The Depth of Anger A knock sounded at the door. Syaoran opened his eyes slowly at the quiet intrusion, blinking. The scene slowly came into focus around him and he found himself staring up at a canopy directly overhead. Mist curtains hung around him, tied back and away from the bed, allowing him a view of the rest of the room. He frowned faintly, looking about, and he shifted a bit, grimacing at a sudden soreness that swept through his entire body. Nani… The knock came again and he started. He couldn’t remember at the moment but wherever he was, he wasn’t supposed to be there. To his right, a side door opened and out came Sakura, floating toward the main door directly before the bed. He froze instantly, eyes closing into slits. Halfway to the door Sakura paused. “Hai!” she called and she quickly made her way to the bed, hurriedly untying the curtains. They fell to cover the bed softly but he realized he could see through them slightly. He doubted anyone could see in. Sakura opened the door. “Syaoran-sama asked for you tonight,” someone said in a husky voice at the door. “Me, again?” Sakura asked quietly. “He’s waiting,” was the only reply. Wordlessly, Sakura shut the door. He heard, more than saw, her float back toward the side door. He reached out slowly and parted the curtains a bit, listening to water run from behind the closed door. Things were also being moved about inside. With a soft groan he rose onto his rear, the movement sending splinters of pain racing up his back. He reached up behind himself and touched the skin of his back cautiously. There were gashes zigzagged across the entire length, biting deep into his flesh and he exhaled in defeat as his fingertips brushed the lacerations. But he realized a moment later it wasn’t as bad as he had thought. Or perhaps he had healed some. But how long had he been out that he had healed so much? He didn’t want to venture a guess. The side door opened and Sakura came out once more. Syaoran’s jaw dropped open. She wore a sheer wrap around herself. That and nothing more. Perhaps in artificial light it wasn’t as sheer but with the moonlight coming in through the window beside the bed he could see every single curve of her, every tiny characteristic of her slender form. She looked at herself in the mirror, hesitating. And after staring blankly for several seconds she laid her palms on the dresser and exhaled shakily. Her head dropped as if suddenly burdened with a heavy weight, the wrap opening in the front for him to get a pretty good look at just about all of her. Self consciously, he lifted his eyes to her face reflected in the mirror and kept them there with sheer strength of will. “C’mon, Sakura,” she whispered to herself, “It’s one night. You can do it-“ Syaoran rose from the bed silently, coming up behind her on bare feet. “He might not even want you,” she was still murmuring, “Like last time. Maybe you’ll scare the crap out of him again-“ Syaoran lifted a hand and placed it on her bare shoulder. She instantly whirled, ramming into her dresser with a cry. Bottles and tubes on the dresser top rattled and jumped, balance upset. “Gomen! Gomen!” Syaoran said instantly, hands held out to calm her suddenly heaving figure. “I just wanted to talk to you-“ “Syaoran!” she gasped. “You scared me! I thought you were still asleep!” She leaned against her dresser, lifting a trembling hand to her forehead as she closed her eyes. “Gomen,” he said again, softer this time. And he took a step forward, taking hold of the wrap and tugging it closed around her. She recoiled a bit, eyes widening, and then shamefully took the wrap herself, enfolding herself in it. Syaoran looked at her from up close, wanting her to look up but she kept her eyes on the floor, a heated blush coloring her cheeks. After a moment he stepped away again. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just woke up right now,” he motioned toward the bed, “and I have no idea where I am or how long I’ve been out-“ “Oh, your back,” she murmured, cutting him off. She rose from the dresser and wound around him, examining his bare back. Syaoran followed her with his eyes cautiously, turning his head the slightest bit. He felt her hands on his back, cool fingertips tracing over his gashes. “It’s looking better,” Sakura said quietly. Syaoran let her poke some more, grimacing faintly when she touched some bruises. “Arigato,” he said quietly. She paused, fingers stopping on a shoulder. “Hoee?” He stiffened noticeably, head bowing. And then, very slowly, he turned to face her, gazing into her wide green eyes. His amber eyes flickered across her face, from one green eye to the other, lips parting. “Nani?” she asked him quietly. He slowly lifted his hand to her face, hesitating a hair’s breadth away from touching the smooth skin of her jaw. “You sound so much like her,” he said gently, mouth tightening into a firm line as he said it. She gazed back, staring straight into his eyes. “Who?” she asked faintly, as if afraid of the answer. He smiled, finally allowing his thumb to pass over the corner of her mouth. “Boku no Sakura.” Her eyes strayed to his lips as he said it, the irises shining in surprise at his reply. And it was almost as if she were frozen in place, unable to move anything except her eyes, to memorize every detail of his face and commit it to memory. His other hand lifted to her other jaw, both thumbs tracing the lines of her jaw, fingers cupping the nape of her neck lightly. But he allowed her to back away, her head bowing self-consciously. “I have to go,” she murmured and she wound around him, avoiding his gaze. He turned to follow her with his eyes, allowing them to skim over her for a moment. How had he ever managed to get such a beautiful woman to fall in love with him in his world? And how could he have ever let her get away? Why was he still apart from her now? “Where are you going?” he asked distractedly. She pulled the wrap tighter around her as she began to pick up the bottles on the dresser top once more. “To see Syaoran…sama,” she replied reluctantly, facing her dresser. He felt a small twinge in his heart. “You’re going dressed like that?” he asked, sounding blank. She slowed for a moment, in the middle of settling a bottle of lotion. “Yes,” she answered. He paused, tilting his head. “For how long?” “The night,” she replied instantly, as if she had been expecting that to be his next question. And she left the dresser top a mess, moving to the door as if fleeing. Syaoran’s lips parted, a frown crossing his face as he slowly, only then, understood. Understood what she was and what she was doing there. Why she was going to go see his double at this time. His voice came out faint, stricken, and his sentence made her stop abruptly, hand on the doorknob. “You’re a concubine?” At the door, Sakura bowed her head, almost touching it to the door’s surface. “No,” she replied, for a moment relieving him. And then she turned her head in his direction but didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m a whore, Syaoran,” she spat harshly. “Concubine makes it sound almost pretty. It’s not pretty. It’s degrading.” Syaoran felt as if his breath had been torn from him, ripped away leaving behind a painful ache. “Then don’t go!” He took a step, reaching out. “Come with me-“ “I have to go,” she cut him off. And this time she did look at him, over her shoulder as she pulled open the door. “But I’ll be back, the latest tomorrow morning. Wait here for me.” “Sakura-“ “Wait for me,” she said again. Without another word she walked out, closing the door behind herself. Syaoran stared after her, lips parted. When Sakura had been alive, she had been pure. Innocence in human form. He would have waited forever for her. As long as it would have taken for her to give herself to him, body and soul. She had already given her soul at the time but they had both agreed to wait until they were older to go any further. It had been his decision and hers. And they had held to it to the end. He had never once regretted it, especially not when she had been lying in his arms, dying. But to know that she gave herself to him, his double, who wouldn’t have known the difference between innocence and the corrupt. Not with the way he was. He bowed his head slowly, feeling his stomach clench with anger. Anger at the world, for being unforgiving and for taking away the one thing that had ever truly mattered. No. He wasn’t going to let her do it, not anymore. Before this was over she was going home with him. Back to her family. Back to her friends. Back to the people who loved her. Back with him. Sakura slowly knocked, reluctantly rapping her knuckles on the wood of the door. No sound came from inside and she hesitated a moment before opening the door. “Syaoran-sama? It’s me-“ she began, peeking in and searching the room. She took a step inside, distractedly closing the door behind herself as she looked about again. Two hands grabbed her from behind, causing her to cry out in surprise. She stumbled, instantly flailing, and the two hands shoved her up against the door roughly. She crashed against the hard wood, a gasp breaking from her and she lifted her hands instinctively, head ducking to the side. “I don’t know what you did to me. I don’t care,” a soft, hoarse voice whispered in her ear. “But undo it. Now.” Sakura slowly opened her eyes, fearfully looking at her attacker, and she found herself staring into the amber eyes of her Lord. He seemed almost insane with his anger, hands gripping her shoulders with a painfully tight hold. “Undo it,” he growled through clenched teeth, shaking her. Sakura winced, form trembling. “I didn’t do anything…” she whispered faintly, afraid to raise her voice any higher than that. He didn’t seem to be fully in control and she knew that one small move to anger him could very well have her hanged. He stared at her, eyebrows low over his eyes, fury spilling from him into the air around him, making it crackle as if he radiated magic. She stared back, lips parted, heart pounding so loud she was sure he heard it. It was all she could hear, pounding in her ears and reverberating inside. She swallowed, wishing she could stop breathing so erratically, chest heaving. He studied her for a moment longer, looking from one green eye to the other, searching for the truth in her gaze. And upon finding it he seized her wrists, ignoring the grimace that crossed her face. He shoved her wrists upwards, against the wood of the door above her head and strangely enough, he also was breathing hard. His breath slipped from between his parted lips, mingling with hers and with a feral growl he invaded her space, trapping her body between his and the door. Sakura closed her eyes again, steeling herself for anything. And she felt his presence before she actually felt him, his mouth stealing across the skin of her jaw. Almost in relief she slumped against the door, knees weak. He released her wrists, hands falling to the wrap. Her eyes came open slowly, feeling the wrap fall away under his hands to hang from her shoulders. His breath was erratic in her ear, his lips brushing wildfire along the column of her neck and she focused on the darkness of the room, on the darkness she felt inside. He felt wonderful in her arms as she embraced him, hands lifting to cup his face between trembling fingers. He lowered his hands to her ribs, kneading the soft skin there and he bent into her, feeling her fingers grasp him tightly. He was losing it, he realized dimly. Just like he had the other night, he was losing to her, allowing her to work some kind of charm on him. And he wanted it to work, wanted to fall completely under spell, be enchanted with her. Because he was already there, suffocating in her scent, dizzy with her taste. His hands spread wide, lifting up her back achingly, clasping her shoulders and crushing her small frame against his. She went wordlessly, pulse pounding underneath his tongue, lips parted around a silent cry. He fit so well against her, hair soft under her fingertips, mouth teasing her skin. She threw her head back, clasping him tightly and trembling as she realized how much she wanted him, wanted to be with him. She loved him still, even after all the years that had passed, after everything that she had seen him become. And it was wrong. Tears flooded her eyes at the thought, at realizing it. And she looked up, the teardrops sliding down her cheeks and the sides of her face. How strange that the room could spin like this. That she could feel hot and cold at the same time. Feel as if she were on fire in his embrace and frozen to her core when he shunned her, turned her away so completely. His lips returned to her jaw, hands sliding upward from her shoulders to grasp her face and just as she was sure that this time he would kiss her, that she would feel his lips brush hers, his fingers slid across her tear tracks. He froze utterly in her embrace. Sakura leaned her head back as he slowly released her, slumping against the door once more in defeat. She didn’t even want to look at him because she knew what she would see. She would see the rage in his eyes, the anger tainting his cheeks red. “Why?” he asked hoarsely, voice faint in the stillness of the room. She shook her head, more tears sliding down her cheeks. “Why?” he demanded, shouting at her. His hands clasped her shoulders once more and he shook her as if he could force some sense into her. “Why are you doing this to me? What are you trying to do?” Sakura lowered her head, pinning him with green eyes swimming in tears. She knew her gaze was blank, her silence enough to anger him. And she was silent only because she didn’t know what to say to him. He would never believe her if she said that she hadn’t died so long ago, that she was very much alive and still, after all this time, very much in love with him. Why don’t you remember me? He recoiled from her, hand lifting to his forehead as if he were in sudden pain. “Why can’t I get you out of my head?” he raged at her, anger simmering in those amber eyes. “Why do I see you, everywhere? I can’t sleep without you invading my dreams! I can’t think without seeing you in my thoughts! In my head! Always!” Sakura swallowed hollowly, staring at him silently. Her tears were slowly drying on her face, leaving her cheeks tight and rough. But she didn’t brush them away, didn’t move an inch from her spot. He stared at her, shoulders heaving. “Take it away. Whatever you did to me, whatever spell you cast. Take it off me, now!” She lowered her eyes, body strangely weary. In her peripheral vision she saw him take a menacing step forward, his form suddenly intimidating. “Remove it or so help me I will execute you myself,” he whispered faintly. Sakura exhaled weakly, hands lifting to grasp her wrap and wind it around her cold frame once more. “There’s nothing to remove. There’s no spell to take off,” she said quietly. “I didn’t do anything…” He hesitated before her, frame stiff. And she didn’t dare meet his eyes, instead focusing on the floor. His hand lifted slowly, a finger catching under her jaw and she looked at him fearfully as he lifted her head to him. The smile upon his lips was unexpected and she froze as he leaned forward, mouth coming close to hers. Her wide green eyes stared into his hooded amber ones, heart suddenly beginning to pound once more. With the tender caress of a lover he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth, nuzzling her cheek. “You die tomorrow at sunset, my love,” he whispered to her. And he took her by the back of the neck, yanking her forward. With his free hand he opened his door and flung her out, slamming the door shut on her as she spun to face him. “No,” she uttered, face paling. She threw herself at his door, lifting a hand to pound on it. “Syaoran!” He let her pound, face dark. Once she was dead he was sure he would stop thinking about her. Stop seeing her face wherever he went. Stop thinking he could smell her in the air around him. It was only a matter of time before he returned to his normal self. But even as the pounding stopped and he was surrounded by silence he couldn’t help but turn on the nearest object in the room and lift it, tossing it angrily against his wall. The chair struck the wall with a loud crash, legs shattering, and falling to the ground in a mess of wood. Sunset. He would be there to personally condemn her to a fiery hell. |
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