flutter from her soft breath. Before he did anything stupid, he had carried her and dumped her into his bedroom—the nearest room—and shut the door behind him as quickly as possible.
Sakura must have thought he had fallen asleep, for her weight shifted from the other end of the bed and the springs creaked. She whispered, “I’ll turn off the lamp then,” reaching for the switch.
Darkness. He had never been afraid of darkness, or of being alone, until he had entered the place in between dimensions, or as some called it, Limbo. He had not known what true solitude was, what despair was, until he had entered that place. If Sakura had not called him back, he would still be there in the Cavern of Reservoirs. Even now, he did not want to be alone, trapped in his mind, in the web of his greatest fears and anxieties. He uttered the only word he could think of at that moment, “Stay.” He wasn’t sure if Sakura would, and yet, she did.
He did not know who fell asleep first. But when he woke again, from what seemed like deep slumber, there was an unfamiliar warmth by his side. This could be the dream, and the real Syaoran could still be trapped in the Cavern of Reservoirs, in between time and dimensions, and yet, he did not care what was real or not. He gently pulled the duvet cover over Sakura, and brushed away that wisp of hair that always curled in toward her mouth. She let out a little sigh and shifted, so that her body was pressed up to him uncomfortably closely.
“Who said the spell has to break at midnight?” he murmured. He almost thought she had heard him, as she rolled over toward him, arms splayed, and cuddled up against him, head burrowed against his chest, fingers curling around his back. Her chest heaved up and down, so he knew she was fast asleep. An unfamiliar realization flitted across his mind for a split second, and just like the burst of sunlight at dawn, all his anxieties instantly melted away.
She mumbled happily in her sleep, “Bear.”
And this time, Syaoran let out a long sigh, thinking there goes another night of sleep, and murmured in her ear, “If you wish, bear I shall be. Bear I am. I am just a bear.”
His sisters had dressed him up in a teddy bear bodysuit once, when he was in kindergarten and wouldn’t unzip him all day long—he had been so miserable and hot and hated all the attention he received that Halloween. Fanren had made the suit, and Shiefa held him down, while Feimei zipped him in. But it had been his oldest sister, Fuutie, who had issued the order. Fuutie had always been the mastermind, the sister who ran the family since their father died when she was only 10. He had been too young when their father died, and it was likely Fuutie who was hit hardest by his death, because she had always been closest to Li Ryuuren as the first child. For Syaoran, his father had been a vague memory and became a physical presence only in recent years, since the discovery of his journal. And the recent voyage to the Dragon Isles and back had him thinking of what his father’s final moments would have been like, all alone in a cold, desolate place without his loved ones near.
If Sakura had not come with him to the Dragon Isles, he didn’t know if he would have been able to return safely. In that place in between dimensions and suspended from the flow of time, where a second could be eternity and an eternity a second, he had yearned to touch her, feel her, but no matter how far he stretched out his hands, she was separated from him by an invisible barrier. The worst agony had been seeing her right before him and not being able to reach her, no matter how many times he called out her name. Syaoran reached over and cupped Sakura’s pink-flushed cheek in the palm of his hand. She was here, warm, breathing, real. No phantom, ghost or figment of his imagination could be this soft and smell like fresh-cut flowers and honey milk.
******
The first time Li Fuutie saw that woman, she had been seven, and her father was back from a months-long mission and had taken all five siblings out to a Hong Kong department store. It might have been the first and last time Li Ryuuren had taken his four daughters, along with baby Syaoran cradled in one arm, on an outing.
They passed by a perfume counter, and a young Fuutie saw a life-size poster of perhaps the most beautiful woman she had ever seen before. The woman had vivid green eyes, so mesmerizing, and long violet curls cascaded around her, like a queen from a fairytale. She was wearing a wispy white lace dress, and she held up a sparkling pink glass bottle of perfume. The perfume lady handed out little pink slips of paper, spritzed with a sweet, floral scent that lingered around the counter.
Fuutie could never forget that strange expression on her father’s face, one of yearning, nostalgia, and perhaps another emotion she only realized when she grew older. He whispered a name, “Nadeshiko.”
And she also never forgot that foreign word, the name of a flower. It meant pink carnation, she learned later when she studied Japanese.
Their father stood in front of that full-length glossy advertisement as in a trance, only interrupted when baby Syaoran gurgled and dropped his stuffed teddy bear on the floor, demanding it to be retrieved by his doting sisters. Fuutie picked up the beaten-up bear for little Syaoran, and he clasped it gleefully, chewing on its ear. They headed up the escalators to the toy store, and Ryuuren did not look behind.
Only years later did Fuutie learn from some gossiping aunts that her father’s first love had been a girl he met in Japan, Kinomoto Nadeshiko, born Amamiya Nadeshiko.
“Poor Ieran—she waited for him so patiently all those years Ryuuren was in Japan gadding away with that Japanese model—what was her name again?” said one nosey aunt. “That’s right, Nadeshiko.”
“He was madly in love with her, I heard—he even told the Great Elder he will leave the Li Clan to be with her. But of course that didn’t work out,” said a second aunt. “She went behind his back and married another man. Her high school homeroom teacher—I heard he got her pregnant. She was only sixteen. How scandalous.”
For a long time, Fuutie hated that woman who his father in his youth had loved so dearly and broken his heart. And she found herself resenting Ryuuren for still loving that ethereal, beautiful woman, that he had a past unknown to them, other than as a dutiful husband and father, the infallible Chosen One of the Li Clan.
Yet, all these years later, Fuutie thought she could understand her father’s heart at that time, how hard it was to forget the love of his life. She now recognized that what her mother and father had was mutual respect and partnership. Their marriage had been arranged since they were children by their families. It was not love.
Even back in elementary school, her cousin Leiyun had been a precocious child, wildly popular with adults and children alike, yet frustratingly shrewd and pragmatic, poison-tongued to his closest circle of friends. “What’s the point of being jealous of a woman on the other side of the ocean?” he asked her, pinpointing a secret she thought she had kept so well-concealed.
“I’m not jealous!” she exclaimed, slamming shut the Japanese fashion magazine she had borrowed from her cousin Jingmei, one with a double-page spread of that woman. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I know what she looks like; you don’t see a face like that every day. Amamiya Nadeshiko. Uncle Ryuuren’s first love,” said Leiyun, his lips curling in a knowing smile. “That violin piece he composed that you like so much. Uncle Ryuuren composed it for that woman, you know.”
“No he didn’t!” a 10-year-old Fuutie had exclaimed. “It’s a tune he composed for Mother!”
Leiyun, who was the same age as her, gave her an aggravating worldly look. “It’s called ‘Star-Crossed.’ It’s a tune of longing, unrequited love.”
“What do you know about love?” demanded Fuutie, suddenly recalling that her father had never played the song in front of her mother. “You’re just an elementary kid.”
“True, what would I know of love,” Leiyun replied with a careless shrug. “We cannot choose the person we will marry, anyway, so why waste the energy? My parents, your parents, they had arranged marriages, as did the generations of Lis before them. Love makes you weak, fragile, vulnerable.”
“That’s why I won’t ever fall in love,” said Fuutie, hands clenched.
Her cousin swerved around to face her, his turquoise eyes glimmering. “I once heard my father taunting Uncle Ryuuren, calling him foolish, pathetic for losing his heart to that model from Japan who left him for another man. You know what Uncle Ryuuren told him? He said, ‘But isn’t it even sadder not to know of love at all? I’d rather have known of love, of sharing your heart while you can, for that momentary bliss is enough to last you a lifetime.’ And my father’s face turned livid—my parents notoriously despise each other, after all. It was a marvelous scene. Father smashed our priceless heirloom porcelain vase.”
Fuutie couldn’t imagine her stoic father, who spoke sparsely and rarely even smiled, would say something so foolhardy, especially to the rigid, harsh Head of the Li Clan Li Wutai, Leiyun’s father. She agreed it was likely Uncle Wutai had never loved another human being in his life other than himself. But she despised that her father, who was always level-headed, almost terse, had an unknown love, the kind of love that would last him a lifetime. He had a past that their family was not a part of, and he still kept that woman so close to his heart even though a decade had passed.
She was furious when Ryuuren took Syaoran for a trip to Japan—she should have gone since she was the oldest. And she knew he had gone to see that woman with the name of a flower.
Not long after that, her father departed on that fatal final mission. And she never saw him again.
Fuutie would always remember the day she bid her final farewell to her father by the ocean side. It was also the day she met Wu Zino, and the start of her torrential first love.
In the middle of the night, 24-year-old Li Fuutie woke up with a start, with wetness on her cheeks. It had been a long time since she had last dreamed of her father. And she opened her eyes to see a gleaming white beast at the foot of her bed in the darkness of the bedroom of her ancestor’s old estate in the outskirts of Tomoeda, Japan. But she did not scream. The White Tiger stared at her with yellow-brown eyes like lamps in the dark, then turned around, heading out the door. And she followed after the beast, clad in her nightgown, walking down the creaky corridor of the Li mansion, turning the corner, heading to the room of the murderer.
Just down the hallway, Chang Erika sat up from her bed with a start. It was not unusual to hear footsteps outside in the hallway, with the occupants of the house being nocturnal. Yet something felt off, and she slipped her feet into furry slippers and stepped out into the corridor—there was nobody there. Then, she saw Jinyu’s room door was ajar, which was strange, and she rushed down the hallway. Through the open doorway, she saw on top of Jinyu’s bed a woman in a white satin nightgown, short auburn hair falling into her face. And the woman’s fingers were clenched over the throat of the man lying on the bed.
It took a moment before Erika realized that Jinyu was being strangled, and she burst into the room, shouting out loud, “Fuutie-san, stop it!”
Fuutie’s fingers tightened around Jinyu’s throat. “Murderer. You killed him. Why did you kill him?” Jinyu stared up at his cousin unblinkingly, not struggling, as Fuutie’s thumb and forefingers enclosed his neck, blocking off all oxygen.
By then, the rest of the house had awakened, and Leiyun, Kara, Jingmei and Shiefa, rushed into the room.
“Fuutie—what are you doing?” shrieked Shiefa, throwing her arms around Fuutie’s waist, trying to drag her off Jinyu. “Leiyun—help me!”
Leiyun grabbed Fuutie’s wrist as she tried to wring Jinyu’s neck.
“Let go of me!” cried out Fuutie, striking away Leiyun’s arm. “I want to hear an answer! Jinyu!”
“Snap out of it, Fuutie,” said Leiyun, grabbing both her wrists. “You know it wasn’t Jinyu’s fault. If anything, he was as hurt as you are.”
Fuutie retorted, “It’s not as if you were there!”
Shiefa finally managed to drag her older sister away from Jinyu, who sat up on his bed, his hand over his throat.
“Is he all right?” asked Leiyun to his Jingmei.
Jingmei said, “No permanent damage was done. But Fuutie—she looks like she’s in some sort of trance, doesn’t she?”
“I saw him. I saw the White Tiger,” said Fuutie in a sing-song voice. “He was here.”
“Shiefa, Jingmei, take Fuutie to her room and calm her down,” said Leiyun. “Jin, are you really okay?”
“I saw him too,” Jinyu said slowly. “The White Tiger.”
Leiyun frown. “Kara and I will try to track this creature and figure out what it really is. Fuutie, go get some rest now. Tomorrow—more like today—is the Li Group board of trustees meeting.”
“I can’t stay here,” said a pallid Fuutie, staring at her trembling hands. “I tried to kill Jinyu.”
“You’re under the influence of a dark force,” said Leiyun gently. “We’ll find a way to resolve it, don’t worry.”
“I'll leave," said Fuutie, shutting her eyes. “I might try to do something to him again.”
“No, you stay," said Leiyun. “Jinyu can leave the house for a couple of days.”
“That's not right," said Fuutie stiffly. “I'm the problem.”
Leiyun replied, “If you are, then I want to be by you just in case. Jinyu, you can get a room at Hoshi Plaza Hotel in Tokyo with Dairen and the others. Or if you want to stay closer, Syaoran’s apartment across town has a spare bedroom.”
After the others filed out of the room, Erika turned to the Black Dragon, his long, disheveled ponytail draped over one shoulder, who had not moved an inch from the edge of his bed. “If someone chokes you in the middle of the night, isn’t it natural instinct to fight back?” He did not respond, so she continued, “Are those stories even true, that you killed the previous head of the Hong Kong triads?”
Jinyu stared down at his hands. “If truth is what is known as fact, then I suppose yes.”
Erika was peeved by his non-answer. She was sure Jinyu would not stay at the hotel, nor Syaoran’s apartment, for she had noticed he did not seem to get along with Dairen and his business cronies. Nor was the triad boss particularly close to Syaoran—they were positively awkward around each other. In fact, the Black Dragon, as it appeared, didn't seem to get along with any of the Lis beside Leiyun. She could tell half the Li Clan was afraid of the triad boss, and the others were wary of him or just liked to keep distance, possibly even shunning him because he was mafia.
Few minutes later, Erika, fully dressed, stood at the front door, awaiting Jinyu who walked down the stair well with a black duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Where are you heading out to?” she called out.
He shrugged.
“If you don't mind, why don't you come stay at my place?” she said, immediately regretting it the moment she blurted out the offer. He stared at her profusely, and she was sure he was going to turn her down.
To her dismay, he replied, “Okay.”
Erika swallowed hard. What had possessed her to suggest such a terrible idea? What in the world would Eron say? Would he even allow the Black Dragon in the house? “Well, I was about to head home because I don't really want to stay under the same roof with Syaoran's lunatic sister—I mean, if she attacks you for god knows what reason, what would she do to me? You know, daughter of the man who killed her father.”
Jinyu stared at her for a moment after her poor attempt at a joke but followed her out to the streets.
“We live walking distance from here,” said Erika. “It's a nice night out, so I guess we can take a stroll—it's around 15 minutes away from here.”
“I know,” he said.
Erika peeked in through the front door of her house, and to her relief found the lights were off, meaning Eron must be asleep already. “You can come in,” she whispered to Jinyu. She tiptoed across the living room and nearly screamed when Eron in his maroon satin robe stared up at her in the dark, golden eyes identical to her own gleaming like a tabby cat’s.
“What are you doing stalking around without the lights on?” asked Erika.
“Same goes to you,” said Chang Eron, holding a glass of red wine. His gaze slowly moved from Erika to the Black Dragon. “What is he doing here?” And then it suddenly dawned upon him and he demanded, finger pointed, “Wait, are you two?”
“No!” exclaimed Erika, following Eron's train of thought. “He had a family situation—you know Syaoran's crazy sisters are staying at the Li mansion. So I told him he could stay here for a couple of nights.”
“Why?” asked a suspicious Eron.
“We have like five spare rooms that aren't being used,” Erika replied with a careless shrug.
“They're dusty—we only clean our rooms and the living space,” said Eron. “We've never had guests over.”
“He doesn't care," said Erika, jerking her head towards Jinyu. “He's the one who lived in the cockroach-infested house. Oh wait, that was because of you releasing the Insect.”
“So, he doesn't want to live with Syaoran's psycho sisters, or the sisters don't want to live with mafia?” muttered Eron.
Erika whispered to Eron, “Fuutie tried to strangle him this time.”
Eron chuckled. “Darn it, she didn't succeed? That's always my primitive reaction, to strangle him when I get on stage with him for Cinderella rehearsals and he fails to deliver the lines, every single time.”
“Go to bed,” she told her twin with a sigh, thinking this was going to be a very long week. Erika promptly showed Jinyu to a spare room, wondering why it wasn't awkward at all when she stayed over at the Li mansion, but having him here suddenly felt like an intrusion of her privacy.
Odder enough, Eron didn't seem to care much that Jinyu was staying over. She was sure he would throw a bigger fuss at bringing a virtual stranger home. Maybe they had gotten closer during the Cinderella rehearsals. Then again, Eron had always been a more sociable person than she had been. Even back at the orphanage, he had been popular with the kids and staff, while she had only been tolerated because she was his sister. There were many nice elderly couples who had wanted to adopt a pretty, polite boy like him, but they didn’t want her, a sickly, bratty child, and Eron hadn’t wanted to be separated from her. She had spoiled his chance to grow up with loving parents, experience a normal childhood. And she didn’t feel the least bit sorry about it.
******
It was the last day of the regional high school gymnastics meet, and Li Meilin was confident her team would take the gold. One part of her was anxious about the Li Group Japan’s board meeting which should be taking place this very moment, but she had no doubt Sakura would be enough inspiration for Syaoran to do well.
“Meilin, you’re up next!” called out her teammate, and she nodded, her attention completely on the floor.
Meilin stood in the center of the floor, toes pointed, in a bedazzling skin-tight crimson leotard with garnet sequence lining the bodice and long sleeves. Her black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail tightly braided. The tantalizing Carmen Fantasy Op. 25 blasted on, and she ran across the mat, crimson ribbon rippling behind her.
From the far end of the gymnasium, Mizuki Kai watched Meilin catch the wand of her ribbon deftly with the snap of her wrist, animated like a fiery gypsy, just like three springs ago when he had watched a certain acrobat preparing for the Seijou Junior High circus-themed cultural festival. The streaming red ribbon encircled her like a flaming trail. It was the first time he had watched her in an actual competition. It was clear that there was no other competitor in the gymnasium that could rival her in the slightest bit. There was nothing timid or formulaic about her performance—her powerful jumps, the bend of her wrists, the tilt of her head, with her long black ponytail trailing behind her—everything was sharp, fierce, and bold. She was not mechanically going through a routine, she was unrestrained, dancing, engaging the onlookers with her flaming gaze, her mesmerizing black-lashed eyes flashing like garnets. He may never have seen anything more enticing.
After her number came to an end, Meilin, chest heaving, finally caught sight of him watching from a distance, a tall silhouette dressed in black, looking quite like a rock star—or a gangster. He was drawing quite a few curious stares from the students of the host school in his pitch black sunglasses and leather motorcycle jacket, arms crossed, casually leaned against the gymnasium doorway.
“Kai! You came!” Meilin exclaimed as he walked up to her with a bottle of water, after the medal ceremony. “How long were you watching?”
“Since the beginning—how could I miss the lovely sight of you in that bedazzling skin-tight apparel,” he drawled back. “Kudos to Tomoyo.”
Meilin held up the blue ribbon with the large medallion hanging from her neck. “Look, I got a gold medal in rhythmic gymnastics!”
“Not even real gold,” remarked Kai, biting the medal.
She pouted. “Unlike you, Mr. Archery Champion, it’s my first gold medal.”
“Really? Have all the other judges been blind to date?” Kai grinned.
“No, I was just never able to train and compete consistently,” replied Meilin. “With all my transferring back and forth from Hong Kong and Japan.”
Kai extended a hand. “Well, I’ll have to reward you thoroughly then. Come, let’s go!”
“My teammates are waiting in the bus back to Tomoeda.”
“Let the coach know you’ll be going separately,” Kai told her. “Go get changed.”
“Where are we doing?” asked Meilin.
“Anywhere besides home,” he replied with a chuckle. “What were you thinking, lying to Syaoran and Sakura that the gymnastics meet will take all weekend? Where were you thinking of spending the night?”
“Oh, I was going to figure it out on my own,” replied Meilin with a casual shrug. “How are they doing? Any progress?”
Kai raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. It’s not like I spent the night with my ear pressed up against our shared wall.”
“I was under the impression that you did,” said Meilin. “What were you doing all weekend long then? You’re supposed to help prod them along. Aren’t you good at that?”
“I’m not their fairy godmother. I didn’t see them all of yesterday, and today, I drove up early to come watch you, and Syaoran should be in the board meeting right now.”
“I wonder how that’s going,” Meilin with a frown. “Maybe it was a bad idea abandoning him before such an important meeting.”
“I thought it was unusual of you," remarked Kai. “Weren’t you worried about leaving Syaoran alone before the Li Group board of trustees meeting?”
Meilin smiled slightly. “Of course I am. But I trust that he needs Sakura more than he needs me.”
“The two just squabble all the time, and I won't be surprised if Sakura distracted him from his work more than aiding him.”
“That's exactly what he needs,” replied Meilin. “A distraction. Syaoran's always super-motivated and hardworking. He doesn't know when to stop. Even more so when he's with me, because he will always feel a sense of duty over me. When I was younger, I was hurt because of that barrier I felt, that he was tolerating me because of a sense of obligation. I've gotten over that because I know that's just the kind of considerate person he always has been. But he's different with Sakura. He can be a little bit selfish, a little bit childish. He doesn't feel obligated to be on his best behavior or stand to represent the Li Clan. With her, he can just relax and be himself.”
“I see," said Kai with a grin. “You wanted Syaoran to have a break before the big meeting, so he doesn't overwork himself. When did you grow so insightful? What an observant assistant you are. I'm almost jealous.”
“Almost?” Meilin asked.
“Yeah. I wouldn't want to be micromanaged all the time,” said Kai with a shudder.
Scowling, Meilin retorted, “As if anyone can try to manage you. Even Miho's given up by now.”
“Well Syaoran’s quite a handful himself. Though I guess he’s a bit helpless when it comes to Sakura.”
“You know there's one thing Syaoran enjoys more than bullying Sakura,” said Meilin. “And that's pampering Sakura.”
“Something he can enjoy only in private,” murmured Kai with a lopsided grin. “Now, hurry and tell the teacher your guardian came to pick you up. I’ll go start up the engine.”
“Who’s my guardian!” she retorted before heading back to the locker room.
The other girls had finished changing, and her teammates all gave Meilin a pat on her back and congratulated her. Meilin kept her hair in a ponytail but changed into her casual clothes—a flowing bohemian-style flower-print dress paired with a distressed tan suede jacket. She stuffed her uniform into her duffel bag, glad that she had brought a nice outfit along.
“Did your boyfriend come pick you up?” asked one of her teammates.
Meilin nodded.
“Don’t worry, we’ll transfer your equipment to the bus and make up an excuse to the teacher. Hurry, go.”
“Thanks!” Meilin exclaimed. Then she grabbed her duffel bag and ran outside to the parking lot. She quickly spotted the flashy black convertible, and got into the passenger seat.
“Meilin-nee-chan!” exclaimed a shrill voice from the backseat.
Meilin gawked at the younger girl. “Miho-chan! You’re here too?”
“Why, disappointed?” asked Kai. “You thought it would just be the two of us?”
“N-no!” exclaimed Meilin. “But this is a rare sight—the two of you out together.”
“Yeah, I’m her chauffeur for the day,” said Kai with a sigh. “Completely ruining my date course. But how often is it that my baby sister asks a favor of me nowadays.”
“So, where were you heading to?” asked Meilin.
“Mizuki Shrine,” said Kai. “Miho’s never visited and wanted to check it out.”
“On Mount Kumatori?” asked Meilin. “Isn’t that quite a drive?”
“It’s actually not too far from this school—which is why I was able to stop by and check you out.”
“I’ve been badgering onii-chan for weeks to take me, and he always said he was busy,” stated Miho. She held up her DSLR camera. “I’m also covering the girls’ gymnastic team’s victory for our school paper, so I’m killing two birds with one stone. By the way, you were marvelous—congratulations on the gold medal! I wish I was that athletic, but I’m as flexible as a wooden stick. I especially loved your ribbon routine—you were the best!”
“Sakura-chan’s really good too,” remarked Meilin graciously. “But I’m a little better.”
After late lunch at a ramen shop, Kai drove them as far up into Mount Kumatori as possible, and parked his car when the road came to an end. They had to go up the rest of the way on foot. Meilin kicked off her pretty pumps and stuffed her feet into her gym sneakers from her duffel bag.
It was fascinating to watch Kai meld into the forests, for she had always thought him to be an urbanite. But the chameleon that he was, he blended right into the woods, as if he had always lived here in the mountains. He would have probably sped up the mountain much quicker, but seemed to pace himself so that Miho—who was not having a good time hiking—could keep up.
And the further they walked up an overgrown path, as they climbed deeper and deeper into the mountains, the more it felt like they were being transported back into the past. They finally reached the bottom of steep stone stairs leading up to a Shinto shrine at the top of the summit. At the top of the steps was a red torii structure, which marked the entrance of the shrine. It was Meilin’s second time coming here with Kai. Nothing had changed since their last visit, except the trees were a lush green, rather than the autumnal hues of red and gold.
“So this is the Mizuki Shrine,” said Miho in awe, craning her neck. “The home of our ancestors. And where you stayed, nii-chan, after you left home, for a while, right?”
“Yeah.” He placed his palms together and bowed his head in quiet prayer. “I’m back, Mayura-sama. How have you been doing?”
“Is she still here?” asked Miho, glancing around.
“No.” Kai said, slowly walking around the shrine, which was surprisingly well kept.
“Kaho-san comes here every so often to keep it maintained,” said Miho. “But she never brought me along.”
“There are many ancient forces lying here deep in the woods of Mount Kumatori, better left undisturbed,” Kai murmured, placing a hand on a tree trunk. “It is not a safe place to wander about.”
“But you lived here, alone, for half a year,” said Miho, peaking inside the temple and seeing the bare wood floors. “How did you survive in a place like this?” She could see a twelve-year-old boy with auburn hair, sitting on the floor, by himself, in this isolated, lonely place.
He smiled ruefully. “I wasn’t completely alone. There was Mayura-sama.”
“I wish I could have met Mayura-sama as well,” said Miho ruefully.
“You might still get a chance to, someday,” replied Kai.
“I hope so. There are so many questions I would have liked to ask her.”
“She probably wouldn’t answer,” said Kai. “She’s very good at evading questions.”
“I guess she’s kind of like you in that way,” Miho pointed out.
Meilin awkwardly folded her hand in front of her, feeling as if she were intruding on a sacred, private sibling moment. She had felt somewhat special when Kai had brought her up here last time. It was as if he had finally stripped off a mask and was revealing a part of himself that he had never shared with anyone else with her. Of course, she couldn’t be jealous of Miho, the little sister he had given up everything in order to protect. And they would have so much to catch up on because of those lost years that could never be recovered.
“Last time we were here on a school trip, Meilin snuck into the boys’ cabin in the middle of the night to see me because she could bear to be apart form me,” said Kai teasingly.
“I did not!” said Meilin, blushing red.
Miho sighed. “I so wanted to be in high school and go on that trip with you guys back then.”
Kai shook his head. “Oh no you didn’t. It was absolutely chaos, with Sakura losing her sight because of the Veil, and her power totally wacky because she was operating on the moon power, and Syaoran lurking around but pretending not to be here.”
“I can’t believe you kept it a secret from me that Syaoran was at Mount Kumatori that time,” said Meilin. “And that it was Syaoran who saved Sakura from falling off the cliff, not Eron. How come he reached out to you and not me?”
“He was hiding his presence from Sakura at that time, it couldn’t be helped,” replied Kai.
“So much happened during that trip,” sighed Miho. “I’m bummed I missed all the fun.”
“It was not fun!” Meilin and Kai said simultaneously.
“Well, thank goodness our Sakura-chan’s back to normal, and Syaoran’s no longer a puppet of the Li Clan Elders,” said Kai, clearing his throat.
“True,” said a female voice from behind the trees. “Syaoran isn’t the complete bore I used to think he was, now that he’s actually standing up for himself.”
“Kara Reed!” exclaimed Miho, as the blonde older girl, dressed in tight black leather shorts and an oversized boat-necked black-and-red striped sweater, stepped out from between the trees. A silver cross pendant on a black choker matched her cross-shaped earrings.
Meilin’s eyes flitted to Kai, who did not seem startled at all. When had he noticed Kara was here? Or had he known she was going to be here? Had they planned to meet?
“What are you doing here, Rido-senpai?” demanded Miho.
“Enjoying the fresh mountain air,” replied Kara with a yawn.
Behind her, Chang Erika swatted at the flies and grumbled, “Darned Leiyun making us come up here. It’s so humid.”
“This is a sacred place, not for the likes of you to be here,” stated Miho with a frown as Jinyu appeared from behind them, a butterfly fluttering around his nose.
“Shouldn’t you be at the Li Clan board meeting?” Meilin asked Jinyu.
Kara smiled crookedly. “What, and flaunt the Li Group’s connection with the Hong Kong triads to the board of trustees?” She circled the shrine and came upon a tall tree and halted. Suddenly quiet, she traced the tally marks carved into the bark with the tip of her fingers.
With a frown, Kai told her, “You won’t find it here.”
“What do you think we are here for?” asked Kara, with a tilt of her head.
Meilin’s eyes flitted between Kara and Kai. When the two of them were together, they always seemed lost in their own world, speaking their own language, reacting off of each other through discreet glances. And Kai, who was usually so lax around everyone else, was always on the edge with her.
It was Miho who first declared with a shudder, “Don’t you feel some immensely strong force?”
Meilin spun around, and even without any powers, she heard unearthly wailing sounds from all around them. Miho let out a yelp and collapsed onto her knees, clutching her palms over her ears. Flocks of different woodland birds flew overhead, westward.
“What’s that?” Meilin exclaimed.
“The seal on Mount Kumatori has collapsed,” said Kai grimly.
Meilin blinked. “There was a seal on Mount Kumatori?”
“Of course. It’s a sacred place for the Great Five,” replied Kai. “And also for the Mizuki family.”
“So, what does it mean that this seal is broken?” asked Meilin with a frown.
But it was Miho who pointed behind them to distance and said, “Look!”
They were surrounded by blue flame, like the other night, but this time, it was much fiercer and taller, as it could swallow the mountain whole.
“It’s yokai fire!” exclaimed Miho.
“We’ve got to escape!” exclaimed Meilin, trying to walk toward the shrine steps, but Kai grabbed her by her wrist.
“This is the safest place on the mountain right now,” said Kai. “There are extra powerful barriers around the shrine. Nothing will be able to penetrate here, at least for now.”
“What is that?” said Erika, pointing to the distance.
A huge, grotesque creature, taller than all the trees surrounding them, rose up to its full height, turning toward them.
“King Kong!” exclaimed Meilin.
“Godzilla?” Miho said.
“There, you did it, you’ve awakened the great mountain ogre,” muttered Kai. “It
has a nasty temper, and Mayura-sama said the Great Five had a terrible time
sealing that one.”
Miho glared at Erika. “Why did you break the seal?”
“Who said it was me!” retorted Erika.
“Who else?” replied Miho.
Kai circled around the shrine and remarked, “The barrier around the shrine was originally near indestructible, so long as Mayura-sama’s spirit guarded the place. But I don’t know how long it will hold up because she is no longer here.”
“What are you doing?” asked Erika with a frown as she watched Kai retrieve a wood bow from the storage room, along with a quiver of feather-tipped arrows.
“Arming myself,” said Kai, restringing the old bow. “You guys probably need to brace yourself as well. Once the barrier around the shrine completely collapses I can probably take down the ogre but as for the other yokai and mountain spirits out there, I don’t know how many are lurking and how many will attack us. They’ve been sealed for a long time, they will be very hungry and agitated.”
“Hungry? It’s not like they eat humans,” said Erika, laughing nervously. “Why are you talking as if we are in some great peril? I’m sick of the mountains, I’m leaving.” She stomped up toward the edge of the barrier and tried to pass through, but Kai reached out and pulled her back.
“Idiot, that barrier works both ways,” exclaimed Kai. “It’s an emergency offense-type barrier, which works both ways—it will fry what ever tries to come in and what ever tries to go out, and until someone works out how to lift it, we’re stuck in here.”
“What sort of nonsense logic is that—I’m going to leave!” declared Erika. To prove his point, Kai strung an arrow to his bow and let it loose. The arrow flew out in an arc, and as it struck what must have been the edge of the barrier, it burst into flames and dissolved into ashes.
“W-what kind of barrier is that?” demanded Erika.
Kai stared up at the overcast sky. “This was the spot where the Dark One was killed. The Four set a trap on him. They made it so that when there is too much dark energy gathered here, the barrier would be activated. If they failed to kill him, they planned to trap him here eternally. But Plan B did not take place because Ruichi-sama was killed that night by Mizuki Mayura’s arrow.”
Meilin shuddered, feeling a chill in her bones as if the ghost of Chang Ruichi was still there.
“Eternally?” squeaked Erika. “Don’t be silly, lift the barrier, so we can all go home.”
“I’m afraid it’s not within my powers to do so,” said Kai. “I was always weak at barriers in general, and Mayura-sama never got around to telling me how to properly control the shrine barrier. Besides, it was placed by the Great Five, so I imagine the only person who will be able to figure out how to lift it will be someone at the rank of Clow Reed, the master of barriers, himself.”
Miho muttered to herself, “Eriol, I have to call Eriol. Please there be reception up here.” She held up her mobile phone, checking the bars. “No! We don’t have reception up here. We’re stuck!”
With a long sigh, Kai handed her his phone. “Try mine.”
To Miho’s relief, the signal went through.
“Why does only your phone work?” demanded Erika.
Kai smirked. “It will be released in the market next year if test trials run smoothly. We’re taking preorders though.”
Jinyu looked contemplative, and Kara turned to the mafia boss. “Don’t you even think about buying it—it’ll probably be wiretapped anyway.”
******
Setting down a dandelion ball gown she was sewing for the school play, Daidouji Tomoyo heaved a wistful sigh as her Sunday unfolded painstakingly slowly. “I wonder how Sakura and Syaoran are doing in Tokyo. I wish I can go spy on them.”
“We can, if you want to,” said her partner in crime, Hiiragizawa Eriol, who was patiently sewing on little gold sequins in flower swirls onto the billowing skirt, as directed by Tomoyo. His parlor had transformed into a sewing factory over that weekend.
“Don’t tempt me. I have to finish this ball gown today,” mumbled Tomoyo. “The Li Clan board meeting should be long over, but Sakura hasn’t called me once, all weekend long. That’s a good sign, right? She usually texts me at least once a day, more like ten times. But not one single message.”
Akizuki Nakuru came in with the cordless phone and said, “Miho-chan is asking for you, Eriol. Looks like she’s in a pinch.”
Eriol set down the case of sequins and took the phone. He listened quietly and said, “Okay, I got it. Stay put. We’ll be there.”
With a frown, Tomoyo glanced up at Eriol. “Did something happen to Miho-chan?”
“I have to head over to Mount Kumatori,” said Eriol.
“Mount Kumatori? Why? Can I come along?” asked Tomoyo.
“What about the ball gown?”
“I’m not making much progress anyway, with me wondering how Sakura and Syaoran are doing,” replied Tomoyo, tossing the dress into her sewing basket. “I will welcome the distraction.”
Crawling out of the rolls off fabric, Kero-chan, who had been staying at Eriol’s while his mistress was summoned as Syaoran’s assistant over the weekend, remarked, “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
Suppi-chan said, “Miho should have more sense than to go to Mount Kumatori alone.”
“She’s with her brother and Meilin,” said Mizuki Kaho. “And the Mizuki Shrine will protect them from harm.”
“Harm from what?” asked Tomoyo.
“I’ll start up the car,” said Nakuru, who was off on Sundays.
Eriol did not seem surprised when Eron, who lived only a block away, was waiting by the gateway. “You’re heading to Mount Kumatori, right? Give me a ride.”
“How did you know?” asked Tomoyo.
Eron replied grimly, “I think Erika’s up there too.”
“Is that twin telepathy?” Tomoyo remarked. “So, what exactly is going on up there?”
Eron said, “Someone released the seal on Mount Kumatori, a sacred location. Yokai, demons, evil spirits and whatever else lurks on that mountain have all been freed for the first time in a century and a half.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” murmured Tomoyo, unable to contain her grin.
It was tight in the blue Beetle with Nakuru driving and Kaho in the front seat, and Tomoyo squeezed between Eron and Eriol in the back, with Suppi-chan and Kero-chan in her bag. She almost regretted not calling her bodyguards as Nakuru took a sharp turn and sent the backseat passengers hurling to the right. Tomoyo, untangling herself from Eriol’s lap, wondered if the rattling vintage car would be able to make it up the steep Mount Kumatori. Did Nakuru even have a legitimate driver’s license?
******
A woman with long auburn hair tied back with a white band, dressed in the red hakama of a miko swept the dead leaves of the stone stairs leading up to the shrine with a broom. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched the Chinese girl with jet-black hair, dressed in a forest green cheongsam, dash at a brown-haired man in a blue kimono seated underneath the cherry blossom tree with her gleaming sword with the agility of a feral cat.
Without flitting an eye, Amamiya Hayashi deftly blocked the blade with his unsheathed katana, still holding the book he was reading with his left hand.
“Amamiya Hayashi, I will defeat you once and for all!” called out Li Shulin, the Chosen One of the Li Clan of Shanghai. “Stop evading me and fight me, fair and square!” Hayashi, without a strand of fair brown hair straying from place, casually ducked as the younger girl attacked again, red tassel streaming out behind her from the hilt of her sword. Someone without knowledge of kendo would have thought Shulin had the advantage, but the man with grass green eyes actually had the upper hand; despite the uninterested look on his face, he clearly could read the younger girl’s next movements, and his steps were light and blocks exact.
“Are those two at it again, Mayura?” asked Chang Ruichi, a pretty light-built boy with long violet hair pulled up into a high ponytail. “Doesn’t she ever give up?”
With a chuckle, Mizuki Mayura, the miko of the shrine on Mount Kumatori, replied, “I don’t think Shulin will ever give up on defeating the best swordsman of Edo.”
“Why doesn’t Hayashi just lose to her then?” drawled the tall man with striking long golden hair and amethyst eyes, Lord Landon Leed of England.
“Because that would injure Shulin’s pride even more,” replied Mayura. “It’s Hayashi’s courtesy toward her.”
A soft-spoken girl with curly violet hair in a dandelion kimono which brought out the golden hue of her eyes, Ruichi’s twin sister Risa, said, “I don’t think she is even serious about challenging Hayashi-sama anymore.”
Sure enough, Shulin abruptly put away her sword and announced, “I’m hungry, Hayashi, what are we having for dinner?”
But Hayashi glanced up and unsheathed his katana with a flick of his wrist, swerved around, and threw his sword at an unnoticed target behind them. There was an unearthly growl. “Mountain ogre,” he announced. “Not what we’re having for dinner—I meant behind you. Ogres probably won’t taste good. Though I’ve never tried them.”
The other five turned around and saw a mountain ogre come crashing down with a thud. Hayashi held up his sheath and summoned his sword back.
“What kind of monstrous aim is that?” murmured Ruichi, half in awe, half in shock.
Mayura glanced at him with a smile and agreed, “Abnormal.”
“You thought he actually was completely useless just because he messes around all the time?” remarked Landon. “He doesn’t have the moniker best swordsman of Japan for no reason.”
Shulin sputtered, “By any chance, was that the ogre that we scoured for a week and couldn’t take down? And you just watched?”
Hayashi blinked. “Was it? Ogres all look the same to me. How about some river trout for dinner?”
“I don’t like fish,” said Ruichi sullenly.
“That should go well with the fresh mountain vegetables I gathered this morning,” said Mayura.
Ruichi mumbled, “I hate vegetables.”
“You’re not going to grow any taller if you don’t eat your vegetables,” declared Landon, the oldest and tallest of the group, slapping the younger boy on the shoulder.
Risa giggled. “Onii-sama is such a picky eater.”
Hayashi announced, “We probably should reinforce the barrier around the Mizuki Shrine later—all of us being gathered here attracts too many forces around the mountain.”
Ruichi nodded. “It was easy tracking you guys here because of the ridiculous aura you all emitted.”
“I never thought onii-sama and I would find you all and be here like this,” said Risa, cheeks flushed. “I can imagine some day in the future, people would remember you as the Great Five, the alliance of the most powerful magicians of the East and West.”
“Why not Great Six?” asked Hayashi. “There are six of us.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly be included,” said Risa, shaking her head furiously. “I don’t have any powers, and besides, I’m here just to support onii-sama.”
And Hayashi smiled gently and patted her on the head. “Some people come into their powers later in life. Everybody develops at his or her own pace. But I do like the name you have given us. A century or two from now, when we no longer exist, I wonder if the name of the Great Five may be what remains of our legacy.”
Whispers of yesteryears could be heard in the gentle breeze, sitting up here at the Mizuki Shrine atop Mount Kumatori which had been frozen in a moment in time, isolated from the bustling outside world. With a barrier around Mizuki Shrine sealing them in, there was not much to do for the odd group gathered there but to sit on the wooden engawa, the outdoor veranda encircling the main structure. Tanaka Miho wondered if two centuries ago, a group similar-aged to them, then known as the Great Five, sat on these very wooden engawa, watching the afternoon, talking idly of this and that. Amamiya Hayashi, the ringleader from Edo, Li Shulin, the Chosen One from Shanghai, Lord Landon Reed of England, shrine maiden Mizuki Mayura of Kyoto and her ancestor, and Chang Ruichi and Risa, the mysterious twins of unknown origin.
At first, Kara and Erika stood outside in the yard, but there was a passing shower, and they came over and sat on the other edge of the engawa, taking shelter from the rain. But Jinyu seemed content to sit by the large cherry blossom tree outside to keep guard. Luckily, the demon fire didn’t seem to have spread any further, and the ogre and other yokai seemed repelled by the barrier and had not made any attempt to break through to the shrine.
Miho clutched her stomach which rumbled lowly. “I wonder if Eriol and the others are going to take much longer.”
“It’s not a short drive here,” replied Meilin. “And Nakuru doesn’t seem to be the most reliable driver in the world.”
Glancing over at her older brother, Miho asked, “So, this was your living quarters? Which room was yours?”
Kai, who was lying back eyes shut on the wooden floor, hands laced behind his back, bow and arrow laid out next to him, replied, “None of them, really. I liked sleeping out here, looking up at the stars, at least when it was warm and dry.”
“You actually lived here? What did you eat? Grass?” remarked Erika, aghast.
“Whatever fruits were in season. Fresh mountain vegetables. Wild berries. It took me a while to figure out what was poisonous and not,” replied Kai. “The caretaker of the shrine had left some rice as well though it was too much of a bother to cook in the cast iron pot. Sometimes I caught fish in the stream. But it was too messy to gut and skin.”
Miho could not imagine her class president brother in this isolated place, catching fish in the stream with his bare hands and gutting it like a scavenger.
Erika asked, “How long exactly did you stay here?”
“Long enough to see two seasons change,” replied Kai.
Miho stared at her brother who was always patient and jovial toward all of them, who was civil even to Erika, and yet, he seemed to be staring off into a far off place, a place that was unreachable to her. He had been so close by when he had disappeared six years ago. She had spent that period of her life hating him for leaving her and their mother, and she had been sure she would never forgive him. He had deliberately made her think he had abandoned them, so that she would reproach him and not search for him. And yet, during that time, what had he been feeling, living in such solitude in this desolate place, with naught but the spirit of their ghostly ancestor as company?
“Eriol!” exclaimed Miho as she spotted the silhouette of the crew arrive up the steep stairwell to the shrine. “We’re saved! What took so long?”
“We got lost,” mumbled Nakuru, glaring at a smiling Kaho. “We trusted that woman with directions.”
Tomoyo said, “Eriol was making sure that there were no stray people up here on the mountains—luckily the main path has been closed off because of flooding from rainfall yesterday.”
“You didn’t have any trouble passing through the yokai?” asked Meilin.
Eron reached the top of the steps, looking around the mountain. “We encountered a few along the way, but they’re still in a pretty weakened state after being sealed for such along time.”
And Erika groaned. “Why did they bring my dratted brother along? He’s just going to give me an earful.”
Solemnly, Eriol circled the outer edge of the shrine and said gravely, “This is a complex, layered barrier, as expected from the Great Five.”
“Then, you can’t break it?” asked Miho from inside.
“I didn’t say that,” said Eriol. “Like all barriers, it can be broken. That, or the imminent danger can be stopped.”
“Meaning, the yokai have to be sealed again,” murmured Kaho. “Eriol, if you take on the barrier, I’ll work on the yokai.”
“They’ve been sealed for a very long time—I can sense they’re very agitated,” said Kero-chan with a frown.
“There are too many out here to handle out here on your own, Kaho,” said Eriol.
Ruby Moon flicked back her long hair and declared, “Spinel Sun, Cerberus, and I can take them on as well, though we can only lure them, and Kaho will need to exorcise any that are harmful. Eriol, you just focus on cracking the barrier.”
“My, my, I didn’t realize we are having a party up here,” came a suave voice from behind them.
It was Leiyun in a sleek black suit, crisply ironed white shirt, and a loosened bowtie, looking as if he came straight from some fancy dinner party in the city. “When, you said there was a state of emergency up here, Jin, I didn’t realize that it was a whole big picnic happening up here.”
“Li-sensei!” exclaimed Tomoyo. “Shouldn’t you be at the Li Clan board meeting?”
“That ended hours ago,” said Leiyun with a thin smile. “Say, Syaoran had the gall to bring Sakura with him to the board meeting as his personal assistant.”
“Where are they right now?” Tomoyo questioned breathlessly.
“Who knows,” replied Leiyun. “I was having a dinner banquet with Li Group business partners, which Syaoran artfully ditched. And I haven’t seen the two since the board meeting ended earlier in the afternoon.”
Tomoyo tried to control herself from grinning like a fool, and was interrupted by Miho asking, “Well, shouldn’t we call them then?”
“No!” exclaimed Tomoyo, Meilin, and Kai in unison.
Clearing her throat, Meilin said, “Between Eriol, Leiyun, and Mizuki-sensei, I’m sure we can figure out this barrier business. What’s the use in calling Sakura here—they must be exhausted from preparing for the board meeting. Besides, yokai and seals are not even her area of expertise.”
Miho pointed at Leiyun. “You’re the one who broke the seal on Mount Kumatori, aren’t you?”
Leiyun blinked. “I just arrived here, you realize. I was at the Li Clan board meeting all day long—when would I have had the time to take down such an immense seal?”
Miho paced back and forth. “It’s an alibi—who knows if he really was there? Maybe he was here the whole time, breaking the mountain seal.”
“It’s not an alibi, we were in the meeting the whole day,” said Fuutie, stepping up from behind them, dressed in a fancy navy blue qipao printed with red and pink peonies. She wiped the sweat from her brows. “Gosh, you were not kidding when you said that will be quite a climb, Lei.”
“So this is the famed Mount Kumatori,” murmured Shiefa, in a heavily embroidered green qipao printed with cranes. “So many different energies are flowing through this place, some so ancient, from before our time and that of the Great Five.”
“Of course,” said Kai, feeling the breeze run through his hair. “This mountain has stood here long before the era of the Great Five and will continue to stand here long after our time. From the beginning of time to the end. That is what Mayura-sama said. That we must protect nature and become one with it. Those who try to go against nature will be devoured by nature.”
Fuutie gazed curiously at the mysterious boy in black on the other side of the barrier who looked completely misplaced and yet at home at this ancient shrine. “This Mayura-sama you speak of. You don’t mean the Mizuki Mayura-sama of the Great Five? You speak as if you know her.”
“You can say I did,” Kai replied cryptically.
“What are Syaoran’s sisters doing here?” hissed Meilin.
Leiyun sighed. “I was trying to sneak out of the dinner banquet quietly, and they caught me.”
Shiefa said, “This is far much more exciting. I’ve always wanted to meet yokai.”
Erika crossed her arms and remarked, “Well, you’re all here now. It doesn’t matter who gets us out of the barrier around the shrine, but can we speed things along before we burn down with this whole mountain?”
Eron scowled at her. “I told you not to mess with that crowd. Do you even realize what Mount Kumatori means to us?”
“Where it all began, and where it all shall end,” murmured Kara, staring out into the darkened sky, lit by blue flames that flickered higher and higher. “Look, we may not have as much time as we thought.”
“I still think we need to call Sakura,” declared Eron. “If the barrier is to be broken, we probably need to have an Amamiya descendent as well.”
Tomoyo interrupted, “If that’s the case, though I may not have any powers, I’m still a descendent of Amamiya Hayashi-sama. I have the Amamiya blood too.”
“So you do,” Leiyun remarked. “Do you realize that this is the first time that all the bloodlines of the Great Five are gathered together at this very shrine, since, well since the night the Great Five was destroyed?”
There was something significant about those words, but Tomoyo was distracted by the pensive look that flitted in Eriol’s midnight eyes as he gazed upon the Mizuki Shrine, as if lost in thought of times gone by.
Leiyun also watched Clow Reed’s reincarnation. “Well, I’m honestly surprised to find you here. I would think it would bring back rather unpleasant memories.”
“What do you mean?” asked Miho. “Eriol, have you been up here before?”
Leiyun smiled thinly. “Surely you have heard that this place is not only significant because it was where Chang Ruichi was trapped and killed by the other Great Five, but it was also place where Clow Reed’s first love was killed.”
Tomoyo’s blood turned chill, as she recalled Mizuki Mika with her long, fine auburn hair blowing in the wind. A girl with a delicate smile that resembled Nakuru and had been reincarnated as Mizuki Kaho.
“How did Mizuki Mika die?” asked Miho.
Leiyun raised his eyebrow mockingly. “You really mean to tell me, your mentor did not tell you yet? He can tell you a firsthand account, no doubt. You already know Mika was the daughter of Mizuki Mayura-sama’s younger brother Keigo. The person who killed her was her adoptive brother, Mizuki Ryojiro.”
His revelation only earned blank stares, and Leiyun continued in bemusement, “Don’t you guys know anything? That man was also later known as Chang Ryojiro, the son of the Dark One. He grew to be Clow’s longtime nemesis.”
Tomoyo saw Kaho had put a protective arm around Eriol, supporting him, perhaps restraining him. It was a fragile side to him that Tomoyo had never seen before. Clow Reed was someone who had lost, hurt, grieved, and eventually made peace with his loss. And the woman beside his reincarnation had the soul of Mizuki Mika, his first love. A bond she could never come in between. She realized when she looked up that Leiyun’s eyes had been fixated on her the whole time though he had been speaking to Miho. But his piercing azure gaze was not mocking. If that man had an empathetic bone in his body, it could almost be called a look of sympathy.
“Chang Ruichi’s son?” Meilin’s jaw dropped. Of course Ruichi would have had an offspring in order to continue on the Chang bloodline. But it was difficult to think that the Dark One had time to meet a woman and even have a child before he had grown insane and met his untimely end. “How come we never heard anything about him before?”
Miho scrunched up her brows. “Wait, so Mizuki Ryojiro’s father was Chang Ruichi. Who was his mother then?”
“We should save the chitchat for later,” said Kai, nodding toward the huge ogre-like creature closing in from behind them, climbing up the forest at shocking speed.
Kaho said, “I will tackle that with Spinel Sun.” She climbed on the black beast’s back.
“Where did all these yokai come from?” asked Tomoyo watching Kaho soar up into sky on Spinel Sun’s back. She fleetingly wondering what Sakura’s brother would think about meeting a real-life ogre.
Eriol replied, “In feudal Japan, during the time of the Great Five, there were many different spirits roaming the land. Yokai, oni, mononoke, and dark forces wracked havoc around here. Five magicians joined hands to tame them, sealing the most evil of the forces and restoring order and harmony to the land. Of course, the Great Five not only fought against evil spirits—they battled against the sorcerers, magicians, priests, and conjurers who summoned and misused the evil spirits to their own ends. That is how the Great Five earned their reputation as the protectors of the land, the common people, and were respected and feared far and wide, because together, they were invincible.”
“They sealed a lot of the most evil and destructive spirits here up on Mount Kumatori,” Eron added. “The makeshift base for the Great Five, where the strongest barrier in Japan exists.”
“But seals can erode over time, when the one who cast it is gone, when someone deactivates it,” murmured Kai.
“It was Clow Reed who took one step further and forged contracts with dark forces, thus coming up with the Clow Card system,” said Leiyun. “The Clow Cards collectively were so powerful that in the wrong hands, they could have been misused and ultimately destructive. Which is why Clow was determined to protect the Cards and find a suitable successor. He didn’t want to get them in the hands of the power-hungry Li Clan, or even worse, the Dark Ones.”
“The Dark Ones had no need for such petty gimmicks. They already were powerful enough as was,” asserted Eron.
Miho remarked, “Through forbidden blood magic. Dark arts.”
“Eron’s different!” declared Erika defensively. “He has the power of light.”
“Just like Chang Risa-sama,” murmured Leiyun.
“Stop idling and do something about getting us out of this barrier,” snapped Kara, arms crossed. “It’s getting chilly, and I don’t want to be trapped in this creepy, haunted old shrine overnight.”
Leiyun watched Eriol scribble runes on the stand with the bottom tip of his staff. “Do you need a hand?”
“No thanks,” said Eriol tersely.
Miho pointed and exclaimed, “Kaho seems to have run into some trouble with the ogre!”
Kai looked up and saw the ogre swat at Kaho and Spinel Sun as if they were mere flies. The creature let out a deep growl, which rumbled across the mountains, and Meilin and Miho clutched each other anxiously. Ruby Moon swerved up in the air and waved her hand, shooting dozens of crystal shards down at the ogre. But it merely bounced off his thick skin and crumbled away like sand.
Eriol frowned. “I can’t take my hands off here.”
“I’ll go,” said Eron, turning to Cerberus.
“I’m not letting you on my back!” exclaimed Cerberus.
Kai frowned. “The ogre’s weakness is his one eye. If you can pierce it, that will distract him enough.” He glanced up at Kaho grabbing onto Spinel Sun with both hands. Even if she had her bow and arrows with her, there was no way she could manage to shoot the ogre from midair while staying on Spinel.
“Kaho’s not used to combat, nor has she ever had to shoot a moving target before from midair,” exclaimed Miho, from the edge of the stairwell of the shrine, looking down below. “She’s in danger!”
The ogre reached out and tore a tree out by its roots then threw it at Eriol’s Blue Beetle, flattening the car. Ruby Moon and Spinel Sun disbanded in opposite directions as the ogre sped forward to the base of the shrine.
“There goes our ride back home,” muttered Eron.
Strapping the quiver of arrows on his back, Kai rushed forward and placed a hand on Cerberus’ furry back. “You can fly me up to eye-level with the ogre, right?”
“Yeah,” said Cerberus. “Hop on.”
Only then did the others just realize that Kai had walked straight through the barrier that Eriol was working so diligently on breaking.
“Kai, you passed the barrier!” Meilin exclaimed. “You mean you could have gotten us out all this time?”
Kai replied with a shrug, palm in air, “Sorry, I don’t know how to break the barrier. But I can get through it. I’m a thief, it’s my nature.”
“How?” demanded Miho with a scowl. “Don’t just leave us stranded in here!”
“I’m sure Eriol will do a great job breaking it, in time,” said Kai cryptically. He leapt on Cerberus’ back with ease, and soared up into the night sky. He strung an arrow to the wooden bow, balancing on Cerberus’ back, no-hands, with natural grace as would be expected from the Thief of the Night. The yellow beast swerved around the ogre and Kai released the arrow, hitting the back of the monster’s grotesque head to distract the creature. The ogre’s huge yellow eye flitted back and forth to see where the attack had come from. And it finally spotted Kai. With its clawed green hands, it struck down at the pair, but Cerberus deftly dodged.
Kai stood atop Cerberus’ back, stringing another arrow to the bow. “Hey, Ugly One, look over here!” The ogre swerved at him again. But Kai was prepared and released the arrow. It flew in an arc into sky and pierced the center of the ogre’s eye. It let out a roar and bent over. “Now, Kaho! Exorcise it!” he called out.
Kaho nodded and muttered an incantation before letting fly ward papers. The ogre wailed and lashed out his hand, hurling Kai off the Cerberus’ back.
“Onii-chan!” shrieked Miho, who would have dashed forward and been frazzled by the barrier had Meilin not held her back.
Kai raised his right hand toward the blackened sky and from the dark clouds swooped down a majestic white bird below him, cushioning his fall.
“What was that?” whispered Miho, squinting, as Kai landed safely on his feet. Kai examined that the ogre was sealed back into its boulder form and gave up a thumb’s up to Kaho.
And Eriol announced abruptly, “The barrier around the shrine has broken.”
“You took forever! You’re losing your touch,” declared Miho.
Kara remarked, “Well, at least your brother got a chance to show off again.”
Meilin rushed up to Kai who walked back toward the shrine and asked, “Are you okay? I thought you were a goner when the ogre smacked you off of Cerberus.”
“You were saved by a bird!” exclaimed Miho. “It was a mythical phoenix, wasn’t it? I never thought I’d see the day when I’d get to see a phoenix! Please tell me that was a phoenix.”
Kai extended out his right arm, the tip of his forefinger lifted gracefully. And a glorious white phoenix pierced through the clouds and perched on his two fingers.
“What is that?” gasped Meilin at the beautiful bird, stark white plumage glistening in the dark like frost, eyes a startling silvery-blue.
And Kai replied, “Surely you recognize Perro-chan.”
And Meilin’s jaw dropped. “No way! That can’t be Perro-chan!”
“Well, more like Perro-chan is the Phoenix, Mizuki Mayura’s familiar,” said Kai. “And the parakeet form was his disguise. His real name is Garuda-sama.”
Meilin gently lifted up a finger, and the Phoenix gently pecked her, a gesture identical to Perro-chan. “Is that really you? Sorry for not recognizing you sooner.”
Shiefa, who had been on lookout, asked, “Guys, we’re surrounded by the blue fire. Are we trapped up here?”
“It’s not actually real fire,” said Kai. “It won’t burn the flora or fauna—but if it touches someone with magic, it will suck all the powers from you, so avoid getting near if you can.”
“Eriol and I will work on the barrier over Mount Kumatori,” said Kaho. “You guys make sure that the yokai do not escape this area. Kai, please track down what is causing the demon fire. It’s most likely a yokai with fire powers.”
Kai nodded. “The ogre is down, but it means the other smaller yokai will no longer hesitate to come out. I’ll go track down the cause of the fire. Garuda, please circle the mountains and let me know if there is any unusual movement.” And the Phoenix spread its splendid white wings and soared off to the sky.
Miho declared, “I’ll help track down the cause of the fire, since that is my specialty.” She raised her hand up in the sky and called out, “Key that hides the power of the Earth. Show your true self to me. I, Miho, command you. Release!” She twirled around a gloss crimson staff with gold accents with a fire encircled in a sun emblem.
“Wow, your staff looks fancier than before,” remarked Meilin.
“Yeah, I asked Eriol to upgrade my staff when he created his newest staff,” said Miho. “Isn’t it marvelous—Tomoyo-senpai designed it and even coordinated my release move—but it’s a bit hard for me to twirl around since I’m not a cheerleader like Sakura-senpai. I keep dropping it on my head.”
“Oh Sakura still does that too,” remarked Tomoyo with a chuckle.
“If you need help twirling, I can help you out!” exclaimed Kai, dangerously swirling around an arrow over his head in demonstration.
“No thanks!” replied Miho promptly.
Meilin patted Kai on the back as he looked crushed at the flat rejection and reassured, “Well, you are the best of the best in terms of sleight of hand.”
“I learned from the best of the best,” said Kai offhandedly.
“Leon did always say you were a natural,” remarked Kara.
He gazed at her. “I was talking about you, actually.” Kara looked taken aback for a moment, which prompted him to say, “Did you forget you were the first person to teach me magic tricks?”
Meilin bit her lower lip. So Kara was the person who first taught Kai magic. She was so many of his firsts, an indelible presence that had contributed to the Mizuki Kai of today.
Kara remarked, “You were always better at sleight of hand than me.”
“True, I’m a master of deception,” replied Kai boastfully. “Leon always told me that it was a good thing I wasn’t in government because I would become a living weapon.”
“That was not a compliment,” said Kara, arms crossed.
“What are you talking about, that’s the greatest compliment he’s ever paid me,” said Kai. “He was always rebuking me, when he made me do all the dirty work.”
“And Leon would have been a better thief if he weren’t always womanizing, gambling, and getting drunk,” said Kara shortly. “I’m sure all the booze and smoking had a toll on his overall endurance and health. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten shot then.”
Kai remarked, “You know, he really did try his best to stop smoking when you were around, and he was so irritable all the time from withdrawal symptoms. Too bad abstinence didn’t last after you left.”
“Too bad you seemed to have picked up all this bad habits while you were with him.” Kara trailed off as she realized his younger sister was eavesdropping.
Miho realized she had been caught gawking at the pretty blonde older girl. She too had forgotten the unlikely bond between her brother and Kamura Karin, the quiet, standoffish junior high student that Tanaka Mikai had been infatuated with years ago. Mikai had been devastated when Karin disappeared one day without a word, though he never spoke of it at home, and Miho had hated the girl who had broken her brother’s heart, back when they were going through the most difficult period their lives. Back then, she had not realized how much her brother had been shielding her after their father’s presumed death. He tried to keep her from realizing how sick their mother was, that they were completely bankrupt. Back then, she didn’t realize why he was always out so late, because he had been running odd jobs. His face had gotten so gaunt because they didn’t have money for food, nor electricity bills or heat, but he had never let her go hungry. And he had been too proud to reach out to other family members, so nobody had known how dire the Tanaka family’s financial situation had been in those last several months. Miho never felt lonely, even then, because he had been her support. Yet, who had been there for her brother? She had never thought too deeply about what had driven him to make the choices he did then, but somehow, coming up here to the Mizuki Shrine, it was suddenly real, the deliberate decision he made as a twelve-year-old boy to leave behind everything, his family, friends, school, first love, the life he had known, and the sacrifices he had made to come here and train to become a successor to Mizuki Mayura, for a chance to save their mother.
Abruptly, as if sensing her melancholy, Kai clapped his younger sister on the back and declared, “Just train under me for one week, Miho, and you will put the cheerleading squad to shame. Now, the trick is how you position your fingers so that the baton rests at the tip, and you are twirling over that middle finger. Are you listening, Miho?”
“It’s easier said then done!” declared Miho, dropping her staff on Kai’s toe.
“He’d be a half-decent boyfriend if he could ever get over that sister complex of his,” Kara told Meilin. “It’s just getting worse with age.”
Meilin glanced at the older girl, startled by that unusually gentle look in her violet eyes framed by long up-curled golden lashes. That tender glance and wistful smile. Why hadn’t she realized it? Kara was clearly still in love with Kai.
With natural grace, Kai leapt down the stairs, following along the trail of bluish fire without getting too near. Miho, Meilin, and Kara followed after him.
“What kind of yokai is it?” asked Miho excitedly. “Isn’t this what they call foxfire?”
“It’s probably a kitsune,” remarked Kai, bending down and fingering the soil. “A fox spirit can be very sly and conniving, so it is important to sneak up on it and catch it unaware.”
Shiefa exclaimed, “Oh, I want to see a kitsune! Do you think it really will have nine tails?”
Kai groaned silently. “Shiefa-nee-sama, couldn’t you stay with Leiyun-san and the others up at the shrine? It’s not safe to wander about the forest in nighttime, and Syaoran would kill me if anything compromises your safety.”
“I know how to take care of myself,” said Shiefa haughtily. “Who do you think was Syaoran’s first martial arts instructor in the first place?”
“Syaoran was your favorite punching bag,” remarked Fuutie, popping up behind her sister.
“Fuutie-nee-sama, you as well?” Kai sighed. “All of you please just stay out of the way because yokai can get scared and flee if you do not approach with caution—are you listening to me?”
“It really is a kitsune!” exclaimed Shiefa, pointing at bushy white tails glimpsed between the bushes and ran off toward the fox spirit.
“Don’t go off on your own!” exclaimed Kai, running after her.
Miho tried her best to keep up with her brother. “I’m able to seal lower-level yokai, but if it’s powerful, I have to fetch Kaho.”
Kai said, “Kaho can’t be disturbed because she’s in the middle of working on a complex seal over the mountain. Between you and me, I’m sure we will be able to seal a mere kitsune.”
“Me and you?” asked Miho, gray eyes suddenly lighting up, cheeks flushed.
Meilin chuckled. Who could forget that Miho probably had a bigger brother complex than even Sakura?
Halting abruptly, Kai frowned. “Wait, this part of the mountains—”
Shiefa exclaimed, “Stop dawdling, the kitsune went that way,” pointing left.
Catching her breath, Meilin asked, “Where is Fuutie?”
And Kai swore under his breath in French, “Merde,” and asked, “When did we last see her?”
Kara replied, “When we all ran off after Shiefa.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” asked Kai in exasperation.
“I’m not her guardian—she’s a grown woman,” said Kara coldly.
“She’s under the influence of a dark force and clearly not at a capacity to make sound judgments,” said Kai with a frown. “We’re near the edge of the summit, it’s dangerous in the dark to even those who are familiar with the terrain.”
“She’s not the type to be so irresponsible,” said Shiefa. “It’s just like last time, when she thought she saw the White Tiger and she was lured toward it, like she was possessed.”
Tomoyo remarked, “I remember Sakura telling me about the time she sealed the Mirror. The Mirror, disguised as Sakura, tried to lure her brother off the edge of a small cliff in the forests behind King Penguin Park, but luckily, he didn’t fall too far. The odd thing is, he followed her knowing she was not really Sakura.”
“Tomoyo-chan, what are you doing here?” asked Meilin, convinced her friend must have been a ninja in a former lifetime.
“I followed you guys,” said Tomoyo. “Filming for Sakura’s reference later.”
“Why did Touya-san knowingly follow the Mirror when he knew it was not Sakura?” asked Miho.
“Because he wanted to help the Mirror. He initially thought she was a ghost who might have had some business left in this world,” said Tomoyo. “Turned out she was a Clow Card.”
“Anybody who falls from this height will fall to sure death,” warned Kai, scanning the darkness for signs of Fuutie. The group stared up at the night sky and saw the Phoenix flying around in circles before it swooped westward. They ran toward the direction that the bird was flying in.
Finally, they spotted Fuutie staggering toward the edge of the mountain, as if unaware that she was nearing it edge. Her feet stumbled over the ledge, concealed by shrubs, and Miho rushed ahead, grabbing Fuutie’s wrist and dragging her back up. In the process, however, Miho was lurched off the edge.
“Miho!” exclaimed Meilin in horror.
Kai commanded, “Fly, Garuda!”
Seconds before Miho toppled straight off the cliff, the bird swooped down and steadied the girl. Miho grabbed onto the phoenix’s soft white feathers and clung on, catching, her breath, and the bird gently nudged her to her brother’s side again. Balance regained, Miho stared up at her older brother who momentarily looked furious. She whispered, “Onii-chan, you saved me.”
Meilin saw an odd expression flit across Kai’s face, his lips set in a stern line. And Meilin was sure he was about to lose his temper at his younger sister and tell her to go back to the shrine where it was safe. Instead, he only said curtly, “Of course.”
With a sheepish grin, Miho declared, “I’m such a klutz since I take after Mother. Thank you Garuda-sama!” And she hopped off carefree, as if oblivious to the fact that she had almost fallen to death.
“That’s it? You’re not going to tell her to stay out of the way? At least tell her to be careful?” asked Meilin incredulously. “She nearly fell off the cliff where Chang Risa-sama died.”
“I was here, so it’s fine,” replied Kai.
She would almost have been convinced, if she hasn’t noticed under the moonlight that his brows were glistening with cold sweat. “Well, you’re more mature than Syaoran and Sakura’s brother put together.”
“I’ve abandoned her before, and she survived on her own, through her own strength,” said Kai. “I wouldn’t have left her if I didn’t know that she was tough.”
And Meilin stared up at the former thief who was only a year older than her but seemed much more aged. Kai was someone who had been forced to grow up too quickly and had a more cynical view of the world than anyone she knew. How hard he tried to protect Miho from that world though, without clipping his little sister’s wings. That aspect of him she grudgingly respected.
“Look,” said Tomoyo, pointing toward a silvery fox at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the summit. Syaoran’s sisters had already run down to the other side of the ledge.
“Watch out!” exclaimed Meilin, as the fiery fox demon, fangs bared, pounced at Fuutie. Miho shut her eyes in horror. But out jumped an imposing white beast that swatted away at the smaller fox demon with his paw.
“The White Tiger,” murmured Tomoyo in awe as the graceful creature stretched out to its full height.
The kitsune breathed out a jet of blue fire at Fuutie, but the White Tiger swooped up Fuutie—or maybe Fuutie jumped on his back first—and it leaped forward in one stride. The tiger’s roar rumbled throughout the mountains, and the fur on the fox bristled and the yokai scampered off into the forest.
Gently, the White Tiger deposited the Fuutie safely on the ground, far from the edge of the cliff. The onlookers saw the beautiful sight of a woman wrapping her arms around the magnificent white creature that gleamed under the moonlight. Fuutie, burying her face in the beast’s fur, whispered, “It’s you isn’t it Zino? You really came for me. I knew you would. Thank you.”
“The White Tiger rescued Fuutie,” whispered Miho. “Could that really be Wu Zino?”
Shiefa frowned. “It can’t be. He’s dead.”
The White Tiger gazed up at Fuutie with golden eyes. It gently slipped away from her arms. “Wait, don’t go!” she called out. But the creature swerved around and leaped off the edge of the cliff, disappearing into the darkness.
Fuutie sat at the edge of the cliff, staring down at the rapids below. There was no splash below, no sign of the White Tiger either.
“What is she doing?” exclaimed Shiefa. “We’ve got to stop her!”
“She’s not trying to jump,” murmured Leiyun, who had appeared behind them. And they watched Fuutie, hands clutching the grass growing the edge of the cliff, weeping silently.
It was Leiyun who slowly walked up to his cousin and put a hand on her shoulder. “The seal has been restored over the mountain. We should leave now.”
“It was him. It really was the White Tiger,” whispered Fuutie. “I know it was him. He came to save me again.”
Leiyun said quietly, “This is the sacred Mount Kumatori, the dawn of the Great Five and the end. Anything is possible here.”
Tomoyo too walked to the edge of the cliff, supposedly the very spot which Chang Risa fell to her death. Sakura had almost fallen off here once, as well. The wind blew her hair across her face, and she stared down over the edge, surprised at how high up they were. In nightfall, she couldn’t see the bottom of the summit, but could only hear the roaring of the rapids far below. A fall from here would be to sure death. It was a terrifying end, the kind of death where you wouldn’t die immediately. A strong hand gripped her shoulder.
“Don’t stand so close to the edge like that Tomoyo,” Leiyun murmured into her ear, releasing her immediately. “Curiosity did kill the cat. What are you so curious of now?”
“What kind of thoughts do you have in the seconds before you die,” said Tomoyo. “What if you regret it the moment you are falling, but it’s too late to turn back?”
“Were you always so morbid, or is that the influence of your most estimable mentor?” asked Leiyun. “Thanatos, the death drive, as they call it. That is countered by Eros, the life instinct. Regret is when the primitive life instinct kicks in. If there is a choice between instantaneous death, where you are not prepared in any sense, or a slow, drawn out one where you have plenty of time to acclimate to the idea of mortality, then I would say, I would prefer the former. Tried the latter and it’s taxing.”
Tomoyo tucked a strand of hair behind her ear to keep it from whipping into her face. “I think I would rather choose the latter.”
“You would.” Leiyun remarked. “You asked what if you felt regret in your last moments. That shows your naïveté, dear Tomoyo. I don’t think someone who would have regrets second before death would choose such a gruesome end. Relief. Relief is what one would feel when driven to the point of ending his or her own life.”
Tomoyo frowned. “Of course I don’t know what her circumstances were, but I can’t believe she wanted to die. Surely she would have wanted to live if it weren’t for that dark force which filled her with utter despair.”
He too was silent as he gazed over the cliff at the pitch black abyss. “Maybe you are right. But who knows what Chang Risa’s final thoughts were save for herself. For I don’t think even her descendants do truly know her wish. If we did, this cycle of destruction would have long since ended.”
Listening on, Fuutie remarked, “Chang Risa must have felt a burning sense of wrath, to the point she wanted to seek vengeance. That’s the only reason she would come back as the Dark One.”
“But from what I have heard about Risa-sama, she doesn’t seem like the vengeful type. I get the sense she really did love Hayashi-sama,” said Tomoyo. “Would you want to harm the person you loved most?”
“If that’s the only way to be remembered by, yes,” said Fuutie. “For the worst thing is indifference, to be forgotten by your most loved one.”
“It seems like the blue fire has subsided,” called out Kara. “Let’s get back to the shrine.”
The group returned to the Mizuki Shrine somberly, Kai leading the way, and the others trailing behind, Leiyun at the end of the procession, right behind Fuutie.
Eriol, leaning against his staff, looked beat, while Mizuki Kaho was seated on the steps, dabbing her forehead with a violet silk handkerchief.
“Was it successful?” asked Miho.
Eriol nodded. “Yes, a makeshift barrier was set over the mountain.”
“Then are we safe now?” asked Meilin. “What about the yokai?”
“It’s impossible to seal all the yokai that have been put to sleep by the Great Five over the course of a decade,” said Eriol. “And not all of the yokai are evil or mean to do any harm.”
“Then why were they sealed in the first place?” demanded Meilin.
“Power-seeking syndicates, those wishing to taken down the Great Five, summoned the yokai, sometimes corrupting them, mutating them, to use them to their own means,” replied Eriol. “They were fed with dark energy and used to attack them Great Five who in turn sealed them to keep them from harm. But such dark energy would have dissipated after a century or so.”
“With the barrier around Mount Kumatori, the mountain yokai will not be able to leave this area—and many of them are native here, so they wouldn’t want to in the first place,” said Kaho. “Most of them are creatures of nature, meaning no harm.”
“Will you be able to singlehandedly sustain such a large barrier for who knows how long?” asked Miho. Even Eriol had his limits.
“Garuda will also remain here,” said Kai glancing at Leiyun. “He will guard the mountain—he is a deity, so even the yokai are below him in terms of hierarchy.”
“You can’t leave Perro-chan behind here!” exclaimed Meilin.
Kai smiled slightly. “You forget. This was Garuda’s original home. He said he wants to remain here for the time being. I can’t ask him to do anything he doesn’t want to, remember.”
And the Phoenix circled around above them in recognition, before flying further up the mountain.
“Thank you, Garuda-sama,” called out Miho, waving her hand, and she glanced back at her brother, who was no longer smiling but frowning as he stared up at the ominous red-lit black sky.
Shiefa had seen more combat than her other three sisters—she was considered one of the strongest female warriors of the clan. But she had never seen the likes of today before. “How powerful exactly is Mizuki Kai, do you think?” she asked her older cousin quietly.
“It’s not just Mizuki Kai,” said Leiyun. “Do you realize, this is the first time since the era of the Great Five that the decedents are as strong as, if not stronger than the original Five Force Magicians?”
“Is that so?” asked Fuutie. “Well, our Syaoran is pretty exceptional, we already accept that in the Clan. And there’s Kinomoto Sakura, who is Clow Reed’s chosen successor as Card Mistress. Kara Reed seems to be no ordinary girl, if rumors are true that it was she who rescued you from the Cavern of Reservoirs. Mizuki Kai appears to be full of surprises, as well. And Chang Eron, if he indeed broke free from the Dark One’s control on his own, is quite a remarkable figure as well.”
“I think the figures surrounding them are even more exceptional,” remarked Shiefa. “With Clow Reed’s reincarnation, the Mizuki priestess, Sakura’s older brother, and even that videotaping stalker girl.” She glanced over her shoulder. “And then, there’s that mess.”
From the courtyard, Erika poked Jinyu on the chest with a finger and said, “We’ve got to redo the scene of Cinderella and the Prince’s first meeting in the forest. Cinderon, no need to look so smug—you were no better.”
And Leiyun told Tomoyo, “Aren’t you proud of your protégées? They are so dedicated to the play, even rehearsing up here in this sacred location of the Great Five.”
Tomoyo glanced at Leiyun, standing by a cherry blossom tree which had now sprouted green leaves. He hadn’t lifted a finger to set up the barrier or catch the yokai. What he had said by the cliff side seemed to hold some significance, yet she couldn’t piece it together.
“We had nothing better to do to pass time,” stated Erika. She turned to Eriol. “Are you sure you’re Clow Reed’s reincarnation? How many hours did it take you to set up that new seal?”
“Well, maybe if you lent a hand, it would’ve taken less time,” snapped Cerberus.
“I would have, if Spinel Annoying Sun didn’t declare that any barrier set up by us would be suspicious and told us to keep out of the way,” retorted Erika, who had instead spent the past hour nagging at her twin brother and the magic-less Black Dragon over their lines for the school play. “Well, can we leave now? It’s cold and nasty up here. I feel like I’m being watched.”
With a sigh, Eron said, slipping his tattered script into his jacket pocket, “We’re the trespassers, not them.”
Tomoyo handed Eriol a daisy-embroidered handkerchief, knowing his had been taken by Mizuki-sensei. He took it and dabbed the sweat on his brows. “Thank you.”
“It must have been pretty draining setting up the seal around Mount Kumatori since it’s such a big area,” said Tomoyo.
“Actually, that part was pretty easy,” said Eriol. “I’m used to setting up such barriers to contain magic, and this time around, I didn’t have to be careful about making sure not to get people involved or put a whole town to sleep—someone already made sure no one else would be up here. It was more taxing to break the initial barrier set around the Mizuki Shrine, since I’m usually the one who is casting the barrier.”
“Well, the Great Five must have done a good job to protect the sacred Mizuki Shrine,” said Tomoyo.
“The barrier around the shrine did not activate just on its own,” murmured Eriol. “Someone had to have activated it.”
“Who?” asked Tomoyo.
“There was only one person who was unaffected by the barrier. The same person who is most familiar with the shrine and the mountain,” replied Eriol.
Tomoyo gazed up at Eriol, his eyes gleaming in the dark. “Why would he activate such a barrier?”
“It could have been the most primitive instinct,” he replied. “The seal on Mount Kumatori broke, and he had to act fast to protect his comrades.”
Kai was someone who despite his looks was staunch in protecting those closest to him, and he had been with his younger sister, girlfriend, and former girlfriend. The former thief also was rather protective of Erika as well, Tomoyo had noticed.
“But also,” continued Eriol, “it could have been the reverse, and he figured that the seal was broken by someone, or someones, from within the group. So he decided to trap that person within the barrier to keep them from accessing the raw power of the evil spirits set loose.”
“What does Kai know that we don’t know?” asked Tomoyo.
“He knows what Mizuki Mayura wanted,” said Eriol. “And I am sure he is determined to carry out her final wish.”
Kai had always been a mysterious figure, from the moment he had paraded onto the scene by stealing the star sapphire ring and kidnapping Meilin. He was the person Tomoyo had the most difficulty deciphering out of the Alliance of the Stars. It came to her as no surprise that Kai had his own agenda, because every move he made had been calculated up till now. For Eriol to point this out was fascinating. Because Tomoyo was pretty sure Clow Reed’s reincarnation also had his own intentions, unknown to anyone else except perhaps Mizuki Kaho or maybe not even her. The current alliance was perhaps even more divided than the Great Five had ever been. But Tomoyo had faith that if it was Sakura, she would be able to unite them all and be the pillar to hold them all together.
Nakuru remarked suddenly, “By the way, how are we getting home? Our Beetle got crushed by the ogre.”
Tomoyo said, “Don’t worry, Kai texted my bodyguards—I’ll give you a lift.”
“And Wei’s waiting for us,” declared Shiefa.
Meilin watched Kai take a last glance back at the shrine before leaving. Was he thinking of his twelve-year-old self, sitting out on the wooden floor alone, staring up at the stars in the summer sky, the ghost of Mizuki Mayura by his side? That twelve-year-old boy, had he been vulnerable, desolate or vengeful? Had there been traces of the sweet brother and charming school prince, or had he turned savage? It had been before he had learned to become the cunning Thief of the Night who hid his heart behind a black cloak and suave words. What kind of boy had he been back then? Only Kara Reed knew that side of him.
The group trudged down the dark mountain in silence, too weary to even make conversation.
“Do we know which way we need to go to get down to the main road?” asked Mizuki Kaho after a while.
Eron sighed irritably. “Isn’t this the Mizuki Shrine—you must come here the most often?”
“Not when it’s so dark outside,” replied Kaho, grabbing onto Eriol’s arm as she nearly stumbled over a rock.
Eriol chuckled. “You still have no sense of direction, Kaho.”
Only Eriol would find that endearing, Miho thought sourly, as they stumbled down the summit. They were about half down when they heard a rustling in the bushes.
During that horrible week that they thought Sakura was dead, and again today, Miho had direly realized the lack of leadership in the Alliance in her absence. Miho had always depended on Eriol to take charge in a situation without Sakura and Syaoran, but she was growing to realize, he would not. Or perhaps, he was not capable of being a surrogate leader for them. After all, Clow Reed had never worked well with others. He had always worked solo, and never had been good at explaining his intentions, not even to his most trusted companions, Cerberus and Yue. So, maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise that Eriol would not take charge.
It came as a shock to them all that Kai, the most unlikely leader of the group, emerged as the one who would take charge in such a circumstance. And yet, Miho knew best she should not have been surprised. Her brother had served as student council president all through elementary school. His nickname had been Prince, not just for his looks, but because he knew how to draw out what he wanted from people. Ever since his return, she had subconsciously treated Mizuki Kai, the Thief of the Night, and Tanaka Mikai, her brother from her childhood, as two separate entities. Maybe because she just couldn’t accept that her brother had become what he had become. No, that wasn’t it. Because she had accepted that like herself, her brother had changed.
Yet, she had ignored the fact that people could change, grow, but that did not destroy the essence of who they originally were. On Mount Kumatori tonight, for the first time, she felt she had seen glimpses of Tanaka Mikai, the brother from her childhood. Not like when he had been play-acting as Mikai for their parents.
“Who’s there?” demanded Meilin, shining her flashlight toward the noise.
“It’s us,” replied Erika glumly, hair hanging limply around her face and dirt smudged across a cheek. “What, you thought they’re wild bears or something here on the mountains?”
Miho exclaimed, “Erika-senpai, didn’t you guys leave way ahead of us?”
Erika glared at Leiyun and said, “This guy doesn’t know the way back down, apparently.”
Leiyun shrugged. “If we head down, eventually we will find our way back, no?”
“Oh no, we’re lost in the haunted mountains,” groaned Shiefa. “Isn’t there a story like that? A man wanders into the woods and sees blue fairy light and when he finally finds his way back home, he’d been gone for a century and everyone’s all dead?”
Horrified, they all turned to Kai, who had been lagging behind, whistling, checking his smartphone along the way.
“Where did you disappear off to?” demanded Miho.
“Caught a sly inugami trailing after us,” replied Kai.
“Who cares about dog demons! You know your way around the mountains, don’t you? You lived up here for half a year!” exclaimed Erika. “It’s pitch black, my hair is flat, and I have blisters on my feet.”
“Whose fault is it that we are all up here in the first place?” snapped Eron.
“Who told you to come, you deadweight?” retorted Erika.
Shiefa declared, “This was not fun at all! We should have just stayed at the dinner banquet, Fuutie. Touya and Yukito never showed up, and what time is it? Can it be any darker?”
Kai murmured, “Late enough the trains would have stopped running by now.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket.
Miho asked. “Aren’t you Lis taught scavenging, trekking, and basic survival 101 as a part of training?”
“Yeah, Syaoran was,” stated Shiefa. “We’re not Shaolin monks or something—most of us don’t go through such hardcore training!”
“I’m starving and sleepy!” declared Miho morosely.
“I’ll give you a piggyback ride!” declared Kai.
“Gross,” said Miho.
Unabashed, Kai stated, “Well, come now, my car is parked nearby.” He suddenly walked briskly, leaving the main trial and cutting through the wood.
“Why are we deviating from the main path—we’re going to get even more lost!” exclaimed Erika. “Hey wait, don’t leave me!”
The others trailed after Kai dubiously as he beelined through the woods, weaving in and out of bushes and trees down a steep trail, until they suddenly emerged back at the main road and saw a gleaming black Lamborghini parked next to a large armored luxury minivan and a Mercedes-Benz.
They were greeted by an interesting sight of Wei and Tomoyo’s bodyguards seated on the floor of the minivan playing a game of Mahjong.
“Unfair!” said a woman in a black pantsuit and sunglasses as Wei swept in all the flowery cards. “How did you win again?”
“Wei!” exclaimed Meilin. “When did he get so chummy with your bodyguards, Tomoyo?”
“Oh, they waited around together a lot since back in elementary school days, and they got pretty close, I heard,” Tomoyo replied.
“Well, I’m glad someone had fun tonight,” muttered Kero-chan under his breath from Tomoyo’s arms as Wei straightened his bowtie, embarrassed to be caught in such disarray.
******
Meilin had dozed off in the car ride home, and they made it back to the apartment from Mount Kumatori in record time—she had an inkling Kai must have been speeding along the highway. Pressing her ears against the front door of her apartment, Meilin whispered to Kai, “Do you think they’re home? I don’t hear anything.”
“I’m sure they’re already asleep,” said Kai with a yawn. “It’s way past midnight. Or Sakura might have already returned home. She was supposed to just stay until Syaoran’s board meeting, after all.”
“I guess,” Meilin said sighing. She opened the front door, and it was completely dark inside. “Strange, Syaoran likes to keep a lamp on these days.” With a frown, she turned on the living room light switch and walked toward Syaoran’s bedroom. The door was halfway open, so she peeked in. “He’s not here!” And Meilin then ran over to her own bedroom, switching on all the lights, and saw Sakura’s duffel bag still there. “Sakura’s stuff is still here too!”
Kai whistled lowly. “The two never did come back from Tokyo, did they? I wonder what the two of them are up to at this unearthly hour of the night.”
Then, Meilin spotted her pajamas on top of the duvet cover of her bed and exclaimed, “Sakura didn’t sleep on my bed all weekend long! I was in a rush Friday morning and left that there, and it’s in the exact same spot I left it.”
“Then where did she sleep all weekend?” asked Kai. His eyes locked with Meilin’s and then he laughed. “What are we thinking? It’s Sakura and Syaoran we’re talking about. They probably stayed up all night finishing labeling the rest of the stinking accounting files.”
But Meilin ran to the living room, which was spotlessly clean, with stacks of documents still stacked up in a jumble to the side. “Look, they made almost no progress in sorting the files all weekend long.”
“Good,” said Kai. “They acted like typical teenagers and slacked off. Not the end of the world, you know.”
“But the question is, where are they right now?” asked Meilin.
“They probably missed the last train and are still stuck in Tokyo,” replied Kai with a careless shrug. “I bet Syaoran missed it on purpose.”
“He’s not you,” said Meilin. “He’d catch a cab or call Wei.”
Kai said, “I’m sure Sakura balked at the cab fare or the thought of waking up Wei at this hour—though he was actually on standby for Leiyun. And she was probably said with those big innocent green eyes, ‘Syao-pyon, I don’t mind staying out with you. I’m a big girl now. Should we go to that hotel— ’” He ducked as Meilin chucked a clear file at him.
“Sakura wouldn’t say something like that, and Syaoran’s too much of a gentleman, anyway!” declared Meilin. “They’re probably stuffing their faces in Harajuku or something.”
******
Monday…
Daidouji Tomoyo stood palms flat against the classroom window Monday morning at school as she watched the driveway for any signs of her missing Sakura.
“Don’t stand with your nose pressed against the window with your long hair—you look like the school ghost from outside,” remarked Mizuki Kai, collapsing over his school desk the next morning. “Why did you make me come to school, Mei-chan? All I want to do is crawl back into bed.” He pawed through Meilin’s book bag. “Don’t you have anything to eat? Chocolate?”
“You don’t even like sweets,” remarked a cranky Meilin, tossing Kai a box of Pocky. He eagerly tore into the package of chocolate-covered biscuit sticks.
Tomoyo remarked, “We got down from Mount Kumatori pretty late, but you don’t look like you got much sleep last night, Meilin-chan.”
Meilin yawned, wondering how Tomoyo always managed to look so fresh and well-rested. “I didn’t sleep a wink. This is what a mother feels like when her child stays out all night without getting in touch.”
And Tomoyo clasped her hands together and squealed, “Syaoran didn’t come home last night?”
“No,” whispered Meilin. “He was out all night with Sakura—her stuff’s still at our apartment.”
Tomoyo turned to her desk mate Eriol excitedly. “Did you hear that? They were out all night, together.”
With a lazy smile, Eriol replied, “We kept everybody trapped atop Mount Kumatori all evening long. Those two better have spent some time together, without any disturbances.”
Meilin’s jaw dropped. “Is that why you took so darned long breaking the barrier? And Mizuki-sensei intentionally got lost coming back down?”
Kai chuckled. “No, she just really has no sense of direction.”
“But you do—” Meilin trailed off as the former thief shrugged and grinned smugly.
Yanagisawa Naoko looked around the classroom and remarked, “Sakura-chan sure is late.”
“Li-kun too,” said Yamazaki Takashi.
“Maybe they’re together again,” said Mihara Chiharu with a sly smile.
“Again?” asked Meilin.
Chiharu nodded. “Yes, we saw them at the new café in town, during the midday shower on Saturday.”
And Meilin and Tomoyo grasped each others hands together gleefully.
First period passed by, and there was no sign of Sakura and Syaoran.
Tomoyo’s mobile phone buzzed, and she whispered to her friends, “I just got a text message from Sakura. She needs a spare uniform.”
Kai tittered. “See, I told you they were out all night. How scandalous.”
“I wonder if Syaoran needs a uniform too,” remarked Tomoyo, thinking how she had delinquent student style and elite student council style, both which would suit Syaoran well.
“He keeps a spare uniform in his locker since he is such a neat freak,” said Meilin, spoiling Tomoyo’s daydream. “So where are they right now?”
“They’re in the boys’ locker room,” replied Tomoyo.
******
It took the entire study hall in the library for Meilin, Tomoyo, Miho, and Kai to narrate in full what had happened the previous night on Mount Kumatori to Sakura, because they kept interrupting each other.
Seated at their isolated corner table in the library, Tomoyo said, “It was quite a dramatic scene, the White Tiger leaping out and saving Syaoran’s sister from the nine-tailed kitsune.”
“Did I mention onii-chan slayed an ogre by striking his eye with an arrow midair?” interrupted Miho, who was skipping gym, her least favorite class.
“And then, it turned out that Perro-chan was actually the legendary Phoenix Garuda-sama, Mizuki Mayura-sama’s familiar!” exclaimed Meilin. “Can you believe it?”
“Hoe, I can’t tell if you guys are just pulling my legs or serious,” said Sakura, perplexed. “Why didn’t anyone contact me?”
“We had things under control,” said Meilin with a shrug. “I mean, both Eriol and Leiyun were there.”
“Besides, nobody had reception up there,” declared Tomoyo.
“But Meilin-senpai got in touch with Syaoran-senpai, right?” said Miho.
Kai glared at his younger sister over the bridge of his sunglasses. He admitted, “Only my phone had reception, and Meilin texted Syaoran. Didn’t he say anything to you?”
“No,” said Sakura slowly.
“Look,” said Meilin, holding up Kai’s phone to show the message window with Syaoran, and Sakura peered over the exchange of texts.
Meilin: Syaoran, we’re up on Mt. Kumatori at the Mizuki Shrine. Seems like there’s some strange yokai up here. Eriol said it doesn’t seem like a dark force though.
Syaoran: Who’s with you?
Meilin: Most of the Alliance… Eriol, Kai, Miho, Tomoyo. And Leiyun and his crew. Your sisters too.
Syaoran: Do you guys have things under control?
Meilin: Both Eriol and Leiyun are here, I think we’ll be fine.:)
Syaoran: OK, will leave things to you guys. Call me if something comes up.
Sakura gaped at the message for two reasons. Looking at the time stamp, it had been around the time they had finished dinner. And yet, he had suggested they go watch a movie and didn’t tell her about the altercation on Mount Kumatori. Second, she hadn’t realized Syaoran actually responded to text messages.
“Oh, he really didn’t mention it?” asked Tomoyo. “That is rare, Syaoran prioritizing fun over duty.”
“Or perhaps he was just cleverly avoiding his pesky sisters,” remarked Kai, glancing over at Syaoran seated in his usual corner, who was the only person actually doing work during study hall, furiously solving math problems not just for tomorrow’s class but the entire week.
“I really wasn’t going to tell him,” said Meilin. “But I was afraid he’s get mad if I didn’t let him know, and he was going to find out anyway since his sisters were there.”
Miho said, “Besides, Eriol and the others contained the situation eventually, though they were so painstakingly slow about it. Almost as if they were deliberately taking a long time.” And then it dawned upon her, and she glared at Eriol, who had just been nodding along to their narration of last night’s events.
Sakura had no doubt it was Leiyun behind the released seal on Mount Kumatori. What was he up to now? She was sure Kai held the same suspicion, for he hated anything bothersome, and the only time he would take action was out of sheer necessity.
Kai, a Pocky stick in his mouth, leaned over and whispered in her ear rather loudly, “So, Sakura-chan, where did you spend the night?”
“Up on Tokyo Tower,” said Sakura. “We were just waiting for the trains to operate again.”
“I meant the other two nights,” said Kai with a sly grin.
This made Sakura blush beet red, and Meilin kicked his shin under the table. “Don’t tease Sakura-chan!”
“Fine, I’ll go harass Syaoran for the details,” said Kai, tossing an empty Pocky package into the trash can.
Meilin asked, “Miho, don’t you have class?”
“Who cares about PE after all the excitement from last night?” replied Miho. “I got Nakuru to forge a doctor’s note for me.”
“If you ever forget whose sister she is,” mumbled Meilin, which made Sakura chuckle.
******
Li Leiyun entered the music room and heaved a deep sigh as the school bell rang, sinking into one of the chairs, not realizing someone else was already in the room.
Clearing her throat, Tomoyo stood up from the piano bench, where she had been practicing a song for choir, to make known her presence. “Are you hiding from someone, Li-sensei?”
And she heard footsteps and Li Shiefa burst into the music room. “Oh it’s you, Tomoyo. Did you see my cousin Leiyun?”
Tomoyo glanced over at Leiyun, who had ducked behind the grand piano and placed a finger over his lips, shaking his head furiously. “No, I haven’t seen Li-sensei,” she told Syaoran’s second oldest sister.
Shiefa frowned. “I swear I thought I saw him head in this direction. Well, if you see him, tell him to answer my phone calls.”
And Tomoyo shut the door before turning back to Leiyun, who sighed in relief, drooping over the shut grand piano. A white kitten slinked out from behind the benches and hopped on the piano lid, scattering music sheets. “Did you get back home safely last night?”
“No. Fuutie and Shiefa insisted on visiting Tsukiji Fish Market for fresh sashimi at dawn since we were already up,” replied Leiyun. “I never want to look at raw fish again.”
“You do look rather haggard, Li-sensei,” remarked Tomoyo trying to suppress a smile, for Leiyun did seem a bit green in the face. That was also the expression Syaoran had on all week long while hosting Fuutie at his apartment.
“It’s a well-known fact Syaoran’s sisters are very high maintenance,” replied Leiyun with a long sigh, burying his head in Byakko-chan’s fur. “I don’t know where they get their stamina from. And the scary thing is, Fuutie and Shiefa are still more easy-going than the younger two.”
“It must be fun to have so many relatives,” remarked Tomoyo.
Leiyun snorted at this. “I’d gladly trade off a cousin or two. More like a dozen. Anyway, you have Sakura and Touya.”
“Yes, I was so happy to find out that I had two cousins,” said Tomoyo. “I’ve always wanted siblings.” She wondered suddenly if Leiyun had any siblings—she knew very little about him. Tomoyo recalled Kai’s questions about Leiyun’s motives. If he did not have any siblings, he would inherit everything from his father and possibly his mother as well. No, Leiyun wouldn’t care about material goods. And he didn’t care for power, because he did not want to be the Great Elder nor the Chosen One. Yet, he didn’t have a strong sense of vengeance against the Dark Ones because he was collaborating with Erika to cause mischief in Tomoeda. Or even if they were not working together, he still was supporting Erika somehow because it was in his benefit to keep her close. Since he had arrived in Tomoeda, he had taken very little action and merely observed, as if he had leisure. As if he was biding his time. He didn’t need to take action. He didn’t need wealth or power or knowledge. Which meant he must already know the answer to solve the curse of the Dark Ones.
She had been caught staring, because he was watching her, bemused. “What fancy assumptions are running through your pretty head, I wonder.”
“What does it mean for the Dark Ones to win?” remarked Tomoyo, a continuation to their conversation at the cliff last night.
Leiyun glanced down at her. “There is no winner if the Dark Ones get their way. Everybody will lose.”
“But what would that signify?” asked Tomoyo. “If Sakura could not become the new mistress of the Clow Cards, a great destruction would have befallen upon her.”
“What was Sakura’s greatest destruction?” he asked.
“Forgetting the feeling toward the person she loves the most,” she replied.
“And Tomoyo, what about you? What would the greatest destruction be for you?”
Tomoyo frowned for a second in thought. “I think it would be the same for me. Losing memory of those I love the most. I think that would be the worst thing that can happen to me.”
Leiyun smiled crookedly. “But for me, that doesn’t sound so bad. Forgetting love sometimes can be a relief. Look at Fuutie, for instance. Wouldn’t she be happier now if she could just forget her love for Wu Zino?”
“That’s not true!” exclaimed Tomoyo. “Being able to love is the greatest blessing, and no matter how much pain can come along with it, it doesn’t negate, nor even nullify its joys as well.”
“A love that is doomed from the beginning, isn’t it better not to start it?” asked Leiyun, his marble blue eyes resting on her for a second. “What’s the use of loving someone who loves another person and will never turn your way?”
“I think there is no greater happiness than being able to share your heart while you can,” said Tomoyo, suddenly recalling their conversation the previous night about Clow Reed’s first love. “To give all your love while you can, for there might come a time when you not will be able to do so, even if you wanted to.”
“The man I respected the most in the world once said something similar,” Leiyun murmured, eyes closed. “And yet, what came of it? He was a man full of regrets at the end of life. Made me think, it would rather have been a blessing to forget that kind of wretched love that could never be.”
“Then perhaps you have not yet been able to experience that kind of wretched love which is worth fighting for,” she said, scooping up the soft kitten in her arms.
This brought a twisted smile to his lips, and he agreed. “Perhaps you are right about that. But you speak as you have experienced it.”
“Probably not,” said Tomoyo, shutting her eyes, recalling Edward Cleau Reed, his first and last love, Mizuki Mika, and the mysterious Chang Ryojiro who had gotten between them. “Li-sensei, what would be your idea of greatest destruction?”
“I think, for me, the greatest destruction would be losing my mind, my sanity,” he said, letting her change the subject. “Cogito ergo sum. I think, therefore I am.”
“So said Descartes,” murmured Tomoyo. “But doesn’t your memories help form your identity and make you, you?”
“A human being is driven by making rational choices and adapting to the given situation as well as possible,” said Leiyun. “If I lose my loved ones, I will still have my memory of them. If I lose my memories, I can make new ones. But if I lose my sanity and am no longer able to make logical choices, I cease to be me.”
Tomoyo tilted her head. “I am curious though, how did you keep your sanity for that long in Limbo? I’ve heard that most people would have broken long before, trapped in a void between time and dimensions.”
“Humans are odd creatures. When you have a strong desire, the rest of you can decay but your soul will keep on going to carry out that desire.” Leiyun stared out the window without further elaborating.
During his time in Limbo, Leiyun had sacrificed his time, freedom, memories he could have made with his loved ones, and nearly his sanity. Time flowed differently in Limbo. It may have been five years in this world, but Leiyun had been subject to the torture of being trapped in the place between worlds for possibly all eternity. And yet, he had survived. Leiyun had come back from virtual death. Tomoyo wondered what Leiyun’s strong desire might have been, that kept him going, kept him alive during that time. His sense of duty? Ambition? Revenge? Or as he put it, Eros, instinct for life?
******
Frustratingly, between Syaoran’s sisters permanently having infiltrated the school and preparations for the cultural festival, Sakura did not have a moment alone with Syaoran until that afternoon during orchestra rehearsal for the Cinderella play, a joint collaboration between her class and Kara and Jinyu’s class. She hissed, “Why didn’t you tell me about what was going on up at Mount Kumatori yesterday? You knew, didn’t you?”
Syaoran polished his mahogany violin nonchalantly. “Meilin and Kai texted me about the situation. It seemed they had things under control.”
“You could have said something to me,” said Sakura.
“But you’re scared of ghosts and Mount Kumatori is completely haunted at nighttime with the Great Ones’ seal being broken and all,” said Syaoran solemnly. “Besides, I didn’t tell you because you still would have insisted on going up there. And I didn’t want to go.”
“You didn’t?” Because he wanted to spend time with her? Could she hope that their Tokyo outing had been a date? Or had that just been just a reward for being a good secretary, as he had said? Maybe Syaoran just really wanted to watch that awful horror film, which he genuinely seemed to enjoy—he had been smiling throughout the whole movie.
“No. My two sisters showed up, and I wanted to avoid them at all costs,” replied Syaoran. “I can’t wait till they return to Hong Kong.”
“They’re going back now, right, since the board of trustee meeting is over?” asked Sakura.
“No, they’re staying an extra week to see Gotherella,” said Syaoran with a groan. “Dratted Tomoyo for telling them about it.”
“Dratted Gotherella is what this play would become if my two violinists continue to gad about when rehearsal started five minutes ago!” barked Leiyun, arms crossed, standing behind the two truants. “Stop chatting, the play is this weekend, and you lot are atrocious!”
To her dismay, Sakura could barely keep up during orchestra practice—she hadn’t practiced all weekend long and her fingers fumbled over the chords. Syaoran, first violin and concert master, glanced over at her anxiously and mouthed to her that that she was on the wrong page.
“Who is playing sloppily again? Is that you, second violin?” snapped Leiyun, tapping his baton on the music stand. “An ogre can play better music than you.”
Sakura heard heavy footsteps echo around her. She felt the hair prickling behind her neck; Leiyun was standing directly behind her to her utmost discomfort. “Hold out your bow horizontally,” he told her. His hand reached over to her other wrist. “Loosen your left hand—widen the gap between your thumb and forefinger. Your posture is horrible—you haven’t even mastered the basics and you insist on playing. Good posture is everything to play any instrument, sports or martial arts.”
After sauntering behind her, Leiyun snapped at her, “Do you even know how to read notes? You’re three sheets behind.”
“I do!” retorted Sakura, before mumbling quietly, “I’m just not quick at it.”
“You shouldn’t be playing an instrument if you can’t read notes! Go back and learn the fundamentals properly before you even think of picking up a violin again!” Leiyun barked at her.
Sakura shot back, “Jimi Hendrix didn’t know how to read music!”
Leiyun snorted. “You’re hardly a musical genius, nor the greatest guitarist of all time.”
“But Sakura’s pretty much self-taught though,” remarked Syaoran nonchalantly. “You should have heard what she sounded like three winters ago practicing for our Christmas concert quartet.”
Sakura glared at her band mate and muttered, “You weren’t much better then.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” remarked Leiyun. “At this rate, I might as well promote third violin to the first seat.” But the senior who played third violin looked so horrified at the idea, that the entire violin section played with more gung-ho than ever before, Sakura determined not to be outshone by Syaoran, Syaoran determined to prove to Leiyun he was not so easily replaceable by the third violin.
Though she hated to admit it, Sakura found her neck was less cramped and her sound rang truer by the end of practice just with a few tips from Leiyun.
“Well, well, who would have thought,” said Leiyun as the orchestra made it through the score in one go. “You lot aren’t completely hopeless, after all.”
And the members of the orchestra beamed proudly; though Leiyun had not exactly praised them, this was the closest to a compliment they had ever received from their strict conductor.
“You have to play for us now!” called out the cellist. “You promised.”
Leiyun smiled at them brightly. “Now that you’ve learned the basic score, we have a new ballroom waltz to take on next!” And the orchestra groaned out loud.
Sakura glanced over at Syaoran, sitting next to her, smiling with the rest of the orchestra. It struck her hard to see Syaoran happy at school. He actually enjoyed learning from Leiyun. Leiyun went on to strum several chords of the ballroom waltz for them on the keyboard. “An enchanting feeling, the thrill, the anticipation that something magical is about to happen, that’s the emotion I want you to convey in the ballroom scene,” he told the mesmerized students.
“Can someone who can produce such beautiful music be truly evil?” mumbled Sakura as they wrapped for the day, and she put her violin—actually her brother’s old violin which had belonged to their mother—into its case.
“You think Leiyun is evil?” asked Syaoran, raising an eyebrow, swinging his worn leather violin case over his shoulder.
“Yes, vile and evil,” reiterated Sakura.
“Don’t take it to heart, about him going at you during rehearsal. He’s always been very strict when teaching,” said Syaoran. “Runs in the family.”
“I’m not bitter about that or anything!” exclaimed Sakura. “I know I didn’t play the notes right.” She mumbled quietly, “And maybe he actually did teach me a thing or two.”
Syaoran paused, fiddling with his thumbs. “He’s complicated, but I never thought Leiyun particularly to be evil.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. He’s your favorite cousin,” Sakura mumbled.
“I thought Meilin is my favorite cousin,” Syaoran remarked wryly.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her,” said Sakura. “I know you trust Leiyun. But whatever time he spent trapped in the Dragon Isles broke his mind for sure—or he was playacting all along. I mean, he’s the one who locked you up in the dungeon and tried to fry your brain!”
“It was with my best interest in mind,” said Syaoran. “He wanted to motivate me to regain my powers quicker.”
“Sure, he didn’t want to destroy you and become the Chosen One himself,” mumbled Sakura.
Syaoran looked genuinely surprised. “It’s not like you to badmouth anyone, Sakura. I thought you always see the good in people. You did in me.”
His disappointed tone stung her pride. “I tried to keep an open mind about Leiyun, but I can’t forget all he did. And now, he’s trying to take Tomoyo-chan away!” Sakura exclaimed.
Syaoran almost laughed at the last remark. “Is that what this is about? I’m sure he’ll have great success with that. Though oddly enough, they do sort of get along in their own way. Leiyun always did have a strange effect on people, and Tomoyo’s too nosy for her own good.”
“He’s dangerous.” She was sure Leiyun had lifted the seal around Mount Kumatori, releasing all the yokai and forces. The question was, had Syaoran known? Is that why he didn’t say anything? Was his role last night to distract her so that she couldn’t intervene?
“You accepted Chang Eron into the Star Alliance, and he’s just a ticking bomb. But you don’t see me complaining,” remarked Syaoran.
Sakura said, rather cruelly, “Well, according to him, you are the bigger ticking bomb.” And the moment she saw the flicker of regret in Syaoran’s amber eyes, her eyes widened. “I’m sorry Syaoran. I didn’t mean any of that. And really, I’ll try to keep more of an open mind about Li-sensei.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I’m not defending him just because he’s family. It’s because I wish you really could give him a fair chance.”
But you are completely different from Leiyun, she wanted to scream at him. Instead, she smiled tightly and said through gritted teeth, “Of course. After all, he is your family.”
******
“Leiyun’s vile and evil,” declared Li Fuutie to her younger brother, seated across his kitchen counter later that evening. “I think he purposefully got lost coming down Mount Kumatori. And he did not lift a single finger the whole evening when the yokai and ogre attacked us.”
“I don’t know why you and Shiefa decided to go up to the Mizuki Shrine of all places,” said Syaoran crossly, as he served his oldest sister a cup of oolong tea. “Leiyun really should not have taken you up there. It could’ve dangerous.”
Fuutie blinked at her younger brother bemusedly. “Are you scolding me? Is this why you voluntarily invited me over for tea? I thought it was a rarity, one-on-one teatime with my apparently always busy younger brother. So, where exactly were you all night when all havoc was running loose on Mount Kumatori?”
“Meilin reported that the situation was under control,” said Syaoran, sipping his steaming tea.
“Yeah, a responsible Great Elder and Card Mistress you and Sakura make,” remarked Fuutie. “I mean, this was the big deal. There were yokai and fox demons and even a real, live mountain ogre!”
“Was it cute?”
“What, the ogre?” Fuutie blinked in confusion. “No, it was a hideous giant one-eyed toad-like creature.”
“Oh. I always thought ogres would be cute,” said Syaoran, shoulders sagging. “Like a giant, plush bunny rabbit.”
Fuutie snorted over her tea. “What gave you that idea?” Then she recalled Touya’s endearing nickname for his younger sister was kaiju.
“So, who do you think lifted the seal?” asked Syaoran.
“I don’t know,” said Fuutie vaguely. “It’s an ancient spell—maybe the seal weakened of its own.” She paused. “What, you think Leiyun did it?”
Syaoran stared at the black tea leaves that had sunk to the bottom of his mug. “Fuutie, I don’t know what you are playing at. But as Great Elder, I can’t overlook actions that jeopardize not only our Clan but the Alliance of the Stars.”
“Leiyun wouldn’t do anything so reckless, especially without consultation of the Council of Elders,” said Fuutie with nervous laughter. “Besides it would take someone of Clow Reed’s reincarnation’s level to lift the seal, don’t you think?”
“It would take five people to take down the seal, because five magicians set it up in the first place,” said Syaoran. “The banquet was an alibi. You and Shiefa helped Leiyun, Kara, and Erika take down the seal over Mount Kumatori. Why?”
“You’ve gotten quite sharp, little brother,” sighed Fuutie. “Can’t hide anything from you anymore. It’s true. But don’t blame Shiefa—she only participated because I begged her to. I’ve heard stories that Mount Kumatori is the place of origin of the legendary White Tiger, Baihu, or Byakko as you call it in Japan. I thought I would be able to see him in his true form here, or his spirit at least. That is why I asked Leiyun to help take down the seal over Mount Kumatori.”
“Or perhaps it’s Leiyun who suggested such ideas to you in the first place and got you and Shiefa involved according to his plan,” said Syaoran.
Fuutie stared at her younger brother. “You were closer to Leiyun than anyone else—you’ve trusted him more than anyone else. You know Lei. In his twisted way, he was just trying to help. I’m sorry. I should have talked to you first.”
“I’m not mad,” said Syaoran. “He would have found a way to take down that seal with or without your help. I’m just glad you did not get hurt last night.” Changing the topic, he asked, “Where is Shiefa?”
“She’s watching a Seijou High basketball game. She’s quite taken with the team captain,” replied Fuutie. “You know she always had a soft spot for athletes.”
“Yes, I am aware,” said Syaoran dryly. “How about you? I heard from Mother you turned down seven proposals over the past year. And a few of them were apparently quite decent.”
Fuutie crossed her arms. “Really? There was one guy who spits when he talks, one who was in his mid-forties and balding, and don’t even bring up the stinky breath one who only talked about his mom.”
“How about Tyler Tang?” remarked Syaoran. “You can’t find anything wrong with him—he’s good-looking, clean-cut and nice—unlike his awful uncle—and he’s asked you out numerous times over the years.”
“How do you even know that?” asked Fuutie. “Yeah, if I fancy a vain guy who spends more time in front of the mirror than myself, Tyler might be okay. But I just don’t see him in that way.”
“It won’t hurt to give some of your suitors just a chance,” said Syaoran. “Even if it’s just one dinner with them.”
Arms akimbo, Fuutie declared, “For heaven’s sake, I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you, Syaoran. Who put you up to it? Mother? The Elders?”
“I’m speaking on behalf of the whole family,” said Syaoran. “But as your brother, if you are not interested, I will respect your wishes. I just want you to find your path to happiness.”
“Well, I’m perfectly content by myself,” replied Fuutie with a smile that did not reach her blue eyes. “I don’t need to rely on anyone to find happiness.”
Syaoran asked quietly, “Is it because of Zino?”
Fuutie paled. “Who did you hear about him from? Shiefa?”
“Zino’s been dead for over two years now—it’s time to let him go.”
Fuutie said softly, “He was the love of my life.”
“I know.”
“So don’t ask me to forget him.”
Syaoran stared into his sister’s blue eyes, a shade darker than his father’s had been. “If it is your wish, I won’t bring up the issue again. And I will tell the others to lay off as well. But I wish you can find closure, because until you do, you will continue to suffer. And I do not wish to see you hurting anymore. You don’t have to forget in order to let go and move on.”
Fuutie stared hard at her younger brother, who had always been clumsy with words, but somehow, what he said rang sincere, as if he really did know. She murmured, “It was a secret, our relationship, for so many years. And I couldn’t share my grief with anyone, save Shiefa, who knew pretty much from the beginning. But it was a love blessed by no one.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t have been there to support you while you went through all that,” said Syaoran. “If it’s the person you chose, he must have been a good person. But I’m here right now, to listen.”
“He died so abruptly,” whispered Fuutie. It was a relief to speak so openly about Wu Zino. Ironically, it was possible only after his death, and now that she started, she couldn’t stop. “One day, he was there, and the next he wasn’t. And I never got to say goodbye. We parted angry. Never make that mistake, Syaoran. Even if you fight, always make up before you part, for you never known when that will be your last meeting, your last chance.”
“I may have learned the hard way,” murmured Syaoran, recalling a girl with long windswept golden-brown hair and glistening emerald eyes as she stood by the harbor of Hong Kong.
Fuutie said quietly, “The other night, I tried to strangle Jinyu in his sleep. I genuinely would have killed him if the others didn’t come stop me. I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m losing control of myself. Maybe I’m becoming a monster.”
Syaoran took his sister’s hand. “You’re being controlled by a dark force, one of the Emotions. We’re going to seal it, so don’t worry.”
“It’s not a dark force,” whispered Fuutie. “These demons in my heart, they’re nothing new. The hatred I have for the one who took Zino from me, this fury toward the Black Dragon, it’s always been there. I tried to think, there must have been a reason, there must have been some circumstance. But seeing him here, attending school, acting as if he’d forgotten the sin he has committed, it infuriates me. I can’t forgive him. I can’t forgive him for killing Zino. And even more, I can’t forgive that Zino had trusted and relied on Jinyu more than anyone else, even me.”
It was Sakura who would know the right thing to say in a situation like him. Syaoran thought about the man who had loved Kinomoto Fujiko, and Sakura’s words to him three winters ago, not long after he had returned to Japan for a second time. He said slowly, “What would Wu Zino have wanted? If he is watching over you, and I believe he is, I think it would sadden him to know that you are still trapped in such darkness. He would want you to find happiness.”
And Fuutie stared at her younger brother in fascination. “So, who’s been teaching you such uncharacteristically sound lines, baby brother of mine? Surely these are not your own words?”
Syaoran replied with a crooked smile, “Yes, they’re borrowed from a wise person I know.”
“Well, I’m going to try harder to get this dark force under control and not be an embarrassment to you,” said Fuutie with a half-hearted grin.
“You’re not alone in this. You have your family,” said Syaoran. “Don’t forget that.”
******
Kara Reed kicked off her ankle boots and curled down on the parlor sofa of the Li mansion, resting her head on the armrest. The house seems quiet for a change since the Li sisters were out, and odd enough, it seemed strangely empty without their insistent chatter. “I meant to ask, how did the Li Group Japan board meeting go yesterday? Syaoran didn’t make a fool of himself?”
“Syaoran did a good job,” said Leiyun, seated across from her on the maroon velvet couch. “He must have prepared a lot and didn’t even ask for my help.”
Kara shrugged. “He always tries harder than anyone else, I’ll give him that. So, where exactly was he last night? I’m surprised he didn’t show up on Mount Kumatori. But I guess it’s his first day off since your Great Elder died.”
Leiyun’s lips curled into a half-smile. “Why else would I have chosen yesterday?”
“But things didn’t exactly go as you planned,” muttered Kara, watching a little white kitten scramble out from under the couch and climb onto Leiyun’s shoulder, licking his cheek and nose.
“Hey that tickles, Byakko-chan,” said Leiyun, nuzzling his cheek on the kitten’s soft fur, his silvery bangs falling into his eyes.
The half-man, half-boy that she had discovered trapped in the Dragon Isles had seemed so frail and vulnerable, with hollow eyes that had seemed so old, as if he’s seen the end of the world and worse, and yet, the hands that had clung onto her had seemed desperate like that of a child who had lost his mother. This inscrutable person sitting across from her was neither vulnerable nor lost, yet ancient and childlike all the same. She feared him and pitied him, trusted him with her life and disbelieved every word he uttered.
He asked her, “Fuutie and Shiefa are having dinner at Syaoran’s, and I gave Wei the night off after yesterday’s fiasco. Should we order pizza or Chinese?”
“Fuutie’s a nutcase, can’t she just stay with Syaoran? I’m not sure if I want to be living under the same roof as her,” said Kara.
“You scare me more than she does,” drawled Leiyun, letting the kitten tug at a stray yarn in his ivory knit sweater. “You have a worse temper than my Uncle Daifu and better marksmanship than Jinyu. And you play an evil stepmother astonishingly well.”
“I had an evil stepfather,” said Kara with a twisted smile. “Had plenty of source material to draw from.”
“Point well taken.” Leiyun then remarked offhandedly, “Have you been talking with that childhood friend of yours? I didn’t expect that boy to be up there on Mount Kumatori yesterday.”
“Kai’s always had darned good instinct.”
“He’s a wily, troublesome one, Kaitou Magician, interfering like that, trying to prove Mount Kumatori is his turf,” murmured Leiyun.
“I’m sorry,” said Kara stiffly. “I should have been more cautious.”
“While his interference puts a slight damper on our plans, I don’t necessarily think it’s a bad thing,” said Leiyun. “You never told me he had protection under the Phoenix.”
Kara frowned. “That, I didn’t know. It looks like the Alliance didn’t, either—he always keeps his cards well hidden. You seem to think we are very close. But we only know each other briefly when we were younger. We’ve spent many more years apart.”
She could feel his penetrating gaze on her and more was said in that silence. He finally said, “What’s important is that the seal is broken, and Eriol’s flimsy barrier is but a minor setback.”
And Kara said softly, “I will continue to keep an eye on him.”
“I know you would.” Leiyun let his kitten curl into a ball on his lap and picked up his copy of the Cinderella play, pencil in hand. He was no longer displeased, distracted as he hummed a tune, tapping his finger against the armrest triple time. “Don’t you think a fast-paced jubilant waltz will be better for the ballroom scene in Cinderella?”
“Jinyu can be dancing to a funeral march in that scene for all he cares,” said Kara, wrinkling her nose.
Spurned, Leiyun asked his kitten, “Byakko-nyan, do you prefer Strauss or Brahms?”
“So, have you been making any progress with her?” remarked Kara, staring down at her maroon nails.
“Who?”
“Demon Empress Tomoyo, who else? You’ve been spending a lot of time with her,” said Kara.
“Thanks to this play,” remarked Leiyun. “Do you think the finale should be a grand orchestral piece? Or a piano solo?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” replied Kara. “I didn’t repeat my senior year of high school to star in some stinking fairytale play as an evil stepmother.”
“But it is said, all the world’s a stage,” said Leiyun. “And all the men and women merely players.”
“I hate Shakespeare and all playwrights,” said Kara, wrangling her Cinderella script. “And I especially hate that creep Hiiragizawa Eriol. I swear, I’m going to put a hex on this play.”
“Don’t you think it’s already cursed enough as is with its main stars being the Black Dragon and Dark One No. 1?” chuckled Leiyun, rubbing the kitten’s belly. “Genius casting.”
******
Tuesday…
“What are you up to now, Erika?” mumbled Chang Eron, smothering a yawn into his pillow. It was rare to see his twin sister up at the crack of dawn of her own accord.
“Get up, lazy butts,” said Erika, clamorously banging a ladle on a frying pan.
“We still have an hour before we need to get to school,” grumbled Eron, pulling his blanket over his head again.
“Rehearsal, of course,” replied Erika, yanking away his blanket and pillow. “You two are the worst of the bunch in the play. Even Kara nails all her lines, and she hasn’t even read the script!”
Eron groaned. “That cursed play. Is this why you invited the Black Dragon to stay over?”
“Yes, boot camp starts from today,” said Erika, and she stormed over to the
room next doors, without even the etiquette to knock, striking the ladle on the
pan as a gong.
A dazed Li Jinyu glanced around at the unfamiliar room and blinked slowly at a chipper schoolgirl with violet hair tied up into a high ponytail, who was shaking a pan at him and telling him something about rehearsing for a school play.
It took a good quarter hour more for Erika to get the two dressed and assembled in the living room. And the Black Dragon rehearsing at school gave an Academy Award winning performance compared to a disgruntled Jinyu woken up at 5 a.m. Eron, as if sensing his twin’s impending wrath, was quick to cooperate and play his part. He had memorized all this lines by now and didn’t have to exert much effort at all. Well, at this point, Erika had memorized them too after being a practice partner to both Jinyu and Eron.
“Wait, you can’t leave,” said Jinyu stiltedly to Cinderella.
“I must leave before midnight,” replied Eron unenthusiastically. “I promised the fairy godmother.”
“When will I be able to see you again?” Jinyu asked.
“Oh, I don’t I have time! I must leave now,” said Eron, clasping his hands together.
And Jinyu had already blanked out and stumbled to find his next line in the
script. “Oh. This glass slipper must be hers. I must find her.”
“Just kill me already,” grumbled Eron, downing a cup of black coffee. “A GPS navigator could play the part better.”
Cautiously, Erika turned to the Black Dragon, supposedly considered the most feared man in Hong Kong, and rightfully so as he glared at her ghoulishly through his long black bangs covering half his face. “There must be a reason Tomoyo picked you for the part, for I have faith in her discerning eyes, and you have to search for that answer.”
“I was sure that was just her method of slowly torturing me,” replied Jinyu. “For my role in the April Fools’ Day Massacre.”
Erika nodded. “Good point.”
“That girl reminds me of the legendary female boss of the Hong Kong triads—the Amethyst Dragon. Way before my time, from the glory days of the triads,” said Jinyu.
“Oh, I’ve heard of her too,” said Eron, perking up. “The Amethyst Dragon was known for her great beauty, as well as the cruel and unusual punishments she dealt her opponents. She would disembowel her opponents—and send their body parts back to their family in a fancy velvet-lined box.”
Erika choked. “Surely Tomoyo’s not that awful.”
Jinyu said solemnly, “I would rather be disemboweled than be in this play.”
“Well, you didn’t have to be in it if you really didn’t want to do it,” Erika pointed out.
“Leiyun likes the play.”
Erika blinked several times. “Leiyun? So, you are doing this for Leiyun? Because you think it’ll entertain him?”
The Black Dragon replied straight-faced, “The world is a lot more peaceful when he is occupied with a new project.”
And Erika snorted at the Dragon King’s shrewd observation. “You should just tell him you don’t have time to waste on a school play. You are, after all, the Dragon King of the Hong Kong triads.”
“Li Leiyun has never listened to anyone in his life, not his father, not the Great Elder, definitely not any of his cousins,” said Jinyu.
It sounded vaguely like a compliment, or maybe it wasn’t. She fluttered her lashes and said, “So, we have established that you are going to carry through with this play, no matter what, right?” She slammed her script on the dining table. “Now, learn these darned lines even if it means you have to tattoo them onto your other arm!”
Eron almost felt sorry for the Black Dragon and whispered to him, “This was my life for half a year in junior high. We went over our lines day and night for Star-Crossed—our major musical production back at Seijou Junior High. Of course, this was while I was doing my best to sabotage the musical back then. Erika learned not only her part but all of Juliet’s because she was convinced that Sakura would not make it back from combatting the Fates.”
Jinyu muttered, “I was counting on that. A destructive dark force.”
“There will be no dark force interrupting the play—I won’t allow it!” said Erika, slamming her hands down on the table. And rather than face her fury, the other two proceeded to continue with the script robotically.
“Oh, the shoe fits perfectly. You must be my mysterious princess from the ball,” mumbled Jinyu monotonously, nose in script.
Nodding deep in thought, Erika snapped her fingers. “I got it! I've finally realized what the problem is.”
Eron flayed his hands up in the air, palms up. “Yes, it’s him. He’s the problem!”
But Erika pointed her rolled up script at Jinyu’s nose. “Who says the prince has to be some gallant knight on a white horse?”
“You did,” Eron muttered under this breath.
Shaking her head rapidly, Erika said, “Jinyu, you don't have to try to be a sparkling, flowery, charming prince. That’s just not who you are. You can just interpret the role to suit you.”
“Interpret the role?” Jinyu blinked at her as if she was speaking a foreign language.
“Yes. I mean, you are fine as you are,” said Erika, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Tomoyo definitely did not pick you because she expected you to play some flamboyant Casanova—if she wanted that she would have cast Aki for the part. The play is being called Goth Cinderella, and you’re not that far from the mark as is, a Prince of Darkness incarnate. So just be yourself on stage.”
“I get to take down people?”
“Sure, just not Cinderella,” said Erika. “People these days like the troubled, brooding antiheros, anyway.”
And the corner of Jinyu’s eyes crinkled, erasing for a moment that harsh constant frown that had cemented itself on his brows. Erika thought this might have been the first time she had ever seen him smile, and she felt something lurch in her stomach. Yes, horror that the Black Dragon actually was capable of something human, like smiling, or having a sense of humor.
******
“School’s out!” exclaimed Yanagisawa Naoko, rushing out of the classroom as soon as the bell for last period rang.
“What’s going on?” asked Tomoyo, as students checked their mobile phones and streamed down the hallway, toward the stairwell leading to the auditorium after school ended for the day.
Naoko, looking up from her phone, fingers rapidly moving over the touchpad to forward the message to all her friends, replied, “Come, we have to head to the auditorium right away.”
Taking her friend’s lead, Tomoyo pushed through the crowds to see what all the students had gathered in the auditorium for, when they should be busy preparing for the cultural festival.
On the stage was a lone man, in a crisp white button-down shirt over white slacks, propping up a gleaming mahogany cello. And from the first note he struck, she watched mesmerized. There were only a few people who held that much stage presence with a single string instrument. His bow flew over the body of the cello, producing a low and rich sound from the wooden instrument that she did not know was possible.
Tomoyo found herself reaching for her camcorder and zooming in the lens toward the stage. His eyes were closed, and he was playing without sheet music. It was strange, she thought if there was an angel, Leiyun would have personified one, with his silver hair gleaming under the spotlight, as he moved with the music. And yet, the timbre he produced was desperate, full of anguish.
“The tune sounds familiar,” said Miho after a while. “I wonder what it is.”
“Paganini's Caprice No. 24,” murmured Tomoyo.
“I didn’t know that Caprice No. 24 could be played on the cello. I always thought it was a violin piece,” remarked Rika. “I finally get why Li-sensei was always harping on the cellist in orchestra. He’s awfully good, isn’t he?”
“That’s considered one of the most difficult pieces ever written for the solo violin,” remarked Eriol.
“I can imagine so,” said Meilin, nodding her head to the music. “Leiyun always liked challenges.”
Miho said with a scowl. “Is there anything that man can’t do?”
“Lis are perfectionists,” said Kai. “They are trained from an early age to be excel at everything. It’s a part of their early education.”
“Don’t make us sound like some sort of androids,” said Meilin.
“Oh, with the exception of you,” said Kai with a laugh. “Why don’t you play an instrument?”
Meilin scowled. “Don’t you think they tried to teach me? I was horrendous at the piano. I drove my music teacher to tears with my screeching flute. So finally my mother told me, just focus on my other talents.”
Kai raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”
“Shut up!” Meilin stuck out her tongue at Kai. “As if you aren’t a perfectionist yourself.”
“I, myself, am a minimalist,” drawled Kai.
Shiefa, who had dropped by the school with her older sister, stared at the stage. “I’d almost forgotten how musically gifted Leiyun was.”
Fuutie remarked, “I wonder what convinced Lei to pick up a bow again.”
Rika said, “Li-sensei promised the orchestra he would play them one piece on the cello if they got through rehearsal without a single mistake—and he’s keeping his end of the bargain.”
“I’m no expert in classical music, but he seems pretty pro-level for someone who was supposedly locked in an iceberg for five years,” murmured Miho. “I’ve rarely seen Eriol look impressed with someone.”
Tomoyo, who had been listening intently, watched Leiyun’s bow glide over the strings, the last note of the cello rang true and clear. Leiyun opened his eyes, and for a moment, he seemed genuinely startled by the loud applause that greeted him, and the sheer number of people gathered in the auditorium, for it wasn’t just his orchestra members but half the school that had gathered to hear him perform. As Leiyun stepped down from the stage, students swarmed around him.
“You didn’t tell us you play the cello as well!” exclaimed Chiharu, clasping both her hands together.
“It’s customary to learn the piano before other instruments,” said Leiyun, looking somewhat embarrassed by the sudden attention.
Naoko swooned. “What other hidden talents do you have, Li-sensei?”
“I’m afraid that’s my last card. Now, my cousin Fuutie plays the saxophone very well,” Leiyun remarked. “I don’t do brass instruments though.”
“I didn’t know you played saxophone, Fuutie-nee-san,” remarked Sakura.
Fuutie closed her eyes. “Father, when he was alive, used to teach us older kids the violin when we were little. Of course, he was often off on missions abroad. But when he was home, there were evenings when Leiyun was over, and father would play us a tune. I wished to hear Father’s violin more often, but he didn’t like to play in front of an audience. It was Leiyun who first begged Father to teach us how play. Leiyun was always a quick learner and he picked up the violin really quickly. I believe he is pitch-perfect, as Father was.”
Shiefa recalled, “I was pretty hopeless, but Leiyun and Fuutie were good.”
“So Li-sensei plays the violin as well?” asked Miho.
“Naturally—Leiyun started off on the violin then moved on to other stringed instruments—but he always said the cello was his favorite, since it gave the richest sound,” replied Fuutie. “And a cello case was a good size to hide weapons in. But, I suspect the violin reminded him too much of Father. I was the same. After Father died, I sort of lost the desire to play the violin—so I switched over to brass instruments when I joined the middle school orchestra. But Leiyun took it in hand to teach Syaoran the basics in violin at least.”
“It’s no surprise,” stated Sakura. “Syaoran is very good at the violin.”
Shiefa gave a shrug. “He’s considered mediocre in our family—I don’t think he’s even won any awards at a music competition, granted he was always too busy training to be Chosen One to have time to enter any.”
“No, Syaoran is really brilliant,” insisted Sakura loyally.
Fuutie chuckled. “Syaoran plays by the book—he plays mechanically, the way he deals with anything. But Leiyun knows how to manipulate notes and draw out a reaction from listeners—he’s a showman.”
The squealing squad of girls finally trailed out, and Tomoyo realized that Leiyun had somehow walked across the auditorium in a stride toward her. On one hand, she, like the army of gushing girls, was thoroughly impressed. If it was anybody other than Li Leiyun, she would have gushed with them, for she appreciated a fantastic performer when she saw one. But frankly, she had always loathed people who tried to show off through music, who hammered out the technical aspects for the sake of holding a grandiose performance, meant to impress the crowds, without any sort of emotion or thought behind their sound. Which was why she had always like Eriol’s piano, because it was understated but rang sincere to her ears.
“Don’t look so appalled, Tomoyo-chan,” said Leiyun, suddenly by her side. “Didn’t your mother make you learn an instrument or two as a kid?”
He had caught her off guard, and Tomoyo asked, “Whose cello was that? It looked well-worn, but the timbre was rich and warm.”
“Mine,” said Leiyun. “I asked Shiefa to bring it over from Hong Kong. She dug it out of an old closet somewhere. My father apparently had not thrown it away like most of my other belongings.”
Tomoyo found herself looking into Leiyun’s silver-blue eyes. His tone was always jesting, yet sometimes there were hidden barbs in his words.
“Is Paganini your favorite?” she asked. “You played Paganini last time as well.”
“Not particularly. My music tutors liked Paganini because of the difficulty level, so they could boast to the other music tutors at competitions about the talents of their protégés,” he replied offhandedly.
“But you are a natural at it. Which means you must have practiced a lot.”
“Back in the days,” replied Leiyun. “Before I realized I don’t particularly enjoy playing.”
“That’s a pity,” she said. “You play so well.”
Leiyun shrugged. “I might have enjoyed violin at the beginning because I was eager to catch up with Uncle Ryuuren. After he passed on, I had music tutors who were bent on getting another competition title under their belts, and I became their new pet project. By then, it no longer was enjoyable for me. It was just another skill set I had to master, and it became a chore.”
“Why didn’t you quit if you didn’t enjoy it anymore?” she asked.
“I switched to cello, which was a bit better. People say cello is the instrument whose sound is the most similar to the human voice,” said Leiyun. “But I grew tired of it after a couple years.”
“Because you won all the awards you could, and there was no one better at the instrument than you in your age bracket?” asked Tomoyo wryly.
He glanced at her, amused. “That too. But I care not for awards or accolades. I played only for your ears today. Yet again, I failed to impress.”
Shiefa and the others caught up to them. “Leiyun, did you make me lug that heavy cello all the way to Japan so that you can show off to your students? You couldn’t just borrow the school cello? And no, you wouldn’t have it shipped to you either.”
“Of course not,” replied Leiyun. “That’s a rare Stradivari cello that used to belong to Niccolo Paganini himself.”
“What?” exclaimed Shiefa. “It must cost millions of dollars! Why didn’t you let me know, I wouldn’t have dared knock it about. And when did you get your hands on a Stradivarius when you were only a kid? Or do I even want to know?”
Leiyun chuckled. “You are as gullible as ever, Shiefa. That beat up old cello? As if I’d let a priceless Stradivari grow mold in your closet.”
“Li-sensei, I think that was the best string performance I have heard in my life, and Eriol used to take me to concerts at the Royal Albert Hall all the time back in London!” exclaimed Miho. “You’ve got to play for us again in music class!”
“Nobody beats Li Ryuuren-san,” said Sakura with a pout. Then she realized she had been rude to someone who was technically her teacher and added, “I didn’t mean any offense.”
But Leiyun laughed out loud, looking genuinely pleased. “Why should I be offended? Uncle Ryuuren was a musical prodigy. Except, nobody recognized the talent he had because it was not a needed one. And he let that talent rot away.”
“Father was good, but isn’t it a stretch to call him a musical prodigy?” asked Shiefa. “I mean, I remember all the adults saying he was good, but I’m not sure if they can tell the difference between Mendelssohn and Bach. I was young, and I just liked the tunes he played us in our parlor.”
“He placed first in Asian Youth Violin Competition when he was 16,” said Leiyun. “He may have gone on to the International Competition, but instead, he became the Chosen One and came to Japan. His music was the kind that would leave you in despair. You would watch him and realize there was no way that you would ever be as good as he was no matter how much you practiced.”
“I know what you mean,” said Sakura softly. “His melody was lonely and yearning, yet so beautiful it would fill you with utter hopelessness. I’ve never heard a sound like that.”
Shiefa stared down at Sakura. “You’ve heard Father play?”
“Well…Sort of, yes,” mumbled Sakura.
“I see. I envy you. I was too young to truly appreciate my father’s music much when I was young,” said Shiefa. “I wish we had some sort of recording of it.”
“Oh!” Tomoyo exclaimed. “We have some recordings from the Star-Crossed musical demo tapes in our school archives that Kai’s been helping me to remaster.”
“Really?” asked Fuutie. “I would love to share them with my Fanren and Feimei—they don’t remember Father much at all.”
“I too would love to hear his playing again,” murmured Leiyun.
“I will make a copy for you as well then,” Tomoyo found herself saying.
Leiyun smiled. “I’d appreciate that.”
******
Kinomoto Sakura stared over the brim of the mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream at the brown-haired boy sitting at the far end of Eriol’s study during the weekly meeting of the Alliance of the Stars. How was it that she spent so much time with Syaoran during the day and could never find a moment alone with him? Tonight, after the Alliance meeting, she had to confess to him for it was a rare moment both his sisters were not around.
“The situation on Mount Kumatori is stable, so should we leave things as is for now?” said Kai, amusedly following the direction of the Card Mistress’ gaze. “Are you listening, Sakura?”
“Sorry, how is the seal over Mount Kumatori holding up?” asked Sakura, turning her attention back on the Alliance’s discussion.
Eriol did not look up from the chessboard as he faced off Miho. “The seal is holding up well and there have been no issues with yokai leaking out of the area.”
“And Leiyun and crew have not been back to the mountain since, if that’s what you wanted to know,” said Kai. “Garuda’s been keeping watch.”
Miho turned the hourglass on the table as it was Eriol’s turn to make a move in their chess game. Eriol was playing with a handicap without his knight and bishop, along with a time limit, but still was beating her.
Kai whispered to her, “Sacrifice your rook to the pawn, then trap his queen
with your bishop and the other rook.”
And Miho scowled, “I can win by myself.” But instantly, she saw her brother’s point. Three steps ahead. Eriol played a long, meandering game, sometimes letting her take her pieces, for the fun of it, sometimes pretending to miss her advances. Then there was her brother, who played for the quickest checkmate possible.
“Let’s continue to keep a close watch on Mount Kumatori,” said Sakura. She turned to Meilin. “How about Fuutie-nee-san’s condition?”
“She’s been acting normally since then,” said Meilin. “Leiyun, Shiefa, Syaoran or myself are always with her throughout the day.”
“What is the identity of this White Tiger that you guys saw on the mountains?” asked Sakura. “You said it saved Fuutie-nee-san from a yokai?”
“I’m not sure,” replied Meilin. “But it seems that this White Tiger wanted to protect Fuutie-nee-san. Maybe it really was the White Tiger, or his spirit.”
“You are speaking of Wu Zino, the former head of the Hong Kong triads,” said Sakura. “Why was he called White Tiger? I thought he was known as the Golden Dragon in the triads?”
“Golden Dragon was the moniker he assumed as the head of the Hong Kong triads—all the bosses are named after a dragon,” said Syaoran. “But White Tiger is the name he’s had since before—it’s a Wu Clan title, I believe.”
“From what you guys told me, there could be more than one White Tiger,” pointed out Sakura.
“We can’t rule out it being just a dark force,” said Kero-chan.
“I think you guys have been forgetting something,” Suppi-chan said. “Each of the Five Force magicians were known to have a patron creature, or some may mistakenly have called it a familiar. But, it was more or less a contrast between the magician and a kami-level being. They are as deities of a higher tier than the dark forces, as well as more commonplace yokai, shikigami, and ghosts.”
Meilin remarked, “Amamiya Hayashi-sama’s patron spirit was the Wolf, Li Shulin-sama’s was the Dragon, Lord Landon Reed’s was the Unicorn, and Mizuki Mayura-sama’s was Perro-chan.”
“No, that’s just a disguise,” Kai groaned. “Mizuki Mayura-sama’s patron spirit was Garuda, the Phoenix.”
“Well, that means all the patron spirits have been by us for a long time—Syaoran awakened the Dragon the latest, but you’ve been with Perro-chan for years, right?” Miho asked. “When exactly did you first find Perro-chan?”
Kai replied vaguely, “Around four years ago.”
“And Sakura-senpai already sealed Wolfie-chan and the Unicorn.” Miho paused. “Wait, but what was the Dark One’s patron spirit then?
With inscrutable gray-blue eyes, Kai stared at Eron. “There were rumors that he was often seen with a tiger. A White Tiger.”
The members of the Alliance all turned to Eron.
Meilin exclaimed, “That means you were behind all the attacks!”
“It wasn’t me!” retorted Eron.
“How do we know you are speaking the truth?” asked Nakuru. “After all, you were the one who released the Insect last time.”
“That was an honest mistake,” said Eron. “And I would never use our patron animal to purposely try to injure Li Fuutie, or any of you guys. That’s not what the Five Force patron spirits were about. They were avatars for the Great Five, protectors in a sense.”
“True,” remarked Nakuru. “Clow Reed created Cerberus as Guardian of the Clow, inspired by the patron spirits of the Great Five. But we all are dependent on our masters as our source of power, whereas the Great Five’s patron animals are pretty much deities with great ancient powers of their own.”
“It would make sense that Chang Ruichi’s familiar was the noble White Tiger—and that it is also being used to cause havoc now,” said Miho.
“Chang Ruichi-sama’s patron spirit was not the White Tiger!” exclaimed Eron and turned to Sakura imploringly. “Believe me, Sakura, I’m not behind these attacks.”
Sakura nodded. “I believe you, Eron-kun. I’m sure this could be the work of a dark force, or forces, and I will get to the bottom of it.”
“How can we believe the descendent of the Dark One—we have only his word,” said Nakuru. “Can he go under the Libra to prove that?”
“There is no need for that. I vouch for Eron—I believe he is speaking the truth,” replied Sakura, her evergreen eyes meeting Nakuru’s gaze steadily. “Because he is a member of our Alliance.”
And Nakuru looked away first. “If you say so—you’re the Card Mistress.”
“Why could Sakura-senpai seal the Wolf and the Unicorn, but not Phoenix or the Dragon?” asked Miho suddenly. “Or can she?”
“She won’t be able to seal the Dragon or the Phoenix,” replied Eriol. “Syaoran through passing the Test of the Great Elders has sealed a contract with the Dragon Realm, enabling him to summon the power of its dragons, not singular. And your brother apparently has a close bond with the Phoenix and may have a similar sort of contract, but you will have to ask him yourself. Sakura was able to seal the Wolf because he is linked with Amamiya Hayashi-sama’s patron beast, and because the Wolf chose to stay with Sakura in the form most familiar to her, a contract as a Sakura Card. Sakura also inherited a little bit of Reed powers as he chosen successor and because she is the daughter of the other reincarnation of Clow Reed. Hence, the Unicorn also accepted Sakura as its mistress, so long as there was no other direct Reed descendent around. But it appears Kara Reed may also call summon the Unicorn, if she pleases.”
Miho asked, “So, what does that make Kero-chan and Suppi-chan then?”
“Artificial beings,” remarked Nakuru. “Yue and I also.”
“You are not artificial beings, Ruby Moon,” said Eriol. “Do you not have a spirit, soul, and heart, as well as a free will?”
“Then what do you consider us as?” asked Nakuru, arms crossed.
Eriol gave her a bonny smile. “My children, of course.”
Raising an eyebrow, Nakuru asked, “Even Yue?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Clow that,” said Eriol. “But I think Clow Reed would have said, Cerberus and Yue were his best friends. I know that because you and Spinel Sun have been my best friends, have you not?”
“Gosh, I almost feel like shedding a tear, and I’ve never cried in my life,” said Nakuru, making a face of disgust.
But Sakura clenched Kero-chan to her, sniffling, “Kero-chan, you know you are my best of best friends too, right?”
Kero-chan replied, face smashed into Sakura’s cheeks, “Tomoyo-chan is going to be devastated if she hears that.”
“No, it’s okay,” said Tomoyo with a sorrowful sigh. “I may not be Sakura’s best friend, nor her most important person, and the only person in this room not officially a part of the Alliance of the Stars, but I’m just happy to be able to watch over Sakura-chan.”
Sakura swerved around, tossing Kero-chan aside. “Tomoyo-chan, how can you say that? You are my most precious Tomoyo-chan!”
And Tomoyo squeezed Sakura into a tight hug, while she whispered in her ear, “Not the right person!”
“I’ve been thinking, is Li Jinyu the real culprit behind Wu Zino’s death, though?” said Miho.
“There must be a grain of truth to the rumors,” replied Suppi-chan.
Sakura remarked, “Isn’t it odd? Zian and Zilai seem to adore Jinyu. Would they follow someone who truly killed their brother, whom they doted upon?”
“It is pretty widespread knowledge that Jinyu defeated Zino in a duel to become the head of the Hong Kong triads,” Syaoran said. “But Zian had no qualms about becoming the Black Dragon’s second, and never even tried to defeat him, until this latest attack. And that really was more because his sister Pink Flamingo Zilai came to Japan because she wanted to bring Jinyu back to Hong Kong. The Wu Clan has no grudge against the Black Dragon.”
There was nothing to add to that, and Meilin declared to wrap up the meeting, “Kai, we’re going to be late for our dinner reservation at a sukiyaki restaurant in Tokyo to celebrate my gold medal.”
“We are?” Kai asked when Meilin jabbed him in the ribs. “I mean, yes, I brought my car.”
Eriol muttered something about being occupied with last-minute script revisions, shutting himself in the study and promptly kicking everyone out. And Tomoyo gave Sakura a thumb’s up sign as the instantaneously group dispersed.
Finding herself alone with Syaoran, Sakura took a deep breath and said, “Can I go pick up my luggage at your place tonight?”
“Sure,” Syaoran said. “Or I could bring them to school for you if that’s easier.”
“N-no, I left things scattered about. I’ll pack them and take them now,” said Sakura.
The two took the bus back to Syaoran’s apartment in relative silence. It was rush hour and crowded, but they managed to get back seats side by side.
“Wake up,” whispered Sakura, shaking Syaoran’s shoulder. “It’s our stop.”
“I didn’t realize I dozed off,” said Syaoran. “Thank goodness you were there—I might have ended up in the next town over if you didn’t wake me.” The two got off the nearest bus stop to Syaoran’s apartment.
One of the walks Sakura enjoyed most was the path leading up to Syaoran’s apartment—it was one she had grown accustomed to, walking by Syaoran’s side back home after school two summers ago, sometimes sprinting down this very lane when they were late, teaching Syaoran to rollerblade.
She spun around and swallowed hard. “Hey, Syaoran, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”
“Yes?” Syaoran stopped and stared at Sakura in a white tennis skirt paired with a mauve blouse.
“It’s something I’ve been thinking hard about, for a very long time,” said Sakura. “Perhaps my answer comes too late, but it’s something I believe I need to tell you.”
He stared at her quizzically.
Sakura felt her throat clenching up, and her voice failing her as she wanted to continue on to her next sentence. She took off her white beret and clutched it to her chest. “I—I—” Slowly, she felt her cheek flushing red and heat creep up to her ears.
“Are you all right?” Syaoran said. “You look a bit flushed.”
“I’m fine. I wanted to say—” But Sakura was cut off as a gleaming black vehicle screeched by the sidewalk.
Wei stepped out of the black Mercedes. “Syaoran-sama, we have to go now. The corporate spy has been caught trying to escape by boat.”
Syaoran frowned. “Kitagawa has been caught? Where?”
“Yokohama Port,” replied Wei. “We have to head there right away. The Black Dragon has received council orders to eliminate him.”
“Eliminate him?” squeaked Sakura.
Syaoran turned to Sakura. “Sorry, Sakura, we’ll continue our conversation later.”
“I’m coming with you,” said Sakura. “It might be a dark force.”
“No,” he said. “It’s family business.” But Sakura already was climbing into the car, and to his dismay, he found his two sisters were already inside.
“Oh, Sakura-chan, you’re coming along too?” asked Shiefa. “Have you ever been to Yokohama?”
“I’ve always wanted to see Yokohama Port. I heard Li Shulin-sama arrived at that port from Shanghai when she first arrived by boat to Japan,” said Fuutie.
With a sigh, Syaoran climbed in the front seat as Wei started up the engine. “All of you have to stay in the car,” he said. His sisters and Sakura nodded, but Syaoran was not convinced at all.
“What are you doing here?” asked his cousin Li Dairen, as Syaoran stepped out of the car.
“Leiyun told me,” said Syaoran, in the black and gold robes of the Great Elder, followed by his sisters. He wasn’t surprised to find Meilin was already there, since she had been out for dinner in Tokyo. It meant that somewhere in the distance, Kai was lurking about as well.
“We caught the Tang Clan spy,” said Leiyun, stepping out from an alley. “Kitagawa was trying to escape by boat at Yokohama Port.”
Sakura watched from inside the car and registered that the Black Dragon stood on the dimly lit port, pressing a pistol to a man’s forehead.
The small, mousy middle-aged man, who Sakura recognized from the Li Group board meeting on Sunday, was kneeling on the ground, wrists tied up with a rope. He perspired hard as he stammered, “Please, don’t kill me. I was only following orders.”
Realizing the gun was loaded, Fuutie called out, “Stop, Jinyu!”
“I am following the Elders’ command,” said Jinyu. “This man knows too much. I was ordered to eliminate him.”
“There must be another way,” said Fuutie. “You don’t have to kill him. Erase his memory or something.”
“Erasing memory is not foolproof,” said Dairen, who had been the first to track down Kitagawa. “It can either fry his brain completely, or if not done properly, the memory can return at some point.”
“Let us hear what the man has to say first,” said Syaoran.
Kitagawa, knelt down, clutching the tip of Syaoran’s robes with his fingertips, wrists still bound in front of him. “D-don’t kill me—I have a wife and daughter—she’s only in elementary school. Who will support them if am not around?”
“Who ordered you to spy on the Li Group?” asked Syaoran.
“I don’t know. I never met him. I only communicated through phone, and the caller always masked his phone calls. But I do know he was based in Hong Kong,” said Kitagawa. “I swear, that’s all I know. And I didn’t steal much—not anything they didn’t already have. That’s why I think they are trying to eliminate me!”
“If you have loved ones, people you do not want to leave behind, why engage in something so dangerous?” Fuutie said quietly.
“I didn’t know what I was getting into!” exclaimed Kitagawa. “At first, I was just told to report back what I heard in board meetings—and it’s not like I knew a lot. I got paid well, and it didn’t seem like such a big deal. And there was all that chaos after the yakuza attacked the Li Group Japan headquarters, so it was easier to get access to files and documents.”
“But there are trillions of gigabytes of data and email servers that you hacked into,” said Leiyun.
“What?” The man’s eyes bulged. “That wasn’t me! I swear! I don’t have the skills to hack into such a tight firewall as the Li Group server.”
Syaoran frowned. “I believe he’s telling the truth.”
“We will still have to wipe his memories,” said Leiyun. “Kitagawa, you’ve been acting as an undercover agent for since you entered the board of trustees of Li Group Japan in April of last year until June this year. You do not deny you joined the Li Group with the intention of spying for the Tang Corp.”
“No!” exclaimed Kitagawa. “I’ve got nothing to do with the Tang Corp! Do not take my memories from me! That is no different from a death sentence. I love my wife and daughter. They are what I live for. My wife, she’s been very ill. That’s why I needed the money, to pay for her hospital fees. She’s been doing better, but she will be an invalid for all her life, and I need to support her and my daughter.”
Dairen told him shortly, “That doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change what you have done.”
“Can’t we verify his story?” asked Shiefa.
Kara spoke up. “I confirmed with Jingmei that Mrs. Kitagawa has been an inpatient at the Kinhoshi Hospital for the past two years.”
“We can’t just release him with the knowledge he has,” said Dairen. “Why were you running away?”
“Because I was tipped off that mafia was out to get me,” said Kitagawa. “I was told to lay low in Okinawa.”
“Weren’t you trying to escape to Hong Kong with confidential material?” demanded Dairen.
“No! You’ve seen for yourself, I have nothing in my bags. Please let me live. I promise I won’t repeat anything about the Li Group elsewhere,” stammered Kitagawa. “I will live quietly and never get involved with the Li Group or any of its rival groups again! I will move away from Tokyo with my family.”
“We can’t trust him,” interjected Dairen. “We have to follow through with the Elders’ orders—to eliminate the corporate spy. Jinyu, what are you waiting for?”
“You don’t have to listen to him,” said Kitagawa. “You’re the Black Dragon—aren’t they the family that abandoned your mother?”
“What nonsense are you spouting, Kitagawa,” said Dairen. “Jinyu, shoot.”
But Jinyu did not draw his pistol. “I will do as I am ordered by the Great Elder.”
Leiyun turned to Syaoran. “As the Black Dragon says, it is your call, Great Elder Li Syaoran.”
What an awful decision Syaoran had to make, to choose the fate of a man who likely committed a horrible mistake but had a family to support. Sakura, who had quietly stepped out of the car and watched by Syaoran’s sisters’ side in the shadows, murmured, “This is my fault. If I only didn’t use the Libra Card and point out that he was the corporate spy that day at the board meeting.”
“Dairen knew who the spy was anyway—he’s sharp out of business acumen alone and without the aid of his magic,” said Shiefa softly. “He was biding his time to gather enough evidence to support his suspicions, which you did.”
“There is no way around this, Syaoran—the other option will be erasing all his memories,” said Dairen.
Fuutie said, “Do we have to wipe his memories? Why can’t we make him promise not to repeat anything he learned elsewhere?”
Sakura stepped toward Syaoran, grabbing his arm. “He gave his word. It’s not fair to wipe someone’s memory from them unless it is absolutely necessary.”
“I will erase your memory of the past year that you worked for the Li Group,” said Syaoran to Kitagawa.
“But my daughter’s ballet recital, my wife’s successful surgery, and our first trip to the aquarium after her recovery,” whispered Kitagawa. “Will I have to forget that all?”
“That is the best I can do,” replied Syaoran slowly.
“One year—that’s not enough,” said Dairen. “If you are going to swipe his memory, you’re going to have to erase everything, all the triggers, so that he doesn’t even remember his name or what the Li Group is. He’s had access to all sorts of confidential Li Group contracts with the triads and may have even passed on our coded messages to the Tang Clan.”
“No, don’t take all my memories!” exclaimed Kitagawa, pupils dilated. “That is no better than being dead.”
“You will forget the past year,” said Syaoran. “But you won’t forget your wife and daughter’s faces, your name, your past—you will remember up to the point before you joined the Li Group.”
“The Council of Elders would not approve of this,” interjected Dairen. “It was Uncle Wutai’s specific orders to eliminate the spy.”
Syaoran replied, “I am the Great Elder. My word can overrule the orders of the Elders.” He knelt in front of the man and help up a ward paper and chanted runes quietly. And Kitagawa rolled over, unconscious. “Leiyun, bring him back to the hospital. He will remember he got into a minor accident and is suffering from retrograde amnesia. Jinyu, check his house, mobile phone and computers for any files related to the Li Group and makes sure they are all deleted. Shiefa, can you run a check on the state of the new firewalls on the Li Group Japan servers to see if it was compromised?”
“Considering he is the boss of the Hong Kong triads, Jinyu is surprisingly a pacifist,” remarked Erika, who had watched on silently.
Shiefa murmured, “Even so, Jinyu’s got blood on his hands.”
“He’s your family,” said Erika.
“He’s only distantly related, though Leiyun virtually adopted him into the main family,” replied Shiefa.
“Are the rumors that Jinyu was a bastard child true?” Erika couldn’t help asking out of curiosity.
Sakura glanced up at Syaoran’s older sister, shocked at Erika’s brazen question, and Shiefa replied, “You’ve heard? Jinyu’s mother was a Li. When she was 17, she fell in love with a Hong Kong triad member and got pregnant. The Li Clan disowned her in disgrace. Nothing was heard of her for years, nor her child. But it was said that the man she ran off with left her, and later got in trouble with the law and died in jail. She supposedly raised Jinyu by herself until she passed away. I don’t know how, but Leiyun got wind of the situation. He always had an uncanny sense in that way. The Elders were not interested in taking back Jinyu, however Leiyun went and found him. He doesn’t speak much of the situation that he found Jinyu in—but he was malnourished and living in the Kowloon slums by himself. He was only around eight years old then, I believe. ”
Erika took a breath in. “How did his mother die?”
“It’s not clear. Some say that she died of disease or drug overdose,” replied Shiefa. “Some say she was brutally murdered by a triad member, in front of Jinyu. But Jinyu never speaks of his past, and we do not ask.”
“So, he went to the Li Clan only after his mother’s death?” asked Erika, thinking Jinyu was lucky that he had a family to go back to.
Shiefa nodded. “Yes, Leiyun, who was in junior high school then, brought Jinyu back to the Main House and looked after him, though Uncle Wutai was none too thrilled about the idea. Jinyu back then didn’t talk, or smile or respond to anything. His eyes were just dead. The adults found him creepy, and nobody wanted to take him in, not even his closest kin. It wasn’t just the adults—the older cousins gave Jinyu a hard time as well, for being an outsider, for being the son of an outcast and a criminal. Of course, it was behind Leiyun’s back, because Lei even back then was influential. Leiyun told Jinyu the only way to survive in the Li Clan was to become powerful. Since Jinyu didn’t have any magical powers, all he could do was train in martial arts. And he trained hard, beside Leiyun. At first, Leiyun taught Jin himself—but unexpectedly, the Great Elder took interest in Jinyu’s potential. Soon enough, Jinyu became Leiyun’s quiet shadow—he still rarely spoke, but always followed Leiyun around and trained with him, though he did not mingle much with the other Lis in his age group. He didn’t go to school but instead had private tutors.”
Fuutie said, “Back then, we didn’t know that Jinyu was being groomed to become the Clan Protector—we thought he didn’t go to school with us because he was socially awkward. Nobody paid much attention to him until he suddenly emerged as the head of the Hong Kong triads two years ago.”
“That’s around the time Leiyun returned from the Dragon Isles?” remarked Erika.
“I guess. Leiyun must trust the Black Dragon most, because Jin is the first person he sought when he came back from the dead,” replied Fuutie.
“I always figured Jinyu was just another one of Leiyun’s lost lambs, but I think they have a much stronger bond that we ever suspected,” remarked Shiefa.
“Why do you think Leiyun went and found Jinyu in the Kowloon slums when no one else did?” Erika remarked.
“Leiyun’s always been like that,” replied Shiefa. “It’s his nature to go out and gather in the lost sheep and take them under his wings. He did that with Syaoran when he lost his father and lacked a male figure in his life. Lei was always surrounded by people but never a part of the group.”
Fuutie nodded. “Truthfully, I’m not sure how accepting I was of Jinyu back then. He was the outsider, and there was a permanent gloom about him. I think recently, it’s the first time I learned Jin speak—we used to think he was a mute when he was a kid. And eventually Zino took Jinyu under his wing because of Leiyun’s request.”
“The Golden Dragon and Leiyun were friends?” asked Erika.
“Yeah, the two were pretty close, though their personalities were completely opposite from each other,” replied Fuutie.
Syaoran called out, “Meilin, can you come with me back to the Main House. We need to report back to the Elders on the situation. Fuutie, please update Mother as well and come up with a contingency plan just in case Kitagawa had an accomplice. Kai, can you give Sakura a ride home?”
Sakura turned to Syaoran. “Why? Why did you have to erase his memories? He was telling the truth. He would not have spied on the Li Clan again. I know because I was using the Libra, and he was not lying.”
“You won’t always be around, to verify for me if someone is telling the truth or not. I cannot rely on you when I am making decisions for the Li Clan,” said Syaoran quietly.
Sakura’s lower lips trembled and she turned away, unable to face Syaoran.
Fuutie told her brother softly, “Don’t kick yourself over having to erase that man’s memory. The Black Dragon would have killed him if you did not intervene. You saved his life.”
As the Lis dispersed, Kai finally appeared on the dock, by Sakura’s side.
“He’s changing, and there’s nothing I can do about it,” murmured Sakura, watching the Mercedes drive off. “The Syaoran I knew was more considerate, caring than anyone else. Yet, there’s also a part of him that’s cold and calculating, just like Leiyun-san.”
“When I was a thief, when I was forced to act on the spot, at the end of the day, it’s gut instinct that takes precedent over any magic or even logical reasoning,” said Kai. “Syaoran cannot simply let someone off because you asked him to because his position has changed now. He’s not just the Chosen One anymore. He’s the Great Elder of the Li Clan. He is making decisions on behalf of the whole clan, the old and the young, the wise and the foolish, the wicked and the compassionate. He cannot afford to make a mistake, because what can be an act of empathy on his part can have unmanageable repercussions on the entire clan. As the Great Elder, he has to prioritize what is most beneficial to the Li Clan, his family. Li Dairen was testing Syaoran today.”
“I know that!” exclaimed Sakura, eyes tearing up. “I know why he had to make that choice, and that it hurt him. And I hate myself for making it more difficult for him. But it’s so horrible, thinking you can’t trust people because of being in that position.”
“As an extremely dishonest person myself,” said Kai, “I think Syaoran was right to not trust that man.”
“But the Libra showed he was speaking the truth.”
“The Libra tells you who is speaking the truth at that moment,” replied Kai. “There is no saying that people won’t change. When a man tells you he loves you, it may not be a lie at that moment. But when he cheats on you years later, who is to blame? He may very well have loved you at that moment he said those words. But the heart can change. In this case, that man is a crook—he may love his family, but he is a crook all the same who can be bought with money. He chose money over family, at the end of the day. He was not someone who was forced to spy on the Li Clan. He already was someone with enough financial assets to become a board member of his own merit. True, he had medical bills to pay. Or maybe he was greedy.”
“You mean, the Libra may not always be accurate?” asked Sakura.
“Truth can be relative,” said Kai, as a ship horn echoed throughout Yokohama harbor.
“There is only one truth!” exclaimed Sakura.
“But my truth may not be your truth,” Kai pointed out. “Who killed Chang Risa? Ruichi-sama believed it was Amamiya Hayashi-sama for betraying his pregnant wife. Li Shulin-sama believed it to be herself for making that one last confession to Amamiya Hayashi, who was already married to Risa. Mayura-sama believed they all failed her because they were unable to stop the dark force that took control of Risa-sama’s heart and fill it with despair.”
Sakura murmured, “Risa-sama had lost everything and believed she had no reason to live on.”
“But we never did find out for what purpose Chang Risa chose to take her own life,” said Kai. “For vengeance? Out of grief? What made her change from the woman who sacrificed her vision for Amamiya Hayashi, who loved him with all her heart, to one-half of the Dark Ones that we know of today. And where did Hayashi-sama stand in all of this? Who did he truly love, and was Chang Risa’s death preventable because he had the Sight? Did he know the downfall of the Great Five was inevitable? Here in the 21st century, we are circling around the same question of who was to blame for the death of Risa, which triggered Chang Ruichi to turn to the dark side and become an abomination to humankind. Who truly is to blame for the curse the Dark Ones set on the descendants of the Great Five, or were they all to blame? And how can this vicious cycle of vengeance and destruction be resolved for once and for all?”
Such thoughts had run through Sakura’s mind before. Yet, no one had ever expressed them so succinctly before, and it was Mizuki Kai out of all people addressing the matters of the Dark Ones so directly. He spoke as someone who had dwelled on the issue for a long time. And he had. He had been working on answering this riddle long before she had even heard of the Great Five or the Dark Ones. For he had the opportunity to speak with Mizuki Mayura and hear her version of the truth.
And for the first time, she felt resentful that only Amamiya Hayashi had left absolutely no link, no message, for his descendent.
******
Wednesday…
“Syaoran. Li Syaoran. The answer to the question on page 63, please,” called out their mathematics teacher the next day at school.
Syaoran did not respond, as he stared blankly at his textbook.
Sakura nudged him gently. “Syaoran. You’re being called up to the blackboard.”
And Syaoran bolted up. It was uncharacteristic of Syaoran to space out in class, especially during his favorite subject. Sakura watched Syaoran walk up to the blackboard and write out the answer to a different problem, nonetheless accurately. The teacher didn’t even bother to correct him because Syaoran, his favorite student, seemed so out of it.
As soon as the bell struck for lunch break, Sakura grabbed Syaoran by the hand and dragged him along up the stairwell toward the roof deck.
“Where are we going?” he protested halfheartedly.
“Somewhere quiet.” She pushed him through the door, and they were greeted by the strong noon sunlight overhead. They went to the other side of the roof, to take shelter under the shadow, and Sakura heard Syaoran sigh in relief audibly as they sat down, leaning against the wall.
“Yeah, you’re right, my sisters won’t think to come up all the way here,” said Syaoran, shutting his eyes. The music room was no longer a sanctuary, not since Leiyun became the substitute music teacher, and Shiefa and Fuutie frequently came bursting into the classroom even in the middle of the school day. “You’re not angry at me?”
Sakura said softly, “I am. But I understand you did what you could to save Kitagawa-san.”
“Sometimes, that’s not good enough,” murmured Syaoran. “I don’t want you to ever feel disappointed in me again.”
“I’ve never felt disappointed in you, and don’t ever plan to be,” said Sakura, meeting him straight in the eye.
“I don’t plan to,” said Syaoran. “Disappoint you.”
She smiled at him, for he looked like a morose puppy with his tail between his legs.
He said, looking a bit more cheery, “Meilin left the luggage you left at your house in your locker. She packed it by the way—not me!”
“Yeah, I got it,” said Sakura, peeved that she no longer had an excuse to drop by his apartment anymore. “You’re still not getting much sleep even though the board meeting is over?” she asked, handing Syaoran a peanut butter and honey sandwich cut in a triangle that she had packed that morning. “It’s because you have more work to do because you are here in Japan instead of back in Hong Kong, isn’t it?”
He munched on the sandwich. “Truthfully, I have to deal with less clan business because I am here. If was back in Hong Kong, I would not have a moment of peace from the moment I wake up to bedtime. Here, because I am in Japan, Wei filters only the most important tasks for me. And because the Li Group Japan board meeting went well and my sisters also have been helping out here, the workload is definitely better now, despite emergencies like last night arising.”
It was as she suspected. His sleep issues were not getting any better. Sakura said softly, “If it helps, tell me more about what happened back in the Dragon Isles.”
“Have you ever thought multiple versions of yourself might exist in different dimensions from here?” Syaoran, eyes closed as the wind blew across his russet bangs, said quietly, “As I traveled through the Cavern of Reservoirs, for what seemed like eternity, there was a me that had lost all my memories, my soul. I had become a heartless killing machine. I was covered in blood, other people’s blood, and I couldn’t wash it off. It was terrifying. I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't escape.”
“Oh Syaoran. That wasn't you. It was only a dream, just a nightmare,” said Sakura, setting aside the lunch box.
“But what does that say about me if you take away my memories and my soul, all that is left is just an empty shell, a living weapon, with no moral compass, no guidance?”
Sakura told him, “That’s not real. That is not you. I know better than anyone, you are not like that. You are the most just, fair person I know.”
He almost smiled at her earnestness. “You don’t remember how I treated you when we first met?”
“But you still gave me a chance,” she murmured. “You looked out for me, aided me, guided me, even though you didn’t have to.”
“No, you’re the one who gave me a chance, despite how awfully I treated you back then,” murmured Syaoran. “Did I ever apologize for that? I’m sorry I called you incompetent. I’m sorry all the times I tried to snatch away a Clow Card from you. I’m sorry for stealing the Sakura Cards. I’m sorry for all the times I left you.”
“Syaoran, you know all that doesn’t matter anymore,” said Sakura, looking at Syaoran’s profile cast in a shadow, his amber eyes staring out at the clear blue sky above them.
“I wanted to say it now, while I remember. Recently, there have been times when I just black out,” he said. “It's like my mind has been away from my body, and I don't remember what has happened. I worry that something in me got broken while I was in the Cavern of Reservoirs. That’s happened you know. People have snapped in Limbo. Great Elder candidates came back and were never the same again because they got so messed up deeply in there.”
Sakura sighed. “Syaoran, can't you tell you're just suffering from acute sleep deprivation?”
“That time when the fire happened during the Cinderella rehearsal,” said Syaoran slowly. “I think I might have caused the fire.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I was praying for the awful rehearsal to end, whatever it takes,” said Syaoran.
Sakura recalled how much she had botched practice and how Syaoran had intervened to save her from Leiyun's wrath. “If that's the case, I wanted the rehearsal to end even more than you.”
“Even that second time that the fire occurred in the woods behind King Penguin Park, remember? I just wanted my sisters to leave because they were being such a pain,” said Syaoran.
She had to hold back a chuckle at this. He had looked utterly distraught because of them. “Syaoran, I think we all were feeling a tad bit annoyed at your sisters at that time, so by your logic, it could have been any one of us that caused the fire then.’
He shook his head. “Ever since I regained my power of the moon, I felt a bit uneasy. Like I don't know how to properly control my powers anymore,” he said. “I’ve never had trouble controlling my powers before, never felt so overwhelmed.”
“That's natural because not only are you acclimating to having your powers again, but you've also received the power of the dragon and underwent the rite of becoming the Great Elder,” said Sakura. “You are more powerful than you have ever been before, I believe.”
“It's terrifying,” whispered Syaoran. “I don't know if I am capable of controlling my powers. I feel like it can leak out or if I don't be careful, I can create more damage than good.”
“Syaoran, you have greater mental control than anyone that I know,” said Sakura. “You are the one who wouldn't strike me even when Eriol-kun tried to bind you with threads and control your body. You're the one that the Memory didn’t work on. You broke free from Limbo inside the Cavern of Reservoirs. I know better than anyone else how strong your will is. So, you have nothing to worry about.”
At this, Syaoran smiled slightly. “Sakura, do promise me. If I ever lose control of myself, I know you will be able to put me in place.”
“Of course,” said Sakura, kneeling forward. She clasped his cheeks with her two hands and stared at him straight-on so he knew she was dead serious. “I promise. But please get examined by Dr. Li Jingmei first and see if you can’t treat your sleep deprivation before it takes a serious toll on your health.”
He reached out and clasped his hand over hers, leaning his cheek against it. It had occurred to him over the weekend, as Sakura stayed over as his manager. He wondered why he couldn’t read her mind anymore. There was no reason why they shouldn’t have a mind-to-mind link anymore since his powers were back. Which meant that she was deliberately shutting him out.
“W-what are you doing?” asked Sakura, the back of her hand tingling, feeling heat creep up her neck. The sleep-deprived Syaoran surely was spontaneous and toxic for her sanity.
He glanced up at her through his thick brown lashes, pushing her to an arms length away, clasping each of her hands with his two hands, so that she couldn’t budge. “Just this distance,” he murmured. “While I was stuck in Limbo, there was a me that was stuck in a cylindrical glass capsule. And there was a you that was also in the capsule, just an arm’s length away. But I couldn’t touch you because we were separated by a barrier.”
Gently, he spread out her fingers with his and placed his palm against hers, so that they were kneeling on the concrete floor of the roof, facing each other palm-to-palm. Her skin tingled from the startling intimacy of the touch, the heat of his hands on hers.
“It was the most excruciating torture. You were right there, but I could not reach you, touch you, be with you,” he said lowly.
Sakura stared into that empty void flit across Syaoran’s amber eyes every so often, ever since he returned from the Dragon Isles, and she said, “Silly, if that were us, we would find a way to break down that barrier, don’t you think?”
And he smiled gently, the corner of his eyes crinkling in that endearing way, though very few people would know of, his fingers lacing around hers, giving her hands a tight squeeze, sending an electric tingle down her fingertips. “You’re right, Sakura. Why didn’t I realize that then?”
As if soothed by her words, he shut his eyes and collapsed against her shoulder. She could hear by his soft breath that he was asleep. His grasp on her hands loosened but as she tried to pull them out, they tightened again. And she didn’t want to wake him, so she did not move though pins and needles crept up her leg. The school bell rang as lunch came to an end, but he did not stir. Perhaps they would have to skip the rest of afternoon classes as well. So much for confessing.
******
Tomoyo did not have to check to see if Leiyun was in the music room because she could hear the sweet, low sound of cello drifting from inside. Since Leiyun seemed to be the type to only play intricate classics and fancy concert pieces, she was surprised to hear a common folk hymn, a bare, stripped down performance. She stood outside the door, eyes shut. How simple and tender the sound was, a performance for himself, not for the judges, not for a crowd. Even when he accompanied them on the creaky old piano during music class, his playing would overpower their voices, for that was the kind of musician he was—someone who sought attention, someone who was meant to be the soloist, not the accompaniment.
He halted mid-note, looking up at the door.
“Amazing Grace doesn’t seem to align with your usual repertoire. I thought you only played classical pieces,” remarked Tomoyo, wishing he hadn’t stopped.
“True. But it’s the solo piece that you sang for your Regional High School Choir Competition,” he murmured, setting aside his cello and standing up.
“How did you know that?” Tomoyo asked, glancing up at Leiyun. “I performed that last Christmas, before you became a teacher at this school.”
“Did you forget the choir regionals were held at Eitoukou Academy?” asked Leiyun with a lazy grin. “I was at school to meet with Syaoran’s homeroom teacher, and was walking down the hallway when I thought I heard the voice of an angel singing out loud a song I had not heard since childhood. I followed that voice to the auditorium, and I found you singing like a pretty little canary on stage. And I was determined to make my songbird sing for even a wretch like me.”
His words were mocking, yet his icy blue eyes seemed dead serious, and Tomoyo bit her tongue to keep from telling him she did not belong to him and had no plans to ever sing for him. He walked up closer to her. “I guess you prefer this humble hymn to the frills and trills of my flawless Paganini performance?”
She did, but she only said, “It was a beautiful rendition of the song. I’ve never heard the piece played on the cello.”
“I can’t take credit for this rendition,” said Leiyun. “It’s based on a violin rendition played by Uncle Ryuuren that he played for me years ago. All I did was transcribe it for cello.”
Tomoyo, amused by his belated modesty, remarked, “You must have heard him play it some decade and a half ago then. If you transcribed it from memory for a different instrument, you realize you must have made it your own rendition.”
Leiyun said, “You haven’t heard the original version played by Uncle Ryuu. His sound somehow touches the soul, fills you with yearning and a sense of despair. Mine is just an empty echo of that sound.”
And Tomoyo stared up at him quizzically. “You really did admire Syaoran’s father.”
“Much more than my own,” replied Leiyun in a softer tone, scooping up Byakko, who was clawing at the lace trimmings of Tomoyo’s knee-socks. “Uncle Ryuuren was a noble man, a true warrior. I wanted to be just like him. Not just me. Any of my cousins, we all looked up to the Chosen One. He never spent a lot of time back home, always traveling, on some mission. But when he was back, he would gather us together and teach us sword-fighting techniques or nifty ward spells. We were lucky, the older cousins, because we can remember him as the Chosen One. Syaoran never got that.”
“Is that why you taught Syaoran the violin?” she found herself asking. “To give him a part of his father?”
“I guess it was a good chance for him to share some sort of bond with the father he never knew,” he replied. “But I just thought he needed a break from all the physical training. Music is meditative. Music also helps with understanding the intricacies of magic theory though some do not see the link.”
“So, music was a form of healing,” remarked Tomoyo.
“Yes, I believe music can heal the wounded soul better than empty words or promises,” replied Leiyun as he set Byakko on the closed piano lid. The cat playfully knocked off music sheets and blinked up at his owner innocently with large silvery-blue pupils. “But music can also be a curse.”
Tomoyo wanted to ask what he meant, but was interrupted by footsteps behind her.
“Amazing Grace on cello,” remarked a deep voice from the doorway. “I’ve never heard that sort of rendition before.”
Tomoyo spun around, wondering since when Eriol had been standing there. “Eriol-kun! I forgot, I promised we’ll run through edits to Act 5 during lunch, but break’s nearly over.” She had only meant to drop by her latest script notes to Leiyun but had gotten sidetracked.
“I remember you practiced that song diligently ahead of regionals,” said Eriol. “It was my favorite of your solo selections.”
“You helped me a lot by accompanying on the piano,” said Tomoyo. “Unfortunately, I came in second place despite all your efforts.”
Eriol smiled. “It was my pleasure to be of some assistance, as always.”
“Tomoyo, I rearranged the score for the ballroom scene and would like your opinion of whether it works. Do you want to listen to it right now?” interjected Leiyun.
“Sorry I promised Eriol-kun we’d go over the script edits,” said Tomoyo. “Can I listen to it later?”
“It’ll only take a few minutes, and we are already in the music room,” said Leiyun.
Eriol stated, “I believe Tomoyo-san said she’d listen later during rehearsal.”
Finding the room unbearably stuffy all of a sudden, Tomoyo declared, “I forgot, I need to find Sakura-chan—I do hope I didn’t miss filming a confession!” And she turned 180 degrees and bolted out of the music room, leaving the two menaces together.
******
With the cultural festival just three days away, lines were memorized, sets freshly painted, and Sakura’s class was busy with final fitting for costumes after school. Slouched on the steps, Mizuki Kai watched two students awkwardly wrestle with a prop throne, one senior nailing his sleeve to the wooden plank while the structure tilted heavily to one side.
Exasperated, Kai shoved aside the senior boy, taking away the saw. “If you cut the board this unevenly, of course the chair will be unbalanced, unless you’re going for the Leaning Tower of Pisa! Basic geometry! Here, measure out the boards first and get the proportions right.” Kai rapidly sawed away at the wooden plank, balancing it with one foot, then sanded the board expertly. “Now, when you nail the planks, secure the nail in place before you hammer it—goodness don’t you learn anything useful in school? Here, get the backboard up so I can fit in the armrests!” Kai nailed down the boards swiftly and firmly with a hammer.
Naoko blinked. “Who would have thought Kai-kun has such a practical side to him—he looks like he wouldn’t be able to nail a frame to the wall.”
“Practical? Him?” snorted Meilin, watching Kai, suddenly inspired, carve away at the back of the throne with a chisel and mallet an intricate rising dragon design from scratch, without even a sketch. Wood chips flew out everywhere, leaving behind a mess backstage. Art class students gathered around the young Michelangelo in awe—but as he was when he was concentrating, he paid no heed to anyone else.
“I wonder if Mother and Father will make it to our cultural festival,” remarked Miho, watching her brother carve out a dragon throne out of a block of wood which seemed more befitting a Chinese emperor than a medieval prince. In their childhood, her brother had often copied their father’s artwork, patiently sketching and replicating his works. A little known fact about her brother, who many people had called a child genius, was that he actually had photographic memory, which had often served to his advantage. That was how he picked up coding—because he used to sit down with down with senior programmers and dissect codes with them. “Mother was bugging me for weeks on how it was coming along.”
Stepping back to observe his half-completed handiwork, Kai remarked, “They’re in Paris right now to launch Father’s new exhibition—I doubt they’ll make it back in time.”
“They’ll be bummed to miss out on the Cinderella play,” said Miho.
Tomoyo remarked, “Shing-san’s new exhibition’s been getting rave reviews, I heard.”
“Your father is the great artist Shing?” asked Shiefa, who had dropped by with Fuutie to see Leiyun.
Miho nodded.
“I guess that explains,” said Shiefa, staring at the magnificent Qing dynasty-inspired dragon throne that Kai had chiseled away at.
Fuutie turned to Miho. “Did you know Shing-sensei was commissioned as the official portrait painter for the 77th Great Elder? I met him briefly—he’s quite eccentric.”
“No, I didn’t hear of this!” exclaimed Miho. “I remember Mother was fuming back in April because Father disappeared in the middle of tour.”
“Yeah, after Syaoran was inaugurated as the Great Elder, he had to sit for an official portrait,” said Shiefa. “Boy did he grumble and complain the whole time.”
“In the end, he only sat for half a day and refused to dress up in the magnificent, ornate Great Elder ceremonial robes,” said Fuutie. “Luckily Shing-sensei said he was familiar with Syaoran’s anatomy and could just go off of memory—and imagination.”
“Our father was completely inspired by the Great Elder inauguration—he likes opulence and shiny decorations,” said Kai dryly, ignoring Meilin snicker at the irony of the former thief’s remarks.
“Isn’t it a bit brazen to get Shing-sensei to paint a portrait for the Li Clan? After what you put him through?” Eron asked Syaoran’s sisters.
“What do you mean?” asked Shiefa.
“Father was the one who volunteered in the first place,” interjected Kai. “When he heard from Miho about Syaoran’s inauguration ceremony, he dropped everything and flew from Milan straight to Hong Kong though he was in the middle of press conferences.”
“Shing-sensei got to attend the Great Elder inauguration ceremony?” exclaimed Tomoyo. “I’m so jealous.”
“Yeah, we were surprised that someone as renowned and busy as Shing-san volunteered to do the new Great Elder’s official portrait, but he was the best of the best, so of course we couldn’t reject the offer. He said he was Father’s friend,” said Fuutie. “I always did think his ‘Angel and Warrior’ series resembled our father too greatly to be coincidence.”
Shiefa added, “Do you think it would be rude to ask when we can expect to receive the portrait though? We would need it in time for Syaoran’s birthday celebration.”
“My dad is so absentminded and procrastinates horribly,” declared Miho. “You’ll be lucky if you see a portrait in a decade or so.”
“Kai-kun,” interjected the senior set designer. “Aren’t you going to finish the other half of the throne? We can’t just leave it like this.”
“Meh, you guys complete it. I’m hungry,” said Kai with a careless shrug, tossing his tools.
“B-but we can’t replicate that!” exclaimed the senior pointing at the intricate dragon pattern covering half of the throne.
Naoko sighed. “Just angle the throne so that the right side faces the audience—nobody will see the other half anyway.”
They were all distracted by the oohs and ahhs of the senior girls as Eron came out dressed in a magnificent powder blue ball gown and didn’t even look embarrassed as everybody fawned over him.
“There is something so picturesque about having two long-haired bishounen standing together,” remarked Tomoyo with a sigh, holding her camera, as Eron posed beside Jinyu for a promotional photo shoot to advertise their play.
“Oh, he looks like Erika-chan!” squealed Sakura, clasping her hands together.
Eron shrugged. “Excuse me, but with makeup on, I am much prettier than Erika.”
Not even offended, Erika said, “Well, people used to think we were two twin girls when we were little. And Eron was the prettier twin. He had naturally long lashes and nice straight hair.”
“And Syaoran threw such a fuss about it when he had to dress up as Princess Aurora in fifth grade,” said Meilin, shaking her head. “Eron is surprisingly a good sport about it.”
Kai shrugged, “I guess I would be too, if I looked that good in a skirt.”
“Eron-kun is prettier than any girl as Cinderella. The problem is, we have the gloomiest prince in the kingdom,” remarked Naoko with a sigh, glancing over at Li Jinyu emitting a dark aura as her classmates cowered at the mere thought of trying to coax him to at least try on the prince’s ballroom costume.
Tomoyo realized her tablet memory was full as she tried to upload the photos, and flipped back to her older footage to delete files.
“What is that?” remarked Meilin, leaning over Tomoyo’s shoulder. “Wow, I’ve never seen you film anyone other than Sakura-senpai or related to her in some way,”
Sakura drew close enough to Tomoyo to see on her tablet screen a clip of a silver-haired man playing cello. It was Leiyun, his long fingers shifting down the neck of the cello, his bow gliding back and forth in long strokes, a gentle smile on his lips. When had Tomoyo filmed that performance and why? According to Tomoyo, she filmed what she felt was inspirational to her. Which Sakura had to admit was flattering. Until the focus of her attention was that despicable man.
“Do send me a copy of the video, Tomoyo—my cousins will have a fit when they see Leiyun cosplaying as a teacher in a Japanese high school,” said Fuutie.
Leiyun’s cello performance has catapulted him into an instant star across the school. He had always been popular because he was the handsome new school doctor from abroad, but now, he was the handsome school doctor who played the cello sensually. Students flocked to him in the auditorium during Cinderella rehearsals, causing a disturbance with their chattering.
“Li-sensei! How many years have you played the cello?” asked one senior.
“Li-sensei, you’re as good as a pro!” exclaimed Chiharu. “Have you taken part in national competitions?”
Leiyun cleared his throat, almost looking embarrassed by the attention, and said, “We need to start orchestra practice—everyone not in the orchestra, please go on and do your thing.”
They ignored him and the flutist raised her hand and asked, “Li-sensei, can’t you play for us again?”
“Maybe if you get through this practice without a glitch!” called out Leiyun. “Now, from the top, orchestra.”
Syaoran frowned as he tightened the strings of his violin.
“What’s wrong?” asked Sakura.
“While I was napping on the rooftop, I had a nightmare that we were redoing Star-Crossed. I was forced to play Juliet,” he replied with a shudder. “And you were Romeo.”
Sakura giggled at the mere thought of it. “We’re just in the orchestra this time. No worries.”
“It’s a pity we are not turning this into a musical,” remarked Rika as she listened to the orchestra practice. “The original music score for this play is amazing.”
“I know, I love the ballroom waltz especially,” said Tomoyo.
Eriol told her wryly, “That particular piece was composed by Li-sensei.”
“Really?” Tomoyo looked up to see Leiyun shifting through music sheets.
Rika said, “Well, it would have been impossible for Hiiragizawa-kun to compose everything by himself.”
With a shrug, Eriol said, “I can only write music for the piano. And morose pieces, as Miho always points out.”
“Li-sensei transcribed all of Hiiragizawa-kun’s piano pieces for the orchestra,” Rika added. “I didn’t realize how many instruments he played and is familiar with.”
Leiyun heard his name and smiled. “I can’t say I play other instruments besides strings and the piano. But between my numerous cousins and aunts and uncles, I’m sure we can come up with a full orchestra, so I am quite familiar with a wide range of instruments.”
Rika nodded. “We needed a bright, orchestral piece for the ballroom scene, and Li-sensei just came up with the piece on the spot. He must be a genius.”
“It sounds like Strauss,” murmured Eriol rather sourly.
“But Hiiragizawa-kun’s piano pieces are really quite marvelous too,” said Rika, strumming with her right hand Cinderella’s soliloquy piece on the keyboard.
“I didn’t know you composed, Li-sensei,” remarked Tomoyo, staring down at the sheet music
Leiyun said with a shrug. “If you can call this composing. Was simple enough—it’s no Mozart.”
It wasn’t even as if he was trying to be modest. “I didn’t want Cinderella’s ballroom scene to sound like some funeral march—unless that’s what you were going for, since the play’s been aptly named ‘Gotherella.’”
“I know what you did with the orchestra in such a short period of time,” said Tomoyo. “If you didn’t care about music, you wouldn’t harp on them so much and be so demanding.”
“We Lis are known for our Spartan training style,” replied Leiyun with a wave of his hand. “It’s the only method we know of.”
“The first cello especially improved a lot,” remarked Tomoyo offhandedly. “You may or may not have given him extra lessons.”
“First cello came a long way,” agreed Leiyun. “I can’t do anything about your Sakura though—she’s just not very talented at instruments. Maybe we should have made her timpani. She has a decent sense of rhythm, at least.”
“Sakura-chan’s come a long way” Tomoyo said defensively.
“Yeah, Syaoran does cover up for her mistakes pretty well,” said Leiyun. “And he would have been Clow Card Master today, if he wasn’t always covering for her.”
“That’s not true!” exclaimed Tomoyo. “Sakura became Card Mistress fair and square by passing Yue’s final judgment.”
Leiyun smirked. “You mean, Mizuki Kaho rang Clow’s bell to bring her back from Limbo. The test was rigged from the beginning, so Syaoran did not stand a chance. But if it be Clow Reed’s will, so be it.”
“It wasn’t rigged,” retorted Tomoyo. “Sakura fought hard to be acknowledged.”
“Well, it’s a skill in itself to get people to do things for you, so I laud her,” said Leiyun with a shrug. “You should come up with a way to cast her in the play and take her off my hands. I can do just as well without her.” When Tomoyo was about to protest, for Sakura could do know wrong in her eyes, he interjected, “Oh, you were about to agree with me. You want Sakura to be in the play, not sitting in the dusty orchestra pit where she won’t be seen and hopefully not heard.” And he walked off with a sinister chuckle to berate his orchestra again for slacking off.
Tomoyo crossed her arms, conflicted. She could not dream of telling Sakura to quit orchestra after she had practiced so hard.
“When did our Syaoran get so good at the violin?” asked Shiefa, listening to the orchestra.
“He’s resembling father more and more,” remarked Fuutie with a gentle smile. “And I’m glad Lei has picked up music again.”
Meilin asked, “Why did he give it up in the first place? He’s so good and he clearly enjoys playing it, no matter what he says.”
Fuutie replied, scrunching up her brows, “I believe it was after he won grand prize in a major cello competition in Hong Kong.”
“That was not long before he was sent away on that mission,” murmured Meilin.
Fuutie nodded. “I heard he was offered a full scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music. But when he mentioned it to his father, Uncle Wutai threw a fit. He burned all of Leiyun’s sheet music and compositions and smashed his instruments, including his mother’s grand piano.”
“I thought the Lis encourage playing instruments,” remarked Tomoyo.
“Yes, as a hobby, another checkpoint on college applications,” said Fuutie. “Not as a profession, especially if you are the son of the Head of the Li Clan. As the son of Li Wutai, you were not free to do anything.”
“So, Leiyun-san gave up playing music after that?” asked Tomoyo.
“I didn’t see him pick up an instrument since then. He quit music lessons and the school orchestra,” said Fuutie. “But then again, he was training to be Chosen One and preparing for some top-secret mission, and I never thought much about it. He’s always had a short attention span. And he never complained or spoke up against his father. That was Leiyun though. I thought I was close to him, but I never knew what was going on in his mind, even then. Goodness, Meilin, why are you tearing up?”
Lower lips wobbling, Meilin replied, “I didn’t even know that, and I asked him to play a cello piece for me back then. And he just smiled and said that his cello was under repair at the moment, and I thought nothing about it.”
Shiefa remarked, “I wonder what convinced him to pick up the bow again. I never gave it much thought, but he did save his favorite cello and Father’s music scores by leaving them at our house.”
Tomoyo asked, “What I don’t understand is Leiyun-san by every means is a talented and dutiful son. It seems like Leiyun-san is Elder Li Wutai’s only son. Then, why would he send away his only heir to a deadly mission?”
Blinking at Tomoyo, Shiefa said, “Are you suggesting that Uncle Wutai would purposefully try to kill Leiyun? Of course the Elders knew it was a dangerous mission, but they must have thought Leiyun would have been able to handle it, or else they wouldn’t have sent him. Leiyun back then was thought to be a shoe-in to become the Chosen One, so it was a necessary mission, I’ve been told. Besides, what kind of cruel father would send his only son to sure death? Uncle Wutai was devastated when he heard that Leiyun had died. We all were.”
“I don’t know,” said Fuutie. “Uncle Wutai and Lei have always been sort of distant to each other.”
“Uncle Wutai is cold to everybody,” replied Shiefa. “He’s always been that way.”
Fuutie said, “Some of the cousins say that Leiyun has changed since he came back. But I’ve known him all my life—we grew up together, trained together, went to school together. He’s always been inscrutable. There was the face he would show the rest of the world, but there always was that shadow in his eyes when he stepped away from the group. Our Syaoran’s always been a lone wolf—he never liked to mingle with people and always had been serious and hardworking. Leiyun has always been at the center of the crowd. But they always say being the ringleader is a lonely job. Lei was the glue that bound us together, but who was his pillar, who was his support all this time, I wondered, when he supposedly died. Why was Uncle Wutai and the Elders frightened of him, and what had Leiyun been plotting all this time. That’s what I wondered when he somehow miraculously returned from the dead.”
Tomoyo turned to Fuutie. “And what is Leiyun-san’s wish?”
Fuutie tilted her head. “Who knows? We didn’t know what went on in his head when we were kids, much less so now.”
******
“Where’s Meilin?” asked Syaoran, walking into Kai’s kitchen with a pot of beef curry that evening. “I made some extra—heat it up and have it later.”
“Thanks,” said Kai sitting cross-legged on his living room couch, not looking up from his videogame. “Meilin didn’t drop by tonight—I think the girls are having a sleepover.”
“What do you think girls do at sleepovers?” asked Syaoran. “They have one every week.”
“I don’t know, you’re the one with four sisters,” replied Kai. “Wear matching pajamas made by Tomoyo, eat jam-filled Parisian macarons, paint glittery nails, gossip about the hottest idols, talk crap about us, and watch old videos of Sakura card-captoring.”
Syaoran’s eyes instantly narrowed. “Have you been invited to one of Tomoyo’s exclusive sleepovers, or how do you know so well?”
“If you’re so jealous, we can have a sleepover too,” said Kai, scooting over on the couch to make room for Syaoran. “I’ll teach you how to play this new video game—Kero-chan’s not a good sport when he loses and has a foul mouth.”
Syaoran did sit down on the couch, but refused to listen to Kai’s rapid instructions on how to play the fighting game. “Why would you role-play martial arts combat when we can get up and do it ourselves?”
“Spoilsport,” muttered Kai. “Meilin said the same thing. If you’re going to be all cranky, go back to your place and get some sleep, for heaven’s sake.”
“I can’t fall asleep,” Syaoran said dully. “How do you deal with it—lack of sleep—you were a thief that functioned mostly in the night.”
“I’m a nocturnal being, so obviously, I sleep during the day,” replied Kai. “Sakura is right. You’re not going crazy, you’re simply acutely sleep deprived.”
Syaoran glared at him. “Were you eavesdropping on us earlier?”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” retorted Kai. “I was napping on the rooftop first when you two lovebirds intruded—everyone knows that’s my turf. And I know one or two things about sleep deprivation since I’ve had chronic insomnia since I was twelve, and what you need to do is get some medication, take powernaps during the day like I do, or find a talisman. If you want, I can do sleep hypnosis for you.”
“No thanks, as if I would entrust my semiconscious state to you,” muttered Syaoran. “Besides, you haven’t experienced Limbo, so you wouldn’t know.”
Kai’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve had to deal with a person who was bordering madness, so you’d think I’d be able to recognize if a person’s gone mad, and you’re fine.”
“Who are you speaking of?” asked Syaoran.
“My mother. She didn’t even recognize me or Miho that last couple months as the Plague took control over her body,” said Kai. “I’ve witness the corrupting powers of a dark force, what it can do to the best of us.”
“Thankfully, your mother is fine now,” said Syaoran. “You were able to save her.”
“I wasn’t the one who saved her,” said Kai. “It’s Sakura who saved her. The corrupting powers of the Plague, only Sakura’s power of the stars would have been able to save my mother, I realize now. Because Sakura’s Heal Card didn’t only cure my mother’s body, it cleansed her soul, her heart, her mind. My mother absorbed a lot less of the Plague in her body when it was sealed a quarter generation ago—Nadeshiko-san, Ryuuren-san, and Reiji-san took in most of it, which is why they passed away a lot sooner. But your father and Sakura’s mother, they were a lot stronger. They never lost their mind, their hearts, even when the Plague overtook their bodies. What kind of strength did that take, I wonder.”
Syaoran had not seen his father at the brink of his death, but he knew that at least up till the moment Li Ryuuren had departed on his last mission, he had been the same unfaltering brave warrior.
Kai continued, “My mother always knew she did not stand equal to Amamiya Nadeshiko or Li Ryuuren, mentally or physically, so she had an inferiority complex. And she felt guilty after she heard of the deaths of her best friends, that she had been left behind. She thought if she had taken on a fair portion of the Plague in her body, then the other three would have been able to live a few years longer as well, spend more time with their loved ones. She talked about this a lot in her delirium as I watched over her. Night after night, she would speak of her regrets and fears. I thought it was bad having my father taken away from me suddenly in a bizarre accident overseas, giving us no time to prepare mentally. But it was even worse watching one you love waste away right in front of your eyes and being helpless.”
“It is thanks to her help that the Plague was able to be sealed at all,” said Syaoran. “I know for sure my father, and I’m sure the others, were immensely grateful that she took on such a sacrifice.”
“It think she’s grown to realize that, thanks to meeting Sakura and you and the others,” sad Kai. “And there was another person who held great regret for never even showing up in the first place. Leon Reed. He spent the rest of his life regretting his cowardice, not taking the chance. Which was why he dedicated for the remainder of his life to collecting the Five Force Treasures and other relics of the Great Five.”
“And you carried on that mantle,” said Syaoran.
“No,” said Kai. “I had purely selfish motivations. I just wanted to save my mother. Leon believed his calling was to indeed somehow to save the others because he failed to do so the first time. The reason I joined Sakura’s Alliance was because I didn’t want to have the same regrets. I knew I’d regret it if I joined, but I’d regret it even more if I didn’t.”
“It’s okay to be selfish,” Syaoran told him.
“I know,” said Kai. “It’s okay to be selfish sometimes, Syaoran. You always sacrifice yourself and make others around you look bad. And I don’t think that’s what Sakura wants.”
“What are you two teenage boys talking about so sincerely in the middle of the night?” asked Shiefa with a yawn, walking right into Kai’s living room, holding a pink winged teddy bear she had found in Syaoran’s bedroom.
“Gah, what is your sister doing here?” demanded Kai. “I thought it was suspicious you were over at my place voluntarily for a change.”
Syaoran sighed. “Shiefa and Fuutie are over watching a late night drama here—the Li mansion doesn’t have cable, apparently.”
“Wow, this TV screen is huge!” exclaimed Shiefa, examining the flat screen TV in Kai’s living room. “Fuutie, look at this curved glass screen and the surround sound system is amazing—take out the video game, let’s watch the drama here.”
Fuutie trailed into Kai’s apartment next with a bucket of caramel popcorn. “So you two live together?”
“No!” exclaimed Syaoran. “He’s my next door neighbor. As I explained before, I don’t occupy the entire floor, only the next door flat is my place, and this is a separate apartment.”
Fuutie blinked. “Technicalities. We own this entire building, and you occupy one room on this floor, and Kai lives in another room, so you two are living together.” She plopped down on the couch next to Syaoran and picked up the remote control, switching off the videogame.
“Oh, look, there’s curry on the stove. I’ll heat some up and bring it over,” said Shiefa, hovering in the kitchen.
“We just had curry for dinner—that’s for Kai,” said Syaoran.
“Geez, fine, we won’t touch your precious Kai’s curry,” said Shiefa. She poked her head into the master bedroom. “Wow, the sheets are black satin. And this manly scent of musky cologne—Syaoran, why does your room smell of peaches and cream for heaven’s sake?”
“Where do you think you’re going into?” demanded Syaoran. “Don’t just intrude into a strange guy’s bedroom without permission—who knows what you’d find it there?”
Kai shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s all right, nothing they haven’t seen before growing up with a brother.”
“Don’t compare me to you!” snapped Syaoran.
“See, Kai said it’s fine,” said Shiefa. “Grow up, Syaoran.”
“Where’s Meilin?” asked Fuutie.
“Sleeping over at Tomoyo’s,” replied Kai.
Fuutie turned to Kai sharply. “How do you know that?”
“I told him,” interjected Syaoran.
“Then why did you go looking for her after dinner?” asked Fuutie.
“I forgot,” mumbled Syaoran.
Shiefa shook her head. “I told you he’s going senile, Fuutie. Ever since Syaoran became the Great Elder, he’s become forgetful like Great Uncle Renshu was.”
“I’m just sleep-deprived!” snapped Syaoran.
And Shiefa, who always slept like a rock, came back out of Kai’s bedroom and asked incredulously, “Why?”
As Syaoran sputtered, Fuutie remarked, “I wonder what Sakura-chan and the others do at sleepovers.”
“Same things we do, don’t you think?” asked Shiefa, sitting down on Kai’s other side, making a tight squeeze on the three-person couch.
“Dress up Syaoran-doll in lace dresses?” remarked Fuutie. “Plot how to embarrass him at the next family gathering? Look at his adorable kindergarten photos?”
Kai smothered a chuckle as Syaoran with a groan buried his head into the pink teddy bear he had discreetly snatched back from Shiefa.
And Shiefa whipped out a DVD from behind her back and said, “Do you have a DVD player here Kai? Can we watch this?”
“What is it?” asked Syaoran before he read the title on the disc and turned pale. “Where did you find that, give it back!”
Shiefa help up the DVD over her head and exclaimed, “It was in the oven. What is it? Why are you so bashful? Is it something we shouldn’t see? It’s true you are at that age.” She tossed the DVD to Fuutie as Syaoran made a grab for the disc.
Fuutie read out the title on the DVD. “Sakura’s Precious Moments: For Your Eyes Only. What is this? Some adult video?” And she inserted the DVD into the player.
They were greeted by the sparkly opening sequence to “More Forbidden Trials of Kaitou Magician and the Small Wolf,” with a tornado of red rose petals, a cloaked gentleman thief and the silhouette of a howling wolf. Syaoran actually sighed in relief.
“Oh, it’s the sequel?” squealed Shiefa.
“Only the beta version,” said Kai. And he slipped the original Tomoyo-produced DVD back to Syaoran discreetly.
Syaoran shook his head. Leave it to the former thief and his incredible sleight of hand. “What is this DVD, anyway?” he hissed at Kai.
“You mean you still haven’t watched it yet? You’re missing out—Tomoyo edited it with extra care,” replied Kai with a snicker.
******
Tomoyo sneezed as she and her friends busily sewed final touches to Cinderella costumes in her bedroom.
“What was in that pie box you gave Syaoran?” asked Meilin, clumsily hemming her ballroom dress for the play. “I know it contained some DVD—he’s been hiding it from me vigilantly.”
“Has he watched it yet?” Tomoyo asked with a chuckle as she pinned a new dress pattern.
Sakura blinked. “Hoe, it wasn’t actually a cherry pie?”
Miho came to the rescue and said, “Tomoyo-senpai, Eriol went looking for you during lunch break. Did you see him?”
“Oh, weren’t you with Li-sensei in the music room?” Meilin asked. “You two seem to have gotten close. Many girls approach him, but he never really talks to them you know. He just smiles and doesn’t answer.”
“I had something to give him,” said Tomoyo.
“I saw Leiyun reject that pretty senior, Shoko-senpai, after rehearsal today—third confession just this week,” remarked Meilin.
“Li-sensei would be rather handsome, if his eyes weren’t so cold,” remarked Miho. “His smile always feels automatic, like he doesn’t mean it.”
Sakura thought that Miho did have a way of pinpointing exactly the aspect she had felt was off about Leiyun.
“So, how is confessing to Syaoran going?” asked Meilin. “I know you were trying to pick up your stuff at our place in person, but silly Syaoran insisted on returning it because his sisters were visiting today, and they paw through everything.”
Stabbing her needle into a piece of fabric, Sakura groaned. “I tried so many times, Sunday at Tokyo Tower, the other day after the alliance meeting, and during lunch break today. I never realized confessing can be this hard.”
“You confessed to Yukito-san fine in elementary school,” pointed out Meilin.
“I knew 100 percent he was going to reject me—it was different!” exclaimed Sakura. “Why is it so hard to confess?”
And Tomoyo shrugged. “Sorry, I have no expertise to give on that matter.”
Chuckling, Meilin said, “Tomoyo-chan always gets confessed to. She’s more of an expert at graciously rejecting confessions.”
Sakura asked, “Meilin-chan, how did you confess to Kai?”
Meilin tilted her head. “I didn’t.”
“What do you mean? You mean, you never told him your feelings?” asked Sakura.
Scrunching up her brows, Meilin said, “Now that I think about it, no I haven’t.”
“Why not?”
Meilin shrugged. “I don’t know. Kai tells me he loves me all the time. To the point I can’t really take his words seriously. I kind of get how Syaoran felt, back when I was always nagging him, asking him to marry me, telling him how much I adored him.”
“But Syaoran-kun is a very patient person,” said Tomoyo. “He accepted that side of you.”
“Yeah, he is a polite person in general,” said Meilin. “But I think, it would have been better for him to flatly reject me from early on. It was his politeness which gave me false hope and enabled me to hold on as long as I did.”
“So, a cold rejection can be the kinder deed in the long run,” remarked Tomoyo.
“I guess that’s what Yukito-san did,” said Sakura with a sigh.
Meilin nodded. “That was quite a brutal rejection, comparing your feelings for him to your feelings for your father. Even if he knew that was not true.”
Sakura blinked. “Yukito-san knew that my feelings were not the same?”
Tomoyo replied, “Well, he was the adult then. He couldn’t lead you on, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He did the best he could to discourage you by drawing a clear line.”
And Sakura buried her head into her knees. “I’ll never be able to confess to Syaoran.”
She had never dreamed that confessing to Syaoran would be this difficult. First off, it was impossible to get alone time with Syaoran in between preparation for the cultural festival, and Syaoran’s sisters constantly demanding his attention. When she finally had a moment alone with Syaoran, they were either interrupted or she choked on her own words. It was as Tomoyo said—maybe she was scared of rejection, that he might draw a line with her.
“If it’s difficult to confess to him in person, maybe you should write him a love letter!” exclaimed Miho.
Sakura exclaimed, “That’s right, if I can’t confess to him in person, I can write him a letter.”
“What a great idea!” exclaimed Tomoyo, whipping out stationary printed with pale pink cherry blossoms and a feather-shaped fountain pen. “And I can film the doki-doki confession of a high school girl delivering a love letter to her crush.”
As her friends looked on, Sakura poised her pen over the pretty stationary. “Dear Syaoran, I spent a lot of time thinking of how to convey these words to you... Six years ago, you told me that I will one day find my most important person.” She scribbled out the lines. Dear Syaoran. Seven years ago, when I met you, I already knew you would become a dear friend. Now, I know you are even more than that. Again, she struck out the lines then crumpled up the sheet of paper, moaning in exasperation. “I can’t think of what I want to say to him!”
“Well, there’s always the cultural festival this weekend,” said Tomoyo. “The second most popular day for confessions aside from Valentine’s Day.”
Sakura clasped her palms over her face. “But I have horrible luck on cultural festival days.”
******
Thursday…
Li Syaoran woke the next day with the worst case of migraine ever in an unfamiliar apartment. He sat up from the black leather coach. It was Kai’s apartment. He kicked off a flannel blanket. And he glanced over to the floor, where his two sisters lay sprawled asleep on a silver blanket hauled off of Kai’s bed. There were wine glasses on the floor and toppled empty bottles of Louis Roederer Cristal Rose and Dom Pérignon and salted caramel popcorn kernels scattered about.
Kai walked out of his bedroom in his pajama bottoms with a yawn. “Sleep well?”
Syaoran wobbled onto his feet, clutching his pink teddy bear, and croaked, “What happened last night?”
“Don’t you remember?” asked Kai. “We were watching Nefarious Thief and the Small Wolf, when Shiefa invaded my wine cellar and cracked open my precious vintage Dom Pérignon. And your sisters began sharing about the time they dressed sewed you into a teddy bear suit in kindergarten making you think you had actually turned into a bear. Then they—”
With a groan, Syaoran said, “I don’t want to remember.” He stumbled back to his apartment, careful step around his sisters as to not wake them.
To his horror, his sisters who had been dead asleep were waiting fresh and perky at the parking lot of the apartment as he discreetly tried to slip off to school.
“Trying to sneak off without saying goodbye,” said Fuutie. “Why didn’t you tell us you were suffering from insomnia? We’re taking you to Jingmei so she can diagnose you—Wei’s picking us up right now!”
“I was wondering, what is your actual relationship with Mizuki Kai?” asked Shiefa as Syaoran dashed past his sisters.
“Syaoran, don’t run away from us! Come back here and answer us!” called out Fuutie.
Syaoran hopped on the gleaming motorcycle parked by the apartment complex and started up the engine.
Fuutie exclaimed, “Oh my gosh, was that flashy motorcycle parked in front of the apartment yours? Who got you into riding motorcycles like some delinquent? Was it that hoodlum Mizuki Kai?”
Shiefa said, “Aren’t you wearing a helmet? Oh boy, you’re in trouble when we tell Mother about this.”
Syaoran said with a scowl, “I can’t get a driver’s license for another year, and I’ve got to get around, don’t I?”
“You have Wei to drive you around. Or you can hire an exclusive chauffeur—you’re the Great Elder of the Li Clan for heaven’s sake not some gangster!” exclaimed Fuutie. “I really don’t know where you get your rebellious streak from.”
And Shiefa laughed at her older sister. “Who’s the one who got caught riding on the back of the Hong Kong triad boss’ motorcycle in high school?”
At this, Fuutie blushed. “This and that are different! And Zino always made me wear a helmet!”
Watching from the balcony of his room, with a lazy smile, Kai called out, “Here’s your helmet, honey!” And he tossed out a shiny white and blue helmet, which Syaoran expertly caught.
Slamming on the helmet over his head, Syaoran shouted out, “Thanks!” Then he drove off on the motorcycle.
Shiefa remarked to Fuutie, “Those two lovebirds get along so well.”
******
Heart pounding, Sakura stared at the sealed pink envelope, not even remembering what she had written the previous night. She was sure she had written some form of confession on those sheets of paper as Miho berated her. Now, how to give him the letter. The appropriate thing would be to call out Syaoran to the back of the school and hand it to him in person. But that method only made sense if they were not well-acquainted with each other. Syaoran would find it odd that she would call him out to give him a letter when she could just speak to him in person. She heard a rumble of engine outside, and thought it was Kai—to her surprise, it was Syaoran. That was rare—he never rode his motorcycle to school. A bunch of underclassmen tittered as they gathered to see who rode up to school in a motorcycle, and squealed when he took off his helmet and shook out his mussed chestnut brown hair.
“It’s the soccer captain!” squealed one freshman. “He’s dreamy, isn’t he?”
Her friend replied, “I didn’t know he owned a motorcycle. He always looks so proper and studious—I didn’t know he had a wild streak.”
And panicking as she spotted him walking into the school building, Sakura stuffed the letter into Syaoran’s shoe locker in a flurry even though it would kill Tomoyo that she was not handing it to him in person.
Sakura spent the rest of the morning peeking at Syaoran to check if he had read her letter yet. He looked gray in the face and seemed to be suffering from a migraine as he clutched his temples. It seemed as if he had missed the envelope when he had changed into indoor shoes that morning, which would mean the next time he checked would be after school. She groaned. Maybe it wasn’t too late to retrieve the letter. But her worries were set aside temporarily when Eron hobbled into third period, music class, on crutches, his left leg in a cast.
Everybody gasped and Naoko asked, “Eron-kun, what happened?”
“I tripped over the stairs this morning,” said Eron woefully. “I guess I can’t be Cinderella anymore.”
“You can’t be serious?” said Meilin. “We’re a day away from the cultural festival. You really can’t walk around? You can’t pull out last minute like this. What are we going to do?”
“You can still perform, can’t you?” asked Chiharu.
“So, when the Prince holds out the glass slipper, I get to stick out my cast?” said Eron. “It’s impossible. I can’t move around the stage with these crutches, especially with all the props.”
“What are we going to do? We can’t pull off Cinderella without the main character!” exclaimed Naoko. “And Eron-kun had the most lines, it’ll be impossible for anyone to memorize them in just a day. Unless Eriol-kun, who wrote the play—”
Eriol interjected, “Erika-san helped both Jinyu-san and Eron-san memorize all the lines—she knows all the lines by heart. She can be Cinderella.”
Erika glanced up at Eriol, wondering how he knew this.
“But Erika-chan is the evil stepsister!” Chiharu pointed.
“The stepsister doesn’t have many lines—an understudy can easily replace that role,” suggested Eron.
“This is not some grand production like Star-Crossed was—we don’t have understudies,” said Naoko.
“Sakura can play the stepsister—Erika’s role,” stated Eriol. “You’ve been watching from the orchestra the whole time, so you know the general gist of the play. And you are similar sizes with Erika, so no changes to the costume will have to be made.” Though he was pretty sure Tomoyo had a whole new wardrobe ready for Sakura were she to have a role in the play. Tomoyo had been heartbroken when Sakura insisted on joining the orchestra.
“But I’m second violin in the orchestra,” protested Sakura.
Leiyun waved his hand. “You won’t be missed, go ahead and play the stepsister, please.”
“We would still need a second violin though,” Rika said.
“Well, Eron-kun plays violin,” Tomoyo pointed out. “He hurt his leg, but he can play violin sitting down no problem.”
Eron nodded. “Sure, it would be no problem.”
“But Eron-kun hasn’t played with the orchestra before—that’s a lot of score to learn pretty much overnight,” pointed out Sakura.
“Do you doubt my skills?” asked Eron. “I was Cinderella, I was in every scene and heard the orchestra music over and over again, every single day, whether I wanted to or not.” He took Sakura’s violin and played the violin’s part for the ballroom scene with utter ease, as if he had been practicing every day.
Leiyun clapped. “Wonderful. I would take you over Sakura any day.”
Sakura pouted. “I practiced really hard on the violin.”
“I’m sure you did,” muttered Eron with a thin smile. “I did too.”
“Excuse me, are you even asking me, the person in question, whether I want to take on the responsibility of playing Cinderella on such a short notice? I mean, this is pretty sudden,” declared Erika.
Eron clapped his sister on the shoulder. “Of course you’ll do it. You love being in the spotlight.”
And Erika thought on it for a second then sighed. “Who am I kidding? As always, I would be the one picking up after your mess.”
“I can make adjustments to Cinderella’s costumes,” remarked Tomoyo. “I guess this is the best solution.”
“Is that even a real cast?” asked Kai, arms crossed, peering over the top rim of his sunglasses at Eron’s foot.
Eron’s lashes were downcast as he made a show of tuning Sakura’s violin. “Well, the cast is real.”
“You planned all this out,” said Kai, clucking. “I knew there was no way you would go on stage in princess drag without a last protest.”
Eron smiled sweetly. “Of course not. Besides, don’t you think Erika makes a much cuter Cinderella?”
“Same difference,” muttered Kai.
“Yeah, I guess,” Eron conceded. “I made a pretty cute Cinderella as well.”
“This is all your fault!” Meilin told Syaoran reproachfully. “You should have just agreed to play Cinderella, and Sakura could have played Prince Charming, and we would not have had to deal with this whole mess!”
But Syaoran was lost in a sudden revelation. “Now, why didn’t I pretend to break a leg before the Sleeping Beauty performance in elementary school?”
“I think you secretly kind of enjoyed it!” muttered Meilin, still bitter at being cast of Maleficent.
******
Tomoyo was blissfully reveling in all the beautiful dresses Sakura would get to wear in the school play and nearly missed Li Leiyun walking down the opposite end of hallway in his white coat. Normally, she would have passed by with a courteous nod of her head, but there was nowhere to avoid him in the narrow hallway, and she found he had stopped in front of her. She stared up at Leiyun, squinting as the afternoon sunlight flooded in through the windows. His eyes were a magnificent shade of aqua today, and the rays of light reflecting off the glass tinted his wispy hair nearly golden.
“You always get your own way in the end, just like my spoiled kitty cat,” remarked Leiyun. “You must be delighted your darling Sakura-chan will be taking center stage.”
“How is Byakko-chan doing?”
“Quite a lazy kitten he is, when he’s not off prowling around in the middle of the night like the nocturnal creature he is,” replied Leiyun. “And he sleeps on my comic books during daytime.”
“Well, I guess he takes after his master,” remarked Tomoyo.
“Did you hear the demo files I sent you?” asked Leiyun, reminding her of their awkward encounter in the music room interrupted by Eriol. “For the finale.”
“Yes, the music was perfect,” replied Tomoyo, for it was.
“Really, did you like it?” he asked eagerly, and she was caught off guard at how there was a charming boyish quality as he grinned down at her, as if he really did want to be praised by her.
Just then, there was a splitting crack behind them, and the hallway window shattered into thousands of fragments. Tomoyo could barely pinpoint the source of the loud clash, but then a white blur covered her, forcing her to drop to her knees. She looked up, and saw Leiyun wincing, his arms above his head to shield them from a shower of glass shards.
A glass fragment grazed her cheek, but the rest of the shards were cloaked by Leiyun. Catching her breath, she exclaimed, “Leiyun-san!”
He looked down at her, expressionless, as if he didn’t have pieces of glass embedded in his back. “Your face got cut.” And he bent over and licked the scrape on her cheek, moments before a crowd gathered at either end of the hallway at the sound of shattering glass.
“Oh no, they’re injured—someone call the teacher!” exclaimed Naoko, hands clasped over her mouth.
“Was it a baseball from the field?” asked Aki, looking around for a ball.
“Lei, are you all right?” asked Kara, pushing through the crowds of students to the scene of the accident. “You don’t look so good.”
He stood up, brushing glass fragments off of his shoulders. “Don’t overreact, I’m fine. Be careful not to step on the pieces.”
“You’re bleeding!” exclaimed Tomoyo, seeing the back of his white coat splattered in crimson.
“Am I? I am.” Leiyun smiled thinly, glancing over his shoulder. “There goes your theory that I’m a ghost, zombie, or nonhuman. So, what color is my blood?”
“Don’t joke when you have glass shards sticking out your back,” said Kara. “Let me take you to the infirmary—oh wait, you are supposed to be our school doctor. Idiot. Let’s count to 10 to see if he can walk himself over to the infirmary or not. Oh, down he goes. Jin, give me a hand.”
Dr. Li Jingmei sighed, rolling up her sleeves, staring exasperated at Kara, Erika and Jinyu in the Seijou High infirmary. “This is the emergency you called me all the way across town for? I have actual patients that I need to tend to, you know. Why don’t you just remove them with your powers, Lei?”
Kara, arms crossed as she leaned on the spare infirmary bed, replied, “Leiyun believes in restricting the use of magic to only where it is absolutely necessary. So that magic doesn’t become a crutch or something.”
“Pincers,” said Jingmei, and Erika handed her the sterilized steel apparatus from a tray.
Leiyun lay flat on his stomach on the infirmary bed, shirt rolled up to bare his back.
“What did you do to get these injuries, roll around in a bed of broken glass?” asked Jingmei as she took a closer look at the wounds. “This looks pretty bad, actually. It will hurt.” She began fishing out the shards of glass embedded across his back, some deeper than the others. “It’s the tiny fragments that are a problem. You should really come to the hospital—we have better equipment there.”
“It’s all right, I’ll survive,” he drawled. “Tomoyo-chan, you don’t have to stand there and watch, unless you’re into this kind of blood and gore, which you may be, then stay. Luckily, or unfortunately, I’m still alive and in one piece.”
With a frown, Tomoyo asked Dr. Li Jingmei, “Is he going to be all right?”
“Well, his tongue is still wagging, so I say he’s fine,” said Jingmei. “Though when we were around 13, he fractured six ribs after a brawl with some older relatives and walked around for a week without doing anything about it. Nobody even knew until he collapsed in the middle of practice with a burning fever, and the Great Elder threw a big fuss.”
“He told me, ‘Nobody can take care of your own body expect for yourself. You only have one body, so make sure it is in its top condition, if you want to become a true warrior,’” said Leiyun, making a good impression of the late Great Elder.
“I think it was more along the lines of, ‘Idiot, if you are in pain, go see a doctor. It doesn’t make you any less of a warrior to admit weakness,’” interjected Jingmei. “I was there too, when my father was called in to treat you. Boy was my father annoyed, too, being called away from an important international medical conference.”
Kara leaned closer and peered over the wounds and finally remarked, “Jingmei, that really doesn’t look too pretty. Is he really all right?”
“Not really. I should probably be stitching him up, but we’ll make do with the surgical tapes for now,” said Jingmei. “Don’t you dare do any strenuous activities because you’ll split the wounds open again, Li Leiyun.”
“Why didn’t you just use a barrier to protect yourself?” asked Erika with a long sigh, as she handed Jingmei extra gauze.
“There were too many people around,” replied Leiyun. “It would have been awkward.”
“He was protecting me,” said Tomoyo. And Jingmei glanced in her direction, surprised to find the younger girl still there. “It’s because of me he was wounded.”
Lying on his stomach, Leiyun shrugged, popping a surgical tape on his shoulder much to the annoyance of Jingmei. “Not particularly. Would’ve done that for most people, save those who could save themselves.”
“And if you were any smarter, you would have just used a discreet ward instead of using your poor body as the shield. What’s the point of being blessed with so much darned magical power if you don’t use it?” said Jingmei in exasperation. “One would think you enjoyed being hurt, you sadomasochist.”
Chuckling, Leiyun said, “Well, otherwise, dear Tomoyo-chan would not be here by my side worrying for me like she actually cared if I was run over by a truck or not.”
Jingmei swiped some antiseptic across his bare shoulders. “If I didn’t know you from childhood, I would say spending all those years trapped in the Dragon Isles or wherever you were sent addled your brain a bit. But you were always a bit strange.”
Tomoyo finally blurted out, “Why did you save me?”
Leiyun turned his head so that he could look up at Tomoyo from the bed, through wisps of silver bangs that fell into his ice blue eyes. “One doesn’t really think about a reason to save someone. The body moves first—it’s natural instinct. I was right beside you. Humans are not as intricate and deep as you believe them to be, the ever-so-wise Tomoyo-dono. Humans are basic, instinctual, beastlike.”
Tomoyo remarked, “There are times when it seems very natural that you are Syaoran’s cousin, after all.”
“Syaoran’s my better half,” said Leiyun softly, slowly sitting up despite Jingmei’s protest. “You know that, don’t you, other Amamiya heir. Don’t you consider Sakura your better half? You desperately hope that Sakura cannot see into your deepest, darkest thoughts for fear you may scare her away. I am the same.”
Jingmei rolled her eyes. “Don’t put our pure and innocent Tomoyo-chan on the same level as you, Leiyun. Here, take some painkillers.”
“Pure, maybe, but definitely not innocent. Just put some of your special balm on, Jingmei—the stinky green one,” said Leiyun, in his jesting tone again.
“I’m saving that for emergencies,” mumbled Jingmei. “It takes forever to brew and the ingredients are only available back home.”
“And what is this then if it’s not an emergency case?” asked Leiyun, waving his hand over his head at his torn back.
“Idiocy,” said Jingmei, slapping on the slimy green balm on his back.
“Ow!” whined Leiyun. “It stings! Blow on it for me.”
Erika rolled her eyes and fanned Leiyun’s back with her Cinderella script, wrinkling her nose. “That stuff is really potent. And smelly. What exactly is that?”
“It’s my special concoction,” replied Jingmei, glasses gleaming. “You don’t want to know what’s in it.” And Jinyu nodded solemnly.
******
Sakura fussed over Tomoyo as the Alliance gathered in Clow Reed’s study that evening. She squeezed her best friend in a tight hug and checked with her own eyes that besides a few scrapes on her cheek and fingers, Tomoyo seemed otherwise fine.
“I can’t believe someone had to gall to attack our Tomoyo-senpai on campus!” exclaimed Miho. “Who can possibly be targeting her? This, and the ladder incident last time.”
“Was Tomoyo really the target?” asked Kai with a frown.
“Tomoyo was standing right by the windows when they shattered all of a sudden, and Leiyun covered for her,” remarked Meilin. “I saw from the opposite end of the hallway.”
“Could it be the White Tiger again?” asked Syaoran.
“I don’t know, but would it have the power to shatter glass like that?” asked Sakura.
Miho spun around and glared at Eron. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
Eron said, “That accusation again! I wouldn’t hurt Tomoyo. What about that white kitten that became Li Leiyun’s pet? Isn’t that kitten pretty suspicious too? All the accidents coincide with his appearance. He’s even named Byakko for heaven’s sake!”
Meilin exclaimed, “Now you go about accusing an innocent kitty cat! Cousin Leiyun rescued him from being abandoned by the sidewalk in the rain.”
“But Byakko-chan wasn’t there when the windows shattered,” interjected Tomoyo.
Kaho remarked, “I couldn’t sense any dark powers from Byakko-chan the cat.”
“Me neither,” admitted Sakura.
Miho pointed her finger at Eron. “All evidence points to the culprit being you. Onii-chan was right, the White Tiger must the Dark One’s patron deity.”
“So, this is how the boy who cried wolf felt like,” remarked Eron, glaring at the group. “Why do I bother, when I won’t be trusted anyway, no matter how hard I try to prove myself?”
“Well, if you want to prove your innocence, all you have to do is tell us what the Dark One’s patron spirit was,” pointed out Miho.
“He wouldn’t like it,” mumbled Eron.
“Who?” asked Miho.
“Chang Ruichi-sama,” Eron said. “And the said patron spirit.”
Miho turned to Sakura. “You should use the Libra on him and find out the truth.”
Sakura said, “I will not be using the Libra on Eron. For he’s telling the truth.”
“How do you know with such certainty?” asked Miho.
“He said he’s not behind the attacks, and I believe him,” replied Sakura.
Nakuru remarked, “There is only one reason Eron cannot show what his patron spirit right away, and that’s because it’s the White Tiger behind all these accidents. I said from the very beginning that he cannot be trusted.”
“Eron is not the person behind the attacks!” interjected a high-pitched little voice from an unknown corner of the room.
Everybody turned silent, and glanced around.
“Did you speak?” Miho asked Suppi-chan.
“It’s not me,” Suppi-chan replied.
“Chang Ryouta’s patron spirit was not the White Tiger,” the saccharine voice continued.
“Hush,” said Eron to the air. “Go away. You’ll make things worse.”
“No, it’s unfair to you. I don’t want to watch you being accused like this!” the voice continued. “Sakura-chan, you believe Eron-kun, right!”
“I said, don’t appear in front of them,” hissed Eron.
But Syaoran’s eyes rounded. “Wait. I recognize this voice. Sakura, isn’t it?”
Sakura nodded. “I know this voice too.” She squinted her eyes in recollection, then pounded a fist on the palm of her other hand. “Moonstone-chan!”
“Who?” asked Miho.
And a bunny-eared pudgy white creature appeared in front of them, blinking its beady eyes at Sakura. “Longtime no see, Sakura-chan.”
Sakura clapped her hands together excitedly. “It is you, Moonie-chan!”
Miho tilted her head, gray eyes squinted. “Mokona?”
But Syaoran, as it finally dawned up on him, pointed his finger at the creature and sputtered, “You! You were the Dark One’s patron spirit all this time? You were pretending to help us out all these years, spying on us for the Dark Ones the whole time? Not just us, but our parents too.” He drew out his sword. “This will be the end of you, you evil little kremlin.”
And Eron, arms spread, stood in front of Moonstone. “Don’t hurt Mo-chan!”
“Mo-chan?” Meilin snickered. “Cute.”
“I never asked Mo-chan to spy on you guys,” said Eron, before correcting himself of Erika’s childhood nickname for the creature. “I didn’t exactly realize you’re so well-acquainted with Moonstone either.”
Moonstone squeaked, “It’s true. I snuck off on my own. And I never meant to hurt anyone. I swear.”
“Well, Moonstone did help us numerous times, especially when we first discovered about the Five Force Scroll,” remarked Sakura.
“Well, that explains how the Five Force Scroll got stolen from us. That little betrayer can appear and disappear as it pleases,” said Syaoran, glaring at Eron. “You got that creature to steal it from us, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t—Moonstone just brought it. Besides, that thief stole it again,” Eron said, pointing to Kai.
“Well, Moonstone did say he was the immortal Guardian of the Five Force Scroll,” said Sakura. “He never exactly said he was on our side either.”
“Who knows if that’s true? He was working for the Dark Ones all this time, even when he was pretending to help out my father and your mother,” snapped Syaoran. “Who knows what kind of misinformation he was feeding them. Us too.”
“Mo-chan really is the Guardian of the Five Force Scroll,” replied Eron. “And no matter what you say about the Dark Ones, Moonstone is not bad.”
“So wait, are you serious? That bun-like creature really was the Dark One’s patron deity?” guffawed Kai, pointing at Moonstone. He picked up Moonstone and began pinching him. “Now, why don’t you reveal your true form to us?”
“Ouch! This is my true form!” protested Moonstone.
Sakura snatched away Moonstone from Kai and hugged the creature to her chest. “Don’t hurt Moonie-chan. I don’t care what you guys say. I don’t care if you were spying on me, either. You wanted to protect Eron and Erika, right? That’s why you did it, right?”
Kai said, “You’re too softhearted. Just because it’s like a plush animal with bunny ears doesn’t make it innocent.”
“But he’s so cute,” whispered Sakura.
“Think about it. Chang Ruichi, the Dark One, must have chosen that creature as his patron spirit for a reason. It must hold immense dark powers. Or have some amazing transformation ability. Stay away from it, it may be dangerous,” said Syaoran, sword still drawn.
Eron sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you? What you see is Mo-chan’s true form. It’s not like Cerberus or Spinel Sun who have a miniature form and an unsealed form.”
And Meilin turned to Eron. “I don’t get it. You’re trying to trick us, aren’t you? You’re trying to make us to believe that dumpling creature is some powerful deity who worked for the Dark Ones?”
Moonstone interjected, “I’m sorry I disappoint as the Dark One’s patron spirit. That’s why my identity was always kept secret. I didn’t want to be an embarrassment to Ruichi-sama though he saved me.”
“Saved you?” asked Syaoran.
“Yes, I guess it could be back in the days which could be called the golden age of the Five Force magicians. They were not only keeping in check local ruffians and protecting their turf, but dealing with dark forces, experimenting with new magic and taming yokai,” said Moonstone. “The other four magicians already had powerful patron spirits, but Ryouta said he did not want to form any sort of contract with any deity, even though it would have boosted his powers.”
“So, where do you come into the picture?” asked Meilin.
“I was attacked by a very powerful yokai, and I had been completely drained of any sort of power when I first met the Great Five. Mayura-sama was about to exorcise me. But Risa-sama took pity on me, so Ruichi-sama intervened and took me in. I was nearly a goner then, but Risa-sama looked after me night and day.”
“I thought you were immortal,” said Miho.
“I am, but I can also be vanquished,” replied Moonstone. “Ruichi-sama saw that Risa-sama was sad that she could not heal me, and he made a contract with me. By becoming his patron spirit by contract, he was able to share his powers with me and sustain me.”
“Like Sakura sustains Cerberus and Yue,” remarked Miho.
“Similar,” said Moonstone. “So I became Ruichi-sama’s patron spirit, though it made him the laughingstock of the Great Five. The Wolf, Phoenix, Unicorn and Dragon were obviously in a different tier than me, I knew that. I told Ryouta-sama that he could take on a different patron deity, but he kept me, and till the day he died, I was his only patron spirit.”
“And Risa-sama must have been very happy,” murmured Sakura. “Ruichi-sama was a very kind person, wasn’t he?”
Moonstone’s eyes watered. “Yes, he was. He really was.”
Meilin said flatly, “So, you kept your identity hidden because you were afraid you will be an embarrassment to the Dark One. And basically, you were useless as a patron spirit.”
“Yes,” mumbled Moonstone, floppy ears drooping.
“So, you aren’t not denying you are a spy?” asked Syaoran, arms crossed. “Declare whose side are you on exactly!”
“I promised Reiji-sama that I will watch over Eron and Erika. I’ve watched over them for 17 years, and I will continue to do so,” exclaimed Moonstone.
“What if that is not the Dark Ones’ intent?” said Syaoran. “Are you not bound by contract to serve Chang Ruichi?”
“Ruichi-sama at one point made me the Guardian of the Five Force Scroll and sealed me with it,” replied Moonstone. “Perhaps he sensed his end was drawing near. And so, I have guarded the Five Force Scroll since then. I am bound to the Scroll, not to Chang Ruichi-sama.”
“And you haven’t been the ones behind the recent attacks?” Miho asked.
Moonstone shook his pudgy head rapidly.
And Miho finally gave in and scooped up the creature, squeezing Moonstone tightly to her chest, and squealed, “Eron-senpai, can I adopt Mo-chan? So cute!”
Kai poked a finger into Moonstone belly and remarked, “So, since we’ve established this is your true form, what animal exactly are you supposed to be? A bunny? A dumpling? A blob? No wonder Mayura-sama always said that Ruichi-sama’s patron spirit cannot be described in words with an absolutely straight face. I also took it to mean that it was something so fierce and dreadful, she could not say it.”
“No, Miho, you can’t adopt her,” replied Eron with a scowl. “And she’s not a bunny or a blob, she’s just what she is. Mo-chan, we’re going to have a long talk when we get back home. Let’s go.” He held out his arms and Moonstone jumped onto Eron’s shoulder.
“Hoe, so cute,” said Sakura with a sigh, watching Moonstone rubbed his cheek against Eron’s face as he hobbled out with his foot in a cast.
“I want one,” said Miho. “Make me one, Eriol. I want a Mo-chan too.”
Kero-chan grumbled, “I don’t get why everyone’s fawning over that betrayer spying manju creature. I’m much cuter. And I have a much better figure.”
“You don’t look very surprised with the identity of Chang Eron’s patron spirit,” remarked Tomoyo to Eriol.
“We’ve met before,” replied Clow Reed’s reincarnation offhandedly.
******
Friday…
Friday came and the entire school was in a state of panic that the cultural festival was the next day, and there was yet so much left to be done.
“Oh no, Shiefa’s coming this way,” groaned Syaoran, handing the stack of Cinderella promotional fliers to Sakura. “Stall her. Tell her that I have soccer practice.”
“Syaoran!” exclaimed Shiefa. “Guess what I found in your shoe locker?” She held up a pink envelope. “I think it’s a love letter!”
Sakura gasped, immediately recognizing the envelope. Syaoran must not have spotted it yesterday amid all the chaos with the window shattering and Leiyun getting injured.
“Oh, who is it from?” asked Fuutie, peering over Shiefa’s shoulder. “Open it up.”
“Hoe! It must be a private letter for Syaoran—are you sure it’s okay for you to open it up?” asked Sakura, glancing at Syaoran helplessly. But Syaoran didn’t seem to care, or perhaps he was too accustomed to this and knew it was futile to protest.
“We always read all of Syaoran’s letters,” said Shiefa, unfolding the sheet of paper. “Let’s see. Dear Syaoran.” And she paused.
“Well, continue,” said Fuutie.
“I can’t read the rest—everything is crossed out after that,” said Shiefa, holding up a pink sheet of paper with heavy lines crossing out every single word written on the page. “Maybe it’s code? It’s not even signed.”
Sakura realized to her horror and relief she must have enveloped a draft version of her letter the other night. She laughed nervously and said, “It seems like a prank.”
“Of course,” said Shiefa heaving a sigh, throwing the letter into the trash can. “Our grumpy little brother won’t have some cute secret admirer.”
Meilin snickered as she realized Sakura must have enveloped the wrong letter and remarked, “Syaoran’s pretty popular in sports circles though.”
And sure enough a file of soccer team members passed by, all greeting Syaoran with a 90 degree bow. “Li-senpai! We look forward to seeing your play tomorrow!”
“Li-senpai, you promised to show us your dragon twister kick once the cultural festival is over!” called out another freshman teammate.
“Li-senpai, introduce us to your beautiful sisters!” But Syaoran shooed the underclassmen away.
“Japanese high school boys are so cute,” remarked Shiefa, clutching her hands to her cheeks blissfully as she gazed around at the group of boys in their navy and white soccer uniforms pass by. “I wish I can take one or two back home with me to Hong Kong.”
“They are adorable, aren’t they?” sighed Fuutie. “I love all the sweaty teenage boys in shorts and cleats.”
“So, which one of these boys is your boyfriend, Meilin?” asked Shiefa, hooking her arm around her younger cousin’s neck.
Meilin choked and replied, “None of them!”
“Too bad. That Yamazaki Takashi is wonderful,” said Shiefa, glancing over at the tall, smiling boy with cropped black hair pasting fliers on the bulletin boards.
Meilin nearly choked again and said, “I’m pretty sure that’s because you don’t really understand properly what he’s saying.” Takashi was telling a group of gaping freshmen that the school ghosts would come tear down all the decorations and posters overnight if they didn’t prepare customized festival invitations for them in the restrooms.
Shiefa told her cousin solemnly, “Meilin, I minored in Japanese in college. I’m pretty sure I’ve mastered the language better than you have. Don’t you find Yamazaki-kun completely engaging and charming?”
“Not at all,” said Meilin with a shudder. “Besides, he already has a longtime girlfriend.”
“I know. Chiharu-chan,” said Fuutie. “She reminds me a lot of our Feimei. We should invite Feimei and Fanren to Japan next time. Too bad they couldn’t make it because of university. They were completely bummed they couldn’t join us, you know.”
Both Meilin and Syaoran shuddered vehemently at the thought of all four sisters being in Japan simultaneously.
“Say, Meilin, what do you think of your classmate Mizuki Kai?” asked Shiefa.
“W-who would be attracted to that delinquent?” stammered Meilin, caught off guard.
“What are you talking about Meilin?” said Fuutie. “Plenty of girls would be enticed by him, and the bad boy types have always been popular.”
“I thought you don’t like him?” squeaked Meilin.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t change that he’s still hot—have you seen him shirtless?” remarked Shiefa. “Though wearing sunglasses indoors is such a turn-off. Does he think he’s a celebrity or something?”
Meilin caught herself nodding her head before demanding, “Wait, why have you seen him shirtless?”
“Last night,” replied Shiefa. “He sleeps in his boxers.”
Fuutie said solemnly, “It’s okay, Meilin, you don’t have to hide it anymore.”
Meilin swallowed hard. “Hide what?”
“About Kai,” said Shiefa.
Meilin coughed, wondering if the sisters had found out about her relationship with the former thief. “What?”
“We know already,” said Fuutie. “That Syaoran and Kai are an item.”
Shiefa nodded. “We first thought that there might be going on between Syaoran and Sakura, but it was clear that they have a very clearly professional relationship. But between Syaoran and Kai, there are sparks. Do you see how intently that Mizuki boy stares at our Syaoran?”
“Haven’t you considered Kai and I might have something going on?” asked Meilin feebly.
“We know that you are pretending to date him to cover Syaoran’s relationship with him,” said Fuutie. “But it’s clear he only has eyes for Syaoran. It’s rather sweet. I wouldn’t necessary choose someone like Kai for Syaoran, but if it’s true love, even Mother will have to accept it.”
Tomoyo and Sakura clutched their stomachs and reeled over, despite Syaoran glaring at them.
Meilin blinked slowly, trying to process the idea, then recalled Tomoyo’s super special feature film, “The Forbidden Trials of Small Wolf and the Nefarious Thief of the Night.” In fact, she had never seen Syaoran get along so well with a guy his own age before. And they lived next doors to each other.
Kai, sucking on a lollipop and listening to his headphones, walked past just then, oblivious to the conversation going on. Meilin ran up to him and grabbed him by his shirt collars. “Kai!” she exclaimed, shaking him. “Is it true? Are you really dating Syaoran behind my back?”
“I am?” And Kai glanced up at Sakura and Tomoyo smothering giggles, a glowering Syaoran, and his two smirking older sisters. Over the brim of his sunglasses, he winked a periwinkle blue eye at Sakura. He swerved toward Syaoran, with outspread arms, and declared dramatically, “My darling, the cat is out of the bag. We no longer have to hide our love from the world any more!”
Syaoran shoved away Kai with one palm while Meilin gasped in shock, his sisters squealed, and Tomoyo filmed a wonderful climax to the sequel to “The Forbidden Trials of Small Wolf and the Nefarious Thief of the Night.”
******
“We have two hours to use the auditorium before the light music club comes in, let’s make the best use of the time!” called out Tomoyo through a hot pink megaphone procured for her by Kai, kicking off the final Cinderella rehearsal.
Somehow, the cast muddled through the first four acts, much to the credit of Erika who managed to move the scenes along where Jinyu seemed to have forgotten his lines. And she was bossy enough that nobody else dared miss their cues. And finally, they opened the last act.
“It fits perfectly,” said Prince Jinyu monotonously, sliding on a gym sneaker as a makeshift glass slipper onto Erika’s foot.
“N-no way our Cinderella was the mysterious beautiful princess from the ball!” exclaimed Meilin, fanning herself furiously as a very convincing stepsister.
Stepmother Kara said, “How could that soot-covered Cinderella have disguised herself so well, masquerading as a princess, dancing right in front of us our eyes?”
Sakura, the replacement stepsister, asked, “Don’t tell me our Cinderella is really going to marry the Prince then?”
“Oh my gosh, we actually got through the whole script in one go—it’s the first time! I guess Erika is a better actor than Eron-kun, being able to pull along Jinyu-senpai like that,” exclaimed Naoko. “Now, it’s the final proposal scene.”
Jinyu looked up at the director, Tomoyo. “What next?”
“Well, I guess now is the part where you need to kiss Erika,” said Tomoyo dubiously because they had never actually made it this far in the script before.
“Wait, that’s not in the script!” exclaimed Erika.
Tomoyo blinked. “Oh, we didn’t want to scare Eron-kun off. But of course there is a kiss scene at the end. It’s a happily ever after fairytale, after all.”
Erika blinked up at Jinyu. She was sure he would refuse or be taken aback, but instead, Jinyu asked, “Should I go ahead?”
“Uh, well, I guess,” said Tomoyo. She had thought Jinyu would be like his cousin. Syaoran had been clearly flustered for his kiss scene all throughout rehearsals for the Star-Crossed musical and only pulled through the opening night. “Can we take it slowly, so that the lighting crew can adjust the spotlight? Please lead Cinderella to the center of the stage, and wait for the strings to come in.”
The light around them dimmed, and Erika found the glaring spotlight on her. Jinyu bent over and she could see the how black his lashes were up close, and his right eye, usually hidden by his long bangs, were staring down at her. Was she supposed to close her eyes or tilt her head up, since he was considerably taller than her? What was she supposed to do with her hands? And how could he be so nonchalant about this all? But he simply lifted her chin with the crook of his forefinger, forcing her head up, and bent over.
There were quite a few squeals from onlookers.
The moment she felt his lips brush against hers, Erika balked and placed both her palms on his chest, pushing him back. He stepped back and stared down at her expressionlessly.
Erika had dated many boys since junior high, some in her grade, mostly older guys, but none of them left her feeling quite this flustered, not even the dashing photographer Mike Kant. It must be the spotlight, she told herself. This couldn’t even be considered a real kiss. But she was sure she was palpitating. She had completely underestimated him because he was a cyborg. But he definitely was the Dragon King. Just because he wasn’t interested didn’t mean that women did not throw themselves at him. She recalled Wu Zilai and how women supposedly draped themselves around Li Jinyu because he was the head of the triads. It had been a disturbing image she couldn’t get out of her head. For him, a kiss was something impersonal, that he didn’t bat an eyelash over. Well, she didn’t either.
“Sorry, was that too quick?” asked Jinyu.
Erika didn’t know if the question was directed at her or at Tomoyo.
“I can’t believe you really did it,” Erika hissed, ears flaming beet red.
“The director girl told me to,” replied Jinyu.
“There’s going to be children in the audience you know—this is a family-friendly cultural festival,” she declared.
“So, I’m not actually supposed to kiss you?” he asked, clearly puzzled.
Tomoyo finally spoke. “It was fine—but I mean, with the angle, when your heads are close enough, it looks like you are kissing, so you don’t actually physically have to do it.”
Jinyu nodded. “I see.” He bent over again, this time halting just an inch away from Erika’s face, head turned from the audience.
Erika held her breath as she was forced to keep her chin up because his fingers were under her chin again. “Like this?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s good. Now, can you place your left hand on Cinderella’s waist?” said Tomoyo.
And Erika felt his hard hand wrap around her waist and automatically sucked in her breath.
“Lighting crew, can we have a warmer tone light?” called out Tomoyo. “Okay and here, the confetti would shower down and orchestra, we can play the wedding march. Sorry, Prince and Cinderella, can you hold the pose a little longer? Lighting is having some difficult focusing the spotlight.”
This was actually worse than a kiss, which was momentary. Though she had been able to hold it in earlier, Erika could feel a flush creep up her cheeks, infuriating because he stared down at her stone-faced, maybe even a little bored, as red, blue, orange and violet light showered down on them. Hopefully the pink lighting hid that she was crimson-faced. She could hear tittering in the audience.
“Okay, cut!” Tomoyo exclaimed. “Perfect. Now, let’s just do it exactly like this tomorrow!”
Naoko rolled her eyes. “This is not a film. You don’t have to cut the scene.”
“Yes, I mean, curtains!” said Tomoyo with a wave of her fingers.
“Now, wasn’t that the steamiest kiss scene in a school play ever?” said Chiharu with a sigh.
“Yeah, I thought Jinyu-senpai would refuse. But he looks like an awfully experienced kisser,” said Naoko, touching her lips. “I wonder if he’s had a lot of girlfriends. He seems like the dangerous type, and I guess girls are always weak for dangerous boys. I never thought I’d see a day where Erika is the one who looks flustered. She’s had heaps of boyfriends.”
“None of her relationships seem to last long,” remarked Chiharu. “And I don’t think Erika’s dated anyone since that American photographer, what was his name again?”
“Mike Kant—now he was very handsome and suave, I remember,” said Naoko.
“You think everyone’s hot,” said Rika. “I wonder what kind of person Naoko-chan will actually end up falling in love with.”
Sakura chuckled. “Someone extraordinary, I’m sure.”
As Erika came down from the stage, Eron fumed, “You let him kiss you. He dared to kiss you in public.”
Erika rolled her eyes. “Stop being such a prude. It was in the script. And aren’t you glad I’m the one on the stage? It could have been you.”
At this, Eron blanched.
“Ah, I would have loved to see that,” continued Erika. “I don’t think it would have made a difference to Jinyu, you or me. Knowing the Black Dragon, he would have had no problem kissing you smack on the lips, since it’s in the script. He’s an expert at following directions, that cyborg mafia king.”
“I really hope you aren’t falling for him or something stupid like that,” said Eron. “He’s a calculating Li, same as the rest of them.”
“Of course I wont, and no, he’s not,” said Erika. “He’s different. After all,
he was abandoned, like us, until Leiyun took him in.”
“He is a triad boss,” said Eron.
“Well we’re the cursed Dark Ones of legends,” said Erika. “At least he has some sort of honor code to go by.”
“I wouldn’t have let you play Cinderella, if I’d known this was the way he was going to be.”
“Well your loss,” said Erika. “He’s a good kisser, too.”
“That’s not the point!”
Tomoyo gave final directions to the cast. “Good job everybody!” she called out. “Let’s call it a wrap. Rest well tonight, and do just as well tomorrow as you did in the rehearsal today!”
“So, this is it. Tomorrow, all would be over,” said Leiyun, having walked up from the orchestra pit to the front row of the auditorium. “Nervous?”
“Yes, as my plays have never gone as planned,” remarked Tomoyo solemnly.
“There’s no fun if everything goes according to plan,” said Leiyun with a thin smile.
“Well, ‘if all the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players,’ then I would hope my stage is splendid and beautiful even if it always ends up getting ruined,” said Tomoyo.
“Ever a Bohemian at heart,” he remarked. “To finish off that sonnet: ‘Last scene of all, that ends this strange eventful history; is second childishness and mere oblivion; sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.’ As for me, I prefer a fantastic tragedy. All the great operas are tragedies, after all.”
Tomoyo gazed up at Leiyun, whom she hadn’t pinned to be the type to quote Shakespeare. And yet, he had constantly surprised her these past weeks. “I don’t mind a tragic finale, so long as it’s grand and fantastic, and I have great orchestration backing it up.”
And Leiyun chuckled at this. “Merciless girl. You can make such careless remarks because you are the director and not a partaker.”
“But you are neither a player nor director, Leiyun-san,” remarked Tomoyo. “Does that make you a spectator?”
“If that’s what you choose to call me, then, spectator I shall be,” said Leiyun.
“And as a spectator, what do you want to see?” she asked.
“I told you already. I want to be surprised,” murmured Leiyun. “Surprise me, Tomoyo.”
“I imagine it will be hard to surprise the likes of you,” remarked Tomoyo pensively. “By the way, I didn’t get to thank you properly, the other day. For saving me.”
“I didn’t do it to hear your thanks,” Leiyun said briskly. “Well, get on home and get some beauty sleep instead of nitpicking all the details till midnight. All that could be done to prepare had been done. And the rest is up to the Fates.” He stood up.
She would have not noticed him wince ever so slightly had she not seen specks of crimson seep through the back of his white button down shirt. She had thought he had looked a bit uncomfortable during rehearsal earlier. “Li-sensei, you’re bleeding through your bandages.”
“Darned, I’m wearing a white shirt,” said Leiyun. “Wei’s going to throw a fuss about the stain.”
“Are you okay?” she asked, thinking something was wrong with the man if he thought about laundry when he was injured.
“Throw me my jacket over there,” he said.
And Tomoyo handed him his navy blazer folded over the back of the auditorium chair. He didn’t look very good, but then again, he always had a pallid complexion. “You’re in pain.”
“Yeah, I ran out of painkillers that Jingmei left me,” said Leiyun. “The stuff that they give the students is useless, or I would’ve raided the medicine cabinet already.”
“Can’t you do something about it?” Tomoyo said.
“Don’t worry, this won’t hinder my performance tomorrow during the cultural festival,” said Leiyun.
“Why don’t you use your powers on yourself, like you did for my leg?”
“What makes you think I used my powers on you?” asked Leiyun. “Didn’t I tell you before I don’t waste my powers on the unnecessary? Besides, pain is welcome. After being frozen in a block of ice for centuries, any sensation is welcome.”
“I thought it was five years,” said Tomoyo.
Leiyun glanced down at her with a thin smile. “Time flows different in the Cavern of Reservoirs, for it’s a different dimension from here.”
“Interesting. I wish I could visit different dimensions,” murmured Tomoyo.
“Of course you would,” said Leiyun. “Be careful what you wish for. I thought I would like to see that place too. I overestimated my powers. And consequently, I never escaped from it again.”
“Until Kara Reed came to save you,” said Tomoyo.
“Until she did,” he said, in a gentler tone than before.
“What did you do?” Tomoyo asked. “While you were locked in that place?”
“Watch all of you guys. And more,” replied Leiyun with a smile.
“Very voyeuristic,” replied Tomoyo.
“Says the girl who’s always filming others.”
Tomoyo asked, “Don’t you regret the time lost to you?”
“What’s the use of regretting something that is already gone,” said Leiyun. “I do not see it as time lost to me, for during that period, I did a lot of self-reflection and learned a lot about myself. That I am not as intelligent, invulnerable, or influential as I thought I was, in the bigger scale of the universe.”
“Us normal people learn that at a pretty early age,” said Tomoyo with a mischievous glint in her eye.
He smiled thinly. “I see, perhaps I wasted my time after all.”
“I think your sense of loyalty to your family is impressive,” remarked Tomoyo softly. “I would think if I was robbed of several years of my adolescence, an irreversible period of my life, separated from my loved ones, I would want to be completely selfish and do everything for myself. Instead, you returned to the very family that sent you there.”
“And you call that loyalty?” asked Leiyun, raising a pale brow. “I say, I had nowhere else to return to, and I am merely watching clan politics from the sidelines. My father calls me an idle sycophant, and he may be right in that I may simply be an opportunist.”
“You chose to be the other one. You didn’t want to become the Chosen One or the Great Elder,” said Tomoyo. “You chose to be in the sidelines, not the forefront in the Li Clan. Why?”
“Why do you choose to hide behind your camera lens?” asked Leiyun. “You are equally if not more beautiful and talented than anything you film, I believe. But you are like me. You enjoy observing, the cinematographic beauty of it all.”
******
After rehearsal ended, Sakura and her friends sat crouched backstage, peering over a huge blueprint of the entire auditorium spread out on the floor, courtesy of Kai, as they ran through every emergency scenario for tomorrow.
“The auditorium has a maximum capacity of 700 seats, and there are six exits,” said Kai, marking the doors with a pink highlighter. “Backstage, there will always be one of us available to keep watch during the play. In the audience, Touya-san, Yukito-san and Nakuru-san will keep watch for unusual activity. Eriol on piano will be able to serve as liaison to convey any messages backstage.”
“Is this really necessary?” Eron, foot in cast, asked dryly. “Erika and Leiyun seem even more excited about Gotherella than us.”
“We have uncovered the Dark One’s mysterious patron spirit,” said Miho. “But we’re no closer to figuring out what was behind the strange fires.”
“So, there is an unnatural spirit, most likely not a dark force, that is causing these demon fires,” said Sakura. “We think it’s taking the shape of a white tiger, but this is not the same White Tiger that is Wu Zino’s alternate form.”
“It must be Leiyun’s kitten,” declared Miho. “There’s something off about that creature.”
“But Byakko-chan was not there in the auditorium on the day of the fire,” said Meilin. “Nor was it up on Mount Kumatori.”
“We don’t know about Mount Kumatori—Leiyun was up there, remember,” pointed out Eron. “Hence the kitten could have been there too.”
“But back during the backstage fire in the auditorium, Byakko-chan definitely wasn’t around,” said Sakura.
Erika heaved a long sigh, standing over the group huddled on the floor. “Well, obviously the fire backstage during rehearsal was me. I was the only one back there, after all, and that was a real fire that burned down everything.”
“What are you doing here?” demanded Miho. “Why are you spying on us?”
“I’m not the stupid one holding a meeting backstage at school,” said Erika. “I was just locking up my costumes so that nobody trashes them overnight. And your guys’ emergency plan is pointless, I’m not going to attack a play that I’m the heroine of.”
And amid the shock of Erika’s appearance, it took a moment for everybody to register her ready confession about setting the fire backstage last week.
“Is what you said true?” Eron stared at his younger twin in disbelief. “Are you daft? Why in the world would you have set the fire backstage?”
“For your sake of course!” Erika shot back. “The play was horrible, Jinyu was hopeless, and I felt sorry for you. I thought we could end the play once and for all and save you the humiliation of being associated with a flop.”
“But you and Jinyu-san were trapped together in the dressing room!” exclaimed Sakura.
“Well, that idiot Black Dragon refused to leave me alone. I would have slipped out slyly if he weren’t there searching for that stupid cat of Leiyun’s,” replied Erika. “And I sort of fainted, I guess, because of the smoke. Carelessness on my part.”
To the shock of the group, Eron slapped Erika across her face in one swift stroke. “You idiot. Don’t risk your life pulling such useless pranks. You don’t even know how to control your powers properly. What would you have done if you weren’t able to escape? Or if Jinyu wasn’t there with you, and you had a seizure and nobody could find you?”
Touching her stinging cheek, Erika said tearfully, “Well, I obviously knew you were out there and would come find me!”
Eron snapped, “Aren’t you getting too old to always be dependent on me? There’s going to be a day when I won’t be there. And honestly, I’m sick of putting up with your childish whims all the time!”
Erika’s jaw dropped. “Well, I never asked you to put up with me. I hate you, Chang Eron!”
At this, Eron wobbled on his crutches and sank to his knees as if his soul had been sapped out of him.
Kai whistled lowly. “Wow, even those two fight sometimes. Miho-chan, seeing the other siblings around us, don’t you think we have a beautiful brother-sister relationship?”
Miho rolled her eyes. “I’ve already learned to give up on my moronic brother years ago. I have absolutely no expectation from you. Makes life much simpler for me.”
“Ouch, that stings,” declared Kai, clutching his heart.
“That’s why, there are times you can still impress me,” added Miho, with a lopsided grin. “Like that other night at Mount Kumatori. I admit, you were kind of cool then.”
Meilin remarked as Kai babbled happily at the rare praise from precious little sister, “Get a grip, oaf of a brother. You are embarrassing to watch.”
Sakura said to Eron softly, “You were a little harsh on Erika, don’t you think?”
Eron replied, “I shouldn’t have hit her, I know. But she infuriates me so much. She’s so reckless and impulsive, I get the feeling she never thinks anything through. And I know it’s my fault. I made her that way. I always made all the decisions, and she followed with what I chose. I made her reliant on me. Because of her weak heart, I was bent on protecting her, so I sheltered her, pampered her, letting her do whatever she pleased. I regret it now.”
“Surely she knows that too,” said Sakura.
“The reason why I let her side with Leiyun is because that’s the first thing she ever chose for herself in her life,” said Eron. “I don’t like Leiyun. But Erika, she chose to be with him. She stood up to me. I want her to be able to make her own choices, no matter how dumb they are, and bear the consequences herself.”
Sakura smiled lopsidedly. “I wish my brother was as considerate as you. He thinks I’m incapable of making my own decisions and wants to dictate everything about my life.”
“Well, I give it to your brother, he’s usually right,” said Eron solemnly. “See, I don’t really think the choices I make are that much better than Erika’s.”
With a pout, Sakura said, “Everybody always takes my brother’s side. Even Yukito-san and Syaoran. Nobody’s ever on my side.”
“Because it’s easy to see he has your best interests at heart,” said Eron. “Though I admit I’m partial because Touya-san’s the only person that prefers me to Syaoran.”
“So the real fire backstage was deliberate, by Erika-senpai,” said Miho. “That doesn’t explain the one in the King Penguin Park forest and up on Mount Kumatori. Nor the shattering of the glass which injured Li-sensei and Tomoyo-senpai.”
Erika heaved a long sigh. “You lot are so dense. No wonder you get nothing done. The window shattering is obviously the work of the Glass—Tomoyo probably set the dark force loose when she poked around in the storage room, where it had been sealed, making her the constant target. You guys set it loose, so you guys seal it, I won’t have it interfering with my performance. And I bet the demon fire is being triggered by Syaoran’s crazy sister Fuutie who is targeting Jinyu for killing her boyfriend. Do something about Fuutie, and the fires would stop and this ghostly White Tiger creature will disappear.”
“Erika does have a point. Maybe the Black Dragon should just sit down and have a good long talk with Fuutie,” remarked Kai.
“It’s not that simple,” said Meilin. “And it’s not the Black Dragon’s fault.”
“What makes you say that?” Sakura asked.
“Zian doesn’t blame Jinyu for what happened,” said Meilin.
“That’s ridiculous,” said Kai. “If your own brother was killed by someone from the enemy’s camp, wouldn’t you want vengeance? I’m sure Wu Zian is just biding his time to get back at Jinyu for his older brother.”
Meilin shook her head. “No, that’s not the case. Zino apparently was being consumed by a family curse. He was going to die or lose his mind completely. Only Jinyu and Zian knew that. At that time, the Tang Clan was vying to conquer Zino and take over the Hong Kong triads. Zino asked Jinyu to be the one to kill him and also secure the alliance between the Li and Wu triads. That would make Jinyu the de facto leader and avoid a repeat of the triad feuds of the last decade.”
“Why wasn’t his younger brother Wu Zian made head of the triads?” asked Miho.
“Because Zian had to be protected and become the Wu Clan head,” said Meilin. “He was the Wu Clan’s remaining heir. Jinyu was asked to be Zian’s shield, essentially, because the triad boss is the constant target of assassination attempts.”
Kai frowned. “Well, if you knew about this whole curse business, why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“I only found out recently from Zian myself,” Meilin mumbled.
“What, you’re still keeping in touch with that sleazy Leopard boy?” demanded Kai. “Why?”
Meilin replied testily, “I wanted answers, and he is the one person who would know—besides Jinyu. And I regretted bringing it up to him afterward. How awful it would be to see your own brother killed in front of your own eyes. That or see him turn into some sort of monster.”
“Was he there when Zino was killed?” asked Kai.
“No,” said Meilin. “Not when it happened, but right afterwards.”
“What kind of curse exactly was it?” asked Miho.
“You guys know the Li Clan sealed a contract with the Dragon to receive protection for our family,” said Meilin.
Sakura nodded. “Your ancestor, Li Dairon, made a deal with the Blue Dragon, Celes, to build the most powerful magical clan in China. Which is how the Great Elder test in the Dragon Isles came around.”
“That is right,” said Meilin, somewhat taken aback that Sakura knew such details. “The Wu Clan signed a similar contract after finding out the Li Clan’s secret to its power.”
“With the White Tiger,” murmured Sakura.
“Yes, but it was a much more unfavorable sort of deal. It turned out to be more of a curse than a blessing,” said Meilin.
“How so?” asked Tomoyo.
“Following the principle of equivalent exchange, the White Tiger allegedly asked for a Wu heir as a sacrifice to reincarnate itself in, as a human vessel,” said Meilin. “Subsequently, every generation, a male of the Wu Clan after his 18th birthday, the Chosen One, would begin to lose control over his body over to the White Tiger. He would eventually degenerate from a human to a beast over the course of the next decade. Most of descendants could not bear the power of a deity in his body—and the process would drive them to insanity. Consequently, either the Chosen One of the Wu Clan would have to be locked away, as he degenerated into a beast, to prevent him from harming others. Or, the merciful option was to appoint someone to kill him, but that also was a daunting task for the person chosen to carry out the feat. So, often, many Wu male descendants who realized he was the Cursed One, would end his own life.”
“And Fuutie-san didn’t know about this curse,” murmured Sakura.
“I’m not sure,” said Meilin. “It is a very heavily guarded secret—it would be a fatal weakness for the Wu Clan should the story get out.”
“Why did Zian reveal such an important family secret to you?” asked Kai.
“I may or may not have blackmailed him,” muttered Meilin.
“Surely, if Fuutie-nee-san understood all this, she might be able to forgive Li Jinyu,” said Sakura.
Tomoyo said softly, “But I sort of get it. Forgiving the Black Dragon would be letting go of her last remaining link to Wu Zino.”
“Because forgiving means letting go,” said Kai.
Sakura told Eron gravely as she helped him down the stage stairs, “You know Erika-chan’s sulking there in the corner sticking dressing pins into a voodoo doll of you.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to Erika later,” Eron said with a crooked smile.
“What do you make of this whole curse business with the White Tiger and the Wu Clan?” asked Sakura. “Do you think that it’s the reason that Jinyu had to kill Wu Zino?”
“I think there is a fine line between a curse and a blessing,” replied Eron. “What made the wicked sorceress’ gift to the Sleeping Beauty so different from her Godmothers’ spells?”
“The intention,” replied Sakura. “The godmothers truly wanted to help the baby Princess Aurora, while the sorceress despised her existence.”
“The Wu Clan gained wealth, power, and the ability to become the third strongest family in Hong Kong through its contract with the Wu Clan,” said Eron. “Some would say that one male each generation is enough of a price to pay. Some have called Erika and I the ‘cursed twins.’ The orphanage head thought so when Erika came back from what was sure death in the surgery room. And I know to you, the Dark Ones are only evil. There are times I too loathe Chang Ruichi-sama for this curse he has put on all of us. But then, there are times I am grateful to him, for giving Erika a chance at life, for bringing me to you. I probably shouldn’t say something like this, as a member of your alliance.”
Sakura shook her head. “Clow Reed was the one who taught me that there is no clear divide between good and evil.”
“Is that why you believed me when nobody else did that I didn’t cause those fires?”
Sakura blinked. “No, it’s because you asked me to believe you.”
“That’s all it takes?” Eron asked. “Aren’t you too trusting?”
“You trusted in me first, by joining the Alliance,” replied Sakura. “You’re the one who broke the curse yourself, weren’t you?”
******
“Syaoran! Were you waiting for me?” exclaimed Sakura, catching her breath, walking up the bleacher steps, startled to find Syaoran was standing by the bleacher steps, hands in pocket, staring down at the soccer field which was cleared for the bonfire dance tomorrow. More than anything, she hoped she would be able to dance with Syaoran when they lit up the bonfire on the field.
He replied, “Yeah, it looked like you’ve been wanting to say something to me all week long. What is it?”
Caught off guard, she cleared her throat and clenched her fingers into a tight ball, realizing this was her opportunity. “Syaoran, there is something I want to tell you. Syaoran, you see.” She swallowed hard and started again. “Syaoran, I—” At that moment, Syaoran’s phone began ringing.
With a sigh, Syaoran reached into his pocket and silenced his phone, clearly distracted.
“You don’t have to pick it up?” asked Sakura.
“It’s probably one of my sisters wanting me to make a spa appointment,” replied Syaoran. “You were saying?”
But another phone began buzzing from his back pocket.
“It seems pretty urgent,” Sakura pointed out.
“Yeah.” Syaoran picked up his phone and checked the Caller ID. “It’s my sister, Shiefa. Sorry, can you excuse me for a second?”
She saw his expression change as he listened, and Syaoran said, “I’ll be right there,” before hanging up abruptly. “Sakura, sorry, I’ve got to go.”
Sakura didn’t even have to wait to get an answer.
Kara Reed stomped up the bleacher to the pair. “There you are, Syaoran! Can you believe what your idiot of a sister has done? She challenged the Black Dragon to a duel! Hurry along, Leiyun already took off.”
“I’ve heard. What was the trigger?” said Syaoran.
Kara shook her head. “She was just waiting for us all to be distracted with final preparations for the cultural festival and snuck off to challenge Jinyu. Hurry along, they’re near King Penguin Park.”
Sakura followed after them.
“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Kara.
“I’m going, too, since it’s a matter of a dark force,” stated Sakura.
“It’s a triad matter. Outsiders need to stay out of triad business,” retorted Kara.
“Syaoran is not a member of the triads either,” replied Sakura.
Kara’s eyes narrowed. “Who do you think is the biggest financer of the underground organizations in Hong Kong?”
Sakura’s stomach lurched. No matter how much she wanted to separate Syaoran with the lurid activities of the Li Clan, Syaoran was the Li Clan now as its Great Elder. “I’m going.”
Syaoran, who had finally gotten off another phone call with Leiyun, replied shortly, “Of course you are. Who else is going to seal the Wrath once and for all? I need you, Sakura.”
Her breath was caught in her chest. Syaoran needed her. She never thought she would hear him say that.
“Stop blushing, and move it,” snapped Kara, shoving Sakura along unceremoniously. “No wonder Kai’s always stuck babysitting you two fluff balls.”
The three of them sprinted along through the back forest, a shortcut to King Penguin Park that Sakura generally had avoided because Touya once told her it was haunted back when she was in elementary school.
She would not have been able to locate them in the dark woods after nightfall, but Syaoran, with his rasinban easily tracked down his oldest sister. And they were hard to miss, with Fuutie, dressed in a long-sleeved cobalt blue cheongsam with white trousers, sword drawn, facing Jinyu in a similar black cheongsam with golden embroidery in the center of a clearing.
Shiefa and Erika stood at one end anxiously. To Sakura’s surprise, Meilin, Tomoyo, Kai, Miho, and Eriol were also present.
Leiyun turned to Syaoran and said, “Good, you’re here. Go talk some sense into your sister. She won’t listen to me.”
Syaoran turned to Leiyun. “Why do you think she would listen to me if she wouldn’t listen to you? Tell Jinyu to stop the duel this instant!”
“You know he can’t, unless the challenger withdraws,” replied Leiyun.
“Does she have a death wish? Does she even know what it means to challenge the mafia king to a duel?” snapped Kara. “Challenging the head of the Hong Kong triads to a duel only means one of two things. That the Black Dragon is killed and a new triad head is named, or that you get killed instead.”
“Why did Jinyu accept the duel?” demanded Erika.
Kara said impatiently, “The Black Dragon doesn’t have a choice. He has to accept duels—it’s their law. But most people do not have a death wish and wouldn’t do something so foolhardy.”
Sakura whispered to her friends, “How did you get here even before us?”
Meilin snorted. “You’d think I’m family so I’d be told about something like this first, right? No. Tomoyo of course found out first. She was reviewing final stage directions with Leiyun when he got the phone call from Shiefa.”
“You can’t just tag along,” said Syaoran, heaving a sigh. “I told you to stay out of triad business.”
“Fuutie’s my cousin,” retorted Meilin. “I’m worried about her too.”
“And the others?”
“Kai helped me track Fuutie down,” muttered Meilin. “And the other three got excited about the prospects of a mafia duel or something.”
Shiefa turned to Leiyun fearfully. “Fuutie is no match for Jinyu, you know that.”
“Don’t underestimate your sister,” said Leiyun.
Fuutie, facing the Black Dragon, finally spoke. “I’ve been waiting for this day. You can’t run from me anymore. This is for Zino and for myself. These past two years, all I could think of us was the day that I can seek justice.” And she dashed forward with her gleaming blade, straight on.
Erika exclaimed to Kara, “Jinyu’s not dodging, he’s going to get skewered!”
Perhaps Fuutie was not accustomed to the weight of the sword—which seemed to belong to Jinyu—or she had not expected no resistance at all, and she narrowly missed stabbing the Black Dragon. She turned around and swung the sword again, and he again did not dodge, and her blade halted an inch away from slicing his throat.
“Fight me, Black Dragon. Don’t just stand there pretending to be honorable. Don’t look down on me! I was Chosen One Li Ryuuren’s first pupil!” shouted Fuutie.
“He didn’t fight back last time, he wouldn’t fight her this time either,” remarked Leiyun.
“That’s just stupid. He should defeat her and put her in place, putting an end to this affair once and for all,” stated Erika.
“I think he does want to put an end to this business, once and for all,” murmured Kara.
There was a clatter of blades, and suddenly, Fuutie knelt on the ground, Jinyu sprawled on his back on the ground. She pressed the edge of the narrow blade against his throat. “I’ve won, Black Dragon,” she hissed.
“Kill me, if it pleases you,” said Jinyu, staring back at her with unblinking eyes gleaming like garnet in the darkness. “I accept whatever judgment.” Fuutie lifted up the hilt of the sword with both hands, ready to stab him.
Sakura shut her eyes. But there was a clatter of the blade on the pavement, and when she opened her eyes again, she saw the sword had been cast aside.
“What good will that do? One life taken will not bring another gone.” And Fuutie collapsed at his feet, staring at the ground. “A letter, a last message from him, anything. What were his last words? Did he ask for me? Was he in pain, or was it quick, his final moments? Please, tell me anything, Jin.”
“There is nothing for me to say,” said Jinyu.
Fuutie said, “Are you telling me he really didn’t leave any message behind for me? Nothing at all?”
Jinyu did not meet her eye.
“Please. You are my last link to him,” whispered Fuutie. “You took him from me. It’s the least you can do. Give me any sort of sign from him, I beg of you.”
“I don’t ask for forgiveness,” said Jinyu, shutting his eyes.
“Well I won’t forgive you, ever,” replied Fuutie, wiping the tears flowing down her cheeks. “So long as you are alive, it will be a living proof that he is not. Why? Why was it you who got to be with him in his final moments and not me?”
Erika frowned. “Why doesn’t Jinyu just tell her what she wants to hear? Isn’t
that that the kinder choice? Why doesn’t he just give her the closure she
wants?”
Leiyun sighed. “Because he’s a man of his words.”
“She’s given up on killing the Black Dragon?” asked Miho.
Sakura frowned. “But I didn’t seal the Wrath.”
“I don’t think Fuutie will ever be able to truly forgive Jinyu,” said Meilin. “This duel was her last attempt to find an excuse to forgive him, I think.”
Syaoran remarked, “She never got proper closure. That’s why the vision of the White Tiger is still haunting her now, I believe.”
“If she needs closure, I can give it to her. I can use the Illusion and let her say her final words to him,” said Sakura.
But Syaoran shook her head. “No. That would still be a temporary solution. Because the Illusion is just an illusion at the end of the day.”
“But she wouldn’t have to know that,” said Sakura.
“It may work on some, but Fuutie’s sharp,” said Syaoran. “A lie could only scar her worse.”
“Then how can we give Fuutie-nee-san closure?” asked Sakura.
“Only time heals,” said Syaoran, shutting his eyes. “And sometimes, even that is not enough.”
“Look, Fuutie’s acting strange,” remarked Meilin.
Fuutie’s eyes were misty and she said in a singsong voice. “So be it. Because there. There he is. He’s come for me. I can ask him myself.”
And the group looked up to see a ghostly white beast at the end of the path leading deeper into the forest.
“Zino,” said Fuutie, walking forward.
“No, Fuutie!” called out Syaoran, sword drawn.
“Fuutie, that is not Wu Zino,” said Leiyun.
“You saw at Mount Kumatori, didn’t you, Shiefa? It was Zino,” said Fuutie. “And I’m going to his side.
“Snap out of it, Fuutie. That’s not the White Tiger,” said Leiyun, reaching out for her. “You know it too—you recognize that creature for what it is. A lowly yokai that cannot be compared to the likes of the real White Tiger.”
“No,” said Fuutie, shaking off Leiyun’s grip. “Don’t take him from me a second time.” She ran toward the White Tiger, which swerved around and walked further in toward the forest.
“It’s like she’s possessed,” whispered Meilin.
“It’s a common story, a yokai that lures a human, to consume her,” remarked Kai. “It’s hungry for the raw energy she possesses.”
Syaoran dashed forward in front of Fuutie, shielding her, with his sword drawn.
The tiger roared, and a jet of blue flame encircled them. Syaoran waved his sword and the fire was put out with shower of water. He drew out an ofuda and began chanting, “Raitei shourai!” The lightening fizzled at the tip of his sword.
“What’s wrong?” Sakura asked him.
With a frown, Syaoran shook his head. “My powers have been feeling off since yesterday.”
And the beast contorted, shrinking in size, turning into a white kitten with large pale blue eyes. Startled, Syaoran drew back.
“Byakko-chan!” exclaimed Tomoyo.
The cat mewed, and Sakura too set down her staff, turning to Syaoran. “I don’t feel the presence of a yokai or a dark force from him.”
“Fuutie, you can see, what ever that creature is, it’s not your White Tiger,” said Syaoran slowly.
And the kitten slinked around Fuutie’s ankles and purred. She reached out and hugged the creature to her chest. “Are you trying to reassure me? He must be linked to Zino, somehow. Maybe he’s a messenger. Why else would he have appeared to me as a White Tiger?”
Syaoran gripped his sister by the shoulders. “Get a grip. He’s gone. Wu Zino is dead. That’s not him.”
“What do you know? What do you know about losing the person you love the most in the world?” demanded Fuutie in tears.
“I don’t know,” said Syaoran in a cracked voice. “But believe me, I do understand.”
She sought her brother’s amber eyes and nodded. For she did believe her younger brother. She pressed her lips on the kitten’s fur, tears flowing down her cheeks. And they saw the kitten bare its fangs, about to sink its teeth into Fuutie’s arm.
“Stand back, Fuutie!” said Leiyun. It was not a request but a command.
Leiyun swung out his hand released a slender blade with a silver tassel with a blue bead, pointing at the cat. The cat leapt out of Fuutie’s arms and hissed at Leiyun.
“No, wait! What are you doing, Leiyun-san!” exclaimed Sakura in horror as she finally understood Leiyun’s intention. “The cat is possessed by the yokai. You can’t hurt Byakko-chan!”
With one slash of his sword, Leiyun slashed at the cat. And the creature hissed and leapt back.
“Byakko-chan!” exclaimed Erika.
Fuutie collapsed onto her knees, Syaoran still gripping her shoulder. “Zino.”
“That isn’t Zino. You can see for yourself,” said Leiyun shortly. He raised his sword to the sky.
“No, stop that!” exclaimed Sakura. Leiyun in one clean swipe struck down at the white cat, which went limp. And a blue light dissipated from its body.
Fuutie lifted up the kitten and clasped its limp body to her chest in silence.
“How could you?” whispered Sakura, staring up at Leiyun, tears stinging in her eyes. “Byakko-chan was your pet!”
“Doing what you won’t do,” said Leiyun curtly. “Did that look like a mere pet kitten to you? It’s a demon that would have sapped away Fuutie’s powers, and there was no reason to hesitate.”
“You’re heartless,” said Sakura. “If Byakko-chan was possessed by a yokai, there would have been ways to exorcise the evil out of him—you didn’t have to kill him.”
“Perhaps,” said Leiyun. “But if you are going to become a successful Card Mistress, you’re going to be put in a situation where you will have to make choices when there is no right or wrong answer. Just the decision with less casualties.”
Sakura peered up at the older man. “Is that good enough for you? Because that’s not for me. How can you settle with the knowledge that you haven’t tried your hardest to protect what you love?”
“Because, when you’ve tried your hardest and still failed to protect what you’ve tried so hard to protect because of a lack of decisiveness, that turns into self-loathing and despair,” replied Leiyun. “Even Syaoran knows well about that—he’s suffered the past year for it.” He turned to Jinyu. “Focus, Jin. Make sure to cover up tracks and word of this duel does not get leaked.”
“Thank goodness this took place in Japan, not Hong Kong. We might be able to cover it up somehow,” said Kara. “If the challenge took place in Hong Kong, Fuutie’s life would be in the hands of the Black Dragon, the triads, and not even the Li Clan would be able to save her.”
“But he didn’t technically fight back, so wasn’t it a draw?” remarked Erika.
Kara shook her head. “That makes it worse—if word gets out that boss of the triads did not fight back in a duel, that he couldn’t defeat the opponent, then what does that make of the mafia? It would bring shame to the ruling order and be an open invitation for anybody to come and challenge the Black Dragon. Tomoyo, destroy any footage you have of today.”
Tomoyo said quietly, “I didn’t film anything today.”
“I don’t believe you. Hand over your camcorder,” said Kara, walking over to the younger girl.
And Tomoyo held her camcorder to her chest as Kara tried to snatch it away.
“Stop, Kara,” said Kai, stepping between the two girls. “Tomoyo doesn’t lie, and besides, she really wasn’t filming today. I was watching.”
“Fine, whatever,” said Kara with a shrug. “If anything gets leaked, it will be on you, Daidouji Tomoyo.”
Miho remarked, “What I don’t understand is if Byakko-chan—I mean that fox demon—was simply a yokai, then why did it follow Fuutie-nee-san around like that, and why did it take on that certain form? That of the White Tiger. How did it know?”
“Most likely with the assistance of a dark force that could feed off her memories,” said Syaoran.
“What kind of dark force is it that we wouldn’t be able to sense it?” asked Miho.
“It kind of reminds me of the Fantasy, which could feed off the memory of Miho’s photograph and use the Transform to become a completely convincing replica of Tanaka Mikai,” remarked Sakura slowly.
Syaoran nodded. “That makes sense. But I’m not aware of another high-level dark force like the Fantasy that can manipulate off of someone’s memories like that.”
“I can think of one. Ego,” murmured Eriol. “It’s a dark force that is a manifestation of one’s subconscious. That yokai was able to pray on that dark force and was able to get as powerful as it did, feeding on the emotions of guilt.”
Kai said, “The question is, whose subconscious was it?”
“It wasn’t Fuutie-san’s?” asked Sakura.
“No, if it was her subconscious, the White Tiger would not have attacked her, don’t you think?” said Eriol.
“I guess it’s most likely Jinyu’s subconscious and guilt, since he was the one killed Wu Zino,” said Meilin.
“Well guilt is driven by the conscience, which Freud describes as the struggle between the ego and the superego,” said Kai.
Sakura glanced between Jinyu and Leiyun.
Slowly, Fuutie stood up suddenly and turned around and faced the others. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize someone sent a notice out about the duel. I am sorry for causing a disturbance. I’m all right. I really will be.”
“You don’t have to be all right. It’s okay to hurt. It’s a sign that what you had was real,” said Syaoran. “No one can deny you that.”
Fuutie stared up at the crescent moon. “I first met him when I was around 10 years old. The age you were sent to Japan on a mission to capture the Clow Cards, Syaoran. It was shortly after Father died, far from home. Mother pretended to be all right, but she was not. You were too young to really know what was going on, but Feimei and Fanren cried a lot. So many people were in and out of our house to pay condolences, and I couldn’t bear being at home. So I ran away. I didn’t get too far, of course. Only went to see the ocean. I thought if I went into the sea, somehow, the water would take me to where Father was. For we were only told he was on a faraway mission overseas, but we knew not where he went or how he had died. They said his ashes were scattered in the ocean, but that was a lie because his body was never returned.”
And Sakura recalled Li Ryuuren at the brink of death lying in the white snow in the Dragon Isles, and her throat clenched.
It seemed as if Fuutie was lost in her memories as she continued, “I was in the cold sea, probably waist deep in the water. It was when he discovered me. He shouted at me and came into the ocean and dragged me out. Then he gave me such a scolding telling me some nonsense about how precious life is and how I should cherish it. Apparently, he thought I had been trying to kill myself. I think I must have told him how I missed Father. It was such a relief to admit that, and he held me and let me cry my heart out for the first time.
“I’m pretty sure I fell for him from that day on. He wasn’t particularly handsome in the traditional sense. He was a high schooler then and curt in his words, awkward and somewhat gruff. And I only later learned that he was the oldest son of the head of the Wu Clan. I didn’t even discover his name until I did some snooping around. Wu Zino. I chased him for years, but he wouldn’t even take a glance at me. Well, for him, he probably saw me as a kid, and I was still a kid. But I became a teenager, and I think he finally gave in to my persistence.”
“He finally came to his senses,” interjected Shiefa. “I mean, you were quite popular with the boys—it’s not like he could expect you to chase him forever.”
There was a nostalgic smile on Fuutie’ s lips now. “When we began dating, I was in high school, and he had become the new head of the Hong Kong triads. We had to keep our relationship a secret because of bad blood between our two families and also his position as mafia boss, and it was tough always hiding it.”
Syaoran said, “You did a good job. I never knew.”
“Well, you were in Japan,” said Fuutie. “Even Feimei and Fanren didn’t know for several years.”
“Now that I think about it, Mother knew, I’m sure,” said Shiefa.
“Mother must have known,” agreed Fuutie. “Jinyu also knew since that was also around the time he became Zino’s second in the triads. Zino trusted Jinyu more than anyone else. Jinyu was like Zino’s shadow, perhaps his most loyal follower. It’s not like I don’t know. I know there is more to the story. Zino probably made Jinyu vow to never tell me anything. He was that kind of person, the Gold Dragon of the Hong Kong triads. He would have his own way. So, I would never learn what really transpired that day, how Zino really died, why we had to be parted in this way. Till my dying day, I would wonder and wonder.” Shiefa reached over and squeezed Fuutie’s hand.
Fuutie continued, “I never knew what it was to want to die, but when I learned he was gone, I lost all desire to continue on in a world without him. And yet, what’s worse is, I did, and I was fine. Numb, but fine.”
“It’s okay to live on,” said Syaoran. “It’s not the one who departs first who suffers, it’s the ones left behind. He wouldn’t have wanted to see you give up.”
“You’re right, Syaoran,” said Fuutie with a crooked smile. “Zino always was trying to save me when I didn’t need any saving. Even that day he found me in the ocean on the day Father died, when I had no intention of killing myself.”
Leiyun said to Fuutie, “Zino would not want you to live with such a burden for the rest of your life.”
Fuutie responded, “I’m sure you’ve never loved anyone in your life, Lei. For you are wrong. My feelings are not a burden.”
“True, what do I know of love?” said Leiyun. “I envy that you did get to love and share your heart with him while you could. After all, that momentary bliss, your memories of him is yours, and yours alone to cherish for a lifetime. But he’s gone now, and you are living. So, you’ve got to move forward as well. For he wouldn’t want you to be forever trapped in time.”
Fuutie remarked softly, “You remember Father’s words after all this time. Every once in a while, I wondered if you were indeed an imposter, if the real Leiyun was dead after all.”
And Leiyun told her dryly, “You and your sisters quizzed me for a month when I came back—even an imposter would crumble when the four of you team up together.”
Kara turned to Leiyun. “The Gold Dragon—you were friends with him before you went off on your death mission.”
Leiyun said softly, “Wu Zino was a noble man, a rare find amid the nasty clan wars in Hong Kong.”
“It’s a strange combination—the Wu Clan I thought wasn’t a favorite of the Lis,” remarked Kara.
“He was a couple years older, but our paths often crossed in our youth,” said Leiyun. “We ran in the same circle, after all. Some time before I departed for the Dragon Isles, I asked him to take Jinyu under his wing in the triads and gain a footing. And he kept his words.”
Erika reached over and rubbed the dirt smudged across Jinyu’s cheek with a thumb. “I’m sure your body’s covered in a big bruise or two, but thank goodness your face didn’t get scratched up.”
Jinyu stared down at her, puzzled.
“Don’t get too touched by her tenderly concern,” drawled Kara. “Erika’s just worried that if the Prince is down, there is no way she is going to be able to train a replacement by tomorrow.”
Erika nodded. “You know how many hours I spent getting Jinyu to learn his lines? And Li Fuutie dares come trying to ruin it all.” She pointed her fingers at the Lis and asserted, “To think, I thought I was the nutcase in this neighborhood before all of you guys showed up.”
Leiyun pointed out, “Nobody’s all sane in the mind, and if you think you are, then you’re probably the biggest psychopath of the bunch.”
“Are you speaking of yourself?” mumbled Erika. “Kitty-murderer.”
And Kara chuckled. “She’s got a point, Lei. Well, aren’t you going to go check on Fuutie?”
“You guys go ahead,” said Leiyun. “Shiefa, Wei’s waiting so keep an eye on Fuutie tonight. But I have a feeling she’s going to be all right now.”
Shiefa nodded.
“You shouldn’t stay out too late, Lei—your wounds are not properly healed yet,” called out Kara, watching the careless smile drop from Leiyun’s face the moment he turned his back to them.
It was a silent walk home with the Black Dragon, and Erika trailed behind him, one step back. Not even when he was wounded, not when the Pink Flamingo attacked him, when assassins were chasing after him did he seem affected. What was it about Fuutie that disturbed him so? Erika finally asked, “Did you really kill Wi Zino?”
Jinyu halted suddenly.
“I don’t care if those rumors are true,” she stated. “I’m a descendant of the Dark One. Who am I to judge?”
“It is true,” said Jinyu in his low voice. “I killed Wu Zino.”
Erika turned to him, finding herself strangely annoyed by his subdued tone. “So what? So what if you killed him? You’re the triad boss—were you just going to lie back and really let Fuutie strangle or stab you to death?” One look at him, and she already had the answer. “Your life does not equate to his life lost. And if you did kill the Zino, surely there was a good reason to do so.”
“There is never a good reason to take a life,” said Jinyu. “It’s always a last resort, or should be.”
She snorted. “And I thought you were the mafia king—don’t you take lives for fun, for disobedience or insubordination, to make threats, to pay off debts, because of orders from higher ups? Isn’t human life meaningless to you folks, for at the end of day, it’s only a transaction for the likes of you?”
Jinyu stared down at her, his voice chill. “Yes, life and death is but a transaction. My life was spared by someone’s mercy, so for someone like me, I don’t know what the value of life is.” He spun around, a long black braid swinging around him.
“Stop it, stop saying cruel things that you don’t mean an ounce of!” exclaimed Erika, reaching out and grabbing Jinyu’s arm. Suddenly, she was flooded with many images, of a sallow woman with jet black hair falling into her face, collapsed on the gray concrete floor, a pool of blood spreading around her. Through a cracked full-length mirror, a young boy with the same black hair, skinny as if he had been underfed, could be seen cowering underneath the table, watching the woman’s amber eyes slowly shutting. The woman reached out her trembling hand and whispered, “Jinyu.” And her arm fell limp by her side. Darkness. Only once in her life had Erika felt consumed by such pitch blackness, when she was seven, lying on the operation table on the brink of death.
Then a burst of sunshine. A boy with light brown hair and brilliant turquoise eyes held out a hand and said, “Come.” There was a wrinkled man in a long black silk robe with silver dragon embroideries atop a golden dais at the end of a long hall, and many women and men in vibrant silken garbs whispered and pointed. The scene changed again, and a tall man with cropped barley-colored hair grinned and said, “You’re Jinyu, right? My name is Zino. Wu Zino.” Last, she saw a slender silver-haired man with a sword in his hand piercing the same tall man with a golden dragon tattooed across his torso.
She withdrew her hand, as if she had touched hot coal. Her eyes widened as she looked up into Jinyu’s garnet-colored eyes. “Why? Why don’t you speak up? Why do you defend him?”
Erika had never seen him make an expression like that as Jinyu stared down at her with furious eyes glowing like burning coal in the dark. It thrilled her to see him in rage, lose his cool for a change. “Nobody gave you permission to look into my memories,” he spat at her. “That’s why I hate all you powered ones. You think it gives you entitlement.”
“I didn’t look on purpose,” she retorted. “I don’t have a lot of control over my powers, never did.”
“Well, you better learn to control them before it gets you in trouble,” said Jinyu.
“Like it did Zino?” asked Erika.
“His case was different,” said Jinyu stiltedly.
“It’s all the same,” said Erika. “Any magician with too much power in the end gets consumed by it. The only exception I know of is Clow Reed, and he decided to split his power in his reincarnations as a way out.”
“I wouldn’t know, I don’t have powers,” replied Jinyu.
“Which could be a blessing,” said Erika. “A mafia boss with magic doesn’t seem quite fair, does it? I guess Wu Zino was such a case.”
“Never speak of this to anyone else,” he told her shortly.
“What, or you’d rip my tongue out, or whatever you mafia do?” asked Erika, clenching her fists to keep her hands from trembling. “Don’t worry. I won’t sully your evil reputation. But I think you should tell Fuutie the truth—doesn’t she deserve it?”
******
After bidding her friends good night, Tomoyo returned to Seijou High, which she could navigate around even in the dark. There were no students left on campus at this time, though many classes had stayed on late for final preparations for the cultural festival tomorrow.
There was dim orange light from the infirmary room at the end of the hallway, as she had suspected. Tomoyo gazed around the empty infirmary room, then went to the furthest cot and drew open the curtain. Sure enough, Leiyun was lying on his back, alone, and she could see sweat glistening on his brows.
“Slinking around in the dark like a stray kitten. Don’t tell me you are here for a midnight rendezvous, Tomoyo-chan,” he murmured, unsurprisingly knowing it was her though his eyes were shut.
She asked, “Should I call Li Jingmei-sensei if your back is bothering you?” He had come here probably because he wanted to be alone, and so long as the Li delegation was around, there would be no peace and quiet at his home.
“No,” he replied. “She has actual patients she needs to tend to.”
“You’re a patient too.”
“Did you actually come here because you are worried for me?” he asked her mockingly. “Or is it another interrogation session?”
“I left a dress pattern in the classroom, and I saw the light in the infirmary,” she replied.
He glanced up at her, seeing through her lie, truly puzzled. “Why are you not scared of me as well?”
Tomoyo stared down at Leiyun. “Should I fear you?”
“That was nothing for me,” he told her. “I am a Li. For the sake of my clan, I have done and could do a lot worse.”
“And yet, are you not the one who most hurting by having to let Byakko-chan go?” Tomoyo asked softly. “You took him in knowing he was possessed. Why?”
“Because I am perverse and like to keep dangerous things close to me so I can watch over it.”
“Or perhaps, you believed that you could convert him, save him from otherwise certain demise,” said Tomoyo. “You said as a child you thought you could be a healer. Well, that side of you has not changed, I believe. You take in broken things and try your best to heal them.”
“Think what you want, innocent Tomoyo,” said Leiyun, sitting up slowly. “When you have lived long enough, you’ll learn that no matter how much you want to believe in the best of somebody, you will always end up disappointed.”
“Who has disappointed you so much?” asked Tomoyo.
Leiyun appeared taken aback by the direct question. “I was speaking generally. I myself don’t have much expectation from anybody.”
“I beg to differ,” said Tomoyo. “I know people with high expectations for themselves also have very high expectations from others.”
And Leiyun laughed, a caustic, short laughter. “Guilty as charged. So, Tomoyo, do you have high expectations from me?”
“Yes, I do,” replied Tomoyo. “I learned very early on from the master himself, the most dangerous ones are the unassuming ones that are watching, always watching from the sidelines, waiting to pounce on the right opportunity, when all the stars align and all conditions have been met.”
Leiyun’s eyes narrowed. “And when such a time comes, I most definitely will disappoint you. I am not generous and kind as this master you speak of, nor am I forgiving and magnanimous as the Card Mistress. Nor am I as righteous and conscientious as you, my dear.”
“I said I have high expectations from you, but surely you know that I don’t hold everyone to the same standard,” Tomoyo said.
“Oh, so you expect me to play a certain part, and will be disappointed if I don’t meet that expectation,” said Leiyun with a bemused grin. “And may I ask, what part do you expect me to play?”
“The bell,” said Tomoyo.
“Bell?”
“Yes, Mizuki Kaho-sensei’s Moon Bell,” said Tomoyo.
“The bell which brought back Sakura from her greatest destruction,” Leiyun murmured. “I’m sorry but I do not posses such a magical artifact, nor do I believe such a deus ex machina mechanism will work a second time.”
“So you are not denying the fact that there is some sort of ultimate destruction impending upon all of us,” said Tomoyo.
He blinked at her languidly. “Define destruction for me.”
Tomoyo told him shortly, “Destruction as meant by the Dark Ones. Which most likely would be to destroy the descendants of the Great Five.”
“Again, destroy is an ambiguous word,” said Leiyun. “But you are correct that so long as the Dark One’s desire for revenge in not satiated, there will be no peace for Sakura’s so-called Alliance of the Stars.”
Leiyun’s immediate ambitions did not seem to be to destroy the Li Clan from within, so he was not an enemy to Syaoran, Tomoyo was certain. But was he an enemy to the Star Alliance? What was to the benefit of the Li Clan was not always to the benefit of Sakura and Clow Reed. But if the shared foe was the Dark Ones, wouldn’t that make them on the same side? Tomoyo remarked, “I was wrong earlier. You are not an observer, you are an orchestrator.”
“I prefer the term conductor,” said Leiyun. “Yet I would rather call myself an observer, or audience, than an orchestrator, if that is the terminology my little songbird chooses to label me with.”
“An observer connotes neutrality,” said Tomoyo. “You are not neutral.”
“I don’t believe the enemy of my enemy is my friend, if that’s what you’re getting at,” said Leiyun, as if reading her mind.
“Oh, I thought it was more along the lines of keep your friends close and enemies even closer,” said Tomoyo.
“Question is, who is the friend and who is the enemy, when all’s fair in love and war,” remarked Leiyun.
Tomoyo frowned. “Are you implying that we are heading into war? Or are we already at war?”
His lips curved into a thin smile. “I could be talking about love.”
******
Saturday…
It was the day of the long-awaited annual Seijou High School Cultural Festival. Bright banners were posted throughout the hallways and bulletin board. Students ran about here and there in gaudy costumes, maid uniforms, military suits, kimonos and medieval dresses, preparing for the arrival of students from other schools, family members and townspeople.
Kinomoto Sakura, holding a stack of fliers for Class 2-2 and 3-2’s joint production of Cinderella, stared out the second floor hallway window as a gleaming black Porsche parked outside the school gates. Out stepped a magnificent group of four. First, was a tall woman with shoulder-length auburn hair, in a form-fitting cerulean blue long qipao embroidered with cranes which buttoned to her neck, followed by a woman who was clearly related to her, also with the same shade of reddish-brown hair, cropped short into the front and tied back into a long tail, wearing a short green qipao top paired with matching slacks. From the other side of the car stepped out a tall dark-haired man with glasses in a sharp navy suit, and next to him was a slighter man with silvery hair, wearing a loose white button-down shirt paired with off-white chinos.
Sakura groaned—how was she going to get any time alone with Syaoran with all of his siblings and cousins running around the campus. Speaking of the devil, Li Leiyun suddenly glanced up toward the school, as if noticing her. She spun around, away from the window.
Outside, Tanaka Miho and Li Meilin giddily strolled arm-in-arm down the track field, where students had set up numerous booths, some selling savory Japanese food like takoyaki and okonomiyaki and others selling treats such as cream-filled crepe, sweet shaved ice, dorayaki stuffed with sweet red beans, raindrop-like warabimochi covered in kinako powder, and pastel-hued cotton candy. There were numerous booths where you could play games, such as toss the ring into the hoop, and win an assortment of prices. Sports teams set up competitions where you could win a huge bunny rabbit if you beat key athletes, such as the basketball club headed by Akagi Aki of Class 2-2.
Miho was certain she had waited all her life to finally be part of a high school cultural festival. When she was in grade school, her brother had taken her to Eitoukou Academy high school division cultural festival—he had been invited for an archery exhibition—and it had been one of her last outings with him before he disappeared. While Miho was bummed her class was doing something so unoriginal, like a haunted house, she was glad because it gave her plenty of time to run about and see the other classes’ projects, ranging from host and maid cafés to beauty pageants and of course the highlight, the Cinderella play, a joint production between Sakura and Kara Reed’s classes, which would take place later on in the afternoon in the auditorium. Of course, she vowed that the haunted house she had put together would be the scariest one in the history of all high school haunted houses, and she took great pleasure in watching people come screaming out of the classroom, petrified. She remarked, “Where’s my brother—I haven’t seen him yet today.”
“Most likely napping somewhere,” grumbled Meilin, as she chomped down on sugar-glazed dango on a stick. Her morning was free since her class play wasn’t until late afternoon, and Kai had disappeared into thin air. They heard a squealing of girls and headed toward the school gate to see what all the fuss was about, and Meilin immediately dodged behind the cotton candy stand as she spotted her eye-catching cousins march down the field in a row.
Li Shiefa clasped her hands together at the sight of the brightly decorated campus with huge banners and colorful food and game stands outside. “I’m finally seeing a Japanese high school cultural festival. Look at all these students, working their hardest to create a wonderful school days memory.”
“Ah, the brilliance of youth,” remarked Leiyun, his wispy silvery hair blowing back in the early summer breeze, looking more like student than teacher.
“So crowded,” grumbled Dairen, adjusting his tie. “Does the whole town show up for school festivals or something? Well, I guess there’s not much to do on weekends in the suburbs.”
Daidouji Tomoyo, video camera in hand, sighed. “What a dazzling quartet.”
“A flashy group, as expected of Syaoran’s sisters and Li-sensei,” murmured Naoko from the bleachers. “But who’s that stern-looking businessman with them?”
“Another cousin of ours, Li Dairen,” said Meilin sourly. “What’s he doing here? He should be busy meeting up with trade officials or something.”
Rika, tilting her head, asked, “How many cousins does Li-kun have exactly?”
“I’m the only one that counts,” replied Meilin, wrinkling her nose.
“I’m surprised you decided to tag along, Dairen,” remarked Fuutie, turning to her older cousin. “I thought you had golf with Japanese Trade Ministry officials today.”
Dairen shrugged offhandedly. “I don’t particularly enjoy golf, anyway. It’s a boring sport, if it can even be called a sport. And it’s a drag to pretend to miss the hole as not to offend bigheads. While this is a rare chance for market research of the Japanese youth.”
“Only you would call a school cultural festival market research—do you realize you’re the only person here in a full suit,” said Fuutie with a snicker. “Why don’t you roll up your sleeves and enjoy yourself for a change?”
“Dairen doesn’t know how to have fun,” said Leiyun with a lazy grin.
“Oh look, if you beat the basketball team, you can win a giant teddy bear!” exclaimed Fuutie, pointing to the basketball club’s booth. “I haven’t played basketball since high school, let’s do it. Five on five against the basketball team.”
Dairen groaned. “There are only four of us.”
“Nope, we have Jinyu as well,” said Leiyun, waving his hand. “Jin, over here!”
“Does Jinyu even play basketball or know the rules?” asked Shiefa.
Leiyun shrugged, as he rolled up his sleeves. “We only need him as a spot filler, anyway.” With a sigh, Dairen took off his blazer and folded it over a chair.
Akagi Aki, captain of the Seijou High basketball team, gulped as he stared up at the fearsome group of five before him—the dazzling Li cousins. “Well, we will play a match for 10 minutes and the team with the highest score during that time will be the winner,” he told them, though they were not listening.
The game gathered a large group of students to watch, for the Li team was an eye-catching quintet, and the basketball team, led by Aki, was hugely popular. The referee blew the whistle, and they gasped when Dairen sped along the court and easily swung the ball into the hoop.
“Two-zero!” called out the referee.
“That glass-eyed businessman can run,” remarked Miho.
Meilin did not look too surprised and said, “Dairen may look like he’d just sit behind a huge desk all day long, but he used to be the captain of the basketball team in high school.”
Shiefa dribbled the ball away from Aki and passed to Fuutie. Despite wearing a long qipao, the high slit up to her thighs didn’t restrict her movement and many male students gaped happily as Fuutie jumped up and made another shot.
From the opposite end of the court, Tomoyo watched the game progress—Fuutie was shooting guard and Dairen played power forward, scoring most of the points, while Leiyun clearly was point guard, passing the ball up front to the forwards. Shiefa was small forward and Jinyu played center, surprising everyone when the ball bounced off the rim, and he jumped up and dunked the ball in.
“So, the Black Dragon knows how to play, after all,” remarked Miho.
“Actually, I think Leiyun just told him, ‘dunk ball in and retrieve,’” murmured Meilin, to which Miho giggled.
“Hang in there, Aki-senpai!” called out Miho, waving her hand in encouragement.
Miho’s classmate, Ayu, a huge fan of the basketball team, called out at the top of her lungs, “Go Akagi Aki-senpai! You can do it!”
Aki wiped the sweat from his brows, out of breath though the game was only 10 minutes long, staring at the Li cousins in awe and terror. He had passed them off as idling adults passing time—but they were playing as if this were some sort of NBA tournament. And what frightened him most was the brains of the team, Leiyun, who controlled the passes, defense, scoring and rebounds, as if it were second nature to him. The group had not even warmed up and one of them was dressed as if he was about to enter a business meeting. Seijou High’s center, Masuda Yoichi, was completely beat, looking worse than he had after nationals last year.
There were 10 second left, and Aki quickly dribbled the ball away to the other end of the court. He was the captain of the basketball team, there was no way he could end this game in such a humiliating defeat with zero points. Yet, there was Leiyun, like a silver flash, who came and snatched the ball away in the blink of an eye. Leiyun was too far from the other end of the court. Was he going to pass to Fuutie? There wasn’t time. Instead, Leiyun jumped up from the three-point line and with a snap of his wrists, the ball soared across half the court and swooshed into the hoop without even touching the rims.
And then, the time buzzed and the onlookers cheered wildly—for the school doctor aka substitute music teacher—had leaped up over last year’s MVP player Masuda Yoichi, and shot a three-pointer, landing gracefully back on his feet with the ease of a pro.
“Twenty-one to zero!” called out the referee. Aki and the other basketball team members collapsed onto their knees in utter defeat.
Meilin said, “Don’t feel too bad, Aki-kun. Leiyun, though he never joined the basketball team, always ended up as an MVP player whenever Dairen got him to substitute, and Fuutie and Shiefa were both in the girls’ basketball team for years. Dairen led his high school basketball club to Hong Kong nationals and their team came first for the first time in a decade. Nobody would be able to beat my cousins when they teamed up together.”
“It’s surprising though, Syaoran’s not that good at basketball, at least since he’s so good at all other sports,” remarked Tomoyo.
“Well, yeah. We were much younger, so we had no chance against the older cousins in basketball, and they never included us,” said Meilin. “Syaoran focused on soccer instead, where height didn’t matter much. Speaking of sports, have you seen Kai? The archery club is going frantic looking for him.”
“I think he’s hiding in our classroom with Syaoran,” said Tomoyo with a chuckle. “They dashed into the school building the moment they saw the Porsche arrive.” And Meilin stomped into the building, grumbling to herself.
Aki nearly wept tears of relief as Leiyun refused the grand prize doll. Spinning the basketball round his forefinger, Leiyun declared, “That was fun! I haven’t played ball in over eight years!”
“We’re getting rusty,” said Dairen, putting on his blazer again. “Only 21 points against these kiddos? That’s completely dismal.”
“That’s because Leiyun didn’t show off his fancy shooting skills till the end,” drawled Shiefa.
“It’s boring if I just keep shooting three-pointers,” said Leiyun with a shrug. “I might’ve made Aki-kun cry.”
Tomoyo thought she saw a glimpse of a teenage Leiyun, who had been much more carefree and could joke around with his cousins, and for a moment felt resentful against those who had taken that away from him and left him with that empty, caustic laughter that never reached his eyes.
“They’re having a pie throwing contest over there!” exclaimed Shiefa, watching Yamazaki Takashi take an aim at the target. “Oh, one’s coming this way.” She expertly dodged, but Dairen, standing behind her, was not so lucky and the pie sailed by and splattered squarely across his face. Gooey, white cream dripped down his neck and chest.
Fuutie smothered laugher. “Dairen, spending so much time behind the desk has made your reflexes slow. What are you going to do—you’re all covered in cream!”
Dairen, black brows twitching together, said, “I’ll go back to the hotel and change.”
“That’ll be a hassle—you can’t go back to Tokyo, and even our place is across town,” said Leiyun, glancing around. “Oh, Naoko-chan, can you help my cousin Dairen clean up and find him clean clothes to change into—I’m sure someone will have a spare shirt or two around. Meanwhile, I’ll be showing my cousins the host café they have been badgering me to see.”
Naoko stared up at the grimacing man in the ruined business suit, which looked to be an Italian designer brand. “Follow me,” she told him. He obliged, only because he could not stand walking around smeared in sticky pie. She led him inside to the boys’ changing room and handed him a Seijou tracksuit. “Please change, I’ll be outside.”
“Is this the only thing available? Has this even been washed?” he asked, holding up the clothing with his thumb and forefinger.
“My classmate Yamazaki Takashi luckily is as tall as you, so he kindly said you could borrow it. He also felt guilty since he’s the one who threw the pie, though I’m not surprised his aim was so off because he never opens his eyes properly,” replied Naoko. “As far as I know, he is a very clean person. Of course, if this does not agree with you, I’m sure we have some leftover costumes from the theater club or animal mascot suits available.”
“This will do.” He stared down at the tracksuit disdainfully. “I don’t need the sweatpants. It’s only my blazer that’s ruined.”
Naoko was pretty sure he was the kind of person who would wear freshly ironed business casual lounging around at home, someone who had never worn sweatpants in his life. “I thought it might look more ridiculous for you to be wearing a tracksuit top with dress pants,” she pointed out. “It’s up to you if you want to wear it that way.”
Minutes later, Dairen emerged looking glummer than ever, in the navy tracksuit, with SEIJOU in bold English letters embossed in white on the back, hands tucked into the sweatpants pockets, positively sulking by this point. He looked remarkably younger than before—he could nearly pass for a student with black bangs, usually slicked back, tumbling down onto his forehead because he had to wash off the cream in the sink.
Naoko said, “I’ve removed most of the cream from your suit—I didn’t want to ruin the fabric, so I called a drycleaner over recommended by my friend Tomoyo. Your suit should be ready in a couple hours. Hopefully you will be around?”
“Thank you,” said Dairen, who seemed to have come to terms with his absurd outfit. She passed him her glass cleaning cloth, and he looked almost grateful as he had smears across his glasses. “What did you say your name was again?”
“Naoko. Yanagisawa Naoko,” she replied.
Taking his first proper glance at her, since his glasses were cleaned, he remarked, “Well, Naoko, since I am dressed so, if you are free, why don’t you show me the rest of this cultural festival?”
“Aren’t your cousins going to be waiting?” asked Naoko.
Dairen replied with a thin smile, “I surmise they will be much occupied with the host café for the next hour or two. And I think I would get a more comprehensive perspective of Japan’s youth culture from an actual Japanese schoolgirl than from my useless cousin Leiyun.”
Naoko didn’t know what to show Dairen, who had the aura of someone who was not used to being rejected, or kept waiting, but decided to oblige for the time being, since she would not be needed until later on in the day for their class play.
As she feared, he proved to be a picky companion as she guided him around to the top attractions of the festival. “Not bad,” he remarked when he tasted the globular takoyaki from the most crowded food booth of the fair. When he was served ice coffee by the most popular waitress at class 3-1’s maid café, he declared disdainfully, “I don’t drink instant coffee.”
“That’s not the point,” said Naoko. “Look at those maid costumes—they were even designed by my friend Tomoyo.” The senior girls looked stunning in the little black and white maid dresses lined with frilly lace. “Shoko-senpai is the top beauty of the senior class—look at the huge line of boys outside trying to catch a glimpse of her in the maid get-up.”
Dairen glanced up at Shoko, a petite girl with large eyes accented with heavy mascara, and long, bouncy curls tied into high pigtails. “So that’s the kind of female popular with male youths here?”
Naoko rolled her eyes. “You make it sound like you are terrible old. Aren’t you considered to be in the male youth demographic as well? How old are you?”
“I’m 25 years old,” said Dairen. “But I don’t think my taste belongs with the so-called youth demographic after all, for I do not find this Shoko attractive. In fact, you can be considered much prettier.”
Naoko blushed at the unexpected remark, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Don’t joke. Nobody would consider me a beauty anywhere.”
Dairen remarked, “Then it’s because young boys are shallow and see what’s immediately in their face.”
“Excuse me?” And Naoko followed the direction of Dairen’s gaze towards Shoko’s voluptuous figure outlined by the white apron cinched at the waist. The school boys ogled the upperclassman in her tight dress and short skirt, and especially the low neckline whenever she bent over to serve the drinks.
Dairen asked, following after Naoko who stomped out of the maid café, “So, what is your class doing?”
“We’re putting on a play, Cinderella,” replied Naoko.
“Oh, you’re in Sakura’s class,” said Dairen.
“You know Sakura-chan?” asked Naoko.
“In a sense,” Dairen replied. “She’s the one who gave me the tickets to the cultural festival. My dearest cousin Syaoran of course didn’t want me to come and is evidently doing his best to avoid me.”
Since it was lunchtime, Naoko took him to eat okonomiyaki, which he actually seemed to enjoy. It was odd, seeing the severe-looking man who looked as ease in a tracksuit as his Italian designer suit, sitting on the grass and slurping greasy noodles from a paper plate with wooden chopsticks, listening to the jazz club’s impromptu performance of “Fly Me to the Moon.”
“So, you’re from Hong Kong, right? What do you do?” Naoko asked.
“I handle accounts in my family’s business,” he replied.
She didn’t know if he was being modest or purposefully vague. Naoko had overheard from Meilin that Li Dairen was the Vice President of the Li Group, a major Hong Kong conglomerate that even she had heard of before. At the end of the day, it didn’t surprise her that Syaoran came from such a powerful family, for he always exuded the aura of someone from an elite background, as did Meilin.
Fuutie and Shiefa found them as Dairen won a huge bunny rabbit from a shooting vendor. “This is too easy,” he declared and handed the yellow bunny doll to Naoko. When she protested, he commanded, “Take it. What use would I have for a cheap stuffed toy?”
Fuutie took one glance at Dairen in the ill-fitting high school gym tracksuit and burst out laughing. “Dairen, what in the world are you wearing? Are you cosplaying as a high schooler too?”
Shiefa added on, “Where were you all morning long? Were you embarrassed to be seen in that getup and hiding?”
“No, I did plenty of market research,” said Dairen, pushing his black-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Though I might have to take some antacid pills after all the greasy junk I’ve eaten today.”
Naoko checked her smartphone. “Oh, Tomoyo texted your suit has come back. Just leave the tracksuit in the first-floor locker room after you change—Yamazaki-kun will pick it up later.”
“Wait, where are you going?” Dairen demanded.
“We need to start preparing for the play,” said Naoko. “I’m the stage manager,
I need to get everyone changed into costumes and make sure all our props and
set are in place. Come see our play later on, if you can!”
“I will,” replied Dairen. He found himself facing a porcelain doll-like girl with long violet hair French-braided down her back. “You are the Daidouji Tomoyo.”
“And you must be Li Dairen-san,” said Tomoyo with a sweet smile, as she dropped his dry-cleaned suit in his arms. “Your suit is good as new. And do come watch our play. Sakura-chan would want that. It’s at 4 p.m.”
“Where is Sakura?” asked Dairen. “Cheeky of her to invite me and not even show her face.”
“She’s super occupied at the moment, but she was looking forward to seeing you,” replied Tomoyo. “Well, if you will excuse me, I need to run back to the auditorium.”
Dairen remarked, “What a polite girl, though the whole bunch of them, they’re all very peculiar.”
“I think they think that about us,” remarked Leiyun with a shrug, watching Tomoyo rush off, her long braid swinging back. The girl had been tirelessly running about the entire school all morning long—she was always needed by one person or the other, from various clubs, the student council, the cultural festival management committee, even teachers, yet she never complained.
“She’s the one you were telling me about, the Card Mistress’ best friend and cousin—the other Amamiya?” asked Dairen. “Feimei and her sisters seem to adore her.”
“Yes, she’s adorable and evil,” said Leiyun.
“Why do you say evil?” asked Dairen, surprised. “She looks like a very much a nice young lady from a good family—she is the only daughter of the president of the Daidouji Toy Company, isn’t she?”
Leiyun whispered, “She blackmails people into doing things with an innocent smile on her face and even records everything.”
“Oh, she’s like you, except you don’t record things, just verbally abuse people. She’s the one who got you to slave away as a conductor for some high school cultural festival play, right?” Dairen chuckled. “I like her already.”
******
“Say, Kai, has Sakura been avoiding me lately?” asked Li Syaoran, seated on the windowsill of their classroom, watching his sisters down by the basketball court laugh gleefully as Dairen got pied in the face.
Blasting X-Japan from his MP3 player, Mizuki Kai, sucking on a lollipop, feet propped up on his desk, replied, “No, not at all, what makes you think that?”
Syaoran remarked to the former thief, his current neighbor, “You’re not a very convincing liar. Ever since we came back from the Dragon Isles, it seems like she’s distracted by something.”
“It seems more like you’re the one who’s been distracted since you came back from the Dragon Isles,” said Kai dryly.
Syaoran was not listening and asked, “Why do you think she’s been avoiding me?”
“I don’t know, maybe she feels guilty about something,” said Kai, pulling off his silver headphones. “Or maybe she has something to confess to you.”
“I already know she ate up Wei’s special chocolate caramel pudding while she stayed over,” said Syaoran with a frown. “Is she still feeling bad over that?”
Solemnly, Kai nodded, eyes closed. “Yes. That’s it.”
Meilin, who had been listening to the odd conversation from the doorway, stomped up to Kai’s desk and hissed under her breath, “You’re not helping the situation! How in the world is Sakura ever going to confess to Syaoran when he thinks she cares more about chocolate pudding than him!”
And Kai twiddled his fingers gleefully. “Midnight is approaching, and I’m going to be rich!”
She whispered, “No way! We still have until the end of the day for our bet! Sakura surely will do it today!”
“I don’t know,” remarked Kai. “I think she has her hands tied with chasing down a few dark forces, perhaps a yokai or two, and who knows what havoc Syaoran’s crazy sisters and cousins will wrack.”
When Sakura burst into the classroom, she was surprised to find Syaoran leaned against the corner windowsill, staring out the glass rather picturesquely, while Meilin and Kai were huddled in a corner squabbling about something. “What are you guys doing here, not enjoying the cultural festival? We’re lucky because our play is late afternoon, so we can look around and enjoy all the booths and vendors!”
Kai drawled, “I have an archery exhibition, so I’ve got to get going.”
“I didn’t know you were in the archery club, Kai-kun,” said Sakura.
“He’s not. The archery club president begged him to take part in the showcase, nonetheless, because he’s got Olympian form,” said Meilin dryly. “Come, let’s go.” She pushed Kai out of the classroom, sliding the door shut behind them.
And Sakura found herself alone in the classroom with Syaoran. “Your sisters seem to be enjoying themselves,” she remarked, twiddling her thumb behind her back. “And Dairen-san also came. I’m glad.”
“They’ve all been working nonstop over the past half year, ever since the Great Elder passed away,” said Syaoran softly. “It’s a well-deserved break for them, especially Dairen, who had to deal with the financial instability and dropped shares of the Li Group in the aftermath of Great-Uncle Renshu’s death.”
“You too,” murmured Sakura. “You deserve a break too, at times. Your sisters came to Japan because they were worried about you after taking on the responsibility of becoming the Great Elder.”
“I don’t think so—they have never worried about me—notice this is the first time they decided to visit in seven years since I first came to Japan.”
“Well, I worry too,” said Sakura, clenching her eyes shut and clasping her hands together tightly. “Because, Syaoran, I really really—”
Syaoran suddenly paled. “Speaking of the devil, I hear my sisters’ voices down the hall.” He hopped off the windowsill and peeked out into the hallway. “They’ll surely find me here. Come, let’s hide from them.”
Was this a polite way of cutting off her confession—she didn’t hear them at all. Maybe it was sibling radar, kind of like the one her brother had for her. One way or another, it was an excuse to explore the festival with Syaoran, so Sakura tagged along.
“Stick close,” he told her, and she happily drew closer to him. The hallway was crowded with girls dressed in maid costumes, advertising their homeroom’s café, boys in sequined suits, calling out, “Come to Class 2-3’s host club!” and even a flamboyant Count Dracula calling out, “Visit our House of Terrors in Class 1-2 if you dare, innocent lambs!”
“Oh, that’s totally Shouji-kun,” said Sakura with a giggle. “I can tell from his Kansai-ben.”
“Who is Shouji-kun?” Syaoran asked in a slightly sharp tone.
“Miho-chan’s classmate originally from Osaka,” replied Sakura. “You’ve seen him around—the flashy punk-rock boy who plays the electric guitar.”
“Actually, that seems like a good place to hide from my sisters,” remarked Syaoran, pointing to Class 1-2’s House of Terrors, a formidable entrance made of draped toilet paper and black streamers. “They’ll surely head toward the host club or butler café. Let’s go in.”
“Hoe, no!” wailed Sakura, as Syaoran prodded her along. “Wait, I’m not going in there!”
“Don’t you feel a dark force’s presence coming from the classroom?” he asked.
“B-but it’s a haunted house!” said Sakura, lower lips trembling.
“It’s fine—it’s just a bunch of pranks by students,” said Syaoran.
“No, Miho-chan said it was super scary,” whimpered Sakura. “She even got Kai-kun to help out with the special effects.”
“Are you going to capture the dark force or not?” demanded Syaoran.
She whispered, “You won’t leave my side?” He nodded, and Sakura grabbed on the edge of Syaoran’s uniform shirt as they entered the pitch-black classroom. A pale white ghost with long tangled black hair lurched out at them, and Sakura shrieked, nearly blowing Syaoran’s eardrum. Next, a girl in a school uniform with a red ribbon tied around her neck turned to them. The girl unraveled the ribbon around her slender neck, and her head rolled away with a thud on the floor, and even Syaoran jumped. Sakura whirled around and a hairy werewolf grabbed her wrist. With a frown, Syaoran slapped away the werewolf’s hand, and the student in the furry costume yelped in surprise.
“Stay by me,” Syaoran told Sakura.
“Okay,” said Sakura with a sniffle, staying close behind Syaoran, wishing she could hold his hand, or at least his sleeve.
“It’s not even scary,” said Syaoran as a mummy wrapped in yellowed bandages threw slimy eyeballs—actually peeled grapes—at them, making Sakura stifle another shriek. “They’re just students dressed up as monsters, zombies, and ghosts.”
“I know,” whimpered Sakura, glancing around suspiciously. Her heart lurched when she saw a distorted image of a girl staring back at her, only to realize that it was her own reflection in a cracked mirror.
“What is it?” Syaoran asked.
And Syaoran must have stared into the mirror as well, for she felt him shudder because she had been pressed against his back. “What’s wrong?”
He replied, “My reflection smiled at me.”
Sakura stared up at Syaoran’s unsmiling face, and pushed him along. “Let’s get out of here.”
Then suddenly, in the darkness, Syaoran halted. “Watch your step.”
Sakura at the same moment slid over a slippery spot and fell backward into a pool of green slime, and she screamed as the cold, gloopy mess consumed her body.
Syaoran reached out his hand and said, “Stop struggling, you will get more engulfed in it!”
“What is this?” Sakura asked, as the clammy slime clung to her arms, legs, and hair. “Don’t come any close, Syaoran, you’ll get pulled in as well.”
Syaoran scooped up the slime in his hand and remarked, “This is like gelatin. When we use it to make pudding, we can dilute it with water.” He held up two fingers and commanded, “Suiryuu Shourai!”
Sakura sputtered as water splashed down on her. Indeed the slime was diluted enough so that she could escape from the sticky slime, though she slid a couple times. Syaoran reached out and lifted her up by the armpits from the slime like she was a kid. “Sorry, you got soaked.”
“It’s fine, the slime felt disgusting anyway. How do we seal this?” Sakura asked, wringing the water from her skirt, realizing a worse feeling than being in a creepy, dark haunted house was being in a creepy haunted house, wet.
Syaoran frowned. “We’ve got to distract other students who are entering the Haunted House first.”
Sakura nodded. “Leave it to me.” She whipped out several card. “Maze! Haunt! Illusion! Insect!”
They heard students’ voices from behind the partition. “Strange, this classroom is much larger on the inside than it is on the outside. I thought we would have reached the exit by now.”
“It’s so dark,” remarked another student. “I think there’s a spider crawling up my leg. W-what is that?”
And then the bloodcurdling screaming began.
Deliberately ignoring the shrieks, Syaoran said, “Quick, we need to capture the Slime before it escapes to the rest of the school.”
The gelatinous slime, runny from being diluted by water, was inching toward the doorway and the windows. Syaoran chased after it, skidding over the slime and crashed into the cracked mirror. It toppled over and shattered across the floor. “Seven years of bad luck,” he muttered.
“I thought you weren’t superstitious,” said Sakura. “Besides, that mirror was already broken.”
Syaoran nodded. “The Slime’s getting away. We’ve got to congeal it quickly. Watch your steps, and don’t cut yourself.”
Sakura whipped out a card. “Freeze!” The green slime quickly solidified.
“Good, seal it now before it breaks free,” said Syaoran.
“Spirit of the dark forces. I, Sakura command you. Return to a new shape under contract. Sakura Card!” Sakura held up the Slime Card disdainfully. She spotted the mirror fragments on the floor and said, “I guess we should clean this up so that somebody doesn’t come and step on it in the dark.”
“There should be a broom in that supply closet over there,” said Syaoran.
Sakura whimpered. “I-I’m not sticking my hand in there!”
Sighing, Syaoran walked over and opened the door. Out poured thousands and
thousand of marbles that sputtered out in all directions. “Watch out!”
exclaimed Syaoran, as he toppled over backwards. The colorful glass marbles
continued pouring out of the closet, and Sakura and Syaoran were both knocked
off their feet, finding themselves swimming in a pool of marbles that towered
over their heads.
“Sakura!” called out Syaoran, as a rather large marble bonked him on the head.
“Hoe! I can’t see anything!” shouted Sakura, flaying her arms.
“Fun!” exclaimed Nakuru, splashing around in the pool of marbles.
“Nakuru-san? What are you doing?” called out Sakura.
“I was checking out Miho’s Haunted House when I felt a dark force around here,” said Nakuru, holding up a marble to the light, which caught the hues of the light.
“Pretty!” exclaimed Tomoyo, who was struggling to hold her video camera above the rainbow-hued marbles.
“Tomoyo-chan! Were you here the whole time?” asked Sakura.
“No, I came in with Nakuru-san,” said Tomoyo. “I was convinced this was the perfect opportunity to tell Syaoran you-know-what, here in the Haunted House, and was terrified I might miss filming that special moment.” Suddenly worried, she asked, “I didn’t miss it, did I?” But Sakura shook her head.
Tomoyo sighed in relief. “I didn’t realize that we’d be swimming in marbles. Can you do something about it, Eriol-kun? Our play will start soon.”
“It’s impossible to seal the Glass with us all entrapped in it,” said Eriol, whose head popped up from a layer of marbles. “By the way, kudos to you for your haunted house extension, Sakura-san. I think I aged around a decade going through that to get here.”
Tomoyo nodded. “I was surprised when Eriol told me it was your creation. Who would have thought you would be capable of creating such a horrifying haunted house?”
“Hoe, I have a lot of fears, so I think I just imagined everything scary into the haunted house,” replied Sakura sheepishly.
Kai, who was perched on a tabletop to avoid the marble bath, remarked, “Nice touch with the contorted ghost-girl chasing after you on all fours.”
“Hoe! Don’t tell me!” exclaimed Sakura, clutching her palms over her ears.
“She might be in there somewhere,” said Eriol in a hushed voice. “And grab you by the ankle.”
Tomoyo whispered loudly to Eriol, “Syaoran-kun took Sakura to watch a horror movie last weekend. She was traumatized afterward, which I think inspired her with her version of the Haunted House.”
“While we were slaving away on Mount Kumatori to contain those yokai, those two were having a fun movie date in Tokyo?” asked Nakuru sourly.
And Sakura screamed as she felt something grab her ankle.
“Don’t kick, it’s me!” said Meilin, as climbed on a table. “Gosh, what was with that contortionist girl chasing after us in all fours, her head spinning round and round? That was horrifying!”
“Where is Syaoran?” asked Kai suddenly.
“I think he got buried in the marbles,” said Meilin with a little shrug.
“Is the archery exhibition over already?” asked Tomoyo. “I wanted to watch.”
“Yeah, Yukito-san showed up, and no one cared about me anymore,” replied Kai morosely.
“Yukito-san is here? Where?” Sakura asked suddenly cheery again. “Now, how do I force the marbles back into the supply closet?” she muttered to herself. “Marbles will sink in water, so Watery won’t work. I know. Slime!” The Slime gathered the rolling marbles and Sakura directed them back into the supply closet.
Syaoran finally emerged from the waterfall of marbles, catching his breath.
“Oh, there you were,” remarked Kai, poking at the glob of green slime which made such a satisfyingly slurping sound. He rolled the blob of slime into a ball and squeezed it again, much to the chagrin of the dark force, which oozed out of his hands and turned back into a Sakura Card.
Sakura glanced at Syaoran, and her hands went to her gaping mouth.
The others also stared at Syaoran, and Miho pointed and burst out laughing, while Meilin’s lips twitched as she tried to maintain a straight face.
Syaoran looked around and said, “What? Is there something on my face? Say it!”
And Eriol finally told him politely, “Not so much your face. Maybe your head.”
Syaoran slowly reached up and touched his hair, then felt something pointy and soft. He reached over to Tomoyo’s camcorder and flipped the screen to stare at his own reflection. Dog ears. He had pointed, furry ears! And they twitched. He yanked at them with both hands. “They’re stuck!” he exclaimed.
“Well, yes,” said Eriol. “It seems you’re possessed by a dog-demon.”
“A dog-demon?” demanded Syaoran.
“Yes, an Inugami to be precise. Rather unfortunate timing,” said Eriol. “But it shouldn’t be permanent. Do you feel like barking?”
“No!” Syaoran scowled. “Ridiculous. There’s no way I can be possessed by some lowlife canine demon. Get rid of it, now!”
“Maybe Kaho can exorcise the yokai,” said Eriol. “But she’s been surrounded by parents all day long, so she’s not around.”
“Tell her to come here then!” growled Syaoran.
“Oh!” said Sakura, emerald eyes sparkling, finally unable to contain her joy as she wriggled her fingers in delight. “They’re so cute! Can I touch them? Please?”
“No!” snapped Syaoran. When Sakura looked crestfallen, he lowered his head. “Just once.”
Eagerly, Sakura reached over and stroked the pointed wolf-like ears, brown like his hair, very gently. “So soft!”
Kai remarked, arms crossed, “I have a feeling that if Syaoran had a tail, he would be wagging it right now.”
“I can’t go out like this,” remarked Syaoran, covering his head with his hands. “We have to go all the way across campus to the auditorium.”
“It’s fine, you can put this on,” said Kai, handing over a teddy bear suit from a costume rack at the back of the room
“No!” exclaimed Syaoran, recalling all sorts of unpleasantries back from childhood.
“It’s a bear costume!” exclaimed Sakura, clasping her hands together. “So cute.”
“Right?” said Kai, helping Syaoran into the charcoal-colored furry costume and zipping him up before he could protest. Then the former thief plopped on the teddy bear head, covering up Syaoran from top to bottom.
“Look, it’s a life-size Syaoran-bear!” squealed Sakura. “So adorable!”
“Did you hear that?” Kai said, nudging Syaoran. “She called you adorable.”
And somehow, a complacent Syaoran-bear plodded out along beside Sakura, toward the hallway.
“He wore it,” whispered Tomoyo in awe, camcorder in one hand, a baseball cap in the other. “I was going to tell him he could just put on this cap.”
“Told you he would wear it,” said Kai smugly.
“Tomoyo-chan, did you made that bear suit?” remarked Meilin dryly. “It looks awfully like Sakura’s Syaoran-bear that Syaoran gave her in elementary school. Wait, which one of you planted the dog ears on Syaoran then?”
Outside, Akagi Aki stumbled out of the Haunted House, clutching his palpitating heart. He was having the worst cultural festival ever, with getting beaten by the formidable Li cousins in basketball earlier, being ridiculed by the soccer team for being defeated by a stuffy businessman, the school doctor, and their precious captain’s lovely sisters in qipaos, then scrambling through that never-ending haunted house of horrors, only to have Tomoyo ditch him in the middle. Clutching his arms, he muttered, “Spiders, spiders are crawling up my body.”
“Aki-senpai, are you okay?” asked Miho, rushing up to him.
Pale in the face, Aki tried to stand, but collapsed to his knees again. Another group of students came running out of the Haunted House, screeching down the hallway.
Miho blinked, turning to her classroom. “I know it should be pretty scary, since I created it, but it can’t be that bad, right?”
“T-there was something slithering and slimy in there, that follows you around, and it just creeps up to you and leaves a chill in your body that you can’t get rid of,” said Aki, teeth clattering. “It must have been a g-g-ghost. Something about this school’s been off. Even that day when Tomoyo-chan fell off the ladder, the shattered window when there was no baseball thrown from the field, and the strange sounds coming from the corridors at night.”
Miho frowned. “Well, I did plant a vat of slime for the final surprise at the end of the Haunted House, but it couldn't have been that much.” Then she sensed the Sakura Cards. “I see.” She patted Aki’s back sympathetically. “You’re a trooper, Aki-senpai. Really.” Curiously, she watched a life-size teddy bear plod out from the back exit, followed by Sakura, who was unusually rumpled.
And for years afterward, Class 1-2’s Haunted House would remain a legend as Seijou High School’s scariest experience ever.
******
“They’re late, everyone’s late!” Naoko pranced around the auditorium, taking attendance and making sure all the cast members were changing into costumes, muttering to herself, “Something bad is going to happen, and I don’t like this at all.”
“Why are you so convinced something’s going to happen?” asked Li Dairen, who shouldn’t even be in the auditorium yet.
“It’s a play that my class is producing,” said Naoko, hands raised up dramatically. “Of course something’s bound to happen. And who let you in? The doors don’t open until a quarter to.”
“I just came out of Class 1-2’s Haunted House. I needed a place to recover, and it was quiet in here,” said Dairen, loosening his necktie.
“Oh, it was awesome, wasn’t it?” said Naoko, eyes sparkling. “That was the best haunted house I’ve ever been in.”
Dairen raised a black brow, for this was the most animated he had seen the girl all day long. “You’re a pretty gutsy girl, aren’t you? What went on there is not for the faint of heart.”
“Yeah, that contortionist ghost-girl was a nice touch, though I wasn’t a big fan of the slime business, nor the creepy-crawlies. Poor Aki though—I wonder if he made it through, he got slimed.” Naoko glanced down at her watch. “Oh dear, Sakura-chan and the others are late again. Do you think it is a demon, ghoul, ghost or some dark force?”
This made Dairen turned to the glassed girl sharply. “Excuse me?”
“Hopefully they catch it before the play starts,” said Naoko with a contemplative frown. “I just really pray it doesn’t slime its way onto the stage and ruin all the props.”
“Wait, you know about the whole Card Captor business?” asked Dairen in shock.
Naoko remarked, “Oh, is that what you call them? Cute. I always called them yokai exterminators in my head.”
“How did you—no when did you find out?” asked Dairen, unusually tongue-tied. “Do others know as well?”
“Well, most of our immediate friends who have been in the same elementary, middle and high school as them,” said Naoko. “There is a limit to how many holes we collectively have in our memories whenever there is some supernatural business, with Sakura and Syaoran around, before we figured out something was strange.”
“And you never said anything to them?” Dairen said.
Naoko stared up at him through her round silver spectacles. “It would trouble
Sakura, and we don’t want her to have to worry about us. I know what she does
can be dangerous and that at times, she has protected us all from unseen
forces. And if we can protect her by pretending not to know, that is what we
would do. Because we are her friends. So, don’t let her know that we know,
okay?”
Dairen blinked. “I do not get your logic, but your secret is safe with me.”
“So, are you one of the magical Lis or the non-magical one?” remarked Naoko. “Based on your hair color, you shouldn’t be.”
He asked, amused, “You think magic powers are related to hair color?”
“Yes, my theory is that Meilin-chan and Jinyu-senpai both have black hair, so they are non-magical, while Syaoran-kun, his sisters, and Li Leiyun-sensei all have magic,” remarked Naoko. “I used to think the Lis were a vampire clan—Li-sensei and Jinyu-san certainly seem like the undead—but werewolf seems to match Syaoran better.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but hair color is unrelated to magic powers,” said Dairen. “And I’m not sure vampires exist.”
“Of course they do, somewhere. And you haven’t answered my initial question,” said Naoko. Did that mean Dairen did have magic powers then?
But Leiyun stormed up to the center of the stage and barked across the auditorium, “Where’s the concert master?”
Naoko said, “I’ve got to get back to duties. Go save a seat, Dairen-san—I recommend not sitting too close to the stage. It could be potentially dangerous.”
“Are you actually warning me, a Li Clan Inner Council magician?” Dairen mumbled to himself.
Suspiciously eying her older cousin, Meilin slinked up beside Naoko and remarked, “When did you get so well-acquainted with Dairen?”
“I didn’t. I just met him earlier this morning,” said Naoko. “He needed someone to show him round the campus.”
“I’m not sure what he is doing here, at a high school cultural festival, when he always purports to be so busy,” remarked Meilin.
Naoko asked nonchalantly, “What sort of person is Li Dairen?”
“Dairen?” Meilin asked with a scowl. “He’s the cream of the crop of the elite. He got his MBA at Harvard and returned to Hong Kong last year. He’s always been the brains of the family—he was not placed as the youngest VP of Li Group because of nepotism but for his actual skills. But though he may look straight-laced, he’s quite a womanizer. I heard from Cousin Fanren he only dates beautiful supermodels and wealthy socialites.”
“You don’t seem to like this cousin of yours,” remarked Naoko.
“No,” said Meilin. “He’s not a very nice person. He judges people by their wealth, power, and usefulness to him, in that order.”
“He didn’t seem entirely like that kind of person,” murmured Naoko.
“He didn’t bully you too badly while you were taking him around? I’m sorry you got stuck with him—I know he’s obnoxious without even trying to be,” said Meilin.
“No, he was actually very courteous and nice,” said Naoko.
Meilin tilted her head. “Well, that’s rare.”
But Meilin did not get a chance to ruminate further because Leiyun called out, “Has nobody found the concert master yet? Tardiness is unacceptable!”
“Syaoran’s not back yet?” Tomoyo glanced at Eriol. “He headed here before we did.”
“Well, Sakura-chan hasn’t returned yet, either,” remarked Chiharu. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen her since she headed into the Haunted House. Do you think she’s all right?”
“Now, that was an awesome haunted house,” said Takashi. “She probably isn’t all right, if she went in there.”
“Look, it’s a teddy bear!” exclaimed Rika, pointing to the back of the auditorium. “Who is that?”
“His gait is like Li-kun’s,” remarked Takashi.
“No way!” said Chiharu.
Tomoyo rushed to Sakura and the bear. “What took you guys so long? Didn’t you leave before we did?”
Heart balloons in one hand and pink cotton candy in the other, Sakura giggled. “All the children spotted Syaoran-bear and flocked to him for photos. They wouldn’t leave him alone. He was the star of the cultural festival.”
“Well, hurry and get changed, Li-kun,” said Naoko.
“Changed?” asked Syaoran.
Leiyun smirked. “Yes, the orchestra is getting dressed too. Tomoyo prepared Rococo-style costumes for all of us.”
“Of course she would,” muttered Syaoran as Tomoyo ushered him backstage to the changing room.
“Lucky your outfit comes with a cap—you need it because of your ears,” whispered Tomoyo, holding up a feathered navy cap, with a matching waistcoat over a cream-colored shirt with billowing cream-colored shirt.
Backstage, Syaoran popped off the teddy-bear head, nearly suffocated in the furry suit. His wolf-ears perked as he heard laugher behind him.
Smacking his thigh, Leiyun guffawed. “What happened to you? So, are you a wolf in bear’s skin? Or a bear in wolf’s skin? Oh, Syaoran, I knew the day would come when you actually turned into a doggy. I have to tell your sisters. Wait let me take a picture.” He held up his smartphone.
“Don’t you dare!” growled Syaoran. He spun around and pointed at Eriol. “I’m not actually possessed by some dog-demon, am I? You put a hex on me on purpose, didn’t you? What did I ever do to you?”
Eriol smirked. “It really is an Inugami, unfortunately, so it’s not on me. Hopefully the yokai leaves you soon. Then again, the look suits you well. Almost as much as the bear getup.”
******
The high school corridors seemed to be a place that forever remained frozen in time, and Kinomoto Touya turned to his best friend of nearly a decade. “We made it in time for Sakura’s play, right?”
“Yup, it’s great we both adjusted our shifts to take the afternoon off,” said Tsukishiro Yukito, holding up the concert program. “How nostalgic, returning to our old high school like this.”
“It is, isn’t it?” said Touya softly. “Where we spent every day for three years of our lives—nothing seems to have changed.”
“Except us—we’re older,” Yukito said.
Fuutie and Shiefa caught sight of the handsome pair in front of the auditorium and ran up to them. “Touya! Yukito!” both of them squealed in unison.
“Syaoran’s sisters,” Touya said stiltedly, recognizing them immediately though he could not for the life of him tell which one was which.
Shiefa wrapped her arms around Touya’s neck and exclaimed, “How can you get handsomer and younger-looking than when you were in high school?”
Yukito laughed. “Touya aged prematurely.”
Shiefa, loosening her grip on Touya, turned to the silver-haired Yukito with round glasses, who had grown from a delicate-looking teenager to a delectable man.
“I heard from Jingmei that you are both doctors at the hospital she works at,” remarked Fuutie. “I was hoping to catch a glimpse of both of you. It almost seems like you’ve been avoiding us all this time!”
Touya and Yukito were somewhat of celebrities at Seijou High, and flocks of current students gawked at the two, snapping pictures of them, whispering, “It’s Sakura-chan’s older brother and the legendary MVP Yukito-sama. Oh my gosh, they’re friends with Syaoran’s sisters from Hong Kong!”
Fuutie spun around and declared, “Well, shouldn’t we head into the auditorium now? Syaoran’s class is putting on a school play. Cinderella.”
At this, Touya paled. “They’re putting on Cinderella?”
Yukito laughed. “What did you think you were helping her out for? You spent the past week coaching her in violin for the play.”
“I don’t know, I didn’t ask,” said Touya. “Why Cinderella—there’s hundreds of fairytales to choose from!”
Shiefa said gleefully, “I know you played Cinderella when you were in high school! You were so charming! And Yukito, you played the Mackerel Fairy Godmother so charmingly.”
“H-how did you know?” demanded Touya.
“Tomoyo-chan videotaped the performance, you know,” said Shiefa. “It’s been circulating online for years now.”
Even Tomoyo felt a bit jittery as she peeked out of the curtains and saw that the auditorium was packed with people—not just students and teachers but parents, siblings, friends from other rival schools and even Syaoran’s sisters and cousins. Yukito waved at her from the audience, next to Touya, and she waved back, glad to see they made it on time—Sakura would be delighted.
Tomoyo glanced up at the sound of squealing girls back stage. “Li-sensei looks so handsome in the white waistcoat. He looks like he should be a fairytale prince,” sighed one of her classmates.
Leiyun was dashing in an ivory and silver tailcoat and cravat, cut perfectly to his figure, and he looked over her way and smiled slightly. “Should I say break a leg, Director?”
Tomoyo said, “Already did that. Then I’ll leave the music to you, Li-sensei, come what may.”
And Leiyun’s eyes flashed aqua blue. “It shall be an interesting performance.”
But Tomoyo was already distracted as Sakura stepped out in a deep emerald dress, cut square in the neck with beautifully slashed sleeves and golden embroidery shaped like butterflies and little flowers. A green velvet choker with a tear-shaped peridot drop glimmered from her slender neck. Meilin was in an equally brilliant dress, a deep fuchsia gown with flared sleeves lined with teal ribbons and ruffles.
“I thought they were supposed to be the ugly, evil stepsisters,” remarked Syaoran wryly.
“Do you think Tomoyo would allow ugliness on her stage?” asked Kai, cocking a brow. “I mean, look at Erika’s Cinderella rags. Not really rags, per say.”
A pouty Erika was wearing a prim collared grey-blue dress with a starched patchwork apron. Her hair was tied back with a strip of ribbon, and she had a straw broom in one hand.
“She doesn’t make a very convincing Cinderella,” remarked Kai, adjusting his black cape.
Meilin shook her head. “Well, you don’t make a very convincing fairy godmother either. Why are you wearing a black cape again?”
Kai shrugged. “Hey, I’m not the one who wrote the script or designed the costumes.”
Tomoyo said, “I originally designed that outfit for Kai-kun as a battle costume, but all the heavy chain links and buckles clink horribly, and he said the outfit is not conducive to thievery. But it was such a waste to let the outfit go to waste, so we worked it in as his fairy godmother costume. Eriol-kun wrote the character with some edge, after all, and I think it matches Kai.”
“Yeah, if he was playing the Grim Reaper,” muttered Syaoran, who was positively moping in the corner as he pulled his cap more tightly over his head.
“Kai, my hair’s already flat—it’s going to look limp by the third act,” said Erika, pointing to her curls.
“Hop on chair,” said Kai, pointing to the hair and makeup chair. He pulled out a heating iron and proceeded to add more curls into Erika’s luxurious violet-red hair, twisting them around in his fingers for extra flourish.
“More hairspray,” said Erika. “The stuff that you use on your hair to defy all rules of gravity—don’t keep the good stuff just for yourself.”
“Yes, yes,” said Kai, spraying Erika’s curls generously.
Coughing through the mist of hairspray and powder, Meilin asked, “When did Kai become the play’s hairstylist?”
“Well, Tomoyo-chan can’t be around everywhere, and my role is minimal anyway, so I have a lot of time at hand,” said Kai.
“He really is a real-life fairy godmother,” remarked Sakura, touching her golden-brown hair, curled tendrils pinned up expertly with crystal pins by Kai.
Meilin said sourly, “What, did your model ex-girlfriends make you do their hair for them?”
Kai replied with a laugh. “No, my mother is a dunce with her hands, and my little sister had the loveliest long auburn curls, so I would braid them for her every morning.” Then he heaved a long sigh. “And she has short hair now and refuses to grow it out.”
“Everybody get into place!” called out Naoko, the stage manager. “My goodness, Li-kun, you have to be down in the orchestra pit—what are you doing here, you’re the concert master, aren’t you, and where’s your violin? Kai-kun, you don’t come out until Act Two—why are you already in your cape and getting everyone tangled in it? Erika there you are! You look lovely, now rub some soot on your face, cover up your hair with a kerchief and look sad! And please do wipe off that lipstick—it’s not in character. Also, has anyone even seen Li Jinyu-senpai? I know he doesn’t come out until the next act, but he should be changed into costume.”
Erika grumbled, wiping off her hot pink lipstick, “I’m wearing drab, do I have to look like drab?”
“Gosh, that stage manager is bossy,” remarked Kara, in a high-collared mauve gown with pearl buttons. “What a nag. I want to turn her into a pumpkin.”
“You still can,” remarked Leiyun, arms crossed. “Or should I?”
And Erika swerved around and shrilly declared, “You better not! I’m the star of this play, remember! Nobody messes with my stage.”
Kara rolled her eyes. “Someone’s getting all diva on us. Fine, I won’t turn your annoying stage manager into a pumpkin. I’m sure Jin-jin will keep her hands full anyway.”
“Oh my gosh, Li-sensei—you’re supposed to be down in the orchestra pit too, tuning the musicians or whatever conductors do,” exclaimed Naoko, wrangling her hands in the air. “Li-kun, what are you still doing in that corner like a moping puppy? All you Lis are hopeless! Except you, Meilin-chan, you’re perfect as usual—you make the perfect ugly evil stepsister!”
“Thanks?” said Meilin dubiously.
Glancing around in panic for the missing Li, Naoko demanded, “Where is Jinyu-senpai? He’s the main character!”
“I’m the main character,” reminded Erika. She glanced around the stage and marched toward the backstage dressing room. “Are you finished changing yet, Jinyu-senpai? Or did you get swaddled in all the lace and fabric?”
Jinyu stepped out of the room, shirt unbuttoned to his waist, sleeves and ribbons flapping about him. “I don’t understand how this outfit works.”
Naoko blushed as she glimpsed Jinyu’s chiseled abdomen—and was that a dragon tattooed up his arm? She stammered, “Erika, can you help fix him up? I have to go check on the rest of the crew.”
“Coward,” muttered Erika. She stared at Jinyu’s prince outfit, far more elaborate than her own smock. “Um, I think this part is supposed to be buttoned here.” It wasn’t the first time she had seen his bare chest, but she felt heat in her cheeks under the bright stage lights as her fingers brushed his skin by accident. “And this tunic is supposed to be buckled under here, I believe.” Darned Tomoyo and her impossibly complex outfits.
“Oh, there you are Jinyu-senpai,” said Tomoyo, coming with a heavy blue mantle for the prince. “Thank you Erika-chan, I see you’ve helped Jinyu-senpai with his costume.”
Erika stepped back with scrutiny and remarked, “It’s a fabulously detailed costume, but he doesn’t look very princely. He looks like Villain No. 1, the kind who doesn’t even get a name in a film but is still badass enough to have one line of dialogue.”
Tomoyo tilted her head and had to agree with Erika’s assessment. “I think it’s the hair, the way his bangs just hang into his face and creates a shadow.” And Tomoyo had the nerve to step up and brush back some of Jinyu’s bangs that always hid half of his face, revealing high cheekbones, a delicate jawline and classic nose.
“Oh, Jinyu-senpai’s quite handsome,” whispered Chiharu. “He’s always glowering with all that hair hanging into his face, I never realized it till today.”
Trying her luck, Tomoyo untied Jinyu’s hair from his tight ribbons and let his ink black hair fell in long silky tresses down his back. “Oh, your hair is so beautiful!” Tomoyo gushed. “And so long!”
“Like some mythical ancient Chinese emperor,” sighed Naoko. In his black and silver garments, with a silver diadem on his brows, and his midnight hair flowing around him, there indeed was a regal air about him.
“He looks more like a Demon King than Prince Charming,” remarked Meilin.
“Well, at least he looks like royalty?” said Rika.
“If by royalty you mean king of the underground mafia,” muttered Erika.
“Tomoyo-chan, don’t tell me you casted Jinyu-senpai as the prince just to get a chance to see him with his hair down,” whispered Sakura, equally amazed by the transformation the hairstyle could make on the Black Dragon.
With a cackle, Tomoyo replied, “It was worth the torture of getting him to learn his lines and the anxiety that he may not, all these past weeks.”
“We have 5 minutes till curtain,” called out Aki. He did a double take at the majestic man with long black hair like a black veil around him, standing tall in dark tunic, sword strapped to his waist, like a brooding medieval knight out of a fairytale story. “Who is that? Wait, don’t tell me that’s Jinyu-senpai?”
Tomoyo fastened the blue cloak over Jinyu’s shoulders for his first scene, where he would appear in disguise. “Don’t worry too much about getting the lines all right, Jinyu-senpai. To date, I haven’t produced a school play which went exactly as scripted.”
“I think Erika would have my head if I don’t get my lines right,” said Jinyu solemnly.
Tomoyo glanced up at the Jinyu in mild amusement as she clasped the last buckle
of the cloak. Who would have thought the Black Dragon had a sense of black
humor?
The first act opened, and Yukito whispered to his best friend from the audience seats, “I didn’t realize Sakura-chan was playing an evil stepsister.”
“Yeah, she didn’t tell me either,” said Touya, with digital camera in hand. “What was she practicing violin every night for then? Well thank goodness she’s not playing the lead this time around.”
Yukito chuckled. “What an odd thing to say. Besides, you have little to worry about. Syaoran’s first violin over there in the orchestra pit.”
“Good,” Touya said, turning his attention back to the stage to the dramatic opening scene, queasy thinking about his own foray into acting back in high school.
Erika, personifying Cinderella, collapsed over a canopy bed, clutching Yamazaki Takashi’s limp hand. “Father! Don’t leave me. You can’t die! Please, Father. You have to live! You can’t leave me all alone in this harsh and lonesome world.”
Sakura dabbed the corner of her eyes with the edge of a sleeve.
Meilin, playing Cinderella’s other stepsister, hissed, “What are you doing, you’re not supposed to cry!”
Sakura swallowed and nodded, but noticed Meilin’s eyes were misty too.
“Who would have thought? That witch is a good actress. Actually, a very good actress,” remarked Miho to Nakuru, who was seated to the other side of Touya. It was barely five minutes into the play, and many of the audience’s eyes were already moist.
“Well, she was quite convincing as Rosalind in the Star-Crossed musical two years ago,” replied Nakuru with a shrug. “Though I always thought it was because the character was so in sync with her actual personality. But she can pull of abandoned orphan very well—oh wait, I forgot, she has experience in that field as well.”
The evil stepsisters and stepmother, played by a dazzling Kara Reed, strutted out onto the center of the stage.
“Cinderella, you are to live in the attic from now on, and eat meals with the servants,” said Kara, pushing Erika to the side.
“Cinderella, mend the tear in my favorite dress,” said Meilin, throwing a heap of clothes into Erika’s arms, clearly enjoying herself.
“Mine too,” said Sakura heaping another dress on top of Erika. When Erika staggered, she asked, “Do you need a hand? I mean, hurry up! Please.”
Shaking her head, Nakuru from the audience muttered, “Sakura is hopeless as an evil stepsister. I swear, she’s going to kneel down with Cinderella and wipe the floor along with her or something.”
“Erika-senpai is something—I can’t believe she memorized all those lines so quickly,” said Miho.
“Maybe she practiced with Eron at home,” said Nakuru. “Though then she would have been reading the Prince’s lines.”
They were now in the second act, the much anticipated scene of the entrance of the Prince and his first meeting with Cinderella in the woods.
Erika turned over the basket of laundry and ran out into the woods behind Cinderella’s manor house. “I can’t. I can’t live like this anymore. Cinderella, do the dishes. Cinderella, feed the cat. Cinderella this, Cinderella that. Oh Mother, Father, why did you have to leave me all alone in this cold and cruel world? This is not the life you envisioned for me is it? There must be something greater for me out there?”
And at this moment, the gallant Prince emerged from the woods. Except, he was disguised, without his diadem, his royal sword and crest on his tunic concealed by a navy blue mantle. “Who are you?” he demanded.
Erika wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her sleeves, leaving a streak of soot on her face. “Quite rude, aren’t you? You are the intruder here. You should first declare who you are.”
“I am the prince of this kingdom,” he replied.
“Sure you are, and I am your fairy godmother,” said Erika, arms akimbo.
“Well then, if you are my fairy godmother, you should be able to grant me a wish,” said Jinyu.
Erika blinked up at coyly at Jinyu. “If it is within my powers, perhaps.”
“All I want is a sip of water. I am dying of thirst, and I have wandered far and wide and am quite lost,” he replied.
“That is a very humble enough wish,” replied Erika. “I can grant it to you, as there is a well just around the corner. But that proves you cannot be the Prince—for a prince would ask for something much grander, like peace with our warring neighbors or ending poverty for all the citizens or endless wealth and power.”
“You seem to be well acquainted with the wishes of the sovereign ruler of a kingdom,” remarked Jinyu.
Erika drew an imaginary bucket of water from the cardboard well. She handed it to Jinyu. “Not as well as you, I would think, Your Royal Highness,” she said with a sarcastic curtsy. “While you’re at it, maybe you would like some bread as well.” She drew a bun from her apron.
He took it and devoured it hungrily—that wasn’t acting since Jinyu had missed lunch. Erika took another bun and handed it to him too, not a part of the script.
“Now, maybe you can enlighten me as to why you have wandered into our humble lodgings,” said Erika.
“The Old King expects me to marry, and is throwing a grand ball inviting all the eligible young ladies in the kingdom, and beyond, which I do not feel obligated to attend.”
“The Old King. Your grandfather,” said Erika, in a tone that clearly showed that she thought him to be daft or a liar.
“Well, yes. I hate feeling trapped, like some goldfish in a bowl, as if everything is set out for me. So, I ran away.”
“Why?” Erika asked. “You have a grandfather who loves you and cares enough to see you married to the most eligible of eligible young ladies in this kingdom and the next, and you live in the royal palace and probably have had everything you’ve wished for with the crook of your finger.”
“That is not so,” replied Jinyu. “There was never a moment I did not work hard to carry my name with honor and dignity, as to not let down my mother.”
“Your mother?”
“My mother—my mother, the princess, fell in love with a commoner,” said Jinyu. “The royal family did not approve of him and barred her from the palace.”
“The rumors were true then,” said Erika. “What happened to your mother?”
“The man she loved abandoned her because he had only been enticed by her wealth, and she died alone, penniless, in the poorhouse,” he replied.
“And you?”
“After her death, I was taken to the palace and raised there, and my grandfather never let me speak of her.”
Erika raised an eyebrow. “I see. So you have tried your hardest to live up to your royal heritage as the best heir apparent possible, so that nobody could point fingers at your mother and blame her if you messed up. Well then, what’s the use of all your hard work if one little ball scares you. You are not a coward, are you? If you are brave, you will confront your fears and obstacles. I mean, if you are the rumored Prince, you have slayed dragons, road to victory in battles against rival kingdoms and worked toward combatting poverty in this nation. You can’t be serious that eligible young ladies frighten you.”
Jinyu stiffened.
“Or maybe it’s the prospect of love. Because, if you are the prince, then you are not free to love whom you choose. Was that not the case for your mother? She fell in love with the wrong person. My advice to you, Prince Charming who would eat stale bread I meant to feed my mice with, is head back home and think, what does family and honor mean. Then, maybe you will have the answer to what true courage is.”
At this, Jinyu replied with a bow, “Milady, that appears to be sound advice. I thank you for the water and the bread meant for your mice. I shall remain your humble servant and will ask to take my leave now. I shall head on home.” And he marched on off.
Erika sighed, hands on hips. “And while you are at it, Your Royal Highness, you are heading in the absolutely wrong direction. The royal palace is the other way.”
“Ah, I see.” And Jinyu swerved around and marched off toward the other direction. He turned over and called out, “You will be coming to the royal ball in a fortnight, will you not?”
With a shrug, she replied, “If I can find something to wear.”
“Will you still not tell me your name?”
“They call me Cinderella,” said Erika.
“But that is not your true name,” the Prince said.
“No, it is not.”
Next scene cut back to Cinderella’s house, and stepmother Kara pranced onto the stage in a brilliant violet satin gown with black lace trimmings. Her hair was gathered back in an elegant chignon, and amethyst jewels adorned her golden tresses, looking as if she had stepped out of a 18th century Rococo painting as she fanned herself with a black lace fan.
“I shall like to go to the ball too,” said Erika, clutching a broom, with a wistful sigh.
“Are you joking?” asked Kara. “You would disgrace our family if you appeared like that, soot-covered and in rags, like a beggar child. Stay home like a good girl, Cinders, and we’ll tell you all about the ball later.”
Cinderella watched her stepmother and stepsisters, clad in their finest attire, depart for the ball.
In her tattered dress, Erika collapsed by a large orange pumpkin. “Oh, I wish I can go to the ball too,” she sighed. “I can imagine, there will be beautiful ladies and princesses from faraway kingdoms wearing the most lovely dresses and brilliant jewels. I wonder if the Prince, if he really was the prince, will be there too. Will he look for me?”
There was a magnificent poof of black smoke on the stage. “If you wish to go to the ball, then you shall go to the ball, my dear.”
“Who are you supposed to be?” gasped Erika, standing up.
Mizuki Kai flipped black his bejeweled black cloak and bowed elegantly, his entrance in itself earning applause and squeals of glee from the audience. “You may call me your fairy godmother.”
“Well took you long enough. So, are you going to send me to the ball?” Erika demanded, hands on hips.
He tipped her chin up with the crook of his finger. “What will you give me in return?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be my fairy godmother, here to grant my any wish?”
“Fairy godmother, evil sea witch, demon, or guardian angel. What’s the difference?” drawled Kai. “I can help you if help is what you indeed need. What do you wish for, my child?”
“I told you, I need to get to the ball. I need a fabulous ball gown and transportation,” said Erika.
“According to the principle of equivalent exchange, you will have to give me something back of equal value,” was his eerie response.
Erika blinked. “You’re the magician or sorcerer or evil witch or whatever you are. What could you possibly want from powerless little me?”
His white teeth flashed as he grinned devilishly. “Maybe your heart or your pretty voice. Maybe your firstborn child or your name. What should I ask for? What will you give?”
“You can have my firstborn child,” said Erika with a crooked smile. “I will need my name, heart and voice if I’m going to win over the Prince, after all.”
“Are you sure you would want to barter away your unborn child?” asked Kai.
Erika replied, “I’d rather give up something I’ve never had than something I already have and will know the loss of.”
“As you wish, ma cherie,” said Kai. He took out a fancy staff with a crescent moon and called out, “Moon prism power! Make up!”
There was a glow of light and Erika twirled around, finding herself in a voluminous cornflower blue gown bejeweled with crystals. The audience gasped at the seamless costume change, murmuring, “Is that CGI?” Miho instantly understood why Tomoyo had cast her brother as the fairy godmother.
“And a pumpkin carriage, horses and footmen,” said Kai, waving his staff and the stage hands pushed the glittery cardboard carriage and horse prop on the stage. “Well?”
“It’s all right, I guess,” said Erika.
“You’re not grateful much, are you?”
Erika shrugged. “Well, thank goodness I have my natural beauty.”
“Thank goodness for your ego,” muttered Kai. “Remember, you have to return before midnight or the spell would break.”
“What a shoddy spell with a time limit,” remarked Erika. “Is that the best you can do?”
“That’s why it’s just a spell and the easy way out,” said Kai. “You can always go in those rags and get the Prince to see you as you really are. An orphan child with nothing to her name.”
“No thanks,” replied Erika. “This dress can make me, even an orphan with nothing to my name, a magical princess for one night.”
“Shoes. You would need magnificent shoes befitting a princess,” drawled Kai. “They say great shoes will take you to great places.” And he snapped his fingers.
Erika lifted up her skirt to reveal her feet clad in a pair of dainty glass slippers. “Thanks, I guess. You aren’t too shoddy of a godmother to have around.” And her odd fairy godmother waved as she departed on the pumpkin carriage to the castle.
As the curtain closed for a scene change, Nakuru fanned herself with her concert program and remarked, “You know, for all her complaining, Kara Reed is surprisingly a natural on stage.”
Miho chuckled. “Obviously, since her father was the original Kaitou Magician. Leon Reed apparently dabbled in stage acting during his early penniless street magician days, according to onii-chan.”
The next act cut to the well-anticipated ballroom scene. A prop chandelier and a backdrop of a meticulously painted castle dropped down, and the extras filed on the stage in colorful ball gowns and frock coats.
From a nearby audience seat, Dairen turned to Shiefa. “I didn’t realize high school plays have such large budgets—the costumes, set, and special effects beat anything I’ve been on Broadway and West End put together.”
“Well, with Tomoyo as the director, I wouldn’t expect anything less,” replied Shiefa. “Now hush, the third act is beginning.”
Prince Jinyu, long black hair streaming over his shoulders, in a regal indigo and gold waistcoat, did not have to act to look bored. He was plenty bored seated on the golden dragon throne as the young court ladies flocked into the ballroom. Tomoyo tried not to frown as she noticed he was texting under his mantle, not too discreetly.
Aki, the Herald, whispered, “Cinderella just made her entrance. I think you’re supposed to be mesmerized by her stunning beauty and go straight toward her.”
Jinyu stood up automatically, leapt down the pedestal, and stiltedly bowed to Erika, dressed in a glittery blue ball gown. The two had glazed over the actual dance sequence during rehearsal yesterday because they had been struggling even to get the lines straight, and Erika felt a sense of panic.
A dreamy waltz drifted out from the orchestra pit. Jinyu politely offered his hand and they began the waltz. Once more, Erika was surprised to find that Jinyu could waltz and apparently very accurately. She had been so sure he would have no sense of rhythm, but he was actually quite passable if he hadn’t been glowering.
“So, do all you Lis take ballroom dancing or something when you’re young?” asked Erika sarcastically, nonetheless impressed as Jinyu swirled her around.
“Yes.”
Erika snorted. “Really?”
“The Great Elder believed that dance teaches very important lessons on rhythm, coordination and balance,” said Jinyu with an absolute straight face. “Also, we make convenient partners for our female cousins for their debutante ball when they come of age.”
This actually made her laugh out loud. “Debutante ball? How pretentious!”
Jinyu swirled her around mechanically, and caught her by her waist as her skirt swished around her. She snuck a glance at Leiyun who was conducting away as if his life depended on it. She was sure the dance should be over by now, but it seemed like the orchestra was repeating the measure over again, as if to prolong the endless waltz.
Then there was a startling vibrating sound. There was a hush. “Someone’s phone is ringing on stage,” groaned Naoko from backstage.
Jinyu frowned and then fumbled inside his trouser pocket, one hand still around Erika’s waist. And he adjusted his Bluetooth headset and placed it to his ear. “What is it? Make it quick. I’m in the middle of something.”
“Oh my goodness, he actually picked up his phone,” whispered Meilin from a corner of the stage.
Kara remarked behind her fan, “He’s always on call—depending on whether he does or not, a neck can be slit or saved.”
Jinyu’s black brows came down. “Okay, I got it. Wait—it’s hard to hear because of the music. I’ll find somewhere quiet.”
“Where are you going?” hissed Erika. “It’s going to strike midnight, and I’m going to drop my glass shoe now.”
“Sorry, it’s urgent,” replied Jinyu.
The clock struck midnight. Erika kicked off a glass slipper and declared, “You’ve got to chase after me.”
Jinyu glanced over his shoulder, flinging off his cape.
“You can’t just leave me!” exclaimed Erika.
“I have to handle this.”
She mumbled, “What’s so important they can’t solve this without you?”
“Kitagawa’s gone missing,” said Jinyu shortly.
Heaving a long sigh, Erika said, “Fine then, go.” She then nodded to Tomoyo, narrating off the corner of the stage. With a dramatic toss of her head, Erika turned toward the audience and exclaimed, “What do you mean you are not the real prince?”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you. Forgive me.” Jinyu at least picked up the glass slipper, and leaped over the orchestra pit and into the crowd, leaving everyone on stage frozen, stupefied.
Syaoran nearly dropped his bow, and his violin squeaked. Leiyun snickered. The audience gasped as the stage suddenly blackened, and Cinderella ran after the Prince who claimed he was not the real prince.
Tomoyo, without batting an eyelash, tossed the rest of the script over her shoulder and continued her narration. “Yes, in fact Prince Dracon was not the real crown prince at all. He was a decoy prince. Dracon was summoned to fulfill an important mission in the next kingdom over, and Cinderella pursued after him as a proof of her love for him though he had deceived her about his identity.”
“Wait, so if he’s the fake prince, then where is the real prince?” drawled Kara.
“The real crown prince was in fact Dracon’s cousin, Prince Lupin, who was a skilled violinist, and had been watching over the ballroom disguised as a court musician from the sidelines, unbeknownst to everybody else, in search for someone,” Tomoyo continued solemnly, nodding at Eriol as he caught her eyes over the grand piano. “He had a reason to be doing so. Because he was under a terrible curse.”
The spotlight fell straight on the first seat of the orchestra. Syaoran looked up in a daze, violin and bow in hand, a silver Venetian mask covering the top half of his face.
“The ball had actually been hosted because Prince Lupin was searching for a girl. The girl who would come and break his curse. But she had to find him first,” said Tomoyo.
A gleaming spotlight fell on a girl on stage in a brilliant canary yellow taffeta dress. “Hoe?” Sakura blinked up at the blinding light, vaguely registering that Jinyu had rushed off the stage.
“Meanwhile, Cinderella’s stepsister, Belle, had often visited court in her childhood with her family as her late father had been a count. It was her first time returning to court in many years,” Tomoyo said. “Belle had often heard that in the sealed of West Wing of the castle lived what could be called a creature, or as some would call him, a Werewolf, or simply the Beast.”
From off stage, Kai clapped his hand three times, and Syaoran disappeared from the orchestra pit. Leiyun waved his conductor’s baton without blinking an eye, calling upon the flutes to come in with a titillating new prelude. Because of the perilous glint in Leiyun’s piercing blue eyes, the confused orchestra dared not miss a beat and continued playing, as if their lives depended upon it relying solely on their demonic conductor’s cues.
All the lights came on again, and Kai appeared on the stage with a poof besides Sakura. “Act surprised, and follow my lead” he whispered to her.
Sakura nodded and asked out loud, “Who are you?”
“You may call me your fairy godmother, or cupid, or a simply wandering magician passing by at midnight,” replied Kai, with a dramatic swirl his long black cape.
“My stepsister has disappeared. I think she was kidnapped. I have to find her,” said Sakura. “Can you help me?”
“Perhaps,” said Kai. “But in return, you must break the curse.”
“What curse?”
“The curse on this castle,” he said, holding up his hand in fingerless black leather gloves. “Before the last petal on the rose falls, you must find him and save him. Or else, great destruction will fall on everyone.”
“Who am I supposed to find and save?” asked Sakura.
“You must find the answer yourself,” said Kai. “Or, I can give you a hint, but you must pay the price then. Perhaps your lovely name, your beauty, your time, or your freedom.”
“I know,” said Sakura with a sudden mischievous smile. “I have a very lovely sister. You can have her.”
Kai blinked. “That’s not nice, bargaining away a family member.”
“Well, you see, she’s not my real sister either. She’s actually a princess from another kingdom over—but her evil stepmother is set on killing her because of her beauty. Surely with a fairy godmother by her side, she should be protected,” said Sakura.
“Well, as you wish. Then mine she shall be—no taking back your word,” Kai said. “As for the hint: do not trust appearances.”
“That does not help much, I’m afraid,” said Sakura solemnly. “I guess I will have to break the curse and also find Cinderella with my own power.”
Tomoyo stifled a chuckle and continued, “As she searched through the West Wing of the castle to find any living being, Belle stumbled upon a closed off room and discovered a single rose blooming inside a glass encasement.” She had no doubt in Kaitou Magician’s ability to produce a magnificent prop rose, and he did not disappoint—it was a vivid scarlet rose that defied gravity and levitated on its own in a glass dome encasement.
Backstage, where Kai had deposited him, Syaoran groaned to himself, for he could see very well where the story was going. “I’m not going on,” he hissed as Meilin and Kai tried to shove him toward the stage. “Who’ll play first violin?”
“Who care’s about the background music, for heaven’s sake, when the main actors are gone? Maestro Leiyun has picked up your violin and taken over for you just fine,” said Meilin. “Now go on stage and stall for more time.”
“For how long?” asked Syaoran, tugging at the Venetian-style wolf mask covering half his face. “What is this mask, it’s stuck on my face without any sort of fastening, and it doesn’t budge at all.”
“Kara went to find Jinyu,” said Kai. “She’ll bring him back.”
Ignoring Syaoran’s protests, Tomoyo draped Jinyu’s navy cloak over his gold-trimmed indigo tailcoat as she whispered stage directions to him at an incredible speed, her mike turned off. She fussed with tightening a cravat around his neck, as she asked, “Got it?”
“Of course not! You better track down Jinyu quickly,” Syaoran replied with a scowl, realizing how well the cloak matched the rest of his lavish outfit—which in fact had been odd for merely an unseen violinist in the orchestra pit. “Don’t worry, I won’t mess up your play, if I can help it. Besides, there seems to be a dark force lurking around the auditorium, and the best position to contain it would be from here.” With a long sigh, Syaoran entered the stage as a spotlight glared on his head.
“And finally, Belle met the true owner of the castle, the Wolf,” announced Tomoyo.
Sakura, in her lovely canary-colored ballroom gown, faced Syaoran, standing beside the glass-encased rose. “Are you the ruler of this magical castle?”
“I guess,” replied Syaoran. And he frowned as he glanced off stage. “There’s a dark force here.”
And Sakura sighed at Syaoran inability to adlib. “Yes, I believe that is you, Your Highness.”
“Of course there is a dark force. Wouldn’t be a school play without one appearing,” muttered Syaoran glumly to himself. “So much for all our efforts earlier.”
Tomoyo interrupted with narration. “At first, Belle was intimidated by the Wolf, who was hostile, inarticulate, gruff, and completely unsociable, but she decided to make the best of the situation. After all, she thought he may be the one that her fairy godmother told her needed to be saved. Belle spent her days searching through the many rooms in the West Wing of the castle, which were all surprisingly empty. When she was hungry, the dining hall table was laden with hot, savory food. The Wolf would join her for dinner, whether she liked it or not. And when she tired, she found a room that seemed to be prepared for her to sleep in. Eventually, she grew accustomed to living with the Wolf and perhaps even enjoyed his company in the lonely castle, which served both as his prison and sanctuary.”
Sakura had to try hard to keep a straight face as Syaoran positively gloomed on stage, his wolf ears flattened against his head, though surely this was better than playing Princess Aurora in a garish pink ball gown with macaroni hair. At least he seemed to be in character, playing a tortured, anguished beast.
It was difficult for Tomoyo to keep the laughter from her voice as she continued, “But very night in her dreams, Belle would see a handsome young man with strangely familiar eyes, trapped within a glass cylinder. ‘Who are you?’ she would ask him. He would tell her, ‘Release me from this prison.’ She came to believe that perhaps the prince was being kept prisoner by the evil Wolf. But when she asked how she could help him, the prince told her, ‘You alone can bring me happiness, if you can be happy yourself.’”
“You alone can bring me happiness, if you can be happy yourself,” Sakura repeated out loud. “What in the world does that mean?” Tomoyo was not doing a very good job in setting out a plotline she could follow or giving her any tangible hints.
Tomoyo continued, “The clock roused her by calling her name softly twelve times, and Belle awoke from her dream. During the daytime, she discovered the charming aspects of the magical castle. She had a closet full of beautiful dresses of every hue under the rainbow, lovely velvet cloaks and thick fur-lined capes for the winter. She had an enchanted hand mirror that would show her anything she wanted, from operas to her family back home. She could spend days exploring the different parts of the palace. The gardens outside was lovely, in full bloom though it was off season, and a lovely pavilion where songbirds chirped merrily. One day, she chanced upon the royal gallery.”
On stage, Sakura was impressed to find that Kai had projected a real gallery—some of the paintings she recognized as the artist Shing’s paintings—onto the blank backdrop behind her. But one of the paintings was real—in a gilded frame. It was of a young man with brown hair and amber eyes, in a royal blue tunic lined with gold. The man’s features resembled Ryuuren more than anyone else, but she knew it was a portrait of Syaoran, of how he would probably look in several years as an adult. A Syaoran who may no longer be by her side by then.
“Belle came upon a portrait that caught her eye, for it was of the prince of her dreams,” said Tomoyo.
“Oh, that’s an early version of father’s latest piece!” exclaimed Miho from the audience. “The Little Wolf Grown Up. Father was painting it last year and never completed that particular portrait.”
“Where is this story going, I wonder,” remarked Dairen. “This is the oddest interpretation of Cinderella I’ve ever seen. Was Syaoran supposed to be in the play? And why is he just standing there, glooming—or is that in character?”
Shiefa shrugged. “Oh boy, I better record it. Feimei and Fanren will be bummed they’re missing out on this.”
The Wolf stepped up silently behind Sakura, apparently surprised by his own portrait as well for he gazed at it for a while. In a low voice, he told her, “Do not trust appearances.”
Sakura looked up at him. “What do you mean?” The glass of the frame glinted in the spotlight.
“We’ve got to seal it before it leaves this stage, before the next performance comes on,” murmured Syaoran. His eyes flickered to the rose in the glass encasement in the center of the stage.
Tomoyo narrated rapidly, “Weeks passed since she came to live at the palace, and Belle, in her own way, grew fond of the Wolf who was gruff on the outside but always watching out for her. When he realized she was no longer afraid of him, he showed her his library full of millions of books of all languages. They took strolls along the gardens and shared every meal together. But one day, Belle saw in the Wolf’s enchanted mirror that her other sister was very ill, lying in bed in a deathlike sleep.”
Sakura said, setting down the hand mirror, “My sister is dying! Oh, I have to go to her.”
The Wolf told her, “Then you must go to see her.”
“What do you mean?” Sakura asked, wondering how much longer they had to draw out the play. “You don’t want me to stay anymore?”
“No, you are free to go. You are no longer my prisoner,” he said.
“I wasn’t here because I was your prisoner,” said Sakura. “I stayed here out of my own free will. And I promise I will return.”
“Take this with you and remember me,” said Syaoran, handing her the silver mirror.
“I can’t take such a precious item to you. It’s your only window to the outside world,” replied Sakura.
He smiled. “Please, take it. I already know what my desire is. Look into it to know what you truly desire.”
Tomoyo said in a sorrowful voice, “But little did Belle know that the curse must be broken before the last rose petal falls. Otherwise, slowly, the Wolf would lose all his memories then all sanity. He would become a beast both in mind and body for all lifetime.”
The curtains fell, and the students backstage scrambled to switch the backdrop back to Cinderella’s home, under Tomoyo’s direction.
Syaoran stared down at his hands. “Look, I’m growing claws. I think I have fangs as well. Eriol wasn’t lying. I am possessed by an Inugami. I really am changing into a beast.”
“Oh Syaoran, I’m sure it’s something that Mizuki-sensei can easily take care of once the play ends,” said Sakura. “Besides, you’re still thinking and talking fine. If an Inugami is possessing you, you would lose control of your mind, don’t you think?”
“Technically yes,” said Kai. “Usually when yokai take over a human body, it should be able to take over the host’s physical and mental capabilities. But in the case of Syaoran, we know how stubborn he is—his sheer will enables him to keep his consciousness.”
“How much longer do we have to draw this out?” Syaoran demanded. “Did you guys track down Jinyu?”
“He’s still on the phone,” said Erika with a scowl.
Syaoran said, swerving around, “I’ll go bring him back—do the next scene without me.”
Tomoyo remarked, “Poor Syaoran. He looks so miserable. Has he actually grown a tail?”
Meilin snickered. “Is it really a yokai? Or just some prank?”
“Could be either, or both,” said Kai.
“And the culprit?” asked Sakura.
“There could be four possible culprits,” declared Kai. “Chang Erika, for she’s the Dark One, after all. Or her twin brother, Eron, who is supposedly on our side but nonetheless is suspicious since he chose to sit out during the play by joining the orchestra and also has a personal grudge against Syaoran. Perfect to be close but not on stage himself. Li Leiyun of course is most suspicious by default though he has no motive. And then again, you can never rule out Hiiragizawa Eriol, because something like this is right up his ally.”
Sakura interjected, “Five possible culprits. It could even be you. You did play that handcuff prank on us before.” At this, the ex-thief grinned.
“Curtains!” called out Tomoyo, pushing Meilin back into a plush bed.
Meilin, in a burgundy velvet dress, lay in a bed covered in crimson rose petals, finding it hard to pretend to be completely still in a deathly sleep. Why, it was much more fun to play an evil witch than to shut her eyes wondering what was going on around her.
“Dear fairy godmother, tell me what is wrong with my sister?” Sakura exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “Surely she is not dead!”
“She was a greedy little pig and ate a poisoned apple given to her by a stranger,” said Kara.
“I see,” said Sakura, suddenly calm. “Was it a cursed apple?”
“Yes, it was,” replied Kara. “I offered it to her in disguise.”
“Then I guess she can only be awakened by a true love’s kiss,” said Sakura solemnly.
Tomoyo nearly chuckled from the side stage and didn’t bother to continue narrating, because she was fascinated about how Sakura would carry the scene.
“Dear Magician-san, you are here, having guarded my sister all this time while I was away,” Sakura said, taking both of Kai’s hands in her own. “The purity of your heart is clear. Surely, you too deserve happiness. Please, awaken my sister, Snow White.”
Kai glowered over at Sakura who was clearly toying with him. Darling little Sakura of all people. Was this revenge for handcuffing her to Syaoran two summers ago? He knelt over by Meilin’s bedside, his cloak fanned out behind him, almost snickering at the worst dead-acting he had ever seen. Her eyes were not even shut properly, and she was glaring at him with one eye, if that was possible.
“Lie still,” he hissed. “I thought you were cast as Juliet before—you must have some acting chops.”
The deep line between her brows easing, and her black lashes fluttered ever so slightly, but Meilin was still. Her rose-tinted lips were slightly parted, her breath soft. She looked lovely with her flushed face, her jet black hair spread out around her, hands clasped together on her chest.
And he couldn’t do it.
He looked up and saw Kara was smirking at him from offstage for losing his cool. It was not really like him to be flustered about an onstage kiss, or pretend kiss, for he was the great Thief of the Night, with legions of female fans across the world who would swoon if he even winked in their direction. All the world was his stage, and Kaitou Magician never got flustered or broke his performance.
Slowly, he bent his head to give his Snow White a peck on the forehead, but it was Meilin who bolted up from the bed first, shoving him away.
“Oh, you’ve awakened!” exclaimed Sakura.
“Yes!” exclaimed Meilin, face flushed. “It was just a bad case of food poisoning, after all.”
“I see,” said Sakura. “Well, did you know our wonderful fairy godmother, who is sort of your guardian angel, has been watching over you while you were ill? I think it is time you ask him for the truth of his heart.”
Meilin coughed. “I’m sure the fairy godmother has much more important things to do and has to now run along and save a kingdom or two.”
“No,” said Kai with a smile. “Your sister bartered you to me, so you are now mine. Do you want to come along with me?”
“Great idea. But technically, if you are my guardian angel, then you belong to me,” said Meilin, taking Kai’s hand, and exited off the stage in a flurry. She muttered as soon as they reached backstage, “Who would have known, I think I actually like playing villains much better.”
“Told you it’s more fun to be bad. Now Sakura, that wicked girl, I’ll get back at her,” Kai added with a chuckle.
“You’re a horrible actor, by the way, Kai,” Meilin couldn’t help adding. “You really have no right to make fun of Syaoran.”
“Well, if I wasn’t terrified of Syaoran’s sisters in the audience, I would have happily obliged,” grumbled Kai.
“You know, I always thought it would be wonderfully romantic to wait for the prince to kiss you on stage and awake you from deep slumber,” said Meilin. “But there’s absolutely nothing romantic about having hundreds of people watching you as you have to keep your eyes shut and wonder if the prince is a prince and not a toad.”
“So, am I a prince or a toad?” asked Kai.
“Neither, you’re a rotten scoundrel,” replied Meilin, but Kai seemed oddly pleased by this.
Left on the stage with Kara, Sakura frowned and said extra loudly, “I have to return to the Wolf, he is waiting for me!” so that Syaoran could hear backstage and know he had to return soon with Jinyu. The curtains dropped again on a baffled audience.
“I’ve contacted Wei—he’s overseeing sending back-up to track down Kitagawa—there’s nothing we can do here, since he’s fled the country,” said Syaoran to Jinyu who was speaking rapidly in Cantonese in the dressing room.
“That business is already taken care of,” replied Jinyu, hand over the receiver. “It’s Wu Zian—he says his sister Zilai has disappeared.”
Syaoran paled. “Don’t tell me she’s come to Japan again to assassinate you.”
“No, it’s not like that,” said Jinyu. “But with the Tang Clan on the move again, Zilai may be in danger.”
“Surely Wu Zilai can take care of herself,” said Syaoran, recalling his rather unpleasant encounter with the Flaming Flamingo last time. But Syaoran was distracted when he saw Sakura emerge after a costume change, wearing a flowing white Grecian-style dress, vines of dethorned roses twined around the draped bodice. A wreath of red roses was placed on her head, golden-brown hair in loose waves framing her face.
“Why did Sakura get another costume change?” demanded Erika, still in her powder blue ball gown.
“Well, we have plenty of time since Jinyu’s still busy,” replied Tomoyo. “At this rate, I think we can fit in two weddings and christening of firstborn babies into the storyline.”
Erika stamped her foot down. “That’s it. This is my play. I am the heroine, and I am not going to be upstaged by Evil Stepsister Sakura or Syaoran-Wolf or that stupid Kaitou Fairy Godmother.”
Jinyu finally hung up the phone, oblivious to the chaos backstage. “Zian and the others are on Kitagawa’s trail now, and they’re tracking all flights and passenger and cargo boats. It’s almost certain he is on his way to Hong Kong. I’m sorry we lost track of him.”
Syaoran said, “It was my misjudgment because of my shortcomings.”
“He deceived us all. I believed in your judgment and still do,” Jinyu said.
“Kitagawa’s fate will be beyond our hands now, once he reaches Hong Kong,”
murmured Syaoran.
“Not if my men find him first,” said Jinyu. “We won’t lose him a second time.”
“What about Zilai—any luck in tracking her?” asked Syaoran.
“No, but she is the Third in the triads—I have no doubt she would be fine, though Zian tends to over-worry about his older sister, and rightfully so because the last time she disappeared she escaped to Japan,” replied Jinyu. “By the way, I think you’re turning into a dog, Great Elder.”
Wolf ears flattening against his head, Syaoran grumbled, “I’m glad you noticed. Now that the Kitagawa matter has been dealt, can you return to stage before Erika throws a tantrum?”
Jinyu remarked, “So, where are we in the storyline of Cinderella now?”
“Snow White just met her fated prince—more like crooked magician. And Belle has to return to the cursed Wolf. Now, I think we need a duel,” Tomoyo briefed the Black Dragon, who looked completely befuddled. “Duels always solve everything.”
“Don’t speak of duels after yesterday,” said Meilin with a shudder. “Fuutie was so reckless—and yet, I get where she was coming from. I’d be pissed off if my most important person leaves me to go off and die without any sort of proper explanation.”
Kai shuddered and mumbled, “There’s also the minor problem that the Inugami is stuck.”
“What do you mean stuck?” hissed Meilin.
“Well, usually the Inugami would be able to take full control over a human body and mind,” said Kai. “But Syaoran’s willpower is too strong for some yokai or spirit to take control over it. Eriol couldn’t even control Syaoran properly with thread magic, back when he was in elementary school, so it’s no surprise. But the problem is, the yokai should then be able to leave Syaoran’s body, but Syaoran is not letting that happen either, because instinctively he wants to capture it—so the Inugami is trapped.”
Meilin asked, “So, how do we exorcise this Inugami?”
“That’s a good question. Maybe we need to get him unconscious—make him briefly lose control over his willpower. Then the Inugami will be able to slip out of his body, and we will be able to exorcise it,” replied Kai.
Listening on to Kai solemnly, Sakura said, “You may have a point, Tomoyo-chan, about a duel.” She turned to the crew backstage, “There is something we have to do on the stage. Can you guys do this for me?”
Kai nodded, listening to Sakura’s plan, while Tomoyo said, “All right, leave things to me.”
Sakura turned to Syaoran. “And you? Can you lose yourself briefly, and let the yokai take control? It’s important.”
Syaoran stared at Sakura, who gazed at him with her determined emerald eyes, then sighed. “If that’s the only way, fine.”
“Well, do I get a costume change, or not?” demanded Erika, and Tomoyo shoved a new silver glittery gown at her while prodding Jinyu onto the stage.
Tomoyo called out to the Black Dragon, “Just go with the flow—we’re on uncharted grounds now, so anything works!”
Syaoran whispered to his cousin, “In Tomoyo-speak, that means if you don’t somehow telepathically follow her implied offstage cues, she is going to film you and make a whole blackmail DVD series of your blunders to haunt you for all lifetime.”
The scene changed back to the palace garden, and Jinyu returned to the stage which had a complete new set he had not seen before during rehearsals, greeted by a loud applause from the audience for his grand return.
Tomoyo went onto narrate, “Years ago, Prince Lupin made his cousin, the decoy Prince Dracon, promise him that one day, when the curse overtook him and robbed him of his humanity and sanity, that he be the one that kills him and puts an end to him misery. Dracon returned from the battle next kingdom over victorious and found his cousin alone in the castle and in a delirious state.”
Syaoran looked up at Jinyu. “Remember the promise you made to me many years ago? The time has come now.” He frowned as he glanced out toward the audience. He knew his sister was sitting in the third row, but couldn’t see her face because of the glaring spotlight. “When the time comes, you must also promise me, do not tell my most important person.”
“She should know,” the Black Dragon replied.
“I cannot let her know,” said Syaoran, placing his hand over his masked head. “I don’t want her to see the wretched, pathetic state I have become. I don’t want her to blame herself for not being able to save me. Because, I don’t want her to fall into that path. Let her go on living her life, free from me. For, if she stayed with me, I would only destroy her. I do not wish to hurt her.”
Tomoyo continued, “As Prince Lupin’s most loyal follower, Dracon promised to his sovereign ruler that he will keep the promise. And finally Prince Lupin completed his full transformation into a werewolf, losing all trace of a human mind.”
Jinyu was caught off guard as Syaoran made the first move and charged at him with his bare fists. The Black Dragon was taken aback as Syaoran attacked him full force on stage—yet if a duel Tomoyo wanted, a duel she would get. It wasn’t long though, before Jinyu realized something was off with Syaoran. His eyes were glazed over, as if he was moving without being conscious. Jinyu frowned. He had seen that sort of eyes before, the eyes of one possessed, consumed from within.
“They are fighting in Chinese martial arts in a Western fairytale setting,” remarked Miho dryly from the audience.
“Wonderfully choreographed,” said a boy in glasses sitting behind her, a fellow journalism club member, snapping away photos.
“Syaoran looks like he’s possessed by a real wolf,” remarked Shiefa with a frown. “His moves are never that wild and uncalculated—it’s like he’s not in control of his own body.”
Dairen said, “You’re right—something’s off with him.”
“Worried about the Wolf, Belle hurried back and returned to the castle at that moment,” Tomoyo narrated.
Sakura walked onto the stage and was actually terrified for a moment because Jinyu and Syaoran were fighting savagely, as if their lives depended on it.
“What’s going on?” demanded Sakura.
“He’s turned,” said Jinyu. “The Inugami, or whatever you guys call it, has taken control.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Sakura.
The Inugami-possessed Syaoran dashed toward them, pupils gleaming red. Without flitting an eye, Jinyu slammed his fist into Syaoran’s stomach. And Syaoran’s knees buckled, and he toppled over, face first.
Fuutie and Shiefa grimaced as their brother collapsing on the floor with a thud. “That must have hurt,” remarked Shiefa to her sister.
Sakura ran across the castle gardens, white skirt billowing behind her, and kneeled over the Wolf sprawled over a bed of flowers. To her relief, she found Syaoran was breathing softly. “I’m back. I’m sorry for taking so long. What’s wrong? Please don’t tell me I came late. Don’t die on me!”
She stood up and stared at Jinyu. “Black Dragon,” she said, not even correcting the name. “Did you kill him?”
“Yes,” he replied.
Sakura’s voice trembled. “Why? Why did you have to kill him?”
“Because I made a promise to him,” Jinyu said.
“What did he make you promise?” She continued softly, “It’s okay. Please tell me. Please help me understand.”
“That I wouldn’t tell.”
Sakura swallowed hard. “Tell what?”
And Jinyu stopped and looked out at the audience, directly at the auburn-haired woman with sapphire blue eyes. “That he loved you and wanted to protect you. He told you to leave so that you had a chance to find happiness. He did not want you to feel sorrow. Because he was thankful that you showed him what true happiness was, and he wanted to die while still remembering that happiness. He asked me to kill him before he lost his humanity all together. He did not want to show his weakness, his vulnerability to you, so that you remember him as a noble man, not as a monstrosity to humankind.”
“So,” said Sakura, choked up. “You chose to become the villain in his stead?”
“I swore to him that I would lead in his place once he is gone to make sure there is no internal dissent and to prevent any unnecessary bloodshed,” Jinyu said. “It was not my place to judge or speak, but to follow.”
“Thank you,” said Sakura softly. “Thank you for telling the truth.”
Jinyu stepped back, as if startled at realizing he was still on stage, turning his attention back on the younger girl.
“Sister dear, are you all right?” asked Shiefa, placing a hand over Fuutie’s hand.
Silent tears were pouring down Fuutie’s face. She nodded without speaking.
“I’m pretty sure that was a comedy,” said Shiefa. “Silly Fuutie, a secret softie at heart. Runs in the family.” She wrapped an arm around her older sister’s shoulder. “It’s okay to grieve. You don’t have to act strong for our sake. But it is as Jinyu said. That person would have wanted you to find happiness, and perhaps learn to love again.”
“The heart is fragile, like glass. Once it shatters, it can never be pieced together again,” said Fuutie.
Shiefa said, “Glass is not as fragile as you think it is. With fire, it can melt and become whole again with no sign that it had ever fractured. You know he really truly loved you. Let that knowledge be your strength.”
“If only I got a chance to say goodbye, tell him everything I felt about him in words,” said Fuutie. “That I know from the bottom of my heart, how much I loved him and will continue loving him so long as I am alive.”
Sakura glanced over at the orchestra pit and saw Leiyun glancing out at Fuutie with an inscrutable expression. He had not been giving any instructions to the orchestra, and they simply waited, in silence, for his cue.
She turned her attention back to Syaoran, still collapsed on the ground. She whispered to Jinyu, “Is he going to be all right?”
“I don’t know,” replied Jinyu, peering over the unconscious younger boy. “I didn’t think I punched him that hard.”
Sakura bent over and shook his shoulder. “Wake up.”
“He won't wake up like that,” Kai muttered from backstage.
And Erika, in a magnificent new glittering silver dress that flashed blindingly with every movement, stomped onto the stage. “That’s it! No one’s taking over my stage!” she exclaimed. “How dare you usurp my show?”
“Eri—err—Cinderella!” exclaimed Sakura. “Let me explain!”
“Let me guess, you have to save your Beast before the last rose petal falls! Well, too late!” exclaimed Erika. She swatted at the glass encasement on a circular table on the center of the stage containing a floating rose with one withering petal. The encasement came crashing down, glass smashed into myriads of pieces.
“Erika, no!” exclaimed Sakura. She had to think quickly before the glass fragments scattered again, making the dark force impossible to seal. “Key that hides the power of the stars. Show your true self to me. I, Sakura, command you under contract. Release!” She flung out a card of an old man in robes with a long beard and pointed ears, carrying a large hourglass. “Time!” she called out.
“Bad move,” muttered Kara.
There was a deafening roaring sound, and Sakura felt her body hurl backward, breath was knocked from her lungs, and saw Syaoran’s limp body flung away from her as darkness encompassed them. She shouted out his name, desperately reaching out toward him.
Some moments later, still in a daze, she sat up and found herself surrounded by sand. Carefully, she stood up, brushing the grains of sand away from her skirt. “Syaoran, where are you?” she called out, finding her voice echoing, as if she was trapped in some of dome. “Syaoran!”
There was no reply. Of the worst times a dark force would materialize—Syaoran was unconscious and possibly in grave danger if he was trapped in this strange place. “It can’t be the Sand. I caught that Clow Card years ago,” she murmured to herself.
She couldn’t have been transported elsewhere. They had been in the middle of stage, and she had merely frozen time—it shouldn’t have served as some sort of portal to a different dimension. Where did this sand come from—it felt like she was indoors still because the air was still. She couldn’t be in the middle of a desert, because there was no heat. Sakura continued walking till she hit a transparent barrier. Palms flat, she felt the barrier, which extend all around her and higher than her height when she stood on tiptoes. It felt cool to her touch. She had to find Syaoran.
Sakura, can you hear me? Sakura glanced around, certain she had heard his voice. He repeated, Answer me if you can. Please.
“Syaoran, where are you?” She ran across the sand, stumbling, and pressed a hand against a transparent, solid wall—no it was not exactly a wall. It curved in. But it was not in the shape of a dome either. She was pretty sure she was trapped in a cylindrical glass capsule of sorts. “Syaoran, can you hear me?”
“Yeah, I can hear you.” To her relief, she could hear his voice faint, but clearly, indicating he was nearer than she had thought. And he could not be seen but clearly was in the same dimension as her because she could feel his moon aura.
“Are you okay? You were knocked out by Jinyu—and the Inugami!” exclaimed Sakura.
“It seems like I’ve been knocked back to myself, at least for now,” said Syaoran, rubbing his stomach where Jinyu had punched him. “It might be the Time blocked out the influence of all outside forces. Sorry for making you worry.”
“I wasn’t worried. I knew you’d be fine—as if a simply yokai would get the better of you,” said Sakura.
“More importantly, where are we? And where are you, your voice doesn’t seem too far away,” said Syaoran. “It doesn’t seem like we were transported to a different place or dimension—it still feels like we are in Seijou High School, though we are not.”
Sakura replied, as she finally came to the point that the glass tapered in. “Strange as it sounds, I think we’re trapped in a giant hourglass turned sideways. I believe we may have somehow trapped ourselves within the Time, actually.”
“The hourglass of the Time. You might be right. I’ve been circling around, trying to break through the glass encasement,” said Syaoran. “It didn’t work.”
The two heard a rumbling. “What is that?” asked Sakura.
“The hourglass, it’s turning,” Syaoran said.
Sure enough, Sakura could feel the sand beneath her shift rapidly beneath her feet and she was launched to her side as the hourglass turned vertical, knocking her over onto her knees. She gazed up at the tiny tapered hole above, tiny grains of sand showering down on her.
Hearing the shattering of glass on stage, Kai ran out to the stage and blinked. “Where did Syaoran and Sakura disappear to?”
Kara pointed at a golden hourglass suspended horizontally above the stage. “I think they are trapped in here.”
“What do you mean they are trapped in there?” demanded Kai, craning his neck and shielding his eyes with his hand from the stage light to get a better look.
“The Glass has usurped the Time,” remarked Eriol, leaving his grand piano and stepping up onto the stage, glancing over at Tomoyo who stood inanimate.
“How is that even possible?” demanded Eron, trailing behind Eriol, his orchestra mates frozen in place.
“Glass is generally considered non-biodegradable, hence it is one of the few elements that can beat Time,” remarked Kara.
“It’s an infinite loop,” stated Eriol. “Sakura summoned the Time, but she is trapped within Time, so the clock is forever frozen.”
“But we’re fine,” said Kara with a frown.
“Generally, those with strong enough powers can withstand the influence of the Time,” replied Eriol. “That doesn’t mean we can break it either. Hence we’re stuck in between time too.”
“Now you’ve done it,” Eron snapped at Erika.
“I didn’t know this was going to happen!” exclaimed Erika. “All I wanted to do was take back the stage!”
“You probably wished them to be gone, so they really are gone,” retorted Eron. “If you can’t control your powers, it’ll consume you in the end!”
“If you’re so smart, then why don’t you bring them back!” replied Erika.
“The Glass is a temperamental dark force,” said Eriol. “It has a complex because it has a detrimental weakness—that it shatters so easily. But it uses its weakness as its armor. It avoids being caught by self-destructing and scattering its shards into a million pieces everywhere. And it can’t be sealed until every piece is gathered together. Which is one of the reasons Clow Reed never did get around to sealing it.”
“It’s impossible to seal then!” exclaimed Kai.
“Not necessarily,” said Eriol. “In this case, because Sakura tried to seal the Glass, it shrank Sakura and Syaoran and trapped them within the hourglass, or literary inside the physical embodiment of Time, as a defense mechanism so that it can’t be sealed. Same as earlier, when the glass marbles multiplied and tried to engulf us in the haunted house.”
“It is difficult to seal a card when you are trapped in it,” murmured Eron. “But surely Sakura would figure a way out.”
“I do hope Syaoran is not knocked out cold over there,” remarked Kara. “He’s having enough issues as is recovering from his experience in Limbo.”
“Look, the hourglass just swiveled over and sand is falling down,” exclaimed Kai. “Do you think they are trapped on the top half?”
“Who knows? What do we do, should we break the hourglass?” asked Eron.
“No, that might hurt Sakura and Syaoran, or trap them inside the Time forever,” replied Eriol. “We will just have to wait and see.”
“Sakura are you all right?” called out Syaoran, his voice coming from above her, fainter than before. “The sand, it’s falling to your side of the hourglass, isn’t it?”
“I’m all right for now—the sand’s falling at an even pace,” said Sakura, staring up at the narrow funnel above her as golden sand streamed down on her head ever since the hourglass swiveled 90 degrees.
“One hour,” said Syaoran, tapping his finger on his thigh in rhythm. “Judging by the speed of the sand being drained below me and the amount of sand I have left on my side, I think we have one hour before your side fills up. But then again, time is relative within this particular Card.”
“Well, at least we have plenty of time to come up with a plan then,” said Sakura, sputtering as some sand got into her mouth.
“We’re not going to wait it out,” said Syaoran tersely. How could Sakura be okay with being buried alive in sand?
“It’s kind of like when we were trapped in the Maze,” remarked Sakura. “That was the first card we could not seal on our own, and Mizuki-sensei had to help out. Except, it seems we’re trapped within the Time, so time outside must be frozen as well. And I believe the Glass has taken over the Time, so we can’t seal it. I’m not sure if anyone can come save us this time.”
Syaoran collapsed on his knees, palm on the sand. “I’ve had a nightmare like this. Being trapped in an infinite loop, suspended from time. It’s like the story of Prometheus.”
“Who?”
“Prometheus. The Greek deity who stole fire from Mount Olympus and gave it to humankind. As eternal punishment, Prometheus is chained to a rock, and his liver is eaten daily by an eagle and is regenerated by night because he is an immortal. And the punishment repeats the next day.”
“So, what happened to Prometheus?” asked Sakura, staring up at the golden grains of sand snowing down on her with the sound of Syaoran’s voice.
“I believe Heracles, son of Zeus, comes and saves him eventually,” he replied.
“See, even Prometheus got rescued,” said Sakura. “And eternal punishment doesn’t sound so bad, if I’m with you.”
Syaoran blinked. “Even if it means we will never be able to see each other again? What if, you are forever stuck on your side of the glass bulb, and I on this side?”
Hugging her knees to her chest, head down as sand trickled down from above, Sakura replied softly, “So long as I know you are out there, somewhere, that knowledge alone will give me strength to carry on.”
“Well, I’m not okay with that!” said Syaoran with a frown, releasing his sword and piercing it through the sand to measure the distance to the bottom of upturned the glass funnel. How could she be fine with such a thought? For him, when trapped in Limbo, the thought of being so near but separated, one but never together, had been his worst torment. Wasn’t there a way to swing around the hourglass again? He ran across the dune and threw his body, shoulder first, to the glass with a thud. The hourglass shuddered but did not budge. He heard Sakura coughing faintly. “Are you okay?”
“The sand, it’s filling faster,” said Sakura, who was now standing on her tip-toes, pressed up against the glass, trying to stay atop of the sinking sand pit.
“Hold on and brace yourself!” called out Syaoran. “Fuuka Shourai!”
Sakura felt the hourglass tremble, and dizzyingly, she was flung upside down, sand pouring down beneath her. Bracing herself with her staff, she emerged from the quicksand beneath her, before realizing the hourglass must have swiveled around again, and she was now on the top half. “What happened? Syaoran, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” replied Syaoran, from the bottom half of the hourglass. “I used wind to build up enough movement and create enough momentum to swing around the hourglass completely. It worked. Only because, as I pointed out, this is an infinite loop. The hourglass was meant to swing over every given hour, endlessly, and I just sped that process along.”
Sakura frowned. “Meaning, you were able to create a wrinkle in the loop. Like all traps, this is not a perfect loop. It reminds me of when we caught the Loop Card in elementary school, during our marathon. We found the seam of the Loop and was able to cut it down.”
“Yes, even the Loop wasn’t perfect. The Mobius strip had a crack in it,” remarked Syaoran cryptically, tracing an infinity eight shape in the sand, then pointing at the intersection. “The weakest point of the hourglass should be the narrow part of the glass that tapers in between each of the halves.”
“But even if we try to break it, the Glass will shatter again and scatter itself, and we will be no closer to sealing it,” stated Sakura. “The moment we break it, time will flow again, and we will be on the center of stage. We need to find a way to seal it once and for all, when all the fragments are gathered in one spot.”
“Leiyun did not use a barrier to protect Tomoyo the other day when the window shattered because he knew barriers would have no affect on the Glass,” murmured Syaoran.
“A barrier will have no effect, but we can still slow down the Glass pieces from scattering,” murmured Sakura. “And even if it shatters, we just have to gather it up again.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” asked Syaoran.
“Glass can be made of melted sand,” replied Sakura.
“Someone was paying attention in chemistry class,” said Syaoran with a crooked smile that she would not be able to see.
“At 1,700 degrees Celsius, sand can be melted into liquid,” murmured Sakura, holding out her star staff.
“That shouldn’t be a problem for you,” said Syaoran, as he leapt atop the sand piling beneath him. “I’ll do what I am best at, and you do what you’re best at.”
“We have one shot,” said Sakura. “I’m going to swing around the hourglass again, creating a disruption in Time. The moment you crack the Glass, I’m going to keep it from scattering.” She summoned the Windy and Twister simultaneously, which created enough momentum to swivel the hourglass over again.
Because not much sand had gathered on his end yet, Syaoran braced himself, both hands gripping the hilt of his sword, as the hourglass turned upside down. He could see the gleaming light from the tapered hole in which the grains of sand sifted through to the other end, where Sakura waited. And he slammed the blade through that hole. There was a loud splitting sound and the hourglass cracked open. Syaoran held out his hand and called out, “Sakura! Grab my hand!”
She seized it and the two jumped out of the shattered glass encasement, sand flowing out like liquid mercury around them. The two, full-sized again, landed on the stage hand in hand. Time was flowing again.
Kai, without missing a beat, snapped his fingers and the heavy velvet curtains fell over the stage as sand spewed down at them.
“We can’t let the shattered glass pieces escape!” called Syaoran.
Sakura swirled her pink star staff around her with finesse that made Tomoyo, who seemed to have quickly deciphered what had gone on, squeal in pleasure. “Slime!”
The translucent slime spread out rapidly and engulfed all the glass pieces. Sakura acted quickly because she knew the glass fragments would break away soon. She stamped her staff down on a card. “Firey! Sandy”
First, the slime melted away into water, leaving behind the glass pieces that resisted the heat at first. But Sakura continued to press down on the card, raising the temperature higher and higher. She felt her hair sizzle and perspiration dripped down her forehead and down her back.
Syaoran lifted up his sword and commanded, “Kashin Shourai!” A jet of fire streamed out from his blade, merging with the Firey.
Finally, the fragmented glass pieces gave way and the sand turned into a liquid pool. The two melded and as it cooled into a spun glass ball, Sakura called out, “Spirit of the dark forces. I, Sakura command you. Return to a new shape under contract. Sakura Card!”
The new card floated down, with a single glass slipper pictured on its face. Flower wreath askew on her head, Sakura collapsed on her knees to catch her breath.
“Your ears and tail are gone,” said Meilin, checking on Syaoran.
Syaoran glared at Kai. “Of course it’s gone. As if some lowly Inugami can take control of me. And you, I’ll have a talk with you as soon as this dratted Gotherella and the Beast farce is finished!”
Sakura wiped the sweat from her brows. “We’ve sealed all the dark forces now, right? Our play will be safe now!”
“I suppose so,” said Meilin, without much conviction.
“Oh god, fire, fire back stage!” exclaimed Erika, swatting her straw broom which had caught sparks from the Firey.
“We can’t have the stage burn down—and the auditorium is completely full!” Sakura exclaimed.
She drew out another card. “Watery!”
“No wait!” called out Kai, sputtering as he was hit by a jet of water. The flames immediately sizzled out as it came in contact with the Watery.
Naoko returned to the dressing area with impeccable timing and declared, “Oh dear, why is Kai-kun dripping wet?”
Kai stood in the corner, drenched in water from head to foot, looking wet and miserable.
“Oh no, Kai-kun, I’m so sorry!” exclaimed Sakura. “I only meant to put out the fire—I didn’t notice you standing there.”
“My hair is ruined,” Kai groaned, as his carefully spiked auburn points sagged. He took off his sunglasses, since it was impossible to see through the water droplets.
Tomoyo declared, “I have a spare outfit for you.”
“Of course you do,” mumbled Kai, unclasping the soaked cloak. He then proceeded to strip off his shirt in front of everyone, as other cast members gathered to prepare for the finale.
Meilin shoved him behind the screen. “Don’t you have any decency?”
Emerging from behind the screens, Kai grumbled, “Tomoyo, you seriously don’t expect me to go up on stage wearing this?”
“Yes,” said Tomoyo. “I spent more time making that outfit than I did Sakura’s ball gown.”
And Kai stood on stage, resplendent in an ivory tunic trimmed with braided gold cords, with matching breeches and shoes, paired with a thick ivory cloak lined with gold and clasped with bronze buckles. With his luxurious auburn hair tumbling into his bright periwinkle blue eyes, he looked every bit like a fairytale prince.
“How nostalgic,” remarked Kara with a crooked smile. “Prince Mikai is back.”
“And to think, the most princely thing to stand on stage tonight is Kaitou Magician,” remarked Erika with a long sigh, glancing disdainfully over her shoulder at Jinyu in disarray since his duel with Prince Lupin the Wolf.
Tomoyo chuckled, “Well now, Jinyu-san, please go on and finish the show.”
Jinyu blinked at her. “I’m sorry, but the glass slipper in my pocket seems to have shattered during the whole sealing the Glass fiasco.”
“What do you mean the prop glass slippers broke?” screeched Erika. “How are we supposed to end the play now?”
“No worries, I’ll create an even more fantastic glass slipper,” said Sakura, slipping out her newest card before Erika flipped out. “Sparkle magnificently as Cinderella’s slippers spun of glass and lead to your other half!” Sakura handed Jinyu a pair of magnificent glass slipper, reflecting rainbow hues. “Now, let’s finish off this play.”
Kai told Sakura solemnly. “Now, the real problem is, how are you going to exorcise that Inugami from Syaoran?”
Sakura frowned. “What do you mean? I thought he’s okay now.”
“Through sheer willpower, Syaoran has seized control of his consciousness again. But the Inugami is still within his body,” replied Kai.
“How do we get rid of this Inugami from Syaoran’s body then?” exclaimed Sakura.
Kai said solemnly, “It’s as you said. A true love’s kiss is the only sure way to exorcise the Inugami from Syaoran’s body.”
Sakura nodded. Then she spun around. “What?”
Kai slammed the silver wolf mask on Syaoran’s face and kicked his shin to get to collapse back on the ground, next to the fallen rose at the center of the stage. Syaoran stifled a grimace—Jinyu really had punched him hard, and he was hit by pure exhaustion from his exertions in the Haunted House to running about in a heavy bear suit, to being buried alive in sand.
After a strangely placed intermission, the heavy maroon curtains lifted for the final act of the haphazard fairytale play. Leiyun, from the orchestra pit, conducted an entrancing tune which took listeners on a spellbinding trip into an enchanted forest.
“I’m sorry for taking so long. It’s all right now, I’m here,” said Sakura as knelt down next to Syaoran, her white chiffon skirt billowing out around her, scattering rose petals falling from the decorations up her bodice and sleeves.
“You found me,” he whispered.
“Of course I did. Everything’s going to be all right. You’ll see,” she said, placing a hand on his cheek tenderly.
“At least I got to see you once last time,” murmured Syaoran, looking up at her. “When I leave you, don’t be sad. I want you to be happy with whoever you will choose. Someday in the near future, please think of me once in a while. I’ll always be with you in my heart no matter how far away I may seem.” He shut his eyes as he uttered words that felt like a déjà vu, and rolled back, as ordered by Tomoyo. He hadn’t slept at all the night before, and it was somewhat relaxing just lying here without moving an inch.
Staring at him, Sakura was brought back to how she had knelt in the snow, cradling Li Ryuuren, who looked up at him with those weary blue eyes. “Please stay till I am asleep. I don’t want to die alone,” he had told her. “I just want someone by my side. To remember my existence, that I once lived and then didn’t.” He had wanted to see Amamiya Nadeshiko one last time, and she hadn’t been able to grant him that wish.
Tears unbeknownst to herself streamed down her face as she said, “No! Please don’t leave me. Come back!” She peered over Syaoran’s head, swallowing hard. Sakura frowned. She knew the lines she was supposed to say next, and Tomoyo gazed at her in anticipation. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I l-lo…” But she couldn’t. Then she realized that Syaoran was breathing softly—he was sleeping! In the middle of all this fiasco, he had snoozed off like a narcoleptic puppy, head buried on her lap, unaware of the agony she was in at this moment. Well, trying to break against the Time would have drained him, as it always did. And there was that yokai residing within him still. How to lure it out.
A Clow Reed-type curse. And there was only one way to break it, according to Kai. She took a deep breath and bent over Syaoran’s head, as he lay still on the stage. She had practiced the prince’s kiss scene with Princess Aurora half a dozen times back in elementary school without batting an eyelash. Yet, why was this so difficult? Her lips drew closer to his, and he was clearly not even conscious, so he didn’t flinch this time.
And she suddenly jerked back, heart pounding rapidly. “I can’t do it!” She stared up at Jinyu imploringly but the mafia boss stared back down at her stonily, wondering why the Card Mistress was stalling.
“Of course Sakura froze up. What are we going to do about Syaoran?” hissed Meilin. “We can’t just leave him sleeping on the stage. Do something about it!”
“Geez, I didn’t expect he’d fall asleep for real,” said Kai. He strode across the stage and bent down gallantly by Syaoran, ivory cloak fanning around him. He reached over and embraced Syaoran tightly.
“Oh, so passionate,” sighed Naoko, blushing happily from behind the backstage curtains.
Chiharu’s jaw was hanging so low, she could not respond. “Did Kai just kiss Syaoran?”
“Ah, the power of a true love’s kiss,” said Takashi. “Though, it seems more like the Magician is strangling the Wolf?”
“Who in the world is that gorgeous boy? Was there someone like that in Seijou?” whispered Shiefa, breathless, pointing at the glorious prince in white who had entered the stage.
“You don’t recognize him?” asked Miho dryly.
“No, look at that lovely shade of his hair, like burnt copper, it’s so silky I want to run my hands through it. And his movement is so graceful, as if wind is blowing his cloak around naturally, just like a true-life prince,” said Shiefa. “I’ve got to meet him.”
Miho remarked, “You’ve already met him. It’s Mizuki Kai.” Shiefa shot her a quizzical glance. “You know. My brother.”
And Shiefa sputtered. “That lovely prince over there is the delinquent Mizuki Kai? How? I totally didn’t recognize him without the sunglasses. And the porcupine hair.”
“Yeah, that’s what my brother was like back in elementary school,” sighed Miho.
“What happened since?” asked Shiefa, horrified. “Don’t tell me he always wears sunglasses, even indoors, because he’s too blindingly handsome without them?”
“It’s for disguise purposes—his eyes are such a distinct color, that he would be easily recognized when stealing,” said Nakuru. “Oops. I hope that the fact he’s also Kaitou Magician wasn’t a secret. I mean, everyone knows by now, right?”
“What is Mizuki Kai doing?” demanded Meilin from backstage, clinging onto the curtains. “Why is he unbuttoning Syaoran’s shirt?”
Miho wrinkled her nose. “Onii-chan is such a softie—he’s exorcising the Inugami.”
Kai slipped his hand under Syaoran’s shirt, palm over his heart, and chanted something under his breath. A blinding light flared out, and Syaoran’s silver wolf mask rolled off.
Syaoran awoke groggily and opened an eye. “Meilin, I had the worst nightmare we were in the middle of the school play, and I turned into a Wolf. Oh god, what’s with the dandy prince getup?”
“Tomoyo forced me to change into this,” mumbled Kai.
“Thank goodness, I thought she was making that costume for Jinyu and was seriously worried for her well-being,” said Syaoran. He noticed Kai’s hand under his shirt. “What are you doing?” He stared down at his hands, then touched the top of his head. “It’s gone.”
“Yes, it’s gone,” said Kai.
“It really is gone!” exclaimed Syaoran. “I’m definitely back to normal.”
Kai clutched Syaoran’s hands. “Yes, you are back to your normal self again.”
Then Syaoran suddenly frowned. “Wait, you removed the seal. That means you were the one who—”
“Yes, I am your one true love,” declared Kai. “Your destiny!”
And suddenly Syaoran grabbed Kai by the nape of his cloak. “You did this to me. How dare you guys put a spell on me?”
Tomoyo announced, “Yes, indeed, years ago, the Magician had been scorned by Prince Lupin, who was haughty and selfish. He cast a curse on Prince Lupin when he found the prince had no kindness or love in his heart, turning him into a monstrous wolf.”
She continued, “The Prince’s father passed away when he was young, and the Queen, his mother, took it upon her hand to rule and guard the kingdom and rode away for war when the curse was cast on the Prince, turning him into a hideous Wolf,” said Tomoyo. “The Fairy Godmother Magician told him that if he could learn to love another, and that person could love him for who he was in return by the time the last petal of an enchanted rose fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a wolf-creature for all time. As the years passed, the Wolf lost his humanness and became more and more a beast. And he fell into despair, for he thought it was impossible for a girl to fall in love with a monster. He locked himself away in the West Wing of the palace, and everybody was forbidden to enter that area. A decoy prince took his place, and the kingdom forgot about the original prince. But the Queen, watching her son lose all hope in finding a young lady, hosted a ball inviting all the eligible girls of the kingdom. And the Lost Prince had a glimmer of hope for the first time that the curse could be broken when he met the person he had awaited his whole life.”
The audience gaped as Chiharu rushed onto the stage, accompanied by the remaining cast.
Sakura called out, “Oh, it’s the Mother Queen!”
“My son, Prince Lupin, is back to normal!” exclaimed the Queen, played by Chiharu. “And you, kind Fairy Godmother, are the one who brought him back. How can I ever thank you enough for having restored my dear son to his natural form? Well, it's a bit unconventional, but you may have my son's hand in marriage.”
Syaoran stared at Chiharu, aghast. “Excuse me?”
“Thank you, your highness. I promise to make him happy. Did you hear that, darling? Your family approves of our true love,” said Kai, taking Syaoran’s hand.
“I’m going to kill you after this,” said Syaoran through gritted teeth as Eron from the orchestra enthusiastically began playing the romantic finale on the violin.
Tomoyo cleared her throat, “The evil magician who was spurned by the spoiled and arrogant prince and cursed him to live the life of a beast was once more reunited with his love once more.”
Syaoran spun around and glared at the narrator.
“Oh dear, I recognize that expression on Syaoran’s face,” Shiefa remarked from the audience.
Miho glanced up at Syaoran’s sister quizzically. “What is it?”
“He’s snapped. Syaoran is an amazingly patient and tolerant boy, since he did grow up with four sisters, but when he reaches his threshold, which is rare, beware,” said Shiefa. “The beast within him is unleashed.”
Sakura tugged on Syaoran’s sleeve and whispered without moving her mouth, “Syaoran, please smile, you’re the scaring the kids in the audience.”
“Who cares, I’m the Beast, so it’s in character, and this is the last time I’m going to fall into Tomoyo’s trap and end up on stage for one of her dratted plays,” growled Syaoran, shoving away Kai and adjusting his cloak.
“Don’t forsake me, my beloved!” exclaimed Kai dramatically, raising his hand up in the air, and they were showered by fragrant red rose petals.
Erika shrieked, “You can’t end the play like this! It’s ruined! I’m the star of the play!”
“Footman! Find me the owner of the glass slipper,” said Jinyu abruptly, pushing aside Kai. His eyes narrowed. “Now!”
Jinyu was not much of an actor, but he spoke with clear authority. “Y-yes sir!” stammered the footman played by a senior.
“It seems like Jinyu-senpai is used to having his orders followed,” remarked Naoko dryly, as she shoved Erika toward the center of the stage.
Prince Jinyu pointed at Erika. “Found you! Shoe here. Put on. Be my bride.”
Naoko groaned backstage, covering her face. “What’s with the caveman speak?”
Erika gaped at him as he bent down and slipped the glass slippers onto her feet. “Fits perfectly!” he declared automatically. He stood up, tried to lean in to kiss her, and was rewarded with a smart slap across the face. Kai whistled, Eron grimaced, and the audience gasped out loud.
Leiyun actually snorted, and he waved his baton. The orchestra furiously played the chaotic finale.
“Did Cinderella reject Prince Dracon for taking too long to return to her? Will Belle and Prince Lupin find their way back to each other?” Tomoyo narrated dramatically. “Or does the Small Wolf’s heart lie elsewhere? Can the Magician of the Night win him back? Please find out in the new season of ‘The Forbidden Trials of Small Wolf and the Nefarious Thief of the Night: the Cursed Prince’s Magician.’ The DVD can be preordered after the show ends by signing up outside the auditorium.”
Tomoyo continued, “But without doubt, Belle, Prince Lupin, Snow White, the Magician, Cinderella and her decoy Prince Dracon all lived happily ever after, for true happiness is being able to watch the person you are being happy, but even greater, is being able to love and be loved in return.”
She turned to Eriol, who improvised a lovely piano melody, a light tune that was a variation of the Star-Crossed theme. As her voice trailed off, the last notes of the piano also trickled away.
The curtains finally came to a close. Then there was a thunderous roar of approval from the audience at the most absurd and fantastical fairy tale production they had seen to date.
Syaoran yanked off his cloak as soon as the curtain fell and roared, “I’m going to find Eriol this moment.”
“Oh, Syaoran, we have curtain call,” said Sakura.
“Everyone, hold hands, and bow when the curtains open again!” directed Naoko, dabbing the sweat on her brows with her sleeve. Another haphazard play produced by her class had somehow come to a close.
“I’m the heroine, I get to be in the center!” declared Erika, shoving away Meilin and Kai. “Move out of the way, all of you!”
The curtains opened again to a standing ovation, they graciously bowed, hand in hand, and smiled up to the audience. Sakura was holding Syaoran’s right hand, and Kai the other, stopping him from leaping off the stage onto Eriol in the orchestra pit the moment it was intermission time.
“He’s lost it,” muttered Kai to Sakura.
“The wolf ears were a little too much,” whispered Sakura to a rather dazzling Prince Mikai.
“Weren’t they adorable on him though?” asked Kai.
And Sakura nodded, cheeks pink.
“I have extra special fireworks planned after the bonfire dance,” said Kai with a wink. “Go get your wild, wild Wolf Boy, Beauty.”
“That was the strangest rendition of Cinderella I have ever seen in my life,” remarked Nakuru amid a prolonged standing ovation from the audience.
“Wasn’t it? It was marvelous!” said Miho clapping heartily.
“This takes Cinderella to a whole new level, doesn’t it?” said Yukito. “Though I still think you were the best Cinderella, To-ya.”
“Don’t you dare bring that up again,” growled Touya. “And I thought our production of Cinderella was chaos reincarnate.”
“So, how much of it was ad-libbed this time, do you think?” asked Nakuru.
“Obviously since Jinyu walked off stage,” said Miho.
“What—that wasn’t a part of the script?” asked Shiefa. “But what about all the sets and props?”
“Mostly likely improvised,” remarked Fuutie. “Come, let’s go find our budding thespian of a brother.”
“Where’s Hiiragizawa Eriol?” growled Syaoran, tearing off his cloak and scanning the backstage like a wild wolf.
“Oh dear, he’s snapped,” remarked Shiefa, walking backstage with a bouquet of peonies.
“He’s usually such a patient, tolerant boy,” added Fuutie.
“Which is why it’s so fun when he breaks,” said Shiefa. The two sisters cackled sinisterly.
Leiyun, violin in hand, heaved a sigh. “You sisters tease the boy mercilessly.”
Shiefa said, “Because he turns into such a savage little beast when he reaches his breaking point. It’s so amusing to watch because he’s usually so unresponsive.”
To her alarm, Tomoyo saw a scowling Syaoran stomping their way, but luckily he was intercepted by his sisters who gushed and fawned over him much to his annoyance.
Eriol remarked to her, “You looked immensely pleased with yourself.”
“Yes,” replied Tomoyo.
“Of course she’s satisfied,” muttered Nakuru. “She got to do everything she wanted to through this cultural festival. See Eron in a dress. Check. Have Li Jinyu wear his long hair down for the first time. Check. Put wolf ears on Syaoran plus dress him up as a teddy bear. Check. Put Sakura in the most ridiculously brilliant golden ball gown. Check. See Prince Mikai in real life. Check. And, she even drew up more footage for the Nefarious Thief of the Night and the Small Wolf sequel.”
Tomoyo gave a little shrug. “Who said you can’t have your cake and eat it too?”
Sakura’s jaw dropped as she overheard the conversation. “You mean all these incidents were premeditated?
Eriol said gravely, “There is no such thing as coincidence in this world. Only inevitability.”
“Well, I always figured you guys would have a Plan B,” remarked Sakura. “After all the plays that have been interrupted.”
“More like Plan D,” muttered Tomoyo.
“This was Plan D?” squeaked Sakura. “What were the other plans?”
“Maybe it was you as the prince and Syaoran as Cinderella,” murmured Tomoyo. “We were already on Plan B ever since Eron’s ‘accident,’ and Plan C went down the drain after the dark force appeared.”
Sakura shuddered. “I’m so glad you are my friend, Tomoyo-chan, not my enemy.”
“Me too!” said Tomoyo cheerily.
“It was a masterful weaving of the tales by our director,” Eriol said.
Tomoyo said, “I didn’t do justice to your original script. And the masters told the tale many times before me. I just had to go with their words.”
Eriol smiled. “I’ve always had a soft spot for Beauty and the Beast. Though, I didn’t realize you’ve read the original Villeneuve version of the tale of the Beauty and the Beast. Not many people know of that version. Usually the Beaumont version is most widely known.”
Tomoyo said, “I actually only read it quite recently—it’s so hard to get hands on a copy of the text. But I found it was in your collection—Miho-chan showed it to me.”
“You read the original French version?” asked Eriol. “I’m impressed. Clow Reed was an avid collector of fairytales.”
Syaoran, who had finally broken away from his sisters, stomped up to them and declared, “Stop running away, Hiiragizawa Eriol! I know you were involved in this somehow!”
Eriol protested, “I swear I had absolutely no role in it” He pointed at Kaitou Magician. “It’s all him. My magic’s based on Western occult—he’s the one who’s trained in onmyodo.”
Syaoran groaned, coming to a sudden realization. “I remember now. Thursday night at your apartment. You offered to use sleep hypnosis on me. That’s when you planted the Inugami on me, isn’t it.” He grabbed Kai by the nape of his shirt. “What is the matter with you? Why would you pull this sort of unfunny prank? I thought you were supposed to be my friend.”
“All’s well that end’s well, right? I never meant to harm you. It’s just a joke,” said Kai.
“Don’t wrinkle the clothes,” squeaked Tomoyo as Syaoran’s fingers tightened around the collar.
With a sigh, Syaoran released Kai and turned around. “I can’t deal with you right now. My sisters are running loose, Sakura’s been shutting me out, and my head is a mess since I’ve become the Great Elder.”
“That’s the point,” said Kai. “You were spouting some nonsense about how you were afraid after coming back from Limbo of losing yourself, losing control of your mind. And I just wanted to show you that you will not so easily lose your conscious self, that you are stronger than that.”
“Kai, that’s so sweet of you,” said Meilin, then smacked the former thief on the back of his head. “Not! You just wanted to make Syaoran suffer a bit, didn’t you?”
“That too,” admitted Kai. “See, Syaoran, you should not even have been susceptible to being possessed by some lower yokai in the first place had you been in your right state of mind. You were vulnerable because you’ve been so sleep-deprived, there are moments when you are completely narcoleptic.”
“Oh, you were trying to cure me of my sleep deprivation by proving a point,” said Syaoran. “I get it. Thank you.”
Turning to Syaoran, Meilin’s jaw dropped. “Thank you? That’s it? You’re just going to leave things at that?”
With a shrug, Syaoran replied, “Well, Kai has a valid point. A low-level yokai should never have been able to possess my body in my right state of mind. Also, it was my idiocy to allow him to hypnotize me the other day—that’s when the Inugami was implanted in me.”
“You actually let Mizuki Kai hypnotize you?” demanded Meilin.
“He said he was trying sleep therapy on me,” said Syaoran. “I must have been quite desperate, and he is persuasive. To his credit, it did work.”
“And the Inugami?” asked Meilin.
“I got the idea from Syaoran’s sisters,” replied Kai. “They told me how they sewed him up into a teddy bear suit when he was a toddler and convinced him he had become a bear.”
Meilin shook her head. “What a disastrous play. I keep thinking, the next one can’t get any worse than the last one, and yet it does.”
“Are you mad, Mei-chan?” asked Kai.
“About what?” she asked suspiciously.
“Because I may have played the role that you wanted to play all your life, opposite Prince Syaoran,” he replied solemnly.
“Actually, you might have saved the play at the end of day,” said Meilin with a shrug, realizing she was speaking the truth. “Don’t be mistaken—Syaoran’s still furious with you. Stay out of his radar for a couple days.”
“Worried for me?” he asked with a rakish grin.
“Seriously, why would you play such an awful prank on him, with the doggie ears?” asked Meilin. “How did you even pull it off?”
Miho came running backstage with a bouquet of white roses for her brother. “Onii-chan! You were marvelous! Why didn’t you tell me you were the star of the show?”
“You thought I was the star of the show?” Kai’s eyes glistened as he turned to Meilin. “Did you hear that? She called me onii-chan. And she brought me roses!”
“They’re leftovers from Sakura’s rose costume, cut from Eriol’s special rose garden,” muttered Meilin.
Miho said solemnly. “Weren’t the dog ears on Syaoran-senpai the highlight of the play? I’m so glad you caught that Inugami on Mount Kumatori last weekend. Now, where is Tomoyo-senpai? I’ve got to find her.” She pranced off happily.
Meilin glanced up at Kai, who had that extra gentle look in his gray-blue eyes that he reserved only for his younger sister. Till this day, he would do anything in his powers to please Miho, which she found to be a rather endearing aspect of him though it came at the expense of Syaoran’s comfort and dignity. But there Mizuki Kai stood by the red curtains, blissfully holding the white roses to his nose, breathing in the fragrance, looking very princely and romantic with his silky auburn bangs sliding into his dreamy silvery blue eyes. And he knew it too, for he was posing seductively in the most flattering lighting. “Stop staring, you’re making me embarrassed,” he remarked, white teeth flashing.
“I do forget how darned handsome you are sometimes,” remarked Meilin with a tilt of her head, soaking in his dazzling brilliance. Kai was so close to her childhood ideal when like this, a classic fairytale prince who could sweep her off her feet. Actually, during the play, she had kept imagining herself opposite of Kai—and she could have played that role if she had wanted to but had been too scared to. But she wouldn’t tell Kai that, because it would get to his head.
“So enjoy your Prince Charming a little longer,” said Kai with a sinister cackle. “I’m going to dye this whole outfit black so that Tomoyo will never make me wear it again. Though, if you like me this way, I may reconsider.”
Meilin gulped hard. He looked every bit the part of the resplendent prince she might have imagined as a child to come sweeping her off her feet. “You do look very handsome like this. Yet, I rather prefer you as just plain old Mizuki Kai for some reason.” The Kai in his favorite pair of ripped up black jeans, who looked every bit as comfortable in his leather motorcycle jacket as in a regal gold-tasseled mantle.
And he grinned at her and bent in, giving her light, quick kiss before the next performers came on. “Sorry I couldn’t do that on stage.”
She grinned up at him. “I’m glad you didn’t. It’s cute to see even you can get flustered sometimes.”
“Even I get stage fright, sometimes,” admitted Kai. “But Sakura totally blew her opportunity this time, after all my efforts.”
Something occurred to Meilin, and she demanded, “How were you able to hypnotize Syaoran anyway?” She recalled how Kai had brainwashed Miho into believing her brother was dead without batting an eye last winter. And she reached over and grabbed the silver locket from under his shirt and yanked him toward her. “Have you ever tried to hypnotize me before?” She searched his periwinkle blue eyes that stared back at her frankly, eyes that have tricked her numerous times.
And the corner of his lips curved into a cryptic smile. “That’s a secret.”
Glancing away from the foolish thief reformist and his silly girlfriend, Kara turned her attention back to Jinyu, hair streaming down around him, costume half unbuttoned, making him more like a sinister Dragon King than ever. She asked, “Was Zian able to track down Zilai yet?”
Jinyu shook his head.
Fuutie glimpsed Jinyu, who looked the part of the triad boss in his regal black and silver apparel, though there was only one ruler of the Hong Kong underworld in her mind. She said slowly, “I think I know where Zilai might be. Did you forget? It’s Zino’s birthday today.”
Erika watched Jinyu close his eyes, wearily. “I did forget.” He speed-dialed a number and said quietly, “Zian, remember what day it is today? Zilai must be there—South Bay.”
“It would have been Zino’s 30th birthday, were he alive,” said Fuutie softly, as Sakura, Syaoran, and the others glanced at her quizzically. “That bay is where Zino and I first met, the same day as Father’s funeral—and also a special spot for him and his siblings. Zilai too must have needed a moment to grieve for her brother. Oddly enough, it was my father who somehow linked me to Zino, if I think about it.”
“South Bay—that’s where Zino’s ashes were scattered,” murmured Leiyun. “You may have already noticed, but Zino’s ability to turn into a White Tiger was a degenerative curse. It affected one in a generation in the Wu Clan. It was triggered on his 18th birthday—and most who were afflicted never lived beyond their 30th birthday.”
Fuutie glanced at the others and said, “I had always figured so much. But it seems like everybody knew of this, and I was the last to be told, as usual.”
“Zino guarded the secret well—I found out early on by chance,” said Leiyun. “Jinyu and even Zian didn’t know until near the end. That was part of the reason I was so opposed to your relationship in the beginning. I apologize for that.”
“Silly, Zino, he should have just told me, and we would have been able to find a way to break the curse together,” said Fuutie, shutting her eyes. “No, but he couldn’t, because I am a Li, and the Li Clan would have found a way to exploit him, the head of the Wu Clan, through me. I would have been his weak link.”
“It’s not that we didn’t try to break the curse,” said Leiyun. “I thought with the Five Force Treasures, if I found the Eye of the Dragon, there might be a way to lift it.”
Fuutie stared up at her cousin. “You. Your mission—you were looking for a way to save Zino.”
“Not just that,” said Leiyun. “But it didn’t matter, because I never did locate the Amamiya diamond, and it was too late, anyway, by the time I broke free from the Cavern of Reservoirs.”
And finally, Jinyu let out what must have been a sigh of relief as he checked a text message. “They located Zilai. Thank you, Fuutie.”
Fuutie gazed at the Black Dragon. “I’m glad I could be of help.”
Jinyu nodded curtly.
Sakura smiled wistfully. Perhaps that was the best she could hope for between the two’s awkward relationship. Fuutie remarked, “Sakura, thanks.”
Sakura shook her head rapidly. “I didn’t do anything at all.”
“Without you, I wouldn’t have come to realize,” said Fuutie. “I know I unfairly have been blaming Jinyu for everything—it was easier than acknowledging the fact that it was me who was too proud to return to Zino and stay by him after he broke up with me so cruelly. I kept thinking, there would be time, that he would come find me. But he never came. In the end, preserving the unity of the Hong Kong triads and securing the future of the Wu Clan was his top priority, and I understand that decision. I too admired that side of him.”
Jinyu said suddenly, “No. Till the end. You.”
“It’s all right now,” said Fuutie. “I thought I was alone in my grief, but his family, Zian, Zilai, they all grieve for him too. So do you, right Jinyu? If there is someone who cared for Zino as much as I did, it’s you. You too have suffered.” She turned to Sakura. “I am ready now, Card Mistress.”
Sakura nodded, releasing her staff from behind the curtains. “Spirit of the dark forces. I, Sakura command you. Return to a new shape under contract. Sakura Card!” And she held up the new Emotion Card, the Wrath.
“Wait, when did you overcome the Wrath?” asked Syaoran. “And how exactly?”
“While you were out cold,” replied Sakura softly. “Wrath gives way to forgiveness. And Fuutie-nee-san has learned to forgive Jinyu.” She glanced up at Syaoran’s eldest sister, whose blue eyes, so similar to Li Ryuuren’s, held a determined gaze. “All this time, I think she was searching for a way to forgive the Black Dragon, because I think that might have been Zino’s final wish.”
He stared at her hard and said, “You never do fail to impress me, Sakura.”
And Sakura beamed up at him though her eyes were misty.
Erika found herself alone with Leiyun, who had been bombarded with bouquets by fans of the school doctor.
“You were close to Wu Zino—I thought the Li Clan didn’t get along with the lowly mafia family,” remarked Erika.
“He was a good guy,” said Leiyun. “He genuinely looked after his people. He was simple and honest, a good leader, though he was mafia, and I admired him a great deal in that regard. It’s why I left Jinyu in his hands.”
Erika said grimly, “Are you ever going to admit to Fuutie? The truth behind Wu Zino’s death?”
“You knew.” Those chilling ice blue eyes that were watching the stage throughout the play flickered toward her. He said softly. “Why add salt to the wound?”
“Don’t you think she deserves to know the whole truth?” Erika asked, clutching an eye-shaped crystal on a chain hidden under her blouse. “And Jinyu has kept his silent out of loyalty not to Zino but to protect you, isn’t that right?”
Leiyun replied with a thin smile, “Believe what you will, but sometimes, the truth isn’t necessarily the path to a resolution. It’s the same reason why I wouldn’t tell them that Chang Risa also had a patron animal, or what it was.”
******
“I finally found you!” exclaimed Miho as she scoured backstage, through a clamor of students changing out of period costumes and another group of girls slipping into flouncy ballet tutus. The younger girl pulled along Tomoyo. “My sort of boyfriend needs your help!”
“Which one?” asked Tomoyo.
A flashy skinny boy with bleached orange hair Tomoyo knew was called Shouji grabbed her by both hands. “Daidouji-senpai! You have to help out our band! Please, I beg you!”
Tomoyo blinked. “I don’t understand. How can I help you?”
“Our main vocalist lost her voice completely. Ayu-chan practiced too hard all week long, and then she got too excited when the basketball team played the showcase match earlier today against Li-sensei and his cousins—she’s a huge fan of Akagi Aki-senpai, and blew her vocal chords completely,” said Shouji.
“That’s a pity,” said Tomoyo.
“So, we want you to be our vocalist!” said Shouji.
Tomoyo tilted her head. “Me?”
“Yes, you. You have the perfect voice, the voice of an angel! Perfect for my music!” The younger boy looked up at her with sparkling eyes.
“Shouji-kun, I don’t know if I’m the right person for this,” said Tomoyo. “And I’ve never really sung with a rock band before.”
“A band is just a minimalist orchestra! I’ve been too all your concerts, and I don't even like choral music, because I am your fan. I just know your voice will fit our band’s songs,” the younger boy insisted.
“Can’t you sing them since you are the band leader?” asked Tomoyo.
“The songs were written for female vocals,” he insisted.
Miho told Tomoyo, “Please help them out. Their band is actually good, and I know you’ll like their songs. Here, listen to their recordings.” She handed Tomoyo an MP3 player and earphones.
Tomoyo asked, “When is the performance?”
“In half an hour, after the ballet routine, jazz band, and the magic club.”
Tomoyo sighed. “Well, I’ll do what I can, but as I said, I feel like there must be someone else who can be a better substitute.”
Shouji shook his head. “No, it has to be you, Tomoyo-senpai—I can call you that, right?”
“Well, I’ll do the best I can,” Tomoyo said.
And they ushered her off to the band practice room. Tomoyo listened to the songs, and she found herself tapping her fingers on the table. Though she usually did not listen to punk rock, the songs were catchy and lyrics surprisingly poetic.
“Miho-chan wrote the lyrics for that song,” said Shouji. “I was really impressed with the Star-Crossed musical two years ago—and Broadway is so not my style. That’s why I was so psyched to learn we were in the same class this year—I went to a different junior high school but came to Seijou High because it has a stronger music curriculum.”
Their bassist passed Tomoyo the music sheets. “We’re only freshman, so we have time for three songs—but the student council said we can do an encore since we are going last.”
Tomoyo had listened through the songs once, and looked up. “Okay, let’s run through the songs.”
Miho frowned, “You guys will be able to run through the songs only once—is that enough time?
But Miho wasn’t surprised that Tomoyo had already memorized the melody. And she only glanced down at the lyrics a couple times. Well, Tomoyo had been lead soloist of the school choir since elementary school, Miho supposed, and was the cleverest person she knew besides Eriol.
“You guys didn’t have time to practice for an encore,” said Miho after they ran through the three songs rapidly.
“Tomoyo-senpai can choose an encore song that she knows—I trust we’ll be able to make a performance of a lifetime,” said Shouji. “Now, for the outfit!”
Miho clapped her hands together, bringing out a red tartan miniskirt and a lacy black blouse with a matching red tartan tie. The other band members left the room to let Tomoyo change.
Tomoyo changed into the outfit, tugging at the hem of the short skirt and said bashfully, “I don’t know. I’ve never quite worn something like this before.”
“You look awesome, it’s a totally new you,” said Miho, unraveling Tomoyo’s hair from its tight French braid and ruffled it over her shoulders.
Sitting in the audience now that their performance had wrapped up, Sakura turned to Meilin as a fantastic tap dancing performance came to a wrap. “Where is Tomoyo-chan—she’s been missing since the end of our play, hasn’t she?”
“I think I saw Miho-chan drag her off somewhere,” said Meilin. “What’s the last performance?”
“Some freshman kiddy band,” replied Kai with a yawn. “I think I might take a nap. It’s exhausting being a fairy godmother.”
And then, the lights went out on stage.
“Now, introducing the talented freshman band Catch You!” called out Yamazaki, the MC.
A spotlight fell on the center of the stage. The drummer counted off, and then Shouji played an electrifying riff on his guitar. And the main vocalist grabbed the mike stand, tapping her foot to the beat.
The female vocalist had long, unruly violet curls, with a large red tartan ribbon edged with black lace clipped on her head. She wore a matching tartan miniskirt with a black lace petticoat peeking out from underneath, a metal-studded black leather belt, fishnet thigh-high stockings with lace garters, and studded black leather platform boots fastened with silver buckles. The vocalist looked up to the audience as the spotlight flashed on her.
“Oh my gosh, it’s Tomoyo-chan!” exclaimed Sakura, bolting up from her seat.
“I totally didn’t recognize her,” said Kai. “Does she look 100 times hotter in that get-up or what?”
Meilin rolled her eyes at him. “You’re such a Goth.”
Kai retorted, “Just because I wear black doesn’t make me Goth.”
“Shush you two!” said Shiefa, turning her head around toward them. “Listen to how amazing Tomoyo-chan is.”
And Sakura had to agree, not because it was Tomoyo singing, because she already knew what a lovely voice her best friend had. But it was because she never knew how versatile Tomoyo’s voice truly was. Today, unlike usual, Tomoyo was belting her songs out like a rocker and was not overpowered by the band—the guitar, bass and drums rather complemented her vocals.
For some reason, Sakura scanned the row behind her to see if Eriol was in the audience. She didn’t know what expression he wore, since the light glared off his glasses. But he was leaned forward, and if she didn’t know better, she would say he seemed mesmerized by the figure on the stage. After all, Sakura simply enjoyed her friend’s singing, but Eriol was actually a skilled musician and had collaborated with Tomoyo many times—he probably best knew her true talent.
Reluctantly, Sakura turned around and glanced over the row in front of her where the Lis sat. To the end aisle was Leiyun. He too was watching, with those inscrutable icy blue eyes completely fixated on Tomoyo, unblinking. Where had she seen that expression before? Yes, it was like a cat that had caught a mouse and was waiting to pounce.
Sakura closed her eyes, as the third song came on, a slower, melancholy piece that fit Tomoyo’s pitch perfectly, as if it were written for her. The lyrics tugged her heart, as Tomoyo sang, “How futile it is to fight and rob for the sake of one's desires. When I shouted it out loud, the world turned its back on me without a word, it pushed me away as though it was testing me.”
Tomoyo looked up to the audience, raising up her hand. “For a moment, for eternity, since the beginning, till the furthest ends. Hey I really, I really want to know. Just what does it mean to live? When I ask that question, the world shakes a little and glows. The truth that sleeps within me is now quietly being released.”
Sakura brushed sudden tears away from her eyes, but was relieved to find that Miho and Meilin were sniffling as well. People were calling out “encore” from the audience after the last song.
“That was ‘Saigo no Kajitsu.—The Last Fruit.’ And now for the encore!” called out Tomoyo, catching her breath. “This one is dedicated to my classmates. ‘Tsubasa wo Kudasai!’” She glanced back at the band.
Shouji nodded—it was a song the band could easily play.
There was a wild applause as the last song came to an end, and Tomoyo beamed out at the audience. She was soon surrounded by people who came up to congratulate her.
“Tomoyo-chan! I didn’t recognize you for a moment up there!” exclaimed Sakura. “How could you not tell any of us that you will be performing with Shouji-kun’s band?”
“I didn’t have time—it was completely last minute!” replied Tomoyo, cheeks flushed, feeling strangely exhilarated.
Erika remarked to Kara, “I can’t believe it! That sly Tomoyo turned out to be the dark horse star of the night!”
“Her boots are awesome—I wonder where she got them,” Kara replied.
Shouji, the guitarist, embraced Tomoyo, much to the vexation of several observers. “You were amazing, Tomoyo-senpai! Thank you so much! You made the performance!”
“No, thank you,” said Tomoyo, smiling. “That was really fun. And your songs made the performance. They’re really amazing. I especially like the third one.”
“Oh that one. It was composed by Li-sensei. I only arranged it for the band because I liked it so much,” said Shouji. “It really is another level good, isn’t it? He even wrote the lyrics, which were a bit odd—not really my style—but rather poignant. I thought Li-sensei only does classical music but you should hear him play a mean riff on the guitar—on par with Tak Matsumoto, I say.”
Tomoyo recalled Leiyun telling her as the substitute music teacher, he was supervising the concert programming. She had played right into his hands.
******
“That was marvelous—Japanese high schoolers are so talented!” declared Shiefa to Touya as they streamed out of the auditorium to head toward the field outside for the bonfire dance. “Your little sister lights up the stage.”
“Right, doesn’t she?” said Touya with a proud grin.
“Unlike you!” exclaimed Shiefa with a snicker.
Yukito tilted his head. “You know, To-ya, I believe that play was even stranger than the Cinderella we put on in high school. Didn’t even think that was possible.”
“Everyone’s raving about Tomoyo’s rock star debut, and no one even remembers our play anymore,” grumbled Erika.
“Dairen! Where are you sneaking off? Are you actually trying to preorder a copy of the ‘The Forbidden Trials of Small Wolf and the Nefarious Thief of the Night: Episode 2?’” exclaimed Fuutie.
Clearing his throat, Dairen replied, “It’s for market research purposes.”
“Sure, sure,” said Fuutie. “I was wondering who stole my DVD of Forbidden Trials: Episode 1. It was you!”
“Dairen-san!” exclaimed Sakura, waving her hand at the man with glasses in a business suit, who looked younger with his bangs down today. “Did you enjoy the play?”
“Surprisingly so,” replied Dairen. “And you, Card Mistress, you invited me and were too busy to entertain me. I’m a bit disappointed. Where is this person you wanted to introduce me to?”
“Oh, you already met her,” said Sakura.
Dairen blinked. “I did?”
“She was showing you around the festival so well, I didn’t want to interrupt,” said Sakura. “You seemed like you were having a good time.”
“A good time? Me?” Dairen scowled, just momentarily resembling Syaoran. “I got pied in the face, had to borrow some student’s sweaty tracksuit, actually stood in line like a commoner to enter some café serving overpriced instant coffee, and consumed more grease and sugar today than in a whole year and now have antacid.”
Sakura beamed up at him. “See, you experienced the cultural festival thoroughly. Now, it’s time for the highlight, the bonfire dance. It’s my favorite part! I heard from the student council president we even have fireworks! It’ll be extra special since Kai-kun is in charge.”
“That’s where Syaoran got it from,” muttered Fuutie from the side.
“Got what?” asked Dairen dryly.
“The matchmaking bug,” Shiefa said with a chuckle. “Sakura’s got quite a nerve trying to set you up with her friend—doesn’t she know you are considered one of the most eligible young bachelors in Hong Kong and have a line of women awaiting your beckon. And with that awkward glass-eyed teenage girl of all people! As if she suits someone of your level.”
Dairen turned to his Shiefa, strangely peeved. “And who is someone who suits my level?”
Shiefa blinked, surprised at her cousin’s sudden outburst. “The women you usually date—the models and beautiful, vapid socialites who you would take out to expensive dinners, buy some jewelry, get photographed with, and then dump several months later.”
“So, you are basically implying I am vapid and shallow?” asked Dairen.
“I mean, your taste in women,” interjected Shiefa. “It’s not a big secret that you date girls who look good by your side for social functions. Women are business to you, a transaction, something without emotion, ready, and convenient.”
Dairen paused. “Is that really how you guys see me?”
Fuutie chuckled. “Why do you look so surprised? I mean, Sakura must have seen something broken in you that she felt compelled to heal.”
“Broken?” he repeated.
“That’s what she does,” said Shiefa. “She likes to take in broken people and nourish them with love and care. Look what she’s done for our Syaoran.”
“Yeah, he’s come a long way from that scowling little brat that used to follow you four sisters around like an obedient puppy,” remarked Dairen. “He was such a lost little cub when Leiyun took the poor boy under his wing.”
“I guess Leiyun’s like that too. He likes taking in broken people too,” said Fuutie.
Dairen raised an eyebrow. “Yes, and he breaks them even more in the process. I’m not sure how anybody bought into his nice, proper boy façade back in our school days.”
“Well, it speaks a lot that you were his closest confidant,” replied Fuutie. “I think he purposefully hung around with you because it made him seem like a much nicer person by comparison.”
Tomoyo, changed back into her school uniform though she had left her hair loose, watched the blazing bonfire lit in the center of the field. Couples, old and new, were dancing again today to the merry tune of the fiddle. It brought her back to last year’s cultural festival, which certainly had been eventful, with Sakura fainting in the fortuneteller’s tent and completely losing her memory of Syaoran. She had also danced with Eriol around the bonfire for the first time.
“Japanese high school cultural festivals sure are fun,” remarked Leiyun, who had slinked up next to her without making a sound. “Makes me almost regret it’s over.”
“Almost?” Tomoyo found herself asking despite herself.
“Yes, I didn’t realize how much work was required. I think I worked harder to prepare for this than back when I was Demon Master Great-Uncle Renshu’s only pupil,” said Leiyun.
“Well, you did a fantastic job with the orchestra,” said Tomoyo. “I knew I asked the right person. Thank you.”
“You did a terrific job directing the play, so kudos back to you,” said Leiyun. “You even pulled a surprise performance at the end with the band, stealing the show. How many tricks do you have up your sleeves, Director Daidouji?”
“The third song. I heard you composed it.”
“Yes. I wrote it for you.”
“I know,” replied Tomoyo. “It was the only one I felt comfortable singing of the three. Like it was written for my vocal range. It was a beautiful song.”
He was no longer watching the bonfire and stared down into her amethyst eyes quizzically. “I told you that you owed me a favor for doing the play’s music. Well, you can repay it now.” He held out a hand. “Dance with me.”
Tomoyo tried not to sound alarmed and said, “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re a teacher, and I’m a student.”
“I’m not really a teacher,” said Leiyun. “And you’re not really my student. Besides, I want to get the full experience of a high school festival. You should too instead of slaving away behind the scenes.” He took her hand and dragged her out to the field, as she ran through various excuses in her head.
Before she could think of one, he had positioned her to face him, and clasped her left hand, while putting his other hand around her waist. “Didn’t you want to check out for yourself to see if all Lis are given ballroom dancing lessons as a part of training growing up?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t doubt you are an exceptional dancer,” said Tomoyo. “You are a perfectionist. You watched through the last dance so that you could memorize the steps since you probably never did folk dancing.”
He laughed out loud. “Well, we shall see, Tomoyo-chan.” And the music began, and Tomoyo found him to be an excellent partner with an impeccable sense of rhythm and very courteous as well. His hands were not sweaty like boys her age, and he looked straight into her eyes, back straight, like he was dancing a waltz with her, though it was merely a high school folk dance.
The song came to a sudden halt, and she caught her breath, and found him still holding the small of her back. His thumb brushed her cheek briefly. “Good, it didn’t scar.” It took her a second to realize he referred to the cut from the shattered window. “Enough dancing—it’s not good for your ankle—it’s still not completely recovered.” True, she hadn’t noticed it much, but she realized that her legs were feeling a bit wobbly after running about all day long, narrating Cinderella, and performing with Shouji’s band.
Leiyun too danced just that one dance with her. Many other girls asked to dance with him afterward, but he turned them down with a laugh. Which was both troublesome and oddly flattering.
“Why are you standing around by yourself?” asked Eron, walking over to Sakura with ease, his crutches nowhere in sight.
“Eron-kun, is your foot okay?” asked Sakura dubiously, as Eron did not even make a pretense of limping anymore. In fact, he had been walking about fine the whole day, but everybody had been too busy to notice.
Eron chuckled. “Yup, it’s completely fine now.”
She let out a low sigh. “Let me guess, your foot wasn’t even injured in the first place, was it?”
“It was,” he replied. “I stubbed it during soccer practice.”
“Why did you pull out? You know, I get the sense that you rather enjoyed performing as Cinderella,” remarked Sakura. “I saw you at rehearsals, and I don’t think you minded dressing up as a girl at all.” Unlike Syaoran who had to be half forced into the pink princess dress.
“Even your brother pulled it off—and unlike him, I actually look good in a dress,” he replied with a careless shrug.
“Which means you faked the injury…to let Erika play Cinderella?” asked Sakura.
Eron smiled. “She’s always wanted to be a fairytale princess. Why not give her the spotlight once and let her be the heroine of her story? Without me in the way.”
“If that’s the case, you could have just asked Tomoyo in the first place to cast Erika as Cinderella,” said Sakura.
“There was a dark force or two on the loose,” Eron said. “I had to monitor the situation. Besides, I needed to screen the Prince.”
“And you’re okay with Jinyu-senpai?” asked Sakura, surprised.
“Have you seen some of the sleazeballs that Erika has dated in the past?” said Eron.
“Mike Kant was nice,” protested Sakura.
“He was the worst of the bunch,” Eron said vehemently clenching his hands into fists, making Sakura chuckle.
She remarked, “The Black Dragon only cares about Leiyun, so he’s all right in your eyes, right?”
“How did you know? Since you are laughing, I’m going to take it that you forgive me for my white lie.” Eron extended out a hand. “If you do, dance with me.”
Sakura shook her head. “I don’t feel like dancing.”
“Does that matter?” Eron said, the corner of his lips curling. “Besides, you know how jealous Syaoran gets. This would be a good opportunity to test him.”
“What do you mean?” asked Sakura.
“Don’t you want to see his expression? If he doesn’t care about you romantically, he shouldn’t care if I dance with you,” he replied.
Sakura said glumly, “He wouldn’t care either way.”
“Well, we’ll see,” said Eron, dragging her by her wrist toward the bonfire.
“Wait, Eron,” protested Sakura. Then she spotted Leiyun swirling around the bonfire with a girl tight in his embrace—not just any girl but Tomoyo. “What is he doing with Tomoyo-chan? We have to get nearer.”
“Sakura, we’re supposed to be rotating the other direction,” said Eron, as Sakura’s nails dug into his wrist.
“I can’t hear what they’re talking about,” said Sakura, kicking up her leg, twirling, and dragging Eron counterclockwise closer to Tomoyo and Leiyun.
“I don’t really think bonfire dances are the best place to hold deep, soul-baring conversations,” pointed out Eron. “Though the two of them somehow suit each other in an odd way.”
“Don’t say something so horrid!” exclaimed Sakura, as he twirled her around.
And Eron smile down at her. “You’re so protective of Tomoyo-chan. Will anyone be a worthy enough suitor for her in your eyes?”
“I don’t trust Leiyun-san,” Sakura said. “He’s up to something.”
“It beats hopelessly liking someone who is obsessed with a dead woman from a different century,” said Eron.
Sakura reported, “At least Eriol’s a gentleman!”
Eron remarked offhandedly, “Tomoyo-chan didn’t like it one bit when I dated you either.”
And Sakura glanced up at Eron properly for the first time during the dance. She had danced with him like this around the bonfire before. Sakura remembered that Chang Eron had confessed he loved her one year ago, ahead of the cultural festival. She had already thought of him as a good friend by then, she realized, and he now had indeed become someone dear to her, in a way she never could have imagined in junior high.
“Don’t you remember what you told me last year?” said Eron, as if reading her mind. “You told me the purpose of the cultural festival is teamwork. And if that’s the case, don’t you think mission has been accomplished?”
A popular American minstrel song filled the field.
“Oh, this is the first song I ever danced to with Yukito-san in elementary school,” said Sakura nostalgically.
“What made you like Yukito-san so much in the first place?” asked Eron. “He’s so bland and boring. I almost prefer Syaoran.”
“Yukito-san’s not bland!” exclaimed Sakura, red in the cheeks. “He’s the most
gentle, sweet, and caring person in the world.”
“If I were Syaoran, I would be jealous of Yukito-san,” remarked Eron.
“No, Syaoran knows how amazing Yukito-san is,” replied Sakura. In a whisper, she added, “In fact, he might even like Yukito-san more than I do.”
And Eron laughed out loud at this. “Why, because Yukito reminded him of his cousin Leiyun?”
“Don’t compare Yukito-san with Li-sensei!” exclaimed Sakura with a scowl. “They’re not alike at all!”
“Strange, I’ve never seen you outright dislike a person so much,” Eron said. “Not even me.”
Sakura mumbled, “I’ve never disliked you.”
“I admit, I’m too handsome to dislike, no matter how disagreeable I may be,” Eron said. “But I did bully you quite a bit, though you were too dense to pick up most of it.”
“You were cruel at times,” she said. “But I guess I would rather you be mean to me.”
“What, rather than me liking you and being nice?” Eron said, drawing her closer to him so that she was pressed up against his chest, far closer than high school dance etiquette. He stared down at her with golden eyes glowing like orbs. The orange flames of the bonfire cast him aglow. And he smiled thinly. “Syaoran’s watching.”
Sakura was unable to turn her head to check if he was really there.
“Well, looks like you've been friend-zoned,” Eron said, staring out into the crowd as Syaoran turned around and walked away. “I’m a bit surprised his restraint, actually. I mean I get that his priorities have changed since he became Great Elder, but it is a pity nonetheless.”
“What do you mean his priorities have changed?” Sakura asked, pulling away from Eron.
Eron replied, “You know, Sakura, there is actually a difference between your most important person and the person you love the most. Sometimes the two may be the same but often times they are not. You see, the difference is that for your most important person you would prioritize that person's happiness and well-being. But for the person you love, there is no such priority.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, when you love, you can start acting a bit more greedy and selfish,” Eron said with a crooked smile. “Look at me. To this day, someone like me would take advantage of your kindness and wait for any opening, because I chose to love selfishly, for my own gratification.”
Sakura felt a sinking in her heart as she came to a realization.
He whispered into her ear, “And look, Tomoyo and Leiyun left the bonfire two songs ago, and you are still dancing with me. Either, you must enjoy my company more than you admit, or, you really have nobody better to get love advice from. Isn’t that a little bit insensitive of you, dear Sakura, goading your ex-boyfriend? If you can even call me that.”
“I’ve got to go,” said Sakura.
“Do go,” he said. “But the damage has already been done.” He watched her run off, and murmured, “No chance for a confession tonight.” It had been a long day, the foot he had purposefully stubbed during soccer practice ached, and he was ready to call it a night.
“Onii-chan,” said Erika, stepping up beside him. “Let’s go home. I’m completely exhausted.”
“You did a good job today,” Eron told her.
“Of course,” she said. “It’s the stage you prepared for me; I wouldn’t disappoint you for the world. Though I really didn’t appreciate everyone trying to upstage me.”
“Well, you were the only star in my eyes,” said Eron. “Should we pick up Jinyu?”
“You actually get along with the Black Dragon?” asked Erika with a snort. “I thought he drove you crazy.”
Eron blinked. “Only in the context of Cinderella, and the moment I quit the titular role, it didn’t matter anymore. He’s pretty cool. And he has nice hair.”
The Black Dragon looked even more weary than usual, and he had for some reason been waiting for them at the school gate, hands in pockets.
With a scowl, Erika told him, “I’m still angry at you for running off in the middle of the play. But you did come back. So I half-forgive you. Let’s go home.” With a half-smile, Eron trailed behind the two, listening to Erika nitpick at all the errors Jinyu made in the script as they headed back home.
“That slinky Eron has been spending a lot of time around Sakura lately,” remarked Kai, perched on a high branch. “Hey, Syaoran. Are you okay with that? Eron’s dancing with Sakura.”
He could not see Syaoran’s face standing below the tree because of the shadow cast by the leaves. But Syaoran was unusually calm and silent.
“Go cut in or something—aren’t you worried?” said Kai. He watched Eron draw Sakura closer. And something he said made her smile. Kai turned to face Syaoran who was also watching the pair swirl around the bonfire. “Hey, Syaoran, say something. You’re scaring me.”
“I’m not worried because I trust Sakura. And you better take care of your own girlfriend,” Syaoran said, turning in the opposite direction from the bonfire.
Kai whistled and muttered under his breath, “Someone’s pissed. Better not interfere.” Then, he spotted Meilin stomping toward with a deep scowl, possibly in a fouler mood than Syaoran.
“What are you doing up there?” she demanded. “Have you been avoiding me this past hour? You know I was looking forward to the bonfire dance. Well, aren’t you going to ask me, or do you expect me to ask you?”
Kai sighed. “Bonfire dances are so not up my alley. Spare me, please.”
“It’s my first high school cultural festival. I was looking forward to it,” said Meilin. She frowned. “By the way, was that Leiyun with Tomoyo dancing together earlier, or were my eyes playing a trick on me?”
“I’m more worried about Eron and Sakura over there,” said Kai, leaping down on the ground beside her.
“Oh, Sakura-chan probably was determined to cut into Tomoyo-chan and Leiyun. Poor Eron-kun, he just got dragged along—wasn’t his leg supposed be in cast?” remarked Meilin. “And Syaoran, that idiot, is doing nothing.”
“Fork over the 1,000 yen. I think I won the bet,” said Kai with a smirk. “Cultural festival’s over, and no progress between Cherry Blossom and Little Wolf. I’ll give you a 50 percent discount if you let me off the bonfire dance.”
Meilin shrugged. “We have until the end of the night. And if you won’t dance with me I’ll just dance with Masuda-senpai then.”
“What?” Kai frowned. Who’s this Masuda-senpai?”
“Masuda Yoichi-senpai from the basketball team,” she replied. “He’s from Class 3-2. You know, he played the Old King in Cinderella.”
“You’d dance with another guy when you have me?
“Yes, if it will make you come catch me,” said Meilin with a laugh.
But that laughter was stifled when Kai wrapped his arms around her.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, squirming against his arms.
“I’ve already stolen you once away, so you can never escape,” he said. “And now, tell me about this Tony Tang. Are you really going to meet up with him in Hong Kong?”
“No, of course not!” exclaimed Meilin, aghast that he had overheard her conversation with Fuutie the other week. “Fuutie really has the strangest ideas. I mean, she’s the one who really should be finding a boyfriend.”
“I’ll have to do my best to not let you find another boyfriend,” he said, drawing her behind tree, into the shadows. “And I haven’t forgiven you for staying in touch with Wu Zian behind my back yet.”
Despite enjoying watching Kai’s antics with Syaoran, Naoko knew that there was a special softness in his eyes when he watched Meilin, which Meilin herself didn’t seem to be aware of. She got the sense that Kai needed Meilin more than Meilin needed him, though he probably didn’t realize that either. It was a change, for Meilin in elementary school had always wanted to feel needed, and she had found someone who direly needed her to the point he would be utterly helpless without her. Of course, Naoko herself couldn’t imagine taking on such a burden herself and wouldn’t ever want to because she valued freedom too much. From across the field, Naoko watched Chiharu drag a protesting Takashi off toward the bonfire and chuckled to herself at a scene she watched unfold each year. It would seem that it was Chiharu who was always nagging at and scolding Yamazaki Takashi, but in reality, it was Takashi who let her lead him. Naoko had been friends with Chiharu the longest out of anyone, and Chiharu had always been bossy and willful, but the one person who could counterbalance her at the end of the day was Takashi who was so good-natured that Naoko had never seen him lose his temper in over a decade of knowing him. The only other person she knew that could maintain such good temper all the time was Eriol, which was why she supposed the only classmates Eriol considered his equals were Tomoyo and Takashi. And of course, Mizuki-sensei was special to Eriol above all others.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” asked a crisp male voice beside her.
Naoko nearly jumped, wondering what it was about Lis being able sneak up without a sound—maybe they were vampires after all. “Dairen-san. I didn’t realize you were still around.”
“Sakura told me this is the highlight of the cultural festival,” said Dairen. “So shouldn’t you be dancing?”
“I don’t dance.”
“Can’t dance or don’t choose to dance?” he asked astutely. He held out a hand. “Well, let us see what the hype is about. Dance with me.”
Naoko looked up, surprised. Dairen was not the type of person who had ever danced at some school bonfire dance. “It’s all right. You don’t have to ask me to dance out of pity.”
“Won’t dance,” he murmured to himself. “Why would you think I am asking you out of pity?”
“Well, it’s not because you enjoy bonfire dancing, nor because you like me,” said Naoko. “So it must be because you feel sorry that I am sitting out, and you have a sense of gentlemanly obligation. Which you shouldn’t, because I thoroughly enjoy watching from here.”
Dairen said, “Perhaps you’ll like dancing with me even more.”
Naoko stared up at him with those soulful brown eyes. “Perhaps, but I know for sure I will like dancing with the person I love. So I’d rather wait, because that would make it more special.”
This Dairen chuckled. “Are you a hopeless romantic, or is that just your polite way of rejecting me?”
Naoko replied, “You’re probably someone who does not take rejection well, but I am too practical to be called a hopeless romantic. So, I would settle for, optimistic for romance.”
Dairen asked solemnly, “So, you too think I am a vapid and shallow person?”
In her frank manner, she replied, “No, you have not been vapid or shallow in the several hours I have known you. Except when you were moaning over your ruined suit. Which is justified if you are just a fashion-conscience person like Tomoyo, or perhaps obsessive compulsive about cleanliness. And if it was simply your vanity, that makes you shallow but not necessarily vapid.”
At this, Dairen burst out laughing, a rich hearty sound that even startled himself, and he turned straight-faced again.
Naoko asked, “So how did you enjoy your first Japanese cultural festival, Li Dairen-san?”
Dairen replied, “It was quite interesting. Most likely thanks to a magnificent guide. Thank you.”
To this, Naoko looked taken aback. So he was generous as well. “You’re welcome.”
“Naoko-chan!” called out Rika. “Come, let’s go see the fireworks!”
Naoko waved her hand. “I’m coming.” She glanced at Dairen over her shoulder. “I hope I was of some help for your market research. Enjoy the rest of your stay in Japan.”
“Wait, will you give me your phone number?” asked Dairen abruptly.
Naoko replied, “I’m not sure we would have any reason to contact each other once you leave.” And she ran off.
Stepping up beside his older cousin, Syaoran remarked, “I see you’ve met Yanagisawa Naoko.”
“She is quite something, isn’t she?” Dairen frowned, wondering when was the last time someone had blown him off so soundly.
“Yeah, she’s a clever girl,” said Syaoran. “One of the smartest in our grade.”
“She knows about you guys.”
“Well, it’s been some seven years since strange things began happening in this town. I would be worried about the intelligence of my classmates if they haven’t figured out something is off by now,” replied Syaoran
Dairen frowned. “Why don’t you erase their memories? It’s dangerous when too many commoners know about us.”
“But it seems like a waste doesn't it?” replied Syaoran with a slight smile. “They are trying their best to pretend that they do not know as not to worry Sakura. And to their credit, I don’t think she knows they know.”
“Why don’t they just tell her they know?” asked Dairen. “Seems more troublesome to act like they haven’t noticed the amount of abnormalities that have happened around her.”
Syaoran said, “It’s to maintain the status quo. Because sometimes the status quo is a safety crutch.”
“That Naoko-girl seems to think Sakura is a vampire slayer, and that we are a vampire clan,” remarked Dairen.
“Yeah, Naoko’s always been a strong believer of the supernatural,” said Syaoran. “Part of the reason I would feel hesitant to disappoint her and let her know we are just mere humans.”
“I guess that’s why she didn’t flit an eye when all the dark forces rampaged your play—she was directing all the extras and set hands to the left stage, or ushering them in an opposite direction whenever you guys so sloppily took care of the dark forces on stage,” remarked Dairen. “You guys are so not discreet—how did you manage for seven years?”
“I see—that’s expected of Naoko; she’s very intuitive and gets along with Tomoyo very well.” Syaoran paused. “I have Naoko’s phone number if you want it.”
Dairen glared at his younger cousin. “It’s not polite to eavesdrop.”
And Syaoran kept a straight face. “My sisters would have a ball if they hear you were rejected by a high school girl. Anyhow, I hope you give a good review of the board meeting when you see your father again.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” demanded Dairen.
“Of course not,” said Syaoran. “I’m just a messenger for Sakura. She says, Naoko is a literary-inclined person.”
“Like books or poems?” asked Dairen, wrinkling his nose. He liked numbers and statistics.
“No, like handwritten letters,” replied Syaoran.
“Who writes letters in this day and age?” Dairen demanded. “Oh wait, I forgot you do. I don’t know where you get your sappiness from—definitely not your sisters.”
“By the way, Dairen, I miscalculated about Kitagawa earlier—you heard about his escape. I apologize.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Dairen. “The whole plan was to find decisive evidence on who was giving him orders, and he has fallen nicely into our hands now. The Hong Kong crew will take care of matters now.”
“We’ve got to him before Uncle Wutai does.”
“Of course,” said Dairen. “So, who’s that pretty-boy your Sakura was dancing with earlier?”
“She’s not my Sakura,” replied Syaoran.
Dairen smirked. “Well, apparently not anymore.”
*******
The entire school and all the guests to the cultural festival had gathered outside to watch the fireworks, the last event of the night and the finale and highlight of the cultural festival. Sakura scanned the soccer field in search of Syaoran—she hadn’t seen him since the beginning of the bonfire dance.
“Oh, it’s time for the fireworks!” exclaimed Chiharu. “Come on, guys, let’s go up to the school roof deck so that we can see better! Takashi is saving us a spot.”
“I heard Kai got the student council in touch with the top fireworks company, so they’re going all out tonight!” said Rika. Her face lit up when she saw a familiar face. “Terada-sensei! You made it!”
“Sorry, I came as quickly as I could, but Eitoukou Academy was also holding our cultural festival,” replied their old homeroom teacher. “I heard you guys put on ‘Gotherella and the Misadventures of the Magician of the Night and the Wolf Prince?’”
Rika gasped. “We put on Cinderella!”
“Oh!” Terada Yoshiyuki chuckled. “I was confused by what your school play was about. It was only Cinderella!”
“Not quite,” replied Rika with a shudder. “It was like Star-Crossed if it was squeezed into one hour but had four different sub-plots, even more cast changes, and three—no four masterminds this time around.”
“Is the stage in tact?” asked Terada-sensei with a frown.
“Most of it,” whispered Rika.
“Hurry, Sakura, Tomoyo, so we can beat the crowd to the roof,” Naoko called out.
“You guys go ahead,” said Sakura, dodging the stampede of students hoping to get the best spot for firework viewing. Where had Syaoran disappeared to? This was her absolute last chance of the cultural festival to confess to Syaoran. And she dashed toward the opposite direction, across the field, toward the far end which bordered their old elementary school.
Sakura watched the brilliant flower of lights bloom in the night sky, as she caught her breath from sprinting one campus over, up a spiral of stairs up, to emerge at the top of the Tomoeda Elementary School clock tower. And there, she saw his silhouette, lit by the fireworks.
Syaoran always liked to have the highest vantage point, and this spot had always been his favorite refuge from the crowds back in elementary school. “How come you’re up here, alone?” she asked, gasping for breath.
“The view’s best from here,” he replied, as another sequence of fireworks exploded into the night sky like gold and silver confetti. Three winters ago, he had watched fireworks with Sakura at New Years’ Eve at Times Square in New York at midnight. Even then, she had somehow found him on a skyscraper in the middle of the busiest city in the world. And like an illusion, that girl he had often watched over from this very clock tower back in elementary school days, appeared by his side as if it was the most natural place to be. “How did you know I would be here?”
“Where else would you be?” Sakura remarked, glancing at Syaoran’s side profile, thinking this was the first time they were up at the clock tower together since they sealed the Time Card in elementary school. “You never did like crowds.”
“And you?” he asked. “Why aren’t you with the others?”
“Because I wanted to watch the fireworks with you,” she replied. She recalled the firework extravaganza Syaoran had prepared for her three winters ago in New York at the turn of a new year with the Explosive Card. Back then, she had been enthralled by the firework parade, the grandest she had ever seen in her life, caught up in the exhilarated moment when one year ended and a new one started. While she was aware of the booming, crackling sound behind her, she was more enthralled by his expression, slightly wistful as if he was reminiscing about something.
Up here, there was a slight breeze, much cooler than down in the dusty soccer field with the residual heat of the crackling bonfire. Syaoran was staring up at the sky, smiling rather boyishly, and his amber eyes caught the light of the exploding fireworks. There was nobody here, but the two of them, nobody to interrupt.
“Syaoran, I have something to tell you,” she said, spinning around to face him with determination. Would he think her crazy if she shouted out loud “I love you Syaoran” from the top of the elementary school clock tower?
“Me first,” he said.
Sakura blinked as Syaoran turned her direction for the first time.
“Thanks for saving Fuutie,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”
“I didn’t do anything,” murmured Sakura. “She already had all the answers—she only needed to know the why.”
“I would never have thought of using the play to get Jinyu to speak to her—nor would I have been able to seal the Wrath. Your drive to seek the truth and ability to draw out the best in people. I admire it.” He continued, “Secondly. Why did you dance with Eron?” There was the unspoken, “again.”
“You saw,” she mumbled. Of course he saw. He had been standing right there.
Syaoran glanced down at her coolly. “Are you dating him?”
Sakura clenched her fingers into tight balls. “No, of course not! He asked me. Tomoyo and Li-sensei were dancing, and I wanted to get closer to the bonfire to listen to what they were saying.”
“That’s all?”
“Yes, that’s all! There was no meaning to the dance.”
Syaoran bent a bit closer. For a moment, the night sky was pitch black as the fireworks fizzled. And then, it exploded into a dazzling watercolor of rainbow-hued flowers for the grant finale, lighting up his face. Sakura almost stepped back in surprise, for she had not noticed the cold gleam in his eyes now that he was facing her directly, unsmiling. He murmured into her ear, “Perhaps, I still do not completely understand Japanese culture. But it is to my understanding that the bonfire dance is significant for couples to confess their feelings. And you chose to dance with Eron.”
Sakura had wanted to dance with Syaoran more than anyone else. Yet, she didn’t. She had danced with Eron. She couldn’t tell Syaoran that perhaps she had wanted him to get jealous, for it seemed so petty, childish.
He asked slowly, “Do you like Chang Eron?”
“No!” exclaimed Sakura. “I mean, not in that way. I—I have someone else that I like.”
“Well then, don’t dance with people you don’t consider specially,” said Syaoran. “Next year’s bonfire dance will be your last in your school days. Make sure it’s with the person that you want to dance with.”
“Okay,” she squeaked. And then she realized that the fireworks had come to an end and the students over at the high school campus had snuffed out the bonfire and were winding down and cleaning up. She hadn’t gotten a chance to confess to Syaoran, and it had all been her fault.
“So, what is it that you wanted to say to me?” he asked her.
Sakura shook her head. “About Kitagawa-san’s disappearance. I’m sorry. It’s my fault for interfering that night.”
“It’s not your fault,” Syaoran said shortly. “And it’s not something for you to be concerned about.”
That felt worse than a slap in the face, and as if he saw the hurt in her eyes, Syaoran continued, “I don’t mean it that way. But the matter’s are beyond even my hands—once he is found in Hong Kong, he will be at the mercy of the Li Clan, and if indeed he is the main culprit behind the major hacks on our computer system, there’s little I can do to save him.”
Sakura nodded slowly.
“That’s not what you wanted to say to me though.”
“I wanted to let you know I didn’t end up signing with the modeling agency,” said Sakura. “But I won’t stop modeling. I want Tomoyo and her mother to continue managing me, if it doesn’t trouble them too much.”
“What did your brother and father say?”
“I haven’t told them yet. I’m telling you first,” said Sakura.
He reached over and petted her on the head. “I’m sure your brother will be able to accept your sincerity. And I for one think you will become a marvelous model, it that’s what you want to be.”
Sakura said, “The reason I want to be a model is for one person.”
“I know. Your mother,” said Syaoran. “She was a beautiful model. But I’m sure you will leave a mark with you own name and create your own image, separate from hers, and find your niche and audience.”
“Why do you know so much about modeling?” asked Sakura.
“My third sister Fanren—she’s in design school and also did part-time modeling, mostly a fitting model for other design students,” he replied.
Sakura heaved a long sigh. “Also, my first choice for college is Seijou University.”
“It’s the logical choice, I would think, for you,” he replied.
She desperately wanted to ask Syaoran what his top university was, if any of his choices was even in Japan. Or would he even enroll in college, since he was, after all, the Great Elder of the Li Clan and probably didn’t need to go to university. “One more thing,” she continued. “I wanted to tell you, I really—”
“Li Syaoran, I know you are up there! I can see you!” called out Shiefa with her boisterous voice from the front of the elementary school, peering up at the clock tower. “Dairen is furious that you invited him the cultural festival and didn’t even watch the fireworks with us!”
“It wasn’t me who invited him,” muttered Syaoran, ducking behind the ledge, pulling down Sakura with him.
“When are your sisters leaving?” whispered Sakura with a groan.
“Middle of next week,” replied Syaoran.
“Then can we meet at King Penguin Park on Friday evening?” Sakura blurted out.
Syaoran replied, “I have a video conference with the Elders that day—but after that?”
Sakura nodded, and clutched her heart—how was she going to prepare herself till Friday?
*******
“So, how did it go?” asked Tomoyo at school as the students finished cleaning up after the cultural festival and taking down the banners and decorations around the school. “Did you do it?”
Sakura groaned, burying her head in her arms. “No.”
“You two were alone for all that time up at the elementary school clock tower!” exclaimed Kai. “What in the world were you doing up there then?”
Sakura plopped on the floor, covering her face with her hands. “I messed everything up. Why did I dance with Eron? Why couldn’t I be a bit more truthful to Syaoran? I wanted to dance with Syaoran!”
“It’s all right,” said Tomoyo, patting her on the shoulder, secretly relieved that Sakura’s confession had failed because she definitely would have missed a chance to film it. “You tried your best.”
Sakura asked, “Meilin-chan, if Syaoran and Kai got into a fight whose side would you root for?”
Without batting an eyelash, Meilin replied, “Why, Syaoran of course.”
“Why?”
Meilin replied, “Because if Kai got into a fight with Syaoran I'm pretty sure Kai would be at fault and it would be for a good reason. Today’s case, just in point.”
“But Kai is your boyfriend.”
Meilin shrugged. “I've known Syaoran much longer, and he is the Great Elder of the Li Clan. His safety is my priority, and I have no doubt Kai can take care of himself.”
Sakura turned to Kai. “Are you okay with this?”
Kai replied, “She’s right, I probably would have provoked Syaoran first.”
“Did something come up?” asked Tomoyo with a slight frown.
“Eron said there can be a difference between your most important person and the person you love the most. Do you think there is a difference?” asked Sakura.
Tomoyo glanced over her shoulder at Eriol, who was chatting with Mizuki-sensei instead of cleaning.
Meilin nodded at this. “I guess it makes sense. Kai, you love me, but am I your most important person?”
“Nope,” said Kai. “Same goes to you, right, Mei? Your most important person will always be Li Syaoran, whoever you fall in love with or date.”
“What about Syaoran, who do you think is his most important person?” asked Sakura.
“Not a person—it’s the Li Clan. You’re competing against an indelible entity, no wonder you have an uphill battle,” said Kai. “Don't worry Sakura, I'm sure you are an important presence to him too—maybe just not the most important.”
“I guess you are right. Well, I’ve just got to be a little braver,” said Sakura, looking up determinedly, hands clenched into fists. “I’ll work harder from now on.”
Kai said gleefully, twiddling his thumbs, “Well looks like the cultural festival is over and no confession from Sakura still. Now fork over 1,000 yen, all of you.”
Meilin said scowled. “So that's why you were so keen on making advances on Syaoran recently! You were intentionally trying to sabotage Sakura and Syaoran’s relationship, weren't you?”
Kai exclaimed, “Me? No way! You know I spent a whole summer trying to get them together. If anything, the ones sabotaging their relationship is Sakura and Syaoran themselves.”
“It’s true Kai did a lot in terms of playing the two’s fairy godmother,” said Tomoyo.
“You surely do not seem to be putting in the same effort now as you did then,” remarked Meilin with a scowl.
“Well, things have changed since then,” declared Kai.
“Like what?” demanded Meilin.
“Back then I thought my time was limited, and I was going to die from the bullet wound, so seeing a happy couple brought to fruition through my efforts would be my last legacy,” said Kai. “But I didn’t die, so I might as well be entertained as long as possible in the meantime.”
Miho said glumly, “I heard it took Syaoran-senpai a whole semester to finally confess to Sakura-senpai back in elementary school, and that it happened only because he got called back to Hong Kong suddenly.”
“That was really nerve-racking to watch—it stopped being amusing after the first month,” said Tomoyo with a shudder. “Nowadays, I’m terrified I’m going to miss recording the moment, and I can’t keep up with this constant surveillance anymore.” She clutched her hands over her forehead. “Oh no, what if Sakura takes a whole semester too? Or worse, what if she doesn’t confess at all in high school?”
“Well, Sakura-chan is a lot gutsier than Syaoran,” said Meilin brightly.
“But she is also a lot less focused than Syaoran-senpai,” pointed out Miho.
“Now, stop trying to distract me. Hand over the money,” said Kai, hand outstretched.
Miho’s bottom lip trembled as she peered into her wallet. “But this is my allowance for the month! I wanted to get a new swimming suit since Shouji-kun invited me to the beach over summer break. You surely don’t mean to rip off your own little sister!”
“I most certainly do,” said Kai, eyes glinting. “Fair is fair, and I won this bet.”
“Swindler,” grumbled Meilin, slapping the cash into Kai’s open hand.
“I've been called worse,” said Kai with a careless shrug. “Come, let’s go to the diner for a late-night snack, on me of course.”
“I’m going to karaoke with Shouji-kun and the others,” declared Miho.
Kai frowned. “Do you know what time it is? Don’t you have a curfew?”
“Who are you to preach?” said Miho, sticking out her tongue at her brother. “Eriol doesn’t have a curfew for me.” And she ran off as her classmates, including the guitarist and bassist from Catch Me, waved to her.
Kai crumpled up the cash in his hand and growled, “I’m going to tie up this Shouji-kun to a boulder and drop him into the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.”
“She is sixteen now,” said Meilin. “Think what you were doing at that age.”
“That’s what worries me!” said Kai, ripping open another package of Pocky. “What some?”
Meilin blinked. “Do you keep those in your pockets? You’re completely ruining your punk rock image.”
In a corner, Tomoyo was distraught, mumbling to herself, “What if it takes the whole school year for Sakura to confess?”
Eriol reassured her, “We’ll just lock them up in a dungeon until she does. Though, we might have to wait another year for Syaoran to give a proper response.”
******
Kinomoto Sakura fidgeted sitting in the teachers’ lounge for her career consultation appointment with her homeroom teacher.
Mizuki Kaho glanced over Sakura’s file and said, “Well, I think Seijou University is a very good college choice for you—both its humanities and science departments are strong. If you keep up your grades, I’m sure you will have no problem with the entrance exams. Your brother also is a graduate from the school, so he will offer good advice, I’m sure. And your father is a renowned archeology professor, so his input would also be valuable.” She then glanced down at the career list. “Why did you leave this blank?”
“I really have no idea what I want to do,” replied Sakura.
“Well, it’s not like you have to follow this list,” said Kaho. “Oftentimes, people’s dream changes. Sometimes in university, sometimes afterward. When I was your age, I didn’t know that I would become a teacher.”
“Really? Then what did you want to become then?”
Kaho smiled slightly. “I always thought I would become a fulltime priestess, that it was my destiny. But when I was in university, I somehow ended up taking teaching courses. I enjoyed my experience as a student teacher at Seijou Junior High. And then I went to England to further my studies.”
Sakura stared up at her teacher. “Didn’t you take this job because you wanted to be near me?”
“Initially, yes, it was a part of the reason I chose to teach at Tomoeda Elementary School. But I genuinely enjoy being a teacher,” said Kaho. “Then there are some people who have always had a calling, a vocation. Like your father enjoys archeology through and through, or your brother, he wanted to heal because he vowed never to be helpless when a loved one is ill.”
“Is that why onii-chan became a doctor?” asked Sakura. “Because he watched Mother die in front of his eyes?”
Kaho smiled. “He was always a brilliant student. It was a natural choice for him. But for others, there aren’t such natural choices. So Sakura, it’s okay to take your time, to search out your interests, your talents, and your calling. Besides, don’t undermine the heavy duties you have undertaken from such an early age as Clow Reed’s successor. You became the Card Mistress as a 10-year-old. It’s a burden, a responsibility that is hefty for a child. Yet, you’ve done an excellent job.”
Sakura blushed happily. “Do you really think so? I’ve made so many mistakes. I’ve disappointed so many people.”
“You’ve done your best. And with that strength, you will be able to undertake what ever comes along your way, whether that be modeling or something else,” said Kaho with a smile. “Have you worked things out with your brother about professional modeling?”
“Kind of,” said Sakura. “I think he’s beginning to understand my view a little bit better now.”
“He’s just a worrywart,” said Kaho. “He always has been.”
“I know,” replied Sakura. “That’s why I’m going to work hard as to not disappoint him.”
Her teacher smiled at this. “Well, go on now. Let me know if your brother gives you a hard time. I’ll have another long talk with him.”
Another talk? As Sakura stood up, she glanced over at Mizuki-sensei’s desk and glimpsed Syaoran’s survey sheet.
“If you are curious about what someone has in mind, it’s best to ask that person directly,” said Kaho. “It avoids misunderstanding.”
But for Sakura, she would rather not know than learn of a future where she would no longer be a part of his life.
With a sigh, Kaho said, “Well, remind your father to schedule an appointment with me when he returns from the seminar. I know he’s busy because he is working on a new book. I am a big fan of his last piece.” And she watched the Card Mistress skip out, looking a lot more carefree than before she had come into counseling.
When Tomoyo came in next, the two stared at each other for a while. Kaho finally remarked, “I got a chance to meet with your mother last week. You’ve had scholarship offers from a music conservatory in Paris and from a fashion school in New York as well. But you haven’t listed any of them as your college choices.”
“No,” replied Tomoyo shortly.
“Because you don’t want to be separated from Sakura?” asked Kaho.
Tomoyo looked into her homeroom teacher’s eyes. “Yes.”
“Well, you seem to have a clear idea of what you want to with your career, and you certainly are talented enough to reach your dreams,” said Kaho. “I’ll let you go now. But if you have anything you want to confide in me about, I am here.”
But Tomoyo bowed politely and left. After she left, Kaho looked down her checklist saw that she the next student was perhaps the one that would give her the toughest time.
“What are you doing here?” Syaoran asked, aghast, as he entered the teachers’ office and found his oldest sister dressed up in a prim pinstriped navy business suit over a silk blouse. A glum Meilin was seated beside her, looking up at him miserably.
“I’m here for the parent-teacher conference on your career survey, in place of Mother,” said Fuutie with a smile.
“It’s really all right, you don’t have to sit in,” said Syaoran.
“I’m here for both you and Meilin, on behalf of Auntie,” said Fuutie.
Kaho greeted Fuutie and said with a smile, “My name is Mizuki Kaho. I am Syaoran and Meilin’s homeroom teacher. I had the pleasure of teaching them briefly in elementary school as well.”
Fuutie shifted through the records that Kaho had prepared. “I’m not sure if Syaoran can get into a decent college with this GPA.”
“It is true that Syaoran’s grades last year were all over the place with his major injury, transferring schools multiple times, and of course not getting to take the finals,” said Kaho. “But he has previously always been in the top five percentile, and is an extremely strong student, all around. If his grades continue in an upward trajectory, he should have no problem getting into the best universities either in Japan or overseas.”
“I’m not sure,” said Fuutie. “Mother was pretty horrified at Syaoran’s freshman year report card. How about Meilin?”
“Meilin’s also a strong student. She’s vice-captain of the gymnastics team and also has good leadership. She’s a little weak in literature, which is understandable because Japanese is not her native language,” said Kaho. “If she keeps up the good work, I’m sure she will be a compatible candidate for any school she applies for.”
“There are too many brains in their grade,” said Fuutie with a frown. “Syaoran never failed to score No. 1 in his grade in Hong Kong, but he never comes even top of the class here. Who’s the top of the grade at the moment?”
Kaho glanced through her records. “I believe it’s Mizuki Kai.”
Fuutie coughed. “Excuse me? The delinquent who dares to date my most precious younger brother and corrupt him?”
“Kai’s my precious cousin as well,” replied Kaho with a sweet smile. “And I’m sure they’re in a mature, consensual relationship.”
Meilin choked.
“How in the world is he top of the class—are you sure you aren’t favoring him because he’s related to you?” demanded Fuutie.
“Li Leiyun-sensei is the substitute music teacher, but doesn’t he treat Syaoran like every other student?” replied Kaho sweetly. “And also, Kai has always been a brilliant student—do you want to see his elementary school report card from Eitoukou Academy—the school Syaoran nearly flunked out of?”
“Well, our Syaoran’s records at his private school in Hong Kong also were top-notch!” exclaimed Fuutie.
“Kai is an archery gold medalist,” said Kaho.
Fuutie replied, “Syaoran is the soccer team captain—and an unparalleled martial artist.”
Syaoran groaned and mumbled an excuse to Mizuki-sensei, dragging his older sister out of the teachers’ room.
Fuutie as she emerged form the classroom declared, “I don’t like her one bit. She gives off very suspicious vibes and has a very unpleasant air about her.”
“She’s not that bad,” said Syaoran.
Meilin giggled. “Comes the day when you’re the one defending Mizuki-sensei. Are her moon powers that unpleasant to you lot?”
“I can’t believe Mizuki Kai is top of the grade,” grumbled Fuutie. “Isn’t Clow Reed’s reincarnation in your grade? And that sharp and perceptive Tomoyo as well—though I guess she spends all her time making clothes and filming. Either Kai is cheating. Or is that bad boy vibe all an act and is he some sort of nerd at home?”
“Something like that,” remarked Meilin with a chuckle. Thank goodness the Li delegation was going back to Hong Kong. She couldn’t wait.
Fuutie nodded at this. “You know, I was taken aback at how princely he did look once he combed down his hair and put on decent clothes. He does clean up pretty nicely. He’s rather Fanren’s type.”
Shiefa waved her hand. “How did you the parent-teacher meeting go?”
“Our Syaoran won’t get into college at this rate,” groaned Fuutie. “You won’t believe who’s top student of the grade.”
“Who, Kai?” Shiefa asked.
Fuutie blinked. “How did you know?”
“Have you talked with him? I was explaining to him the trouble I had with the glitches in our new super microchip sensor, and he gave me some very helpful pointers,” said Shiefa. “The guy is positively brilliant.”
“You mean the microchip you had planted in the bullet that pierced Kaitou Magician,” muttered Meilin.
“Oh, that’s why he’s so familiar with it since he was the first test subject,” said Shiefa. “That’s another good aspect of him. He doesn’t hold grudges.”
“I can’t believe Syaoran’s sisters are really leaving,” said Tomoyo in genuine disappointment.
“Finally,” said Leiyun with a long sigh of relief.
“I can go back home now?” asked Jinyu, turning to Leiyun.
“You kicked the Black Dragon out of the house?” demanded Meilin. “Where has he been living all this time?”
Leiyun blinked. “He wasn’t staying with you guys?”
“He was staying with me,” remarked Eron offhandedly.
The others turned to Eron. “The Black Dragon was living with you?” asked Meilin dumbfounded.
“Erika invited him to stay at our place after Syaoran’s psycho sister tried to strangle him,” said Eron.
“I thought you were getting along with the Black Dragon better recently,” remarked Sakura.
“They get along disturbingly well,” said Erika solemnly. “I felt like an intruder in my own home. They talk about best conditioners for long hair.”
Syaoran remarked, “But Jinyu has his own private apartment in Kabukicho in Shinjuku.”
Kai said, “Oh, I used to live there.”
Meilin swerved to Kai and demanded, “You used to live in Tokyo’s red-light district?”
“Yeah, when Leon-san was around, that’s where he lived,” said Kai. “You’ve been Kabukicho?”
“No!” exclaimed Meilin, then turned to Syaoran’s sisters. “You have to head to the airport soon, right?”
“Right, there might be some traffic, so we should head out now.” Fuutie swerved around and grabbed Kai’s hand. “Take good care of my brother. He may be a little rough around the edges, but he has a good heart.”
“I will, onee-sama,” said Kai solemnly.
“Sorry I misjudged you at first,” Shiefa said. “I heard you are at the top of your year. I hope you can be a good influence on our Syaoran.”
“I will try,” said Kai. “Leave him to me.”
Meilin rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me? Kai is my boyfriend!”
Fuutie and Shiefa turned to Meilin and heaved a sigh in unison. Shiefa said, “It’s not becoming to be jealous of your cousin finding true love. I’m sure you will find a good guy like Kai someday. But can’t you be a little bit more supportive of the two for now?”
“It’s okay,” said Kai graciously. “I will try harder to gain Meilin-chan’s approval. I hope she will be able to bless Syaoran and my relationship, someday.”
Fuutie nodded. “I’m sure she will come around.”
And Meilin swung around demanded to Syaoran, “Aren’t you going to clear up the misunderstanding before they leave? Tell them that Kai’s my boyfriend!”
Syaoran only shrugged. “Were my sisters ever ones to listen to me? Let them think what they want.”
“You’re okay with them thinking Kai is your lover?” demanded Meilin, shaking Syaoran by his shoulders. “He’s a thief, a villain who kidnapped me and stole your father’s sapphire ring!”
Syaoran replied, “Everyone has a past—let bygones be bygones. That’s what you told me, Meilin.”
Meilin’s jaw dropped again. She spun around and glared at Sakura. “This is all your fault.”
“Hoe, me?” asked Sakura.
“Yes,” she hissed under your breath. “If you had properly confessed to Syaoran at the cultural festival, he wouldn’t have given up and settled for Kai!”
Kai said waving to the sisters, “I will send my new Card Captor Clear Card Arc videogame prototype when I finish developing it. Email me if you have any questions about the microchip sensor, Shiefa-nee-sama!”
Meilin demanded, “How in the world are you able to get along so well with the sisters? Did you forget they are Lis?”
“I like them,” Kai replied with a shrug. “They’re pretty awesome.”
“Are you sure you’re not seeing Syaoran behind my back?” she hissed.
“I’m seeing you, behind his back,” replied Kai with a wink.
It suddenly struck Meilin that Kai was someone who could face off Syaoran’s sisters. Which meant, he was on an equal playing field with them. And that she had no chance against him, all along.
Sakura turned to Syaoran. “What’s a red-light district?”
Syaoran opened his mouth and shut it again. Looking away, he said, “It’s dangerous. Don’t go there.”
“Hoe?”
“I’m seeing my sisters off,” said Syaoran, rushing out, ears red.
Fuutie turned to her younger brother, as Wei waited by the parked car. “Syaoran, I’m really glad I came here. I think I learned a lot about you seeing the school you go to, the friends you are surrounded by. And I feel a bit more reassured leaving you here.”
“I’m fine in Japan, so take care of the family back home,” said Syaoran.
“It’s embarrassing. I wanted to be of some help, and instead, I became more of a nuisance,” said Fuutie with a long sigh. “I guess my baby brother really has grown up. I know you’re the Great Elder now, and you’ve been the Chosen One for seven years. But I can never forget when you came to my knees and were a wee little adorable thing with a bow in your hair.”
“A bow you guys put in my hair,” mumbled Syaoran.
“I think father would have been proud if he can see you now,” said Fuutie.
Syaoran looked up at his older sister. This could be the first time that she had mentioned their father to him.
“We’re all proud of you,” Shiefa continued. “And always remember, we are all supporting you Syaoran.”
“Thanks.”
Fuutie remarked, “Sakura’s grown into a marvelous Card Mistress.”
“Yeah,” said Syaoran with a crooked smile.
“And a wonderful young lady,” Fuutie added. “You’re going to have to work harder.”
He nodded. “I know.”
*******
Naoko yawned, exhausted now that the crazy cultural festival had come to a wrap, college counseling sessions had wrapped up, and summer vacation was around the bend.
“Papa, there’s a suspicious black Porsche parked outside our house,” remarked Naoko’s mother, a middle-aged housewife, peering out the living room window.
Naoko’s father replied, sipping on his coffee as he read the newspaper, “Well, it’s either mafia or valet service.”
With a frown, Naoko walked out of her house and indeed spotted a gleaming black car parked by the sidewalk. She didn’t even have to guess who it was because he was standing in a crisp slate gray suit, paired with a lavender silk tie, leaned against the car, as if waiting for her to come out. “Dairen-san. What are you doing here?”
“I’m going back to Hong Kong today,” he said.
She wondered if they were friendly enough to warrant he inform her of this. Everything about him was flashy and conspicuous in this quiet, suburban neighborhood she had spent her whole life in. She knew her parents and older sister had their noses pressed to the window.
Dairen continued, heedless, “I thought it appropriate to thank you again properly for showing me around the cultural festival the other day. It was fun.”
“It was my pleasure,” replied Naoko. “I had fun too. I hope it was useful for your market research purposes.”
“Very useful.” His glasses gleamed. “I thought perhaps I can again ask you for your mobile phone number. So we can stay in touch.”
“You are persistent, I give you that. You found out my home address, I’m sure you already know my phone number,” replied Naoko.
“Well yes, I do, but I thought it will be more polite if I call you after asking you for your number first instead of just calling straight out, you know,” said Dairen.
“Says the person who shows up at my front door unannounced. I’ll give you my email address. You can email me if you have anything you want to say,” said Naoko. “I’ve always wanted an overseas pen pal.”
“Pen pal?” repeated Dairen.
Naoko said, “Of course, I understand completely if you are to busy to write. After all, it must be busy running some huge conglomerate.”
“No, I will write,” said Dairen. He held out a business card. “You can contact me any time you want to. That has my personal mobile phone number on it.” He nodded to the chauffeur, who opened the car door. “Get in touch with me if you come to Hong Kong. I will return the favor and show you around, if you ever visit.”
And Naoko, with a business card in hand, watched the black Porsche with Li Dairen drive off down the road, pretty certain this was the last she had seen of him. Perhaps he really would write.
******
“Yippee they’re gone!” exclaimed Meilin gleefully, plopping down on Kai’s black leather couch. “Syaoran’s sisters are finally back in Hong Kong! What should we do?”
Kai, head leaned against the cushion, replied, “Stay in?”
With a scowl, Meilin said, “We never go out on a date, or do anything that normal couples do!”
Kai blinked. “You’re the one who told me to keep my distance while Syaoran’s sisters are here.”
“But even before, we never went out. I just want to go out on a movie date, go shopping together, or have dessert at a cute café, like Sakura and Syaoran did!”
“I take you to the best restaurants with private rooms. And I have a huge movie screening room in my house, so you can watch any movie you want, on demand, before they even premier,” said Kai.
“It’s not the same!” Meilin replied. “And why did you not tell me you were top of our grade?”
“I am?” Kai asked with a yawn.
She had never seen Kai do any homework or crack open a single textbook to study for exams at home. Well, granted he was one grade higher technically, still, he hadn’t even attended middle school. “How is that possible?” she demanded. “You’ve slept through every single exam we’ve taken so far.” She knew because she sat next to him.
“I finish the exams before I sleep, you know,” said Kai. “And it’s more troublesome to deliberately get answers wrong on tests, so I stopped trying.”
“You mean you deliberately got answers wrong before? What’s the matter with you?”
“You told me we have to take school seriously now that we are no longer freshmen, didn’t you?” asked Kai. “Believe it or not, I’ve had near perfect attendance this semester. Well, granted I’ve played hooky in the middle of the school day.”
“But why do you have to be No. 1?” demanded Meilin. “My rank dropped because of you!”
Kai’s lip curved into a sly smile. “What’s the point if I’m not No. 1?”
Meilin swirled around and faced Kai. “Liar. You’re the most competitive one, aren’t you?”
“Why do you think Kaitou Magician was the most wanted thief on the Interpol list?”
“That’s not something to be proud about!” exclaimed Meilin. “Besides, your parents don’t even care if you get No. 1 in your year or flunk a grade, do they?”
“I don’t try to be first for the sake of my parents,” said Kai. “I’ve never been anything but No.1 through elementary school. But Miho’s in high school now. I have to set a good example for her.”
“That’s why you’ve been coming to school every day!” exclaimed Meilin. “Because Miho’s in high school. And because you are at school anyway, you aren’t missing any tests—basically, you failed so many exams because you didn’t show up for most of them.”
Kai nodded, “Since I am in the classroom anyway, I do complete the tests.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What university are you aiming for?”
“Didn’t I tell you I already have my college degree?” asked Kai.
“I thought you were making that up,” said Meilin. “I mean, how did you find time to go to school if you were a thief?”
“Despite what you think of me, I tell minimal lies. I was in an accelerated program, and I didn’t have to attend classes—I just handed in the codes I wrote for the term project. It was a part of my dissertation, and I aced it, along with the defense, and got to graduate early,” said Kai. “My computer engineering degree from Caltech, it’s legit, not forged. I attended with my real name, not my pseudonym.”
“University doesn’t work like that! You need to fill a certain number of credits!” exclaimed Meilin.
“It’s true I didn’t attend many classes, but I had plenty of credits transferred from online college classes I’ve been taking over the years, plus, I had one-on-one seminars with my professors,” said Kai. “When I wasn’t stealing, I was still studying. I mean, I missed out on middle school, but I figured if thievery didn’t work out for me, I needed a backup plan.”
“I guess this comes after your stint in the red-light district?” Meilin frowned. “Why California? Why Caltech?”
“I needed to learn from the best of the best,” said Kai. “I had hit my limitations of what I could learn by myself, or in Japan. After Leon-san died, I had a lot of figuring out to do on my own. And I needed a change of scenery. For a while, my home base was Los Angeles—and I flew to different places for my burglaries. It’s a little over 11 hours to Tokyo from LA, and a little over 10 hours to London.”
How could she ever have thought that Kai was lazy and unmotivated? He had just learned everything at an accelerated rate at an early age, so he was bored with school now. It was understandable. “But Kaitou Magician never stole anything while in Los Angeles.”
“That’s why it was a good home base for the time being,” said Kai. “Nobody would imagine I was there. Well, granted I wasn’t there a lot.”
“And you didn’t answer, why Caltech.”
“Because there was a Nobel laureate professor in the medical engineering department who made groundbreaking discoveries on degenerative diseases,” said Kai. “I wasn’t going to rule out all possible ways of healing my mother. If the Five Forces Treasures failed me, I was going to fight back with modern medicine, which I have great faith in.”
“But how would that help with your mother’s situation? It was a dark force.”
“He was an alchemist who studied the works of Clow Reed. Of course, he is also a seasoned scientist and applied his magical knowledge to medical science. There are people like that. Like Dr. Li Jingmei.”
“I never knew that,” said Meilin. “And did you find an alternate solution there?”
“It would take too long,” replied Kai. “Modern medicine has not yet caught up to the speed of magic. Someday it might. That’s why I’m investing in bioengineering projects—we’re living in the era of the fourth industrial revolution, after all.”
Meilin gazed up at Kai. She’d forgotten this aspect of him. How focused and goal-oriented he was behind that nonchalant façade. There had never been a moment he hadn’t been striving toward some specific target. When he pretended to be slacking off, he was planning, plotting conniving, conquering. He was the type of archer who would only shoot bull’s-eye or die trying. It was this side of him that sometimes scared her. “By the way, I haven’t forgotten that you dodged answering how you even managed to hypnotize Syaoran—you didn’t drug him, did you?”
“You’re right, Syaoran has the strongest mental control out of anybody I know—he is the least likely person to ever give into some sort of dark force, yokai or spirit and let it take control of his body and mind,” said Kai. “Which made him the perfect candidate.”
“For what?”
“Do you remember how the Crystal Card was sealed? Sakura got herself pierced by the Crystal arrow to freeze her body and prevent the Phantom for taking control of her body,” said Kai. “A somewhat extreme preventative measure to keep from being corrupted by the Phantom. It also enabled Syaoran to release the Star Staff in her stead.”
Meilin frowned. “What does this have to do with the Inugami?”
“The body is a vassal—it can seal out a force, as did Sakura, or it can trap in one, as did Syaoran,” said Kai. “But the reality is, you can’t lend your body to a force, spirit, or yokai without it eventually taking control, without you losing your mind.”
“Like with Wu Zino?” asked Meilin. “But his case is different, I guess, since it’s a curse—a contract between the Wu Clan and the White Tiger.”
“My mother wondered for a long time why she was the only person who survived after sealing the Plague within her body,” said Kai. “She was also the only one who lost her mind. She thought it was because she was weak. But in fact, she was the last link keeping the Plague sealed, and so long as her body was fighting to keep the Plague trapped, it prevented it from breaking free of the seal that Amamiya Nadeshiko and Li Ryuuren had set.”
“So in fact, she may have been the strongest one of them all,” murmured Meilin. “Because she fought it and survived.”
“Perhaps,” Kai said. “At the end of the day, she still believes Sakura’s mother intentionally made it so that the least amount of the Plague was sealed within her because she was the weakest link. But I do wonder, what is true strength? Living on, or being able to die?”
She recalled that this was the person who had lied to Miho about his own death, had manipulated Sakura into using the Five Force Treasures to seal the Plague even if he knew it meant endangering the Card Mistress’ life, and ultimately was powerful enough to hold up a barrier that could keep out both Leiyun and Eriol. He had put his life on the line for the sake of saving his loved ones, delaying an operation to remove the bullet, and he also returned from the brink of death because of a sense of responsibility. She remembered the name he had whispered in his delirium then, Karin. Back then, she had not known, it had been his first love, Kamura Karin, now known as Kara Reed.
Meilin said slowly, “I think neither. Leiyun told me that humans posses both Thanatos, the death drive, self-destruction, and Eros, the life instinct, the tendency toward survival. Overcoming such conflicting instincts, I believe that may be strength in the end. But you tell me—you’re the one who was ready to die without batting an eye, and you also abruptly chose to receive that operation last year and live with all you’ve got. Why did you change your mind and choose to get the surgery?”
“Because you told me to—you told me that you didn’t want me to die,” Kai replied. “Do you remember what you said to me in Hong Kong, last year, before I got the surgery? You told me, ‘Because I’m scared, I’m human.’ Before you said those words, I did not know what it meant to be afraid because I truly believed I had nothing to lose then. But all that’s changed. I believe fear is not a sign of cowardice, but an indication you have a lot to lose. And having a lot to lose means that you have a lot of things to protect, a reason to live.”
She remembered that conversation, on the Hong Kong harbor, a moment that seemed eons ago, the moment she may have realized how dear Mizuki Kai had become to her, that the mere thought of losing him hurt. Their two worlds should never have collided, but for some reason, he had chosen to kidnap her that spring two years ago, during the junior high carnival-themed cultural festival.
What her friends didn’t know was that she had been the one to jump at him. If she had wanted to, he had given her a split moment to escape him. But she had been curious, lured in by that mysterious Thief of the Night. She had never told him, but it was his voice, his lulling enigmatic voice that had enticed her in the first place. Even today, she wasn’t sure if she loved Mizuki Kai, at least not in the sense she had believed people did in her childhood. And in another two years from now, she didn’t know if Kai would still be by her side, or she by his. But there was no reason to worry about the future, for now. Because she wanted to live in the present, and right now, she wanted to be with him. She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the mouth, catching him off guard.
“What was that for?” he asked, touching his lips.
“Because you were too chicken to do it.” With a mischievous grin, Meilin held up a pink DVD. “So, I’ve been dying to find out what’s on this DVD. Syaoran keeps it hidden all the time, and I swiped it from his laptop CD-ROM drive since he’s out.”
“I wonder if I’ve been a bad influence on you?” remarked Kai somberly.
She popped the disc into Kai’s DVD player, and watched an elementary school Sakura, in her black and white sailor-style uniform pop up on the screen. And she waved her hand, smiling, and called out, “Syaoran-kun.” Another image of Sakura in a beribboned hot pink battle costume flashed on, and she glanced over her shoulder and her face lit up. “Syaoran-kun!” Then a slight older Sakura in a white dress, holding a bouquet of lilies beamed up at someone off camera and exclaimed, “Syaoran!”
And as they watched on, Meilin’s jaw dropped. It was an hour-long amalgamation of HD clips of Sakura, through various ages, calling out, “Syaoran-kun or Syaoran!” with ASMR quality sound.
“That is strangely hypnotic,” said Kai with a yawn. “No wonder Syaoran doesn’t have problems falling asleep any more. It’s apparently cured Syaoran of his insomnia.”
Meilin yawned as well. “That was anticlimactic. I don’t know if that is nauseating or healing to the soul. Tomoyo’s a genius.”
******
Tomoyo walked into the odd sight of Li Leiyun seated on the floor of the music room, sheets of paper spread out around him, pencil tucked behind his ears. Clearing her throat, she knocked on the slightly ajar music room door. She hadn’t spoken with Leiyun alone since the bonfire dance at the end of the cultural festival.
He didn’t even look up from the floor and told her, “Pass me the clear file over there when you come in, Tomoyo.”
She passed the clear file to him, and crouched on the floor next to him. “What are you doing?”
“Organizing curriculum notes and sheet music for Nomura-sensei,” replied Leiyun, stuffing the clear file with sheet music full of notes.
“Who?” Oh, their regular music teacher.
“What, did you forget I was only your substitute teacher?” asked Leiyun. “Are you sad I won’t be teaching music next semester?”
In fact, she had almost forgotten Leiyun had only been a substitute music teacher, and had rather grown to enjoy his unconventional classes. “You are a better music teacher than school doctor, you know.”
“Obviously, since I know something about one subject and not the other. Can you put these sheets in that clear file?” asked Leiyun, handing her stacks of sheet music.
She glanced down and realized the song was “Tsubasa wo Kudosai,” with many notes taken on the side about each students strengths and weakness. Chiharu—good sense of rhythm and harmony. Naoko—alto, a little bit flat in the chorus. Aki—good voice but doesn’t hold notes and misses cues. Takashi—makes up lyrics but one of few basses in class so important for harmonizing. Sakura—nice soprano voice, a bit soft-spoken, so needs to sing louder. Kai—never heard his singing voice. Tomoyo scanned the pages, curious if he had written anything about her. But there was no mention of her, and she proceeded to put the sheets in the clear file labeled Class 2-2—her class.
“I didn’t expect to sing that song for your encore performance with Shouji’s band at the cultural festival,” remarked Leiyun, as he stacked the clear files on the teacher’s desk, brushing his hands.
“I had no time to prepare anything, because it was so last-minute.”
“I heard from Mizuki-sensei that you turned down scholarship offers from the Royal Academy of Music in London and Parsons in New York,” remarked Leiyun.
“Do you think I should have taken it?” asked Tomoyo.
“Does it matter what I think? It’s your choice,” replied Leiyun.
“And do you regret it?” asked Tomoyo. “Not being able to study music in London?”
“Just who told you about that? My blabbermouth cousins?” He stared down at the sheets of music he was holding his hands. “You see, I never had talent, or dreams, or the creative bug. I passed time with music, that’s all. I also wanted to defy my father, send panicking. Even if I had gone, I would have wasted time, and I am sure I would have still ended up back here. The only difference is, I may have been a legit music teacher. If you are born into my family, with certain powers, you don’t have choice, the leisure to make decisions. But you’re different. You are normal. You can walk away from all this and go pursue your dreams and talents without being bound, burdened. It’s not your duty to save the world and keep balance and order.”
“So, you think I should leave everything behind?” asked Tomoyo.
“Yes, you’re talented but unrefined. If you stay in this small town in your current role, you will stop growing,” said Leiyun. “If you have talent, you have to challenge yourself, find the best mentors, seek a larger stage and elevate your craft to the next level. But if you stay here, you probably will end up taking over your mother’s toy company and continue sewing as a hobby, maybe perform in your town choir for Christmas.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
Leiyun smiled crookedly. “Nothing—whatever makes you happy is fine. And it gives those who aren’t as talented a shot at making it. Why listen to me anyway—I’m not your homeroom teacher, nor school counselor. I didn’t even go to college.”
“But I got a feeling you’d get it,” said Tomoyo quietly. “The fear of not being able to live up to expectations and the terror of not living up to my own potential.”
Leiyun stood up, brushing the dust from his pants. “You are a good girl, aren’t you? If I were a real high school teacher, I would probably tell you it’s okay to fail, it’s okay not to be perfect, that you don’t have to push yourself too hard.” He grinned slightly. “But I’m only an imposter teacher, so I’d state the absolute fact—that your talents will plateau and rot eventually if you take the easy route out. In a flash, Sakura and your friends will have already moved on, and you will find yourself left behind.”
Briefly, Tomoyo wondered if that last line was more directed at himself than at her.
“What does Hiiragizawa Eriol think about it all?” asked Leiyun abruptly.
“Who? Eriol-kun?” Tomoyo glanced up at him. “Why him all of a sudden.”
“Well, he’s the only one with any sort of musical knowledge in this school. So, does he think you should study abroad? Study music, maybe pursue fashion design—or do both.”
Tomoyo said shortly, “He thinks I should do what makes me happy.”
“It’s something I noticed when he came for you at the Li mansion, when he thought I was doing unsavory things to you, and again the other week when he came storming into this classroom to retrieve you,” said Leiyun. “But he is very possessive of you. I wonder why.”
“He’s not possessive of me.”
“I thought of it, and I realized, Clow Reed is one who likes to collect—hence he created the Clow Cards. He is socially inept, so he likes to gather pretty things, and you are one of those pretty things in his collection. That is why he’s unwilling to let you go.” Leiyun paused. “If I were him, I would have told you to go far, far away from here, away from the clutches of the Five Force Magicians and the likes of him and me, where you will be safe, where you can pursue your dreams and take flight on your own.”
Tomoyo gazed up at him levelly with her staid violet eyes. “How silly, as if anything you, or Eriol, or anyone for a matter of fact could say, would keep me from being by Sakura’s side.”
“Yet another reason to despise that fluffy creature vomited from rainbows and sparkles,” she thought he muttered under his breath. And he grinned down at her lazily, as if pleased by something. “So, why did you come looking for me? Surely not for meaningless career advice or to thoroughly crush my ego once again?”
She held up a clear CD case. “I burned you the old demo tapes of Li Ryuuren-san playing the score the Star-Crossed musical.”
“You remembered. Thank you.”
“I remastered and burned the CDs for Syaoran’s sisters—I just made an extra copy,” replied Tomoyo.
Leiyun stared down at the CD woefully. “I don’t think I own a CD player though. They seem to have gone completely out of use while I was gone.”
Tomoyo blinked. “Well, there is one here.” She walked over to the multimedia player in the music room and inserted the CD into the slot.
The sound quality was not the best, as it was recorded on cassette tape nearly three decades ago and then burned onto a CD, but Tomoyo had done her best to digitally restore it to its fullest potential. And the wrenching sound of violin filled the music room through the speakers.
“This song,” said Leiyun, closing his eyes, tapping his fingertips atop the shut piano lid. “I was always haunted by those first chords. I can always recognize Uncle Ryuuren’s sound. It’s like no other.”
Tomoyo had found violin recordings of only three songs from the Star-Crossed musical. One piece was mainly piano—definitely played by Nadeshiko—accompanied by the violin.
She watched Leiyun’s expression in fascination, his eyes a brilliant turquoise, a sad smile lingering on his lips. “So this is how the song ends,” he said more to himself than her. “It always haunted me, not knowing.”
The pursuit of an incomplete melody, Tomoyo knew very well. “There was one other recording, not of the Star-Crossed score, but I’m pretty sure it is Li Ryuuren-san playing.”
A scratchy recording of a familiar hymn drifted out of the speakers. “Amazing Grace,” whispered Leiyun. “I never thought I’d hear him play it again.”
“Do you hear?” asked Tomoyo. “His rendition was as you said, yearning, despairing, searching for salvation. But do you know, Li-sensei, you have your own distinct sound. And your version was full of hope. And frankly, I prefer your rendition because it conveys the true meaning of the song, of a soul that has been lost then found.”
Leiyun glanced down at her bemusedly. “Are you trying to compliment me or console me?”
“That song you composed for Shouji’s band, ‘Saigo no Kajitsu’—when did you have
the time to write it?” asked Tomoyo. “You were busy with the Cinderella
orchestra and organizing the concert portion of the cultural festival.”
“Oh, I already thought of the basic chords back around Christmas.”
“Last Christmas?”
“Yes, after your choir completion,” he replied with a thin smile. “Didn’t I tell you I was determined to make a particular songbird sing for even a wretch like me?”
******
Tomoyo couldn’t help but letting out a squeal as Sakura posed in front of a set with a sky-blue backdrop, artificial wind whipping back her hair, as they stood in a film studio in Tokyo. She brushed off Leiyun’s words at school as his usual warped sense of humor, easily distracted upon seeing how adorable Sakura looked in a navy sailor uniform, her hair tied up into pigtails with white ribbons. Off-screen, the special effects manager released cherry blossom petals, and turned up the fan. Sakura unwrapped a white candy and popped it into her mouth. She shut her eyes and smiled blissfully, and the camera zoomed up to her face.
“Cut! Perfect Sakura-chan!” called out the director of the commercial shoot. “Are you sure this is your first time filming a commercial? Amazing, we did it in one take without NGs! Now, hold up the candy, and say, ‘Love is always candy.’ Remember, a pause before ‘candy,’”
Sakura nodded. She held up the candy and smiled toward the camera. “Koi wa itsudatte candy. Fruits Candy.”
Tomoyo sighed in bliss. Sakura absolutely nailed the line—the only spoken words of the commercial for a new type of fruity-flavored candy. And the commercial shoot wrapped, and Sakura bowed to the director and staff, who called out to her “good job!” She ran up to Tomoyo in her school uniform. “How was it?”
“Wonderful!” Tomoyo exclaimed, handing Sakura a bottle of water. “I knew you were perfect for a candy commercial.”
Sakura nodded, stuffing her face with another candy. “But it’s so delicious—it doesn’t seem like I’m working.”
Tomoyo chuckled at Sakura’s sweet tooth. “By the way, Sakura-chan, I heard from Mother that you turned down the modeling agency’s offer.”
“Yes.” Sakura took her best friend’s hands. “Tomoyo-chan, I realized I do enjoy modeling. But most of it is because it’s an experience I can share with you. Just like we have been doing, for the past seven years, since I became Card Captor. So, if it isn’t an inconvenience to you, can you be my agent a little bit longer? I don’t know what I want to do with my life. It’s hard enough just trying to guide the Alliance of the Stars and fend of the Dark Ones and find the answer that the Great Five were not able to resolve. But I do know that what I like best is bringing happiness to people. And with modeling, I feel like I can do that.”
Tomoyo beamed at Sakura. “I was waiting for you to ask. Of course I will be your manager, so long as you will have me. I love spending time with Sakura-chan, too. Oh, and we had a callback from Seventeen and Vivi, and I also submitted your portfolio to Tokyo Girls Collection. I think you will be busy through the summer, whether you have a talent agency or not.”
“Hoe but you usually go on a summer break trip abroad with your mother,” said Sakura.
“Don’t worry about that, it’ll all work out. And how about your other dilemma?” asked Tomoyo. “Any progress now that his sisters are gone?”
Sakura’s head drooped. “I asked to meet with him at King Penguin Park tomorrow. But I have no idea what to say to him. When I confessed to Yukito-san, I knew that he liked somebody else, and I knew that I would get rejected. And I didn’t mind so much. But with Syaoran, it’s different.”
“You said you were afraid of ruining what you have right now. And how would you describe the relationship you two have right now?” asked Tomoyo slowly.
Sakura was about to automatically reply “good friends,” but she had to pause. The bond they had went beyond mere friendship. They’d served as rivals, friends, briefly even enemies. Ever since she had learned that Syaoran had given up his powers to save her, that his magic flowed within her and sustained her for the past year, she had felt like her body did not completely belong to herself anymore, that she belonged to him, and that a part of him was always within her. Syaoran had once told her, “Love can lead to marriage but marriage does not necessarily mean love.” He had also told her, “The person you want to spend the rest of your life with should be your most important person.”
“It was okay that Yukito-san liked my brother, not me. But with Syaoran, it’s different. I’m afraid of not being his most important person,” Sakura admitted softly. “And I’m even more afraid of not being loved by him, of being rejected by him.”
Tomoyo smiled gently. “Don’t you think, if you confess to Syaoran, Syaoran will give you a Syaoran-like answer?”
Sakura nodded. “You’re right, I am sure he will.”
******
Sakura looked up at her father and brother after dinner, clearing her throat. “Otou-san, onii-chan, I have something I want to tell both of you.” She took a deep breath in. “I’ve thought about it hard, and I do want to continue modeling, after all.”
Kinomoto Touya groaned out loud, placing his forehead on his palm.
“But I will not sign with a modeling agency for the time being,” she continued. “Tomoyo-chan has been managing me so far, without a hitch, and of course Aunt Sonomi has been giving advice on the bigger decisions. I want it to remain that way for now.”
“Yes, Daidouji Sonomi-san has also been in touch with me,” said Fujitaka. “She’s very knowledgeable in the field, because she helped to managed Nadeshiko-san’s career early on when she just got started in modeling.”
“I still believe this is a terrible idea,” said Touya.
“I have some jobs booked through the summer, but I promise I am not going to let modeling interfere with my schoolwork and college preparation,” continued Sakura. “I know that my mother didn’t have an opportunity to go to university. And I know she would have wanted me to seize every opportunity to find my own path and happiness. So long as I am giving the chance, I want to try as many things as possible.”
Fujitaka nodded. “I agree that is what she would have wanted for you. As do I.”
With a frown, Touya said, “But there are many other ways to do that—why modeling out of all things?”
“When my mother died, her photos were a great solace, a means for her to stay present in all of our lives,” Sakura said, glancing at her brother. “I know she became a professional model in order to earn a living, but it was, I believe her own way to reach out to people. To be remembered. To not be forgotten.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” said Fujitaka.
Sakura said, “Many things in my life, I feel were granted to me, and many things I’ve had no say in, for they were decided by greater forces out there. But this, I want to choose for myself.”
Fujitaka said softly, “You have really become a young woman while I haven’t been watching. I’ll always support your choices.”
“Well so long as Aunt Sonomi is managing you, I guess it should be all right,” said Touya reluctantly. “Your grades better not drop. And no late hours. Definitely report back to me on every job you take. And no boys!”
Sakura smiled. “Yes, onii-chan. Thank you for worrying about me.”
“I’m not worrying about you, you impossible little kaijou!” grumbled Touya.
******
The sun had set by the time Sakura arrived at King Penguin Park. The giant blue penguin slide looked so much smaller than it had during childhood. When she recalled seven years ago, that day she told Syaoran she had been rejected by Yukito-san, she had been crying so hard that all she could recall was the soothing sound of his voice, the slight scratchiness of his tan-colored jacket against her cheek, and the clean floral scent of his blue handkerchief. The afternoon sun had painted the playground a blinding gold and ember, and he had been there, warm, kind, comforting, and yet, no matter how much she tried to remember his face, she could not recall it.
And over there, she could almost see Syaoran in a brown wool duffel coat, hands in pockets, steam coming from his mouth, sitting on the wooden bench, just last Christmas. He had glanced up at her with those amber eyes that gazed straight into her eyes, telling her casually with a gentle smile, “You’re late. You always keep me waiting, don’t you?” As if it was the most natural thing for him to be waiting there, when they had spent the good part of the past year not on speaking terms. She touched her left wrist, her wristwatch shaped like cherry blossom ticking, ticking since last Christmas Eve, when an unspoken truce had been made between them. That magical hour before midnight, they had agreed to set aside difference and just be, before the town hall bell tower struck, harkening a new day.
Sakura stared at her phone, but there was no message from him. Perhaps it was a mistake not confirming with Syaoran before coming out here. With the cultural festival over and college counseling sessions and exams, there had been little opportunity to speak with Syaoran alone. Maybe it was her folly to expect him to show up without any sort of confirmation. And yet, she couldn’t quite bring herself to call him, for he could very well be in the middle of his video conference with the Li Clan. So all she could do was wait and watch the lampposts light up one by one.
There, at the end of the road, she could only decipher a lone silhouette haloed by neon light as the last lamp flickered on, but she knew it was him.
From a distance, Li Syaoran watched the girl sitting awkwardly on the swing set, head lowered down, feet dragging along the sand pit below. In the darkness, he could almost mistake her for the heartbroken 10-year-old girl that had sat there in that same spot, with large tears dripping down from her emerald green eyes, plopping down onto her lap. But the girl today was definitely older, legs reaching beyond the sand pit, with a slight wistful expression as she stared up at the starry night sky.
Hearing his footsteps, she glanced up and her whole face lit up instantly. “Syaoran.”
And again, they were back at this little playground at the heart of Tomoeda. Seven years ago, he had told her that surely she would find her most important person, someday. Back then, he knew he certainly would have to return to Hong Kong, that he would not likely be by her side the next year, or the following one. Back then, he hadn’t even been sure they could discover and defeat the unknown mastermind creating havoc in the town and enable Sakura’s transition into mistress of the newly converted Clow Cards. Back then, she would confide in him her deepest thoughts and worries, so naturally. Back then, all he could do was listen. Back then, he had not factored in that all these years later, he would be standing here in this musty playground, watching her on that same creaky swing set.
Yet, against all odds, here she was, just an arm’s length away. Even now, he did not know if he would be by her side next year or the year after that. He did not know if they could defeat the Dark Ones and restore order in the world. Then again, he was certain of one truth, the only truth that mattered.
“Did you wait long?” he asked Sakura. “Sorry, the video conference with the Elders ran long.”
“No,” she lied. “Did Fuutie and Shiefa-nee-san return to Hong Kong safely?”
“Yeah, but my other two sisters have been threatening to come visit too,” said Syaoran, taking a seat on the swing next to her. “Fanren’s the one to watch out for—even Leiyun couldn’t touch her.”
Sakura chuckled at this. “I like your sisters—they care about you awfully.”
“Awfully being the imperative. Still, all in all, I guess the cultural festival could have gone worse.” He heaved a sigh. “Though I did get possessed by a dog demon, Jinyu punched me in the stomach nearly breaking a ribcage or two, and you...” He glanced over at her for a brief second, and trailed off.
Sakura swallowed hard, as she recalled how she had idiotically ended up dancing with Eron—she still blamed Li Leiyun for moving on Tomoyo. She’d just continued to blunder because truth was, she had no clue what to do when it came to Syaoran. Where did she start in her confession to Syaoran? She had been so bent on getting time alone with him, that she had not even thought beyond that.
“By the way, I had Jingmei examine me,” remarked Syaoran. “You were right. I was diagnosed with acute sleep deprivation. It was my hubris, thinking I can handle everything on my own—and in the end, it made more problems for everyone, including you.”
Sakura shook her head. “You didn’t create any problems—but I’m glad you finally did see Dr. Li.”
He nodded and told her solemnly, “I won’t make such a mistake again. I’ll promise you, no yokai, dark force or spirit will ever get hold of me.”
“That Inugami yokai never did get a proper hold of you in the first place,” said Sakura. “Besides, it was only a prank by Kai-kun, and you probably let down your guard because you trusted him.”
“Prank or not, it should have not been able to possess by body in the first place,” replied Syaoran.
“It never did take control of your mind, though, and I have no doubt that once you do catch up on your sleep, something like it wouldn’t be able to recur,” said Sakura. “Did you get treatment?”
“Jingmei brewed me some herbal tea that’s supposed to help me relax and put me to sleep at night,” replied Syaoran. “It tastes horrible.
“That’s good,” said Sakura. “I mean, not that you are sleep deprived, or that the tea tastes bad, but that you’re getting treatment. It’s kind of like the opposite for me. When I gain new powers, I get really sleepy and fall asleep everywhere.”
And Syaoran chuckled. “Yeah, you did that.”
Sakura’s cheeks flushed, suddenly recalling how often she had collapsed into his arms and fallen asleep after she had newly awakened her power of the stars. “I’m sorry, I created a big hassle for you back in elementary school.”
Syaoran blinked. “I never thought of you as a hassle. You were handling the huge burden of transforming Clow Cards into the power of stars while sustaining Cerberus and Yue, and you were just a mere kid then.”
Clenching her fingers into a ball, she said, “Well, this time, since you are having difficulty adjusting to your new powers, I’ll be here for you!”
Syaoran tilted his head, suddenly recalling Kai’s words at his apartment. “You know, now that you say it, I don’t have trouble sleeping when you are around. Maybe…” He trailed off.
“Maybe?” she asked.
“Maybe you can become my talisman. Or better yet, my pillow.”
“Hoe?”
“Just kidding. Maybe your star power counterbalances my power of the moon,” he said pensively.
“It that’s the case, then I will become your pillow!” exclaimed Sakura. “Call me when you have to fall asleep, and I’ll come right over.”
He turned around on his swing and reached out his hand. She blushed when he patted her on the head, like she was a pet puppy. “I don’t know what your brother would have to say about that.”
At this, Sakura’s cheeks flushed, realizing how her words may have come across to him. Wasn’t this enough of a confession? Did she have to say more?
“So, how did telling your father and brother about modeling go?” he asked her.
“As well as I could hope. I don’t think onii-chan completely approves yet, but he’s coming around,” said Sakura. “Though Arima-san thinks I made a terrible career choice rejecting signing with a top modeling agency—and in a way I guess she is right. She must be terribly busy with her acting classes, but she called me the other day from New York despite our time difference and gave me a lot of good advice.”
“Do you regret rejecting the agency?” asked Syaoran.
“No, not at all,” said Sakura. “It’s not because I’m not serious about
modeling—I am. I filmed my first commercial yesterday, and it was a lot of fun,
and I learned a lot. I like meeting new people, and I like seeing how
everything is edited, how the final product comes together, and the creative
process that goes into each photo shoot, runway, advertisement—it’s
fascinating. More so because I grew up with Tomoyo-chan as my best friend, I
suppose.”
“So, you’ve found something you are interested in—whether it be modeling or the creative process behind it,” remarked Syaoran.
Sakura nodded. “You’re right. It is something I enjoy. Aunt Sonomi sometimes let me help out behind the scenes with the Daidouji Toy Company, and I posed with the new products for their catalogues since elementary school, though the first time I ever had a real photo shoot was with you in New York. It was surreal seeing the Valentine’s Day ad campaign in a magazine. Since then, I’ve always been interested in not only modeling but the thought that goes behind each product, item, or article of clothing I am promoting.”
“I’ve always admired that about you—what ever you face, you do it all very wholeheartedly,” remarked Syaoran. “And you have the born ability to guide and mobilize others too.”
Sakura flushed at Syaoran at the rare compliment. “And you. What would you like to do?”
“Me?” He perturbed. “I don’t know. All my life, I trained to be the Chosen One—I never thought of any other path.” Syaoran paused. That was until last year, when he thought he had lost all his powers permanently and had realized how good for nothing he actually was.
“Surely you played make-belief when you were younger, or had something you wanted to be,” remarked Sakura.
Syaoran replied, “I did always enjoy archeology—the idea of studying people, history, what came before us and the why, through tangible evidence, artifacts, scrolls, paintings. Perhaps that’s related to being the Chosen One as well, because analyzing ancient scrolls was a basic part of my training. It could have been dry and boring, but for me, the idea of uncovering a secret, the unknown, relics of the past, kept me motivated.”
At this, Sakura chuckled. “That is very much like you.”
“That special lecture your father gave us in elementary school was so inspiring, I still remember it vividly, his descriptions of the building of the Pyramid of Khufu, better known as Great Pyramid of Giza. It’s amazing that it’s the only Seven Wonders of the Ancient World that remains, though it’s the oldest, and it also makes you despair thinking that you will never get to see the other wonders.” Syaoran broke off, as if embarrassed.
Sakura asked in awe, “You remember what his lecture was about? I remember he came—and that’s about it. Well, you and Father hit it off from the beginning, and he really enjoyed having you as an assistant while you stayed over. I think he’s slightly disappointed that my brother and I weren’t more interested in his works. I mean, it’s fascinating, but I don’t think I have passion about it like he does.”
“Really? I think I envied you because Kinomoto-sensei was your father and you could hear his theories anytime,” said Syaoran. “I always wanted to study under your father, someday.”
“You can study under him, you know,” said Sakura.
But the two fell silent, because they both were aware of the unlikelihood of that possibility, even in the case where there was a world where the dark forces were all sealed and the Dark Ones defeated.
She remarked, “You know, part of the reason my mother became a model was because she wanted to let my father pursue his dreams. He was a teacher in her high school—as you remember. But because my mother’s career took off as a model, she was able to support the family, and my father was able to return to school and get his doctorate degree and then earn his associate professorship.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Syaoran.
“I worked with a photographer recently who knew my mother,” said Sakura. “He said something that struck me. The photographer remarked that the reason my mother was such a charismatic model, who stood out among her peers, was her eyes—she was always smiling. Yet, he said, she had sad eyes, mesmerizing eyes that seemed to know all the secrets of the world. It was true. Mother had the second sight, and she knew she was going to die early.”
Syaoran glanced over at Sakura. “I don’t know about that photographer, but in all the photos I’ve seen of your mother, she looked happy.”
“I think you can be happy in the present moment and simultaneously sad and scared of losing it all. But I am not like my mother. I’m not constantly planning for the future, and can only live day by day,” said Sakura. “Truthfully, there was a time when I thought there was no use thinking about the future at all, because there is no certainty that I would be able to defeat the Dark Ones and survive. When I came back from dead last year, I was scared of knowing and not knowing the future. But since the Alliance of Stars was formed, I realized just how much is at stake and that I had to be strong for everyone’s sake, that there is no room for cowardice. Yet, perhaps it’s my naiveté, perhaps I’m not doing enough as Card Mistress. But I still can’t think of the future, because I want things to stay exactly as they are now. I don’t want things to change. You may think me foolish for this.”
“No, I do get where you’re coming from,” said Syaoran. “I may be the same as you.” He was someone who had always planned ahead—yet come to realize the futility of it all. Back when he had first met Sakura, he had thought her foolish, for not seeming to comprehend the gravity of the task at hand, her role as the appointed Card Captor, the weight of the history behind the Clow Cards. Yet, he realized she had coped as best as she could to the situation. She had once told him, “Who said you can’t complete your duty and pursue your dreams as well?”
“Actually, the reason I choose to model is not for fame, wealth, or even for my mother,” Sakura continued. “It’s much more selfish than that. My greatest destruction would be forgetting my most loved ones. And in turn, I am afraid of being forgotten.”
“Who would ever forget you?” asked Syaoran softly.
Sakura smiled wistfully. You, of course. The haughty older Li Shulin she had met in the Cavern of Reservoirs had said on her feelings for Amamiya Hayashi, “Did I ever love him, I wonder now?” Shulin had called the love that had launched the downfall of the Great Five, the rise of the Dark Ones, and the eternal curse on their bloodlines “a childish infatuation.”
When she had heard those words, Sakura felt like raging, furious, before coming to a somber realization, that someday, the Li Syaoran she knew now might also be changed, might have moved on. He might recollect her once in a while, if at all, once he had settled into his position as Great Elder of the Li Clan of Hong Kong. Her greatest fear was to lose the memory of her loved one, and she had just done that. She had forgotten Li Syaoran. Yet, even though her mind had erased him, her heart had continued to ache, aware of his existence. When her memories returned, that rainy day she stormed up to Eitoukou Academy and told him that he was the only person in the world she despised, she realized the one she despised the most was in fact herself, for still loving him though she had believed him to have betrayed her, abandoned her. Hence she chose to trap herself inside the Fantasy as the ultimate escape. And he had come for her, even at the cost of forgetting his own name, abandoning himself. That was when she had understood there was no going back to a point before she loved Syaoran—he was engrained in her, as an indelible part of her existence. A world without Li Syaoran was unimaginable, because when he was gone from her life, the Kinomoto Sakura right now would be fractured, incomplete. If she had to, she could now tell him clearly that this was not a simple infatuation, nor silly childhood memories, nor a feeling that would fade with time that she could ever forget, overcome, or move on from.
“Syaoran, I won’t ever forget you again,” Sakura said softly, more to herself than to him.
Syaoran asked bemusedly, “Are you still guilt-tripping yourself over that incident? What’s important is that you remembered me, not that you forgot me.”
The words that Syaoran told her last fall resonated with her. He had told her, after she had regained her memories, “I was almost relieved that you were furious at me.” To be hated was preferable to be forgotten. She had taken the most cowardly option, to forget him, to save herself, and in doing so, she had not only betrayed him, but herself. Sakura said, “I don’t think I’ve ever properly explained why I did forget you.”
“It was the influence of the dark forces—Memory and Despair—not very complicated. Don’t kick yourself over it,” replied Syaoran.
Sakura shook her head. “I deliberately chose to forget you. Because, I thought if I forgot you, I could be happy. Yet, I wasn’t any happier. I was miserable. The reason I chose to forget you—”
Syaoran murmured, “I had abandoned you to face the Dark Ones alone. You came for me, but I turned you away. I stole the Sakura Cards from you. I had betrayed you. And also, you learned of what had caused Chang Risa-sama to kill herself, and being you, you couldn’t come to terms with Amamiya Hayashi-sama and Li Shulin’s role in that matter.”
“How did you know that?” asked Sakura.
“That winter when I was living with you, you had nightmares about what happened by the cliff side where Risa-sama jumped off of, and Tomoyo told me that they began since that summer at last year’s cultural festival, when you lost your memories,” he replied. “I put two and two together. Don’t you think it was odd that you got that vision when Kara was reading your Tarot fortune? She intended to shock you. She planted that vision in you, made you vulnerable to the Emotions, and the Memory was able to take advantage of your fragile state of mind then. It was a setup.”
Sakura glanced up at Syaoran. “Kara-senpai told you that?”
“I don’t know. I might have asked her. Kara’s very forthcoming in that aspect,” said Syaoran.
“I never realized you were that close with Kara Reed,” remarked Sakura rather stiffly.
“It’s not like I could be picky with conversational partners, back when all of my actual friends thought me a traitor,” remarked Syaoran. “Besides, I had to screen what the potential Reed candidate for the Alliance of the Stars was like. She’s not grounded, and doesn’t have much of a moral compass, but then again, neither does Kai. Her heart is often in the right place, I would like to believe, for she was the one who chose to risk her own life to save Leiyun when no one else would venture into the Cavern of Reservoirs.”
“You were thinking of the Alliance amid everything you were going through?” asked Sakura.
“Of course,” said Syaoran. “The Alliance is always the top priority.
“I thought the Li Clan was your top priority,” remarked Sakura in spite of herself.
Syaoran blinked. “The Li Clan is my duty, my birthright, and now as Great Elder, my greatest responsibility. But the Star Alliance is how we are going to defeat the Dark Ones, and it’s the only path to a future for any of us.”
Sakura said slowly, “And because I am at the center of the Alliance, am I also a priority?”
Syaoran replied, “That goes without saying. You are the pillar of the Alliance of the Stars, and therefore all of our top priority.”
“I see,” said Sakura, swaying back and forth on the swings again. Eron had once called Syaoran ambitious. He had guessed correctly Syaoran aspired to become the Great Elder. Perhaps, Eron had also been right about Syaoran’s priorities having changed. Syaoran’s priority was to protect the Li Clan, as the Great Elder, and the best way to do so was the defeat the Dark Ones. Hence, he supported the Alliance, and, inadvertently, also her. She was strategically important to the Clan, and therefore to Syaoran, but it appeared she had mistaken that for something more, that coveted spot in his heart.
“Now, can I ask you a question?” asked Syaoran. “What did you see while you were in the Cavern of Reservoirs? First, I thought it might have been meeting Chang Ryouta. But that doesn’t seem to be it, because you told Eron what had happened, and yet, you still get that look in your eyes whenever you see me. Which makes me believe, did it have something to do with me?”
Sakura had almost forgotten how intuitive Syaoran could be, and how persistent. She could share everything with Syaoran, she truly believed so, but the one thing she could not say was that she had met his father’s final moments, in the Dragon Isles, when it should have been him. “Do you have someone you love, Sakura?” Li Ryuuren had asked her, looking up at her with those keen sapphire blue eyes, as his hand was clasped over a bleeding gash in his stomach. “Then no matter what, don’t let that person go.”
“We used to be able to speak mind-to-mind. The reason that I cannot hear you mind-to-mind anymore, even though my powers have returned, is it because of something that happened in there that you do not want me to know?” asked Syaoran. “Back when we were trapped inside the hourglass, during the play, I reached out to you speaking through our minds, and I knew you heard me. But I felt a barrier when I tried to reach you.”
“I’m not sure what you are talking about,” mumbled Sakura.
Syaoran continued, “In that final scene of the play, you were crying—who were you crying for?”
“I thought you were sleeping,” said Sakura. “I was just acting out my part.”
“I was sleeping, but I could sense you crying,” said Syaoran. “It felt like you were mourning for someone—your grief was overwhelming, and I could feel it. There, you have that expression again, you look like you are on the verge of tears.”
“I was just imagining what Fuutie-san might have felt like losing Wu Zino,” replied Sakura.
He gave her an odd look and said, “All right. This would be the last time I will ask you of what happened in the Dragon Isles—I guess it is natural that there are things you cannot share.”
If she told him, then what? Then Syaoran too would feel reproachful of her for not trying to bring him to his father—he was just a little distance away—why hadn’t she been able to find Syaoran and bring him to Li Ryuuren? He had so wanted to see his son. She was not even able to grant him his final wish, for she had not been her mother. Nothing—she could do absolutely nothing for Li Ryuuren. Save the journal, she had been able to see the journal brought back to this world through Chang Ryouta, but that too had been burned, and not all too useful. Chang Ryouta had killed Ryuuren—could she have stopped him somehow? And she had even received help from that despicable man, to save the Dragon’s Eye—and somehow, she felt she had tainted it.
She recalled how Chang Ryouta, back in the Dragon Isles, had laughed at her. “Ryuuren, foolish Ryuuren, should have killed me years ago when he had a chance. But he didn’t. Because he listened to the stupid woman. Nadeshiko told him, ‘Spare Ryouta. What harm can he do now?’ And he listened to her. That was his demise.” The white scar on her palm throbbed, though the cut had healed months ago. She had failed Ryuuren, and Syaoran, in every way. How could she admit all this to Syaoran?
Syaoran remarked, “You know, I kind of hoped I would be able to meet my father during the Trial of the Great Elder—I met a great many of my ancestors including Shulin-sama. But my father wasn’t a former Great Elder, so I didn’t get to see him, I suppose. And it got me thinking—I do wonder how my father’s journal made it back to our world in the first place. I know he died during a mission in the Dragon Isles, and he carried his journal with him everywhere. It’s one of the odd things I thought while I was trapped in Limbo for what did seem like eternity, though it might have only been several milliseconds of time in our real world. The other realization I had was that I didn’t like Shulin-sama much at all. I mean, I respect her as one of the Original Five and our Great Elder, as well as the Savior who led the Li Clan from persecution in Shanghai to a new frontier in Hong Kong. But as a person, I doubt I would have gotten along with her if we were of the same generation.”
Without much thought, Sakura found herself nodding in agreement. And then she caught herself. “I meant no disrespect! I mean, the Shulin-sama I met was undergoing the Trial of the Great Elder herself, so I’m sure she matured with age over the years.”
“You found her frivolous and flippant too?” asked Syaoran, perhaps still bitter over being referred to as an “acquaintance” by her.
“No! I mean, I was initially annoyed that she was dismissive of her emotions for Amamiya Hayashi-sama, recalling it as childish infatuation. Logically, I knew that she had already married Lord Landon Reed and given birth to Clow Reed—but what does that make of the sacrifice that Chang Risa made?” Sakura broke off, recalling Shulin’s careless shrug as she said, “We’ve all moved on since then,” as she referred to the Great Five, dismissing the significance of her closest friends and also the bond which would define generations of magicians to follow after.
“But then, I thought about it, and I realized that was Shulin-sama’s way of coping with her grief,” Sakura continued. “Because Risa-sama committed suicide, and her guilt for indirectly resulting in her death, Shulin-sama couldn’t do anything about her love for Hayashi. How pitiful was that? And all that time later, she said she was never sure if Hayashi-sama had loved her as well. The truth is, I don’t know either. I don’t know anything about Hayashi-sama—he eventually remarried a daughter of a samurai family and had my direct ancestor—but that’s all I know. And then, I sort of despised Hayashi-sama—if he had just reassured Risa-sama that he loved her, then all this mess could have been prevented.”
Syaoran sighed. “But what if he didn’t love Risa-sama? He probably knew the birth of the Dark Ones was inevitable, yet still married her. It could have been infidelity, or it could have been Shulin-sama who liked him one-sided and meddled in their marriage.”
“Eron told me once he doesn’t believe in unconditional love, that love is finite,” said Sakura.
“Do you believe so as well?”
“I’m not sure.” Sakura shut her eyes, still. “I think it is possible that Hayashi-sama loved Shulin-sama once, and perhaps Risa-sama as well. Or perhaps, he had loved neither and eventually loved the wife who bore him his descendants. When I think of Fuutie-nee-san, I truly wish she is able to find love again. She’s too young to have to spend the rest of her life alone, in grief. But she was truly loved by Wu Zino, and in that sense, I can’t help thinking it is a blessing that she was able to love her fullest while she could. When I see what unconditional, unrequited love can do to someone like the Madoushi, Tang Suyung, who could not move beyond her love for Clow Reed, I think it can’t be all too healthy.”
“And then there’s the monstrous sort of love like the one Clow Reed bore for Mizuki Mika,” remarked Syaoran. “Where he turned himself into an aberration of humankind in order to try to bring his love back.”
“But I can understand his heart,” murmured Sakura. “Because, I too believe in eternal love.” Just like she had no doubt Li Ryuuren had died loving Amamiya Nadeshiko—a love that rang true and clear at the final moment of his life.
“Of course you would understand,” grumbled Syaoran. “You and your darned sympathetic heart.”
“Eron told me that there is a difference between your most important person and the person you love the most,” said Sakura, looking up at the night sky. “That got me thinking. I always thought, as Tomoyo said, that it is enough to watch my most important person, if that person is happy. But in reality, that’s not enough. I’m just not as compassionate and giving as Tomoyo-chan. I’m a lot more selfish and greedy than I thought I was.”
“And what else did Eron say?” asked Syaoran.
Because she was facing forward, she did not notice the dangerous glint in his eyes, nor the flat tone of his voice. “It made me think about Chang Ryouta,” she said, stroking the white scar across her left palm, the fading remnant of her encounter with the man who had killed Li Ryuuren. “He was terribly afraid of being left behind, of being left behind by Reiji-san and Eri-san. That’s why he tried to ruin their relationship. And ultimately failed. I thought him a coward for abandoning Eron and Erika at the orphanage after Reiji-san died.”
Syaoran frowned. “Rightfully so—Chang Ryouta was a coward and murderer who betrayed his own brother.”
Sakura was swinging back and forth, hands clasping the chain. “But to him, maybe they were a reminder of his sin. I’d always felt sorry for Erika and Eron because they too are in sense have been making the best of the cards that life dealt them, but Eron seems to have seen right through me, as always. Eron told me that he did not mind growing up without parents, that he was never alone because he always had Erika, that they were in fact very blessed. I realized how foolish I had been—he saw through my pretense, and I think I might have hurt him more by trying to protect him.”
“Why are you so hung up over Chang Eron all the time? Have you forgotten that he was the guy who broke up with you? Who in fact happens to be the Dark One and also is a pathological liar.”
Sakura was unsettled by the unusual outburst from Syaoran. And they were brought back to their conversation two weeks ago, in Syaoran’s bedroom. “Because, the reason he broke up with me is because he knew that I actually… That I actually was in lo—” She stopped short, realizing what she had almost confessed. “That I actually never in a hundred years could grow to love him. He said he could not wait, that he would set me free, and all I felt was relief that I did not have to be the bad person who broke my words to him, relief that he said he would remain by my side, as a part of the Alliance. Aren’t I a horrible person?”
And suddenly, Syaoran stood up from his swing set. He reached over and grabbed the creaking chain with one hand, bringing Sakura to a halt. She looked at him in surprise. His face was hidden by the shadow cast by the bars of the swing set. “Syaoran.”
He bent over so that his head was directly over hers, silhouetted by the lamplight behind him, casting a shadow over her. In a low voice, he said, “Stop talking about Chang Eron. I don’t want to hear his name anymore today.”
Was Syaoran actually being jealous? There was a strange look in his eyes, but it could have been the glint of the moonlight. And her heart skipped a beat as his head was suddenly leaned toward hers. There was a split second where she wondered if he would. He closed in on the final inch, and his lips touched her lips. She nearly toppled over backwards.
Thankfully, his grip on the swing set was quite tight. She could nearly have convinced herself that this was a fluke or her imagination. But rather than a brush against her lips, he shifted his head and came back in for another kiss. And she was sure that the warmth of his lips and the softness of his breath could not be a dream or imagination. The chains creaked under her clenched fists.
She might have let out a little whimper in protest or pushed him back, or maybe she was just out of breath. And he abruptly released the chain. This time, she nearly would have fell back over on the seat, but she balanced herself by gripping onto the swing set with both hands, so hard that she would have rusty imprints of the chain on her palms for hours afterward. She couldn’t even look up at him and instead stared at the sand pit, glistening like a silvery dune in the moonlight.
As if a lid she had tightly sealed had sprung open, a million thoughts ran through her head in that moment of silence. Was this a confession? Or was this another one of his impulsive moves that was isolated to just this particular moment? What did this mean for them? Had something significant taken place? Or do they just go on, as if nothing had happened? What about her feelings? Did he know how she felt about him? Could she tell him? Was she supposed to tell him? Was this the golden timing that everybody had been telling her about?
She stared up at him, cheeks flushed a deep coral, and to her discomfort found he had been staring down at her, his profile lit by the moon, lids lowered so that his expression was inscrutable. There was no wind but she swayed ever so slightly on the swings. Taking in a deep breath, she exhaled again, suppressing her pulse fluttering rapidly like the moths caught in the lamplight. She opened her mouth, then closed it.
He was still watching her, but that impetuous fire in his eyes had dimmed, and his lips curled into a thin half-smile smile that could mean everything and nothing. “I’m leaving for Hong Kong tomorrow.”
Hong Kong? He hadn’t made any mention before. Of course, it was to be expected that he would return home during summer vacation, but she hadn’t realized he’d leave right away.
“Well then, see you next semester, Sakura.”
Distracted, Sakura, still sitting on the swing, watched him give a slight wave that could mean goodbye or a mere dismissal that he might be accustomed to after being waited on hand and foot in Hong Kong. And he walked away, without looking back. Sakura dropped out of the swing set, onto her knees, palms in the sand, aghast. Was that all he had to say to her? Not tomorrow. Not next week. But next semester? Next school semester? It was only July! She recalled vaguely Meilin saying that Syaoran had to go back home over summer break, as was customary. But she hadn’t realized that would mean he would be gone for the whole summer! Was that a good-bye kiss? Or a good-bye and see you later kiss? Had he even kissed her, or maybe she was delirious and hallucinating under the full moon.
******
When in in a state of utter mortification and panic, there was only one person to seek.
“Tomoyo-chan!” wailed Sakura as she burst into a Versailles-style bedroom done in roses and cream, and plopped down onto a fluffy ivory-colored rug, glad that her best friend was such a night owl, though apologetic for intruding at such an hour.
“What’s wrong, Sakura-chan?” asked a calm Tomoyo, embroidering silver stars on a deep indigo dress. “You look a bit flushed.”
“Everything’s wrong,” Sakura said, burying her head in her knees, crouched on the floor.
Tomoyo, setting down her fabrics, leaned up toward her, blinking her wide violet eyes rapidly. “So, did you do it?”
With a groan, Sakura replied, “No! Maybe. I don’t know!”
“Oh, Sakura-chan, you’re finally here. I thought I might not be able to see you before I leave,” said Meilin, coming out of Tomoyo’s resource room with a DVD in hand. “Thanks, I found the clip Feimei asked for.”
“What time’s your flight tomorrow, Meilin?” asked Tomoyo. “Don’t you have to pack?”
“In the morning—luckily there’s not much to pack since I’m returning home,” replied Meilin.
“You’re leaving for Hong Kong early with Syaoran, after all?” asked Tomoyo.
“Yeah, I mean, we finished exams and Mizuki-sensei both gave us clearance,” said Meilin. “Missing a few days of school at the end of the semester won’t matter, though I did want to go on the pool trip with you guys.”
“Kai-kun must be bummed that you’re leaving for the summer,” said Tomoyo.
Meilin shrugged. “I don’t know. I think some time apart might be good for us. We’ve been fighting a lot recently. It must be that one year mark that my older cousins have warned me about.”
“You’ve been dating Kai-kun for a year already?” exclaimed Sakura.
“I guess, technically,” said Meilin. “It’s not like he ever asked me out properly.”
Sakura said, “That’s right, right? People don’t exactly ask each other out anymore, and you find you just are dating one day, right? Like Chiharu-chan and Yamazaki-kun.”
“But Kai-kun’s been after you since junior high, Meilin,” remarked Tomoyo. “You must have had a change of heart at one point. Wasn’t there a special occasion when that happened?”
Meilin wrinkled her nose. “Maybe it was when he went into that operation room to get the bullet removed, and there was the risk of a blood donor not turning up on time, and I thought for a split second I might actually lose him forever. Then, he gave me an ultimatum at the airport, and I chose to return to Japan with him last summer, and participated in that silly Best Couple Contest too. I just got pulled into his pace—he’s actually not even my type!”
“Right, I was surprised when you returned to Japan without Syaoran last year,” remarked Tomoyo. “That was quite a shocking move.”
Meilin shrugged. “Syaoran back then in Hong Kong was not himself. We barely saw each other, and I was no use to him there, anyway. You don’t know how glad I am he’s back to his normal self.”
“Poor Syaoran-kun—he’s going to be busy when he gets back to Hong Kong,” remarked Tomoyo with a sigh.
“Well, it won’t be as bad as it was over spring break,” said Meilin. “The Elders are still testing him to see what they can get away with, so this time, he’ll be focused more on solidifying his leadership. Sakura-chan, have you had a chance to say goodbye to Syaoran?”
“Huh?” Sakura jerked her head up. It just struck her. Summer break. That meant she would not find an answer to the well of questions she had for him until next semester. If then at all. And most importantly, she had not been able to confess her true feelings.
“I thought he went out to meet with you earlier—Syaoran had the gall to cut off Uncle Wutai in the middle of one of his long tirades during their video conference —the Head’s going to give Syaoran an earful when he returns, I’m sure,” said Meilin. “Well, if anything happens here, do call us immediately. Hong Kong’s not that far away—in case of an emergency, we can get here within half a day. Do you have Syaoran’s Hong Kong cellphone number?”
“He has a different number in Hong Kong?” asked Sakura.
“Yeah, I mean, he would usually carry around both his Japanese phone and Hong Kong phone, but you know he is technology-challenged and prone to let the battery die if he’s not using it. The Li Council gets in touch with him through his Hong Kong number, so he’ll have that phone on hand always.”
“I can always email him,” Sakura said weakly.
“You do have his primary email address, right?” asked Meilin. “The LiGroup.com one?”
“No,” mumbled Sakura.
“And his office address—you do know if you send any mail to his home address, all his sisters will open it up and read it out loud to each other then seal it up as if it hadn’t been tampered with,” Meilin said.
Sakura swallowed hard at the belated warning. “I’ll get in touch with you if any emergency situation comes up.”
Meilin whispered to Tomoyo, “Sakura’s been acting weird all night. Get down to the bottom of it and give me a call.”
Tomoyo nodded. “Have a good vacation, Meilin-chan!”
Meilin turned to Sakura. “Do you have any message you want me to convey to Syaoran?”
“No!” Sakura exclaimed and buried her head under a pillow. “I’ll never be able to face him again!”
Meilin and Tomoyo turned to each other and shrugged.
******************************************
Wish-chan: November 21, 2017
This chapter is in loving memory of a reader of New Trials, Kelly Wallace.
Undoubtedly the best part of writing New Trials has been connecting with all of you, the readers. Over the years, readers of the story have contacted me and shared a bit of their lives as well, of joy, of little episodes at school, of marriages, life events, of loss. A little of bit of you has become a little bit of me and consequently a part of the building of the New Trials universe. One reader reached out to me at the end of last year and shared the story of the loss of her sister, and it will be one of those letters that I would never forget.
Kelly’s sister, Katie, wrote me an email on December 29, 2016. Katie said that she and her sister have been reading New Trials since the beginning. When her sister fell sick a few years ago, Katie said that she read out chapters to her, but that Kelly died shortly after Chapter 71: The Alliance of the Stars came out—which would have been 2015. Katie wrote to me: “Please continue your story for her at least her name was Kelly Wallace, I wanted you to know you have fans who are cheering for you! And will continue to do so even when they cannot do so for themselves but through those who loved them.”
I spent a good half an hour in tears immediately after reading the mail, and I also wondered, had I ever communicated with Kelly before as well, in the past. Because of the Hotmail crash in the early 2000s, I’ve lost my emails from prior to that point—and also New Trials, along with the passage of time and changing technology has seen communication over not only my personal email accounts, but fanfiction,net, the Yahoo Group, a forum, the old Geocities website guestbook (remember those), blog, and more recently and prominently Facebook. So many readers (through different user names) have shared their stories with me, fragments of themselves, and for me, New Trials also has been a place to bare my soul as well. Some of you, if we lived in the same place, would be great friends and kindred spirits, and many of you I consider friends though we are not in the same place and have never met in person. And in this sense, I will ask a moment of remembrance for Kelly from all of you as well.
After reading Katie’s email, I got to working on finishing the next chapter, meanwhile having a solemn sense of duty, regret for having disappointed Kelly, but also determination to keep Katie’s request. When I started writing New Trials, I used to say that so long as I had one reader, I would keep on writing. Some 18 years later, this humble fanfiction has transcended that because of the support of the community of readers that New Trials has gathered—out of our shared love a manga and anime called Card Captor Sakura. All this weighs heavily on me, because as you all know, New Trials is wrapping up soon, though maybe not so soon judged by how long each chapter is.
The past two chapters was the last chance to write a fluffy chapter, before the big storm. But oddly enough, this was a chapter that deals with loss and overcoming loss, and at times was a bit heavier than I intended. Transitioning between 2016 and 2017, I was struck by the sense of how far I have come, and how far I still have to go to that final point. I still have so many stories to tell, and I wonder, will I have time to write them all. While I also give excuses on why it took so long to write this chapter, I have to admit, this was probably the easiest chapter and most difficult chapter to write in Arc 4 thus far. Chapter 72 and 73 were initially one chapter, but in essence, I couldn’t just write fluff and had to move the plot forward to the final arc of New Trials.
Would it be facetious to say that the whole point of the last two chapters was for that swing scene? The first scene I wrote for Chapter 72 and 73 is the last playground scene—I rather consider it Sakura and Syaoran’s first real kiss, and I’m glad I finally got to write it. My other favorite part of the chapter was being able to finally write out Naoko’s subplot, because she’s gotten shafted compared to her other friends, both in the manga and even in New Trials. I was afraid that I might not be able to include her storyline before the end, but somehow, it worked out organically, and I’m actually really appreciating her a whole lot more. (Chiharu has always been my favorite out the trio of friends, though Amethyst Beloved might have had an influence in that).
Also, Beauty and the Beast is my favorite Disney animated film, though probably not my favorite fairytale. I already took a shot at it through my one-shot fanfic Beauy and the Wolf written in 2000 for Syaoran’s birthday and one scene is a direct shout out to that fanfic!
I have also come to accept that the reason why this chapter took so long was because I too am a bit reluctant to acknowledge that New Trials is coming to an end. The final saga is coming, so please hang in there a little big longer! And we do have the CCS Clear Card Arc anime to look forward to in 2018. Seems like CLAMP can’t get enough of Card Captor Sakura either—I don’t know who’s worse—me working on this story continuously since 1999, or CLAMP for starting CCS in 1996-2000, Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle aka torture Sakura and Syaoran in every possible way from 2003-2009, torture a little bit more in Tsubasa World Chronicle: Nirai Kanai-hen from 2014-2016, and do some healing through the Card Captor Sakura: Clear Card Arc from 2016 to present. I hand the award (and my utmost gratitude for keeping the franchise alive) to CLAMP! I will admit that I was lucky in the fandom that I chose to write for—I believe that New Trials remaining popular in 2017 is a testament to the popularity of the entire CCS franchise. Over 20 years later, I still don’t believe there is a better mahou shoujo manga/anime than CCS.
I do have a lot friends who casually enjoy anime and manga (most Koreans grow up reading manga and watching anime), but I don’t have anybody who shares my love for CCS (to my knowledge). I’ve told one friend—who’s not an anime fan in the first place--in college that I wrote fanfiction, just because I wanted to confess it to someone. But for me, the CCS and New Trials fandom is a very precious, dare I say holy domain, a sanctuary for me through by tweens to adulthood.
Emails will always be cherished at hopeluvpeace@hotmail.com, the email address I have used since the very beginning. It usually has been a random email that gave me the final push to finish up a chapter, all these years.
Though Facebook is convenient and I love all the comments and artworks shared, the Yahoo New Trials Ring at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/newtrialsring, always holds a special spot in my heart, and is still the best place for in-depth discussion. If you haven’t already, please join the awesome CCS community at Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/groups/2230239543/?ref=bookmarks
I put up the latest New Trials updates and other related news at http://wishluv.blogspot.com and you can check out my newest artwork at http://wishluv.deviantart.com. There is a whole lot of artwork I hope to be able to complete now—believe it or not I banned myself from drawing during the past half year until I finished Chapter 73—and I love drawing, also a good treatment for a writer’s block. I can’t wait to get back to drawing again! No worries, Chapter 73.5 is around halfway done, anyway. Actually, I’ve mentioned I’ve written ahead and wrote out the New Trials ending too, so technically I’m writing backwards again.