Warning: This fan fic takes place post Acid Tokyo. If you have not read that far in the manga, don't spoil it for yourself and go on reading this! There are many character/plot spoilers just waiting to be found and confuse the hell out of you! And if you're sitting there thinking to yourself, "Have I read Acid Tokyo? Whish world is that again?"... then you haven't read it. Trust me. If you would like to read it however, please go here:
http://groups. msn. com/ TsubasaReservoirChroniclesOnlineManga and enjoy! You can thank me later! - (just remember to take out the spaces ;)
Another Warning: It says KuroFai in the story's summary for a reason. When it happens later, Don't say I didn't warn you. (otherwise, you can thank me later ;) haha)
Another Warning, Again: I'm just making worlds up. Its Tsubasa. That's how things work here. Oh yes, and I'm must apologize now for my sucky writing. I NEVER write in first person or in the present tence. I thought I'd try something new. Fai is a complex guy.
The Last Warning, I Promise: This story is... long. Just thought I would give you a little heads up. If you're a new reader - you'll be reading a while if you decide to stick with it! But I hope you enjoy it none the less! XD
Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah...
I don't own Tsubasa. CLAMP does.
CLAMP does however, own my soul.
If it's not CLAMP though I do own it. Steal from me and you die. :)
You may read now.
The Silver City
I hate him.
Staring at me with those crimson eyes that tell me that they can see the very secrets I've worked so hard to hide from everyone. I know he's watching. I know he knows me better than anyone has ever known me before. And I am going mad because he refuses to let me push him away. But I cannot push him away because I am not strong enough…
I can hear him across the room, shifting uncomfortably in his sleep. I'm sure he has nightmares just like the rest of us; flashes of his sorrow-filled past or the troubled instances of the memories we've all shared playing like a picture screen before his closed eyes. Sometimes I envy Syaoran-kun for having read that book; I wanted to know his story too. Maybe then I would have some idea as to what haunts his dreams.
Then again, I feel that if I knew more about him, I would love him even more. I already love him too much, and I hate myself for it. And I hate him for letting it get to that point.
And now I cannot even ask Syaoran-kun about it; what little piece of that dark man's past he had watched. Because Syaoran is not here anymore and has now been replaced by a sad and lonely boy of the same name and face. I don't know if we can ever get him back and I don't know if we should ever really want to.
I haven't slept in a week. I know its troubling Sakura-chan, but I can't help myself. Instead, I just lay here, staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows move slowly across the room as the moon makes its way across the sky. But I can't bring myself to close my eyes. My dreams are far too horrible for me to face right now, and I blame him for that as well.
"I know you're awake, Magician," his words pierce into my thoughts. "Go to sleep or I will come over there and make you."
I refuse to respond to this, so instead I lay silent, staring at the ceiling just as I have been doing for the last hour and hope for him to give up and go back to sleep.
"You'll only make things worse for the Princess if you do this to yourself. Stop being so selfish already," he grumbles and I hear the shuffle of blankets as he turns over once more. He says things just to hurt me it seems. Using Sakura's fragile feelings against me, I don't know why he sinks so low.
"And you haven't eaten today either," he adds.
If it were in my nature to snap back at him, I'd tell him to shut up and mind his own business. I'd tell him to leave me alone. Tell him its my life and I'll live it how I please. But he knows as well as I do that I would never say such things. He knows that I will just lay here and say nothing.
"I'd ask if you were hungry, but you're not talking to me anyway, are you?" he asks me after a long, deep yawn, turning in his bed yet again. He's so tall it's a wonder he fits into his bed at all, let alone how he makes himself comfortable enough to get to sleep. We've been sharing this room ever since we arrived here two weeks ago.
He is right, as usual though; I'm not talking to him. I don't even like to look at him. To think about him. But he's everywhere, and I cannot stand it.
"Suit yourself then," he mumbles after a long silence between us. "But in the morning, when the Princess asks you how well you slept, and you lie to her with that bittersweet smile of yours, I'm going to tell her everything."
"Go ahead," I want to scream at him, but of course I cannot even bring myself to say that. Especially because I know his threat is real. Kurogane does not lie. He does not cheat, or steal or deceive anyone. He is straightforward, honest, strong, and far more observant than I had anticipated upon our first meeting.
I hear him yawn again, shift twice more and then I cannot help but sigh a bit to my own relief as the sounds of his rhythmic breathing reaches my ears. That is the only sound I can hear until the sun comes up.
Time doesn't pass as slowly as it used to, back when I had nothing better to do than stare into nothingness and hope for the sun to rise. Back when I had made such a stupid wish; for someone to love me.
Back before I had ever met him.
"Let's hope, for your sake, the Princess doesn't ask you anything," he sneers at me, stretching his arms over his head and placing his feet onto the cool hardwood floor.
I don't even acknowledge him by turning to look at him. Instead I find myself fascinated by the colours washing across the white ceiling as an orange sunrise washes over this new, strange world we have come to.
The people we've met call this place "Ádiea," and though it seems to be one of the most advanced places we have yet to come to, I cannot help but sense its deeply rooted magic and ancient history living and breathing amongst the towering silver sky scrapers.
Mokona noticed immediately that we were near a feather; said it was somewhere in or around the city we had come to. And the people that we asked said our best bet would be to go to the country's palace and that if their king did not know, there might be something helpful in the palace's library. Other than those suggestions however, the people of the city seem to know nothing. My first thought was that it seemed strange for such a place with hovering vehicles and buildings made of glass to still have a palace and a king at all, but we of course haven't been here long enough to really understand much about their world.
From what we have seen so far, the world seems to be peaceful. It is a city of towering silver buildings and well manicured parks stuffed with large trees and blooming flowers. This was not the first world with such advancement that we had come to – the world of the firefly racers was quite advanced after all – but it was certainly the first one that gave me the distinct impression that both magic and technology existed together. Though, in all honesty I have yet to run across anyone or anything with what I would define as "magical" powers, I can still sense its presence.
And it is abnormally clean here. At least in other worlds there was some underlying grit. Some lingering smog on the air. Some unswept tile floor or undusted window sill. A cracked corner of an old shop window. Something. But here… here I am uneasy. Here, every child we pass is fresh-faced and smiling. Couples walk under the flowering trees in the parks holding hands and laughing. Students sit on the stairs of the public library studying their books. We have been here for two weeks, wandering the streets of the city of Ádiea looking for clues as to where we might find the feather and I have not seen a single tear shed, I have not heard a raised voice or sharp tongue.
"Good morning Fai-san," Syaoran-kun says to me as Kurogane and I make our way into the restaurant downstairs. He is sitting by the window with his chin tucked into his knees, watching the people pass by on the street outside. He greets Kurogane as well but I don't think he looks directly at either of us.
We've been staying in an older hotel on the eastern side of the city. Its obviously the poorer side of town, but still strangely clean and upbeat. Syaoran-kun and Sakura-chan each were given their own rooms, yet Kurogane and I are forced to share. There are many reasons for this I suppose. We aren't sure how long we will be in this world, so the money we received for all our old clothing might not last long enough. We were pleased with how much we received for it all; by far the most we had ever gotten. It was awkward, wanting to thank Syaoran-kun for coming up with the idea again, then realizing that it wasn't the Syaoran before us who had originally said it.
I sit at the table, scanning over the room. It's relatively empty, save for an elderly couple eating breakfast across the restaurant and the young waiter attending to them. It doesn't take long for him to notice my and Kurogane's arrival and he promptly comes to ask us what we'd like to eat.
He works here every morning and has finally come to expect my polite refusal of anything with substance. Syaoran-kun has already finished most of his breakfast so he too denies an order while Kurogane orders a glass of fruit juice and some sort of egg dish. I'd never been one to think Kurogane was much of a juice drinker, but he has mentioned how delicious this world's fruit seems to be. It was Sakura-chan however who first noticed this and insisted that everyone try something.
"Is Sakura-chan still asleep?" I ask Syaoran.
"I assume so. She hasn't come down yet. Neither has Mokona," he shakes his head and then reaches for the last of his strawberries on his plate and pops it into his mouth. A small drop of bright red juice remains on his lower lip and I cannot help but notice how much it resembles fresh blood. It truly upsets me that I now have come to think like this and I force myself to look away from him and suppress the urge to lick my lips.
Kurogane has sat across from me at the table and looks at me with stern eyes. "I'm eating my breakfast and when I finish, you and are going to go have a talk, upstairs," he says firmly, giving me no room to argue.
Syaoran shifts uncomfortably and looks down at the floor, knowing just as well as I do what he means by this.
And me? I say nothing. He'll drag me up there and hold me down if that's what it takes, and Kurogane knows that I am aware of this. He's proven it several times over by now and I'd rather not waste my energy fighting him about it. So I simply sit there and wait.
He must have seen the look on my face just now. I hate admitting it. I refuse to ever say anything to them… but I am hungry.
His eggs come soon and his juice as well; deep red juice that fills the large glass to its brim. I'm sure that he is fully aware I am staring by now, watching the ruby red liquid pour over his lips. First Syaoran with the strawberry and now this. I can't take it anymore.
"I'll be upstairs," I stand up and nod to him, then turn to leave the room. But not before I see his eyebrows raise at me in surprise.
I hear him set the glass back down on the table and his voice follows after me, "I will be up in a moment."
I don't honestly know how much I care. It hurts so much that this is how I see him now. A snack. A meal. Something to quench my thirst.
Why did he have to do this to me?
Why couldn't he have just let me die?
Doesn't he understand things would all be so much better that way? He must know that I am nothing but a burden; an jarring bump in the road or an itch you just can't seem to scratch.
"Oh! Good morning Fai-san!" I hear Sakura's warm voice half a second before I realize I'm about to bump into her.
"And good morning to you as well, Sakura-chan," I smile in return, giving her a small bow of my head.
"Where are you going?"
"Back to my room," I say. "I've just finished breakfast, so I thought I'd relax a bit."
She has to know that I'm lying straight to her face, but it doesn't seem to bother her. Instead, she offers me a smile before continuing on her way and says "see you soon," and Mokona who is perched on her shoulder giggles to me and waves.
It is nice to see them smile again, but they are no longer the naive and innocent smiles they used to be. They seem to have aged years in just a matter of months and that saddens me greatly.
Out the window of our fourth floor hotel room I can see most of the eastern and southern parts of the city. The past few days the lot of us spent some time in the public library reading over history books we thought might be of help. None of them have been thus far, and I am not surprised by this. After all, the townspeople have said that we either need to ask the king of their country or look in the library of the palace.
The public library has been useful however in gaining knowledge of this world's history, despite how little any of the books seem to say. Much like the odd cleanliness of the world, there is very little mention of any sort of conflict ever having occurred here. No talks of wars or enemies, not even a fire or earthquake worth mentioning. Or so they seem to read.
But perfection, as anyone knows, is nothing but a myth. I suppose that is why I am almost looking forward to our meeting with the king this afternoon. He had been away for several months it seemed and returned home last night. I have a hunch that if anyone is going to know anything about this strangely perfect world, it will be him; King Ienyn A'riûs.
The sound of an opening door startles me. I really must have been concentrating, as even with my powers cut in half now, I can usually sense the presence of anyone approaching.
Or maybe I'm just used to him by now.
He stands there, across the room, rolling up the left black sleeve of his jacket and saying nothing. Just looking at me and deciding if he should come any closer, or let me come to him. I came up here of my own will after all. It would not be unlike him to test me. To wait and see if I will finally go to him.
I won't though. It is his fault that I am this way to begin with so why should I be the one to give in. If I go to him, it will make it seem as though I have accepted it.
I haven't. But I have no other choice.
"It's alright to tell me that you're hungry," he says. "I'm doing this willingly. Because I want to. I want you to get stronger…" his voice trails off and his crimson eyes fall to the floor. "I want you to live because… you want to live, and not for the sake of anyone else. And I refuse to let you kill yourself just because you think that will make things easier."
He's said things like this to me before. I suppose he still doesn't understand… if I die then his life would be so much better. Not for me, but for him. I could make his life better if I just faded away, and that would make me truly happy.
"Drink," he snaps at me, clearly noticing my wandering, thoughtful eyes and he shoves his wrist at my face. Thick red blood is already flowing from his veins where he has cut himself and I am quick to lap it up, careful not to let a single drop go to waste.
I have never tasted the blood of anyone else before, but I truly believe that even if I had, no one else would compare. Thick, warm and tangy it was like my ambrosia. Just a single taste was enough to drive me mad, and I knew that if it would not kill him, I could drink him dry in a matter of moments if I wanted.
"Stop," he says gruffly, but its so quiet I can hardly hear it. "Fai!" he pulls at my hair, "that's enough for now," and I finally let him pull his arm away from me. "You can have some more later." His eyes look at me; concerned. He has pulled his arm to his chest now, raw and red from my vigorous assault.
I had not realized I had been so forceful. "I… I'm sorry," I say to him. They are my first spoken words to him in several days now.
He is quick to notice this as well and gives me a stiff, "So you're talking to me now?" as he raises an eyebrow.
"I didn't mean to be so rough," I continue. "I'm sorry…"
"It's alright. You're hungry. Give me an hour or so and you can have some more."
"I'll just wait until lunch," I argue.
"Fine then. Lunch it is," he nodes. "Shall we go? The Princess should nearly be done with her breakfast by now and its quite a walk to the palace."
Already done with her breakfast? Had we been up here that long? "Sure," I agree and I follow him out of the room, watching him tenderly rub at his wrist.
As expected, Syaoran is already up and waiting patiently for us at the door. Sakura is as well, keeping a safe distance to this new and unfamiliar boy with the face of the one she thinks she loves.
"To the palace! To the palace! To the big, silver, shiny palace!" Mokona hums as we begin to walk. It's still quite early and yet the air is already warm and comfortable. Big fluffy clouds are already rolling lazily across the sapphire sky and a soft breeze wisps through the air. It smells like what I would imagine a proper spring should smell like, though I cannot recall every experiencing the season before.
Even the weather here is perfect…
"Don't you find it odd?" Syaoran-kun looks up at me with his observant, amber eyes. "Every day we have been here, the weather has been perfect."
"Yes," I agree; glad not to be the only one who thinks so. "Two weeks without so much as a cold day or a gust of strong wind does seem a bit odd."
"Do you think it has something to do with my feather?" Sakura-chan chimes in.
"It's possible," I shrug. I would like to say that was my suspicions already, but in all that we had learned so far about the world, I couldn't honestly say there was any evidence to suggest that. If this world were truly "perfect" then the combination of this weather, the cleanliness, the complete lack of conflict and all the smiling faces would make absolute sense.
But I've had my doubts of this "perfection," the moment we arrived.
Yay! You made it through chapter one! Congratulations! I hope you decide to continue reading.
Reviews are appriciated!