Dear Sakura by Amazoness Duo and G.P. amazonessduo@hotmail.com pearsong1954@yahoo.com Waiting for the taxi to take him to the airport, Syaoran worked up the courage to tell his mother about the trip. Since he was a small child, the Illustrious Head of the August House of Li had frightened him. He grew up secretly envious of his sisters, whom Ieran indulged extravagantly. His portion of love seemed meager and sparse, and nothing he did could satisfy or please her. Her training in the martial and magical arts was harsh and exacting. Though not so thorough as to enable him to beat his cousin, he thought through his pain with a wince. Once he had asked her in tears why she was so mean to him. For a brief instant he saw her face soften with pity, but then the aloof and impassive countenance returned. She told him he was the successor to the House of Li, the most noble and powerful family in all of Hong Kong. Therefore, he must be strong, or the House would suffer when he rose to lead it. At first he had hated the training, and the pain, and the constant sense that what he did was never quite enough. Why couldn't he be like his sisters, enjoying the tender affection of a Mother, instead of a scorned and neglected son? In the end, he realized that only by measuring up to her lofty standards could he please her, and win her love. So, he dedicated his young life to perfecting the requisite skills to become the most powerful of sorcerers. When she sent him to Japan to investigate the presence of Clow Reed's long lost cards, he went determined to succeed. But did not. He had failed. Looking at the bed he shared with his wife, he felt a spasm of pure anger. She had bested him, capturing the Cards with ridiculous ease. A girl. A Japanese schoolgirl had turned out to be the successor to the mightiest magician in the entire world. Nearly overmastered by his fear of failure, he dreaded returning to Hong Kong. But instead of rage he met indifference, as if she regarded the turn of events as unsurprising and trivial. Indeed, when the girl showed up in Hong Kong his mother treated her as an honored guest, even bestowing a farewell kiss. It shocked and irritated him, but he knew enough to see that his mother now recognized the girl as Mistress of the Cards. Before leaving again for Japan, he asked her why she had conceded so much to such a silly girl. She looked at him with a rare fury, and for a moment he thought she would actually strike him. Angrily she told him never again to show such disrespect to the Mistress of the Cards. He was fortunate beyond his worth to act as her servant, she said, and from now on should remember his proper place. Crushed at first, he came to accept his role as Sakura's helper, and even found himself attracted to the girl. His love for the mysterious, fair- haired Yukito waned as he and Sakura captured and transmuted the Cards. The more the two Cardcaptors were together, the stronger his love waxed. It pleased him that she accepted his help, and he gloried in the knowledge that without him she would have failed time and again. It was obvious she needed him, and her frantic race to deliver the teddy bear before he flew back to Hong Kong showed her love as well. As love grew across the distance, he felt for the first time in his life the power he had always desired. Unlike his mother, Meiling, or even his teasing older sisters, Sakura depended on him. Yet it wasn't until the Daidouji girl mentioned marriage that the thought of making her his wife occurred to him. She was right, of course, for they were meant to be together. With that, the Mistress of the Cards was his, and everything came full circle. This marriage was right, despite what Meiling and their Grandfather and even his Mother thought. H had captured the heart of Clow Reed's successor. This was the mark of his true power. Of course, it had still been, well, difficult to break the news to his Mother. Thus, the marriage took place in Japan, with no notice given to his own kin. After a month's honeymoon, he returned to Hong Kong to face his Mother's wrath. Surprisingly, she showed no sign of anger; seemingly regarding what was done as done. She treated Sakura with the same cold aloofness as her son, which was, he thought, a fitting and proper relationship for a mother-in- law and her unworthy daughter-in-law. All seemed well until that meddlesome Daidouji girl had come and upset everything. The nondescript girl was at everyone's center of attention, and even merited a grander banquet than his own bride. Not that his clueless spouse would care about such things, he brooded. When he asked his sister why Mother had put on such a splendid banquet for some little rich girl from Japan, Fanren looked at him with a shocked contempt he had never seen her show. She said that Mother had done a long and complex water prophecy, and that the woman was of overwhelming importance to the House of Li. She asked him sharply that if Mother had so determined, did he think she deserved any less? He snorted his derision, remaining baffled by his family's treatment of a mere friend of his wife. But now he wondered about her importance, because it seemed she was at the root of his flighty wife's sudden disappearance. That would cast her in a new light entirely, for whoever stood in the way of the Heir to the House of Li was an enemy to be struck down without mercy. The righteous anger he had worked up vanished like a morning mist as he stood on the threshold of his Mother's study. Swallowing his fear as best he could, he knocked softly. After informing the idiotic flying teddy bear that he had to tell his Mother he was leaving, the so-called Beast of the Seal laughingly promised to rescue him if he didn’t return in half an hour. From deep within he heard his mother's silken, iron voice answer his knock, "Come in." Syaoran entered, eyes adjusting to the dim candlelight that illuminated the windowless room. She was hunched over a yellowed scroll etched in odd, shimmering characters. He felt his stomach tighten with the realization he was interrupting her research. Clearing his throat, he managed to stammer out, "Sakura is gone." His Mother slowly turned to face him, taking off a pair of delicate spectacles as she carefully regarded him. In a calm, quiet voice that demanded attention, she asked, "What do you mean, gone?" He looked at the floor, feeling the helplessness of childhood wash over him again. Trying to sound like a concerned husband baffled by a hopeless wife, he answered, "I don't know for sure, but I think she went back to Japan. I think it has something to do with the Daidouji girl." He peeked up and saw his Mother smiling at him. Like a snake ready to strike, he thought, and felt anger and fear at his helplessness. Smiling, she purred, "Yes, I know." Startled, he blurted out, "Then why didn't you tell me? Why did she go like that?" Gazing at him like a long-suffering teacher with a particularly dense pupil, she replied flatly, "As for the latter, I don't know, exactly. As for why I didn't tell you, it is for the good of the House that you not interfere. And for your good, too, for that matter." His anger overmastered his caution, and in a demanding voice he shot back, "How can she do this to me? She can't leave me like this." His Mother regarded him silently, letting his anger surge, and then dissipate, leaving him flustered and faintly ridiculous. She spoke in a neutral tone, again the patient teacher, "Syaoran, she should never have been here in the first place. If that woman can undo the damage you have wrought, a thousand banquets would not suffice for my gratitude." Syaoran starred with wide eyes and open mouth. Utterly at a loss for words, he slumped into the nearest chair, forgetting the etiquette of standing in the presence of the Head of the House. Had he not been so stunned, the trembling young man might have detected a trace of pity in her voice as she continued, "You thought you never asked for my permission to wed because I would have said no, as indeed I would have. But you yourself also knew it was wrong, or you would have stood up to me for what was right. That is how I raised you, and for all your flaws that is how you are. Your courage comes from doing what is right, but you married secretly, like a coward. That in itself doomed you both, but it was even worse than that. You were graced by fortune to be servant to the Mistress of the Cards. For someone of your meager strength, that was a far better portion than you deserved. But you wanted more. You lusted for power you could not have. That explains your attraction to Yue in his false form, and your selfish desire to make Clow Reed’s noble successor your humble wife. All this without a single thought of the consequences for her, or this House, or even yourself. It is said there is nothing more dangerous than a weak fool. You have proved the sage wise by your reckless actions." Syaoran burned with humiliation at his Mother's words. He stared at the floor, and replied in a voice laced with anger, "She loves me. And I love her." The cold fury of his Mother's rejoinder shook him, "Don't speak to me of 'love'. You have no conception of what you are saying. Sakura loves everyone. That is her nature. But you love her power, not her. That “Daidouji girl”, as you call her, could teach you a lesson in what real love is. She cheerfully sacrificed her life for the one she loves. What did you sacrifice? Like a greedy miser, you could only take what you longed for, without a thought or care for anyone but yourself." Ieran sighed, feeling the mounting weight of years and responsibilities. Her whispery voice was almost plaintive, "Why didn't you ask me? You at least owed me that much, though perhaps it would not have mattered in the end. How can a blind man see the cliff that approaches?' The two sat silent in the near dark for several long minutes. Syaoran fought back tears as he finally whispered, "I know she loves me." Ieran's voice was surprisingly gentle, "Pray that she knows her heart at last, and that it is not to late for all of us." Watching her son carefully, the woman rose and walked lightly to the door, locking it with a heavy metallic chungk. Striding to the center of the room, she stood in front of a golden bowl filled with water. Gesturing for her son to stand by the bowl across from her, she softly began to sing and chant. Syaoran, recognizing the words of a powerful and dangerous spell, felt a ripple of fear as his Mother waved her hands above the shimmering surface. The bowl began to vibrate and sing in odd harmony with her voice. The young man stood silent, in awe of the magic that billowed through the room. He felt an odd metallic tang in his mouth, and caught an overripe scent of something both sweet and foul. His eyes made out vague shapes in the water, flickering images like projections on a liquid movie screen. He strained to see the figures as they coalesced, and was startled to see Sakura dressed all in white, like mourner. Her sudden wailing chilled him, as if she were some mindless animal in agony. Like a madwoman she beat her hands bloody on a dark gravestone, and then he saw himself pulling her away as she keened and sobbed. The image shifted and blurred, and next he saw the Card Mistress dressed in an odd, half-finished costume, like that girl used to sew for her. The Cards danced about her, chained with iron, howling in pain as she swept the air with her staff. The staff had become a monstrous scythe, fiery and alive, infused with a cruel and vengeful will. Her magic roiled and blossomed in an obscene wave of sheer power. The emerald eyes were blank and dull, but amidst the terrible storm he heard her lifeless voice, "Bring her back to me." This vision swiftly gave way to a horrifying vista of destruction, as the house he had grown up in was torn apart by the furious tempest. Soon other buildings were swept into the maelstrom, and the entire City was consumed in a holocaust of wind and fire. The last image was a graveyard, stones and bodies torn from the groaning earth and swept into the throbbing, black sky. He fell back, faint and sick, staggering to the wall where he slumped to the floor and cowered in fear. His Mother struggled with the spell, and in a supreme effort banished the awful images to wherever they had come. Pale drained, she managed to walk imperiously and confront her son. Her voice was shaky but still commanding, "Since your ill-begotten marriage I have lived with this nightmare. Pray to all the spirits of our illustrious ancestors that it remains but a dream. Now, leave me." As her son walked unsteadily out the door, the woman dropped to the chair and held her head with shaking hands. Blanketed by the throbbing pain of a merciless headache, her mind was consumed in black hatred, "Damn you, Clow Reed. Damn you for all you have done." Syaoran walked down the hallway, the shock of what he had seen slowly wearing off. His anger surged anew, fed by a righteous rage at his abandonment by Sakura, and by the Daidouji woman's stealing her away. Under his breath the defiant husband resolved, "I'll bring her back. She loves me. She's mine."