Chapter 53: Yesterday’s Letter

Syaoran… Syaoran, can you hear me? Syaoran, I keep repeating your name when I lie awake in the middle of the night, thinking that maybe you will answer, maybe you can hear me, where ever you are.

Syaoran… Do you hear my voice? I am shouting your name in my mind, hoping that you will answer. Syaoran, I want to see you just one more time…

Just one last time.

So answer me, Syaoran…

******

It had been a week since Syaoran had gone missing. At first, Sakura had thought that maybe he had taken off on some trip to clear his head, or that he had fallen ill—or maybe he was just at home, avoiding her. Yet, it did not occur to her, not once, that he might be gone for good. The town was still recuperating from the shock of the plague epidemic, the most sudden and devastating spread of disease in a generation. It was the first time so many people had fallen ill simultaneously. It was also the first time she had feared for people’s lives. There were days that Sakura would take out the deck of Sakura Cards from her desk drawer and stare at the ugly rodent sprawled on the face of the newest Sakura Card, the dark force that had cost her so much to seal. Maybe too much. Only afterwards did Sakura come to realize how she had brushed nearer to death than she had ever before. Not when she was battling against any dark force, not when she almost fell of a cliff during the camping trip, not when she fell into an ice pond, not when she was fighting against the Phantom did she ever conceive that she was putting her life on the line. Maybe until now, she had not realized the consequences of being the Card Mistress, one of the greatest magicians of the new generation. That was why she was ready to cast away the title now. During this last battle, she had become aware of so many of her deficiencies as Card Mistress. Some how the days passed by since Subaru’s funeral—she thought she wouldn’t be able to go on, but time passed, and she was back to her normal cycle. That was minus her duties as Card Mistress—she had locked away the Sakura Cards in her desk drawer at home. Her body had long since recovered—she was on the whole a healthy girl and there were no physical remnants of her battle against the Plague, except the uneven skin on her palms from where the diamond stone had burnt her. The true scars were deeper, in places that could not be seen.

“It’s weird,” Chiharu remarked to Tomoyo, looking back at Syaoran’s empty seat. “Li-kun never misses this many days of school. Is he ill?”

Tomoyo shook her head to indicated that she didn’t know as she gazed at Sakura. Sakura might have seemed fine to most of her friends, but she could never hide her true state from her best friend. But Tomoyo felt it in the past days, that Sakura was physically there in the classroom, but her mind was elsewhere. For the first time since Tomoyo had learned of Sakura’s special abilities, she had entertained the possibility that she might truly lose Sakura. In a sense, she felt guilty because up till now, capturing the Clow Cards, battling against the Dark Ones had almost seemed like a game to her; but first with the Phantom and then with the Plague, Tomoyo was beginning to realize this was no child’s play. This was a matter of life and death, sanity and insanity. It had cost Syaoran all his powers and Sakura her laughter. It had been over a month since the battle against the Plague, and not once since then had Tomoyo heard Sakura laugh. And Tomoyo was disturbed to find that no one else noticed—maybe because there was so little humor or joy in anything these days. If Syaoran was here, he would notice. He would also notice that the black uniform blazer and blouse hung looser on Sakura’s frame, and she let her hair hang loosely around her face these days, instead of pulling it back into a pretty clip or ribbon as she usually did. It was as if to hide that her face had lost the joy and innocence in it behind her hair. But Syaoran wasn’t here. Sakura didn’t even realize that Tomoyo was watching her. Instead, she stared at her desk without any change of expression even when the classroom door was yanked open, and Naoko ran into the classroom, out of breath.

“Did you guys hear?” Naoko exclaimed. “Li Syaoran has left Japan!” The words echoed hollowly in Sakura’s ears.

It was Chiharu who recovered first and exclaimed. “No way—we have less than a month until graduation!”

“I heard clearly in the staffroom that Li-kun’s transferred back to Hong Kong!” Naoko stated, panting.

The girls turned to look at Sakura, as if they expected her to know the story behind Syaoran’s abrupt departure. They were stunned to see the blank look on Sakura’s face. Sakura, who had barely recovered from the Plague, thought that nothing could faze her anymore. And it had not yet sunk into her that Syaoran had truly left—that he had just disappeared without a word.

“There must have been some family emergency or some urgent call,” Tomoyo said, resting a gentle on Sakura’s shoulder. Her friend was trembling, and Tomoyo glanced at Eriol, troubled. By the look in Eriol’s eyes, she realized that Eriol was as concerned as she was about this unexpected news. Why—Tomoyo glanced back at Syaoran’s empty seat. Why would Syaoran leave so suddenly? Besides, he had given up all his powers in order to save Sakura’s life. Sakura did not know that yet, because Syaoran had sworn them all to secrecy. There was no way that Syaoran would just leave without letting Sakura know why—he would not hurt her in such a way. Which meant that there could really have been some emergency family situation which called him back to Hong Kong so abruptly; that was the only logical explanation.

“He didn’t say a word to me,” Sakura murmured, staring at her scratched wooden desk. There was a loud humming in her ear—she did not know if it was because of the droning of the students or if it was actually in her mind. “He promised me. He promised to let me know.”

“I’m sure he had a reason,” Tomoyo said, taking her seat next to Sakura, homeroom about to begin.

Shaking her head, Sakura said, “But he promised.” She had not forgotten. Syaoran had promised her back in the hospital, when she was recovering from sealing the Plague, that he would tell her if he were to go back to Hong Kong. He told her that he was no longer the Chosen One, that he chose to stay. Then, why would he go back to Hong Kong without any explanation?

Terada-sensei entered the classroom with heavy steps and cleared his throat. “Good morning class. It is regrettable to say that our classmate Li Syaoran has had to return to Hong Kong because of a family situation with graduation less than a month away. Though you will not be entering high school together with him, let us wish the very best of luck for our friend. On another note, I know some of you have been concerned about the absence of another classmate. Chang Eron, as you all know, has been very ill from the epidemic crisis a few weeks ago, and has been slowly recovering. Chang Erika has been taking care of him, of course, and let us know that Eron-kun is doing much better. If all of you want to write a get well card, I will collect them at the end of homeroom.” Pausing, Terada-sensei glanced at Rika, who sat in the front row. Rika deliberately looked away.

The buzz among the students caused them to almost miss the next announcement their homeroom teacher of two years had to make.

“There is one last bit of news I have to tell you.” Terada-sensei stalled, gazing at his students with a sense of pride mixed with rue. “I am sad to inform you that I will be transferring away from this school. It has been a pleasure being your homeroom teacher for many of you for the past two years—many of you are also familiar faces from Tomoeda Elementary, where I first began my teaching career. Thank you so much for making my teaching you students such a great pleasure.”

There was a rare moment of complete silence in the classroom—nobody had expected this shocking news to come from their much beloved homeroom teacher.

“What?” Naoko finally uttered, leaping up from her seat. “Why, Terada-sensei? It’s less than a month left till our graduation! You can’t just leave us at the end of the school year!”

Terada-sensei’s fists were clenched as he stared down at the podium. “I’m sorry things worked out this way. Hanamoto-sensei would be substituting this class until for the remaining month. However, I wish you the very best of luck on your graduation. You don’t know how proud I am of all of you.”

“I don’t understand!” Akagi Aki exclaimed, slamming his fists on his desk. “You have to be at our graduation. You can’t just leave us—look at our class. Li-kun’s transferred away, the Chang twins have been gone for a month, Mizuki-kun’s always absent. Not you too, Terada-sensei. You can’t desert us too.”

The students of class 3-2 glanced around the classroom, at the empty seats scattered about. Most of the students had been sickly for the past month and the other was exhausted with examination studying. Together, the students of that class had gone through a lot over the past year. The energy from the Star-Crossed days was far lacking, but that class had a tighter bond than any other class in Seijou High. After all, most of the students had been in the same class since Tomoeda Elementary days.

Terada-sensei’s eyes glistened as he gazed upon one student with gray-brown eyes that gazed up at him solemnly from her desk. “I apologize to all of you.” He bowed to his class then looked up again. “Homeroom dismissed.” Gathering his books, he slowly walked out of the class.

And Rika sat paralyzed in her chair, gazing at the empty podium.

“What are you doing?” Chiharu hissed. “Go after him.”

“I—I can’t,” said Rika.

“What are you talking about? This may be your last chance to see him!” Chiharu said, yanking Rika by the wrist and forcing her to stand. “Go now. Go and tell him your feelings! This is your chance!”

Suddenly, Rika looked alert again as she stood up, knocking her chair back. She ran out of the classroom. A couple of the students looked up startled at the sudden outburst from the quietest girl in the class. As Sakura glimpsed Rika’s face, her gentle features overcome with a fierce determination, Sakura realized that there was an amazing strength in such a sweet, timid girl. The news of Terada-sensei’s departure almost eclipsed the news that Syaoran had returned to Hong Kong, because this announcement was straight in front of her. It was almost a relief to face the most immediate shock. And Sakura realized by the perplexed expression on Chiharu’s face that her friend knew something she did not know—could something have happened while she was confined to the hospital?

Sakura took Chiharu’s sleeve. “Chiharu-chan. What is going on? Do you know why Terada-sensei’s suddenly leaving?” In a lower voice, she asked, “Did something happen between Terada-sensei and Rika-chan?”

“Oh Sakura-chan.” Chiharu looked at her friend sorrowfully. “You were sick and out of school for a while. You missed the whole fiasco.”

“What happened?” Sakura demanded, noting the crease on Tomoyo’s pale forehead—everyone knew what was going on. At least between her close group of friends. She supposed because she was ill, they had spared her from the details.

“They found out,” Chiharu stated.

“Who?” Sakura asked in frustration. It wasn’t like Chiharu to draw out her sentences like this.

“The school administration. They found out about Terada-sensei and Rika-chan’s relationship,” Tomoyo finished off for Chiharu. “It’s been a couple weeks now.”

Sakura blinked. “But how?”

“Who knows? Maybe someone tattled,” Chiharu said darkly. “Either way, Terada-sensei was told that he has to hand in his resignation form. They’re trying to cover up the scandal this would cause, you see. The forbidden relationship between a teacher and a student—if the parents found out about it, it would cause quite a commotion.”

“So, Rika-chan knew about this?” Sakura asked.

“Well, her parents were called in the by the principal—she’s been forbidden to meet with Terada-sensei privately. And now that he’s leaving the school, she’ll never be able to see him,” Chiharu said.

“Why didn’t you guys let me know that Rika-chan was going through such hard times?” Sakura demanded.

“Sakura-chan, you’ve been through a lot recently also—I mean, you were in the hospital. We were so worried when we heard you were in a coma, we couldn’t burden you with all this also,” Chiharu said. “Besides, Rika-chan wanted to keep things as shushed as possible. Only a few people know about this—it’s probably because Terada-sensei is the principal’s nephew, as I’ve heard, that they’re keeping this low key. You know—if the parents find out if a teacher here had a relationship with a student, there would be an uproar.”

“Poor Rika-chan,” Sakura murmured. Out of all her friends, Rika had always been the most mature and gracious, the one who never let on her troubles or fears, the one who was always composed and calm. And at this moment, there was nothing she could do for Rika.

Sasaki Rika ran down the hall as she had never run before. She did not have time to think of what to say to him—all she could think was that she had to reach him. There he was at the end of the corridor, tall in a navy blue suit, his hair neatly cropped and his shoulder so broad and reliable. “Terada-sensei!” she called out.

He stopped for a moment, flinching. He could hear the footsteps right behind him now, the soft, frail body colliding into him.

“Terada-sensei!” Rika said through tears, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her head in his back.

“Rika—someone might see us,” he said lowly.

“Don’t leave, Terada-sensei!” Rika sobbed into his suit. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. Why do you have to leave? Don’t leave.”

“I have to go, Rika. Don’t make this any more difficult.”

His voice was so curt, so emotionless. Ah, so this is an adult, Rika realized, her hold on him loosening. “Sensei, three years. Just in three years, I’ll be able to be with you. I’ll always love you, so please wait for me. If you can tell me you’ll wait for me, I’ll be able to bear through this.”

“Rika,” Terada Yoshiyuki said, stepping away from the girl’s grasp. “I’m many years older than you. In three years, in five years, in ten years, I don’t know where I’ll be at. Therefore, I cannot make any promises. And you’re still so young, Rika. There are so many opportunities for you.

“No!” Rika swallowed hard. “I’ll always love you, Terada-sensei, and only you.”

“You’re young, beautiful and smart. Don’t waste your youth waiting for me.” Terada Yoshiyuki found that he could not turn around to see the girl he had loved. All these years, he had known that their relationship was a sin, that it was a societal taboo. Yet, he had thought if he could keep it a secret, if he could wait a couple more years—but it was too late now for regrets. The school administration had agreed not to expel Sasaki Rika so long as the teacher at fault left the school permanently. And he was never to see Rika again. That was her parents’ request. She was crying, and he could not hold her and let her know that he would always love her. He could not bind her down like that, because she was still a child. It was wrong of him to be so selfish. As an adult, he had to let her go. It took all his will to keep his voice from cracking. “Good bye, Rika. I wish you the best of luck.”

“Terada Yoshiyuki! Wait for me for just three year!” Rika called out, as Terada-sensei slowly walked out of the school door, out of her life, just like that. He gave a tiny wave of his hand and a half-smile before he walked out of the Seijou Junior High school gate, forever. Rika crumpled down on her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Just three more years,” she repeated to herself.

But now, there were footsteps behind her as her three closest friends caught up with her.

“Rika-chan, it’s not your fault. You don’t need to feel guilty,” Chiharu said, walking up behind her best friend. “He chose to leave. For your sake.”

“I know,” Rika replied, without looking up. “To protect me. Because he’s an adult. I wish I can hurry and grow up. It’s like, no matter how much older I get, I can never attain him, never catch up to him.”

“I’m sorry, Rika-chan,” Sakura said, bending down and giving her friend a tight hug. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you while you were going through all this.”

“It’s not Sakura-chan’s fault,” Rika said, turning to Sakura and patting her friend’s shoulder. There was an instant bond between the two like there never had been before, for at that moment, the two girls realized that they both understood each other’s feelings, for they had both experienced being parted from a loved one. “Thank you, Sakura-chan.”

Tomoyo walked up behind the three girls, smiling nostalgically at Rika, Chiharu and Sakura, who were crying and laughing at the same time. In the chaos of recent events which had reduced Sakura to a shadow of her former self, Tomoyo had forgotten the true essence of her best friend, the reason that everyone loved her, for Sakura’s heart was like a bottomless ocean. Even at this moment when she was hurting so much with Subaru’s death, the gruesome battle against the Plague, the disappearance of Syaoran and recovering herself from near-death, Sakura was still able to pour all her heart into reassuring Rika at that moment.

“I’m all right, guys,” Rika said, wiping the corner of her eyes with a sleeve. “Just see in three years. I’ll become such a fantastic woman that Terada-sensei would not be able to turn from me then.”

And watching the strength in Rika to stand up again after Terada-sensei left her gave Sakura courage to face her own inner demons. For at that moment, Sakura realized the fierceness of a woman’s heart.

******

In a way, Sakura was relieved that she did not see Syaoran, because she no longer had the courage to face him—how could she? She had disobeyed his orders, used the Heal recklessly, put everyone’s life on the line and lost Subaru. But she always thought that when she was ready, when she gathered enough strength to face him again, he would be standing there, ready to accept her. But when she thought she was ready, he was not there. When she needed a listening ear, he was not by her side to listen. When she wanted to see him, he was already gone.

It had been a week since Syaoran had gone missing. And Sakura had not even realized he was gone. Because she didn’t sense that he was gone. Because she did not look for him. Because she did not believe he would leave without telling her. It was not until Naoko came running to the classroom that Monday morning, out of breath with the news that she had overheard Terada-sensei speaking with the principal that Li Syaoran had officially transferred, that it truly hit Sakura he had left. Somehow, she had blundered through the school day—all order had been lost in the classroom after the news of Syaoran’s departure and Terada-sensei’s own declaration of resignation with less than a month till graduation.

But all was forgotten. Even Rika’s heartbroken face when Terada-sensei walked away from the school. All she could think about was that she had to speak with Syaoran, try to understand. But where could she reach him?

There was one person who was the best resource on gathering data about people. So once more, Sakura found herself at the apartment complex that she had spent a third of the year living in. Since Syaoran was no longer in it, the house suddenly felt alien and like any other building, not the place she associated so many warm memories to.

She wrapped her coat tightly around her school uniform as she walked through the front door of apartment #703 that was never locked. It was freezing in Kai’s apartment—did he forget to pay gas bills? “Kai-kun? Are you in? How have you been doing?” Sakura called out, peering at the darkened room with all the shades drawn down, and it was the glint of steel gray of his eyes which allowed her to see him against the camouflage of his black leather chair. Since Kai always wore black, the only way that she could tell that he was till in mourning for Subaru was that his parrot was black, and that he was bare of his usual garish jewelry except for the periwinkle studs in his earlobes. “It looks like you’ve been recovering from the Plague, not me.”

“I’m glad you still have your sense of humor left,” Kai remarked dryly, leaning back on the chair.

“Well, I don’t have much else left, do I?” Sakura sighed. It was a relief to be blunt and say whatever was on her mind. With Kai, she did not have to put up a front; she could just be herself.

“I’m sorry, Sakura-chan.” Kai said solemnly gazing up at Sakura from his seat by the dining table, his usual sunglasses on the table top. His gray blue eyes were bloodshot, but there was no longer the hounded, troubled expression on his face.

“What for, Kai-kun?”

“For everything—you almost lost your life because of me,” Kai replied, find for the first time at a loss of words. “Trying to save everyone with the Five Force Treasures. I knew what danger you were stepping into, and I let you go ahead with it.”

“I should thank you for lending them to me,” Sakura corrected. “You helped me save everyone. I would rather risk everything if there was even one percent of success rather than be helpless and just let things happen. Without you, the Plague couldn’t have been sealed. Thank you, Kai-kun.”

At this, Kai shifted uncomfortably in his chair, knowing he was not worthy of gratitude from this girl. “If you want this back—this originally belonged to you anyway. Though it’s not like it used to be.” Kai slipped out a small object wrapped in a black handkerchief and placed it in Sakura’s hand.

Slowly, Sakura unwrapped the silk cloth to find two pieces of crystal that looked like it was broken in half. She almost let out a sob when she realized what it was—the Amamiya diamond necklace. Since she did not know what to do with it, she hastily wrapped it back in the handkerchief and shoved it into her book bag.

“I gather you’ve heard the news about Syaoran at school,” Kai remarked.

“Do you have any news from him?” Sakura asked imploringly. “He doesn’t pick up the phone. I called him in Hong Kong, and no one picks up there either.”

Shaking his head, Kai said, “I’ve done the same—even Meilin doesn’t answer her cell phone.”

“Do you think something’s happened to him?”

“I don’t know,” Kai replied.

“Where’s Wolfie-chan? Did Syaoran take Wolfie-chan with him too? He must have, right? I mean, if something happened to Syaoran, he wouldn’t have been able to take the dog with him.” Sakura kept looking over her shoulders at the wall conjoining Kai’s living room to Syaoran’s room, as if she’d hear some noise next-doors, some reassurance that he was still there, after all.

Without a word, Kai pushed a card that was face down across the table.

“What is this?” Sakura murmured as she picked it up and turned it over to see the face of the Sakura card—she hadn’t recognized it at first because it was a dull gray color. A lump formed in her throat. “The Wolf—why?”

“I don’t know. I found it not too far from the apartment, about a week ago. I think it was soon after Syaoran’s disappearance. I can’t even figure out exactly when he left the country. I didn’t think he’s left permanently because everything’s still there in his apartment.”

“You broke in to his apartment,” Sakura accused.

“No, as a concerned neighbor, I had to check upon my missing friend,” Kai corrected. “Judging upon the fact that he has not packed anything, and the state of Wolfie-chan, I have to wonder if he went back willingly.”

“Do you mean to say he was kidnapped by his family or something?” Sakura asked sharply.

“I didn’t say that—I’m just assuming that his return was as abrupt to him as to it was to us, since he did not take anything back with him and Wolfie-chan has somehow returned to its sealed form.”

”What I don’t understand is why it’s gray,” Sakura said, fingering the card. “Like it’s… dead.” She remembered that summer at the beachside, when Syaoran had converted the Wolf into a light force, and it had lived as their pet ever since. Though Syaoran had christened the puppy Vega of Lyra, after his favorite star, the nickname Wolfie-chan had stuck. “You don’t think Syaoran would really leave without telling us, do you, Kai-kun?”

“Why ask me? I’m the sort of guy who would do so without blinking an eye. You know Syaoran better than me,” Kai snapped.

Sakura gazed at Kai morosely—it was funny how Kai sometimes reminded her of her brother. “What if something happened to him?”

“He’s a big boy—I doubt anyone can do him any harm, even if they do want to, heaven knows why.” What Kai did not mention to Sakura was that at this point, Syaoran was especially vulnerable without his powers.

“But why would he leave without letting me know?” Sakura’s face crunched up—she would not show tears to Kai. Because Kai laughed at human weakness. Kai was no stranger to parting from people without any second thought.

“Well, go pine for your wolf-boy on your own. I’ve got more important business to take care of,” Kai stated, brushing off Sakura for he simply could not deal with weepy girls at that moment. Sakura scowled—she knew she had milked all the information she could from Kai; he had been surprisingly agreeable up till this point, and even more surprisingly useless.

“Such as what to do about Miho?” remarked Sakura, crossing her arms.

“I—“ Kai was cut off by Sakura.

“I know. You did something to her to throw her off guard. But that doesn’t change the fact that she is suspicious of you still. Sooner or later the layers of lies will crumble away. Then, do you think she would be able to ever forgive you for deceiving her time and time again?” Sakura asked. “No, if my own brother did that to me, even if he had his reasons, I would feel betrayed beyond healing. All Miho asks of you is to just tell her the truth, and—“

“I know!” Kai snapped, slamming his fists on the table. Sakura was taken back by his sudden outburst. “I know all that. Don’t you know how many times I ponder what it would be like to just tell her everything? Tell her I’m her brother, how I became Kaitou Magician, how I didn’t want to lie to her. Up till now wasn’t the hardest part. When I had a direction, when I was focused on finding the Five Force Treasures, when I was Kaitou Magician, I just concentrated on the present and what I had to do in order to finish my task at hand. But now, it’s different. Suddenly, everything I’ve been striving towards is winding to an end. I shouldn’t even be alive right now, yet I’m still living. So, what am I supposed to do now? Where am I supposed to head towards? What can I tell her? Voila, I am your brother after all. I lied to you and told you that you’re brother is dead, because I don’t deserve to be able to return to being Tanaka Mikai? I am sorry, but can you accept me as I am?” Kai shook his head. “No, I can’t. You know that. No matter what direction I take from here, she is bound to reproach me. And how can I face my mother again? I—I betrayed her faith in me and abandoned her in her illness…”

Sakura realized that there was yet more things that Kai was not telling her, that maybe she would never truly understand what was behind his constant facade. Another thing she realized was that maybe he had been truly happiest as Kaitou Magician. As Mizuki Kai, a person who didn’t truly exist, or Tanaka Mikai, a person who had ceased to exist, he was always struggling in inner turmoil and anxiety, battling the demons within him to come to terms with his very existence. And she could understand that. Who was she? Kinomoto Sakura, the carefree fifteen year old girl? The Sakura Card Mistress, chosen to be Clow Reed’s Successor? To the Dark Ones, she was the despicable descendent of Amamiya Hayashi of the Great Five. To her brother, she was just an annoying little ogre. To Syaoran, what was she? All these things? None of these things?

“Have you seen… how mother’s doing?” Kai asked, looking up at Sakura.

“You haven’t seen her yet?” Sakura shook her head in admonishingly. “Miho visits her every day—Tanaka-san’s health is improving so rapidly, the doctors keep saying it’s a miracle. But there are some… side effects as well.”

“I see… She has Miho looking after her… I keep telling myself, soon, I will tell Miho the truth. But she’s so happy now that okaa-san’s health is improving. So just a little longer, let me watch over her.” Kai smiled wistfully, as if recalling cheerier days. He did not add out loud, Then, when everything is in its place, I will tell her. And I can leave in peace…

“Sometimes, when you keep delaying something to wait for the perfect timing, you end up losing the opportunity,” said Sakura grimly.

“That would be nice also, the best option, if possible,” Kai replied in his usual flippant manner. He had recovered from his momentary slip of self-restraint; he could not let Miho know yet. Eventually, she would find out. But not yet. There were things yet to be done. “Well now, go ponder on you own missed opportunities and let this poor retiree thief try to seek redemption in quiet mediation and prayer.”

“By the way, you’re not going to get your graduation certificate if you miss anymore classes,” Sakura remarked as she was ushered out the door. “You’re going to end up in the same grade as Miho-chan if you flunk again.”

“That is the last of my worries,” Kai said, the corner of his lips curling up sardonically. He shut the door on her face. Poor Sakura-chan. If he could, he would tie Syaoran up and bring him back to his little cherry blossom. Locking the door, he slinked down onto the floor, clutching his throbbing chest. The pain came more erratically, more frequently than ever, like electric shocks that shook his body asunder. His parrot landed on his shoulder and pecked his perspiring cheek. “Ah, Perro-chan. This is it, I guess. Time’s up.” Kai reached for his bird with trembling hands. “Who will take care of you if I’m not around?” For a brief moment, he had a flash of an animated face with bright amber eyes, scolding him for being weak, for being an angst-ridden, spineless coward. Why did he recall her face at a time like this?

“Time’s up, time’s up,” echoed Perro-chan.

As Sakura left Kai’s apartment, she found herself standing in front of the door right beside Kai’s place. She could not resist sneaking into the apartment next doors with her spare key, which she had kept from that summer she had been resident there. Though she knew it was not a good idea, she needed to see with her own eyes that Syaoran was really gone. Kai had told her that Syaoran had taken nothing with him. Stepping into the house, she felt a wave of nostalgia at the minty peach smell that lingered in the air. There was the couch that she and Syaoran had fallen asleep on many a time while doing their homework or watching anime reruns late into the night while procrastinating. There was the dining table that the two had shared so many meals, the sink they had washed and dried dishes side by side. There was the strawberry-pattern mat the Wolfie-chan slept on, that she and Syaoran had picked out together. The Wolf Card in her coat pocket weighed heavy. How could Syaoran have let anything happen to Wolfie-chan? She could not dwell on the question and continued down the gleaming wooden hallway. There was the bathroom that she and Syaoran brushed their teeth in together in the morning while getting ready to go to school pushing each other to get to the sink when they were tardy. The guestroom—her temporary room— was yet untouched. She suspected that some of her clothes that she had never taken back still hung in the closet—but she did not want to check. What if he had thrown them out?

And there was Syaoran’s bedroom, the door ajar. The bed was neatly made with green sheets. The curtains were drawn. She walked over to the wall behind the bed. The wolf and cherry blossom embroidery she had made him for Christmas still hung there. She fingered the fabric tenderly—was it was not important enough for him to take back with him to Hong Kong? And there was the bear with wings on his desk, the one she had made him in return for the black Syaoran-bear he had made her back in fifth grade. He had not taken that back with him either—he took back nothing that she had given him. Really, how important was her presence in his life? If she could, if he had given her a chance, she would have hugged him, hugged him hard and begged him not to leave. This time, she would not have let him go without a fight. She would have grabbed onto his hand and refused to let him go. But he had not given her the chance. He had left without a word. Everything was there as if she had never even left the house, and it seemed as if Syaoran would walk right back into the front door, after soccer practice. He would change out of his uniform into a t-shirt and sweatpants and they would prepare dinner together, or he would teach her more martial arts moves. On Saturdays, they would do grocery together, and on Sundays, they would do laundry and house cleaning. Then, at the end of the day, they would buy melon popsicles and take Wolfie-chan out for a walk. They fought a lot too. He would say something biting to her, but then she would see his amber eyes soften in remorse. Somehow, she could never remain truly mad at Syaoran, not since that thundering night when she ran to his room after a nightmare, and he told her about his past with such honesty, about his cousin’s death and his determination then on to become the Chosen One. Because for the first time, he had really opened up to her, conveyed that he completely trusted her. Her throat choked up.

Realizing that the house was suffocating because it was as if Syaoran was still there, Sakura bolted out of the empty, empty apartment. Syaoran was no longer here.

******

Sasaki Rika would become sixteen in June. For nearly half her life, she had loved one man, and he happened to be her homeroom teacher, Terada Yoshiyuki. At first glance, he was a mild, temperate man, someone who was always calm and gentle. Since he was young and kind, Terada-sensei had always been popular among the students and staff alike. Rika knew that Terada-sensei treated all his students equally and fairly, which was why she grew to respect him so much in the beginning. Her love may have begun as a one-sided student’s crush but over the years, she knew that things have changed. She knew that when he gazed into her eyes, there was more warmth, more fervor than he showed anyone else. She knew that lately, he had begun looking at her as a woman.

But now, it was over, the relationship that barely was able to blossom was trampled upon, scorned upon. Was loving a man such a sin? Sometimes, she was jealous of her best friend Chiharu’s relationship with Yamazaki-kun. So open and uncomplicated. Through her junior high years, Rika had to always hide her relationship with Terada-sensei from the public eye. Her closest friends knew—Tomoyo had noticed first, years ago, but now Chiharu, Sakura and Naoko all knew and supported her. They did not think it was wrong for a teacher and a student to be in a relationship. It had been going well. Those moments alone with Terada-sensei were so rare and there was always the looming anxiety of being discovered. But those moments were so sweet and blissful. Together, they talked up everything. Rika talked about her family, the books she read, the piano pieces she was learning, the little stories of the day involving her friends. And Terada-sensei would teach her so much about the world, talk about literature, history, the constellation. Sometimes, he would tell stories of when he was a student—he had been quite a prankster back then.

“Nee, Terada-sensei, why did you decide to become a teacher?” Rika asked one day, leaning her head against Terada-sensei’s broad shoulders as they sat side by side on the park bench. She was not in her uniform, so an observer would have just thought them a couple in love, not a teacher and his student.

“I wonder too,” Terada-sensei replied, smiling nostalgically. “Nobody would have expected that of me. My grades weren’t terribly good. After all, I spent more time playing baseball than studying. I think my dream when I was a boy was to go pro baseball.”

“Then, how did you end up as a teacher?” Rika gazed up at Terada-sensei clean-cut profile.

“Well, I had a teacher in high school—a person that I admired a lot. She was the sort of person that would trust the students no matter what; she was on the side of the students, not like those adults who pretended to understand but when they made decisions, did what was beneficial to them. And one day, I decided I wanted to be like her. So, I got a teaching license in university and somehow ended becoming a teacher,” stated Terada-sensei.

“Did you like her?” Rika questioned somberly.

Taken back, Terada-sensei stared into Rika’s chestnut brown eyes and stammered, “Well, it was just a high school boy’s puppy love. How should I put it—we all liked her, admired her.”

Rika chuckled. “It’s okay, Terada-sensei. After all, if it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t have become my teacher, and I wouldn’t have met you.”

Returning her smile, Terada-sensei smoothed a lock of hair away from her smooth forehead. “So, Rika, what do you want to become?”

“Why, Sensei’s bride of course,” Rika replied, smiling. She wondered if he would laugh at her childish answer.

At this, she could see Terada-sensei blush, even in the dark. “Why did you choose me, Rika?”

“Why did you choose me, Terada-sensei?” Rika returned.

That conversation had taken place not too long ago. Shortly afterwards, the scandal blew out of proportion when the school administration found out about her relationship with Terada Yoshiyuki. They could have denied it—but Rika didn’t want to lie. Because what was wrong with two people loving each other?

“Rika, aren’t you going to your piano lesson?” her mother called out from outside her room. She tried the door and found it locked.

“I’m not feeling well,” Rika stated, falling over onto her bed. This last month of school before graduation was going to be unbearable. There was no joy in going to a school without Terada-sensei. She checked her cell phone. Still no message from him. And he did not return any of her calls.

“Rika, I don’t know what is wrong with you these days,” her mother said through the doors. “You’ve always been so well behaved. I understand the sort of feeling you had for your homeroom teacher—everybody has such crushes at your age. But for him to encourage that sort of behavior—“

“It’s not just a crush—okaa-san, I love Terada-sensei. And because of you, he had to leave!” Rika burst out, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Rika, what do you know of love at the age of fifteen? It may seem important right now, but in the long run, you’ll be grateful that this happened,” Rika’s mother said, swinging open the bedroom door to see her daughter sitting on the corner of her bed, hugging her knees in a fetal position.

“I’m almost sixteen now, and I love him. I love him, and what’s wrong with that?” Rika demanded.

“He’s so much older than you—he’s taking advantage of his position of authority. You’re still a young girl,” was her mother’s steady response.

“I’m old enough to know that I love him,” Rika whispered.

“I know I should have sent you to a private school, like your father suggested,” her mother sighed. “You’re lucky your father was away on a business trip. We’ll keep this from him.”

Rika closed her eyes and lay down in her bed. “Is it a sin to love someone?”

Her mother pressed a hand on Rika’s forehead. “Don’t come down with something—you’ve just recovered from that horrible case of flu, and graduation’s coming up. Otou-san will be back for your graduation. Isn’t that exciting?”

“It was the plague, not the flu,” murmured Rika.

“I’ll call the piano instructor and let her know that you’re not feeling well—but you’re going tomorrow, all right darling?”

“I’m not going today, nor tomorrow,” Rika stated, voice muffled in her piano. “I’m sorry okaa-san, but I just want to be alone.”

“Well, come down to dinner in an hour,” her mother said, walking out the room. “You best forget about that Terada-sensei—he’s left for good.”

The door shut and it was silent once more. Rika hugged her blanket closer to her. How could she ever forget Terada-sensei? Loving him had made her into who she was today. And she would never regret falling in love with him.

******

It had taken Kai a month to return to the hospital room #205 where his mother lay. He knew that every day, Miho went to the hospital straight after school and stayed late into the night there—sometimes in the evenings, she slept on the cot by her mother’s side and went to school directly from the hospital—Eriol would bring her a fresh change of uniform in the morning.

His mother lay on the bed, eyes closed, looking so serene and beautiful. When she was sleeping, she looked no older than twenty, all the lines in her face eased out. As usual, he placed the fresh bouquet of lilies in the vase on the nightstand. He straightened the open journal on her lap, frowning as he glimpsed the letters that did not line up with the lining of the paper. Careful not to make any sound, he sat down on the stool next to her bedside and gazed at her face closer. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breath was soft and steady—she was no longer in pain. She was recovering. He could not help smiling. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand, which was so thin and white, even against the white flannel blanket. These were the hands that would pack him and Miho the least appetizing bento in the morning. Her fingers would always be stained with ink. In that sense, she and his father were quite a set—her father’s fingers would always be smudged with graphite. Miho used to cry in the morning when Miara brushed and braided her hair because her mother was so rough and sloppy with the braiding. So, he had learned to brush and braid Miho’s hair, and Miara would use the extra ten minutes in the morning to edit her articles. Though their mother hadn’t been much of a housekeeper, she had been a brilliant journalist with keen observational skills and a wizardry in forming words to describe events. Like Miho.

Miara’s eyes fluttered and opened. Kai was taken aback to find her eyes upon him, and he didn’t even have the sense to leap up and flee. He blinked back at his mother with eyes the very same shade as hers.

She continued to stare at him without a word, and her eyes, while in his direction, were unfocused, as if she was staring at the wall. Why did she not say a word, not even look surprised? Then, it dawned upon Kai. He remembered Sakura’s troubled expression as she said, “There are some side effects as well.” Gingerly, he reached out one hand and waved it in front of his mother’s eyes. There was no response. He felt a lump in his throat. Even after all this… Even after everything I put into finding a cure…

“Is someone there?” Miara finally asked, holding up her arms and waving them in front of her.

Kai remained silent as her fingers almost brushed against his face.

“Mikai, is it you again?” She was smiling now. “I knew you’d come. Okaa-san is finally getting better. I’m going to get completely released from the hospital soon, for once and for all. The Plague is finally sealed… I knew Nadeshiko’s daughter could do it. I never thought I would live till this day, but here I am now. Maybe I can really live to be old and see you and Miho marry and have my grandchildren. I can write my Nobel-prize novel and visit every city in the world. I can make up for being such a hopeless mother to you two. The three of us can live together again—we’ll find a new house for us. And it would be like old times.” Her hands found his hands. “Why are your hands so cold, Mikai? Mikai? Are you crying? Don’t worry. I don’t mind not being able to see. It’s a blessing just being given this second chance. I’ve already seen much already—now, I can enjoy living. I can still write—typing is no problem since I’ve memorized the keyboard. Miho reads to me everyday, so that’s no problem either. Only, I’d have liked to see how handsome you grew up to be. But I can imagine it—you must look a bit like Keisuke-san when he was young—only you’ll be even handsomer because you take more after me.”

He gently slipped his hands away from hers.