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."