A/N: *Shocked* You didn't actually think I'd leave it there, did you?! I'm just getting to Kaho.... But this is seriously the last instalment. Finally it's over!! *rejoices* Oh, and big thanks to X Japan, who've become my inspiration as of late.

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Epilogue: Étude

Étude: n. short musical composition for a solo instrument, esp. intended as a technical exercise.

Syaoran's POV, five months later.

I find it very strange how life can change so very drastically because of just one, perfectly ordinary person. One piece decides to attach itself to the puzzle that was before then complete and suddenly everything starts to form cracks and splinters and you find yourself looking out and seeing that puzzle crumble before your very eyes. It happens at very unexpected and unwanted times, too, but maybe that's just because you've never seen it coming and it takes you by surprise. After all, it wouldn't be as dramatic if you saw it looming on the horizon; you wouldn't be left quacking in your shoes from the force of it all.

I sigh and flick a snowflake from where it landed on my eyelashes. London is unusually cold for the season. The people walking around me huddle tightly into their winter coats and parkas, as I am, trying to keep their scarves in place so their noses would not freeze from the cold. All of them are hurrying somewhere, to someone one and at the same time trying to stay in the festive mood. I just stroll, quietly watching them pass me by while trying to fend off the frigid air from leaking underneath my clothes.

It's nice to have somebody to come home to, especially since Christmas and New Year's so close on the doorstep. Everybody's trying to keep a jolly mood, though for some reason that doesn't get transferred to me; the shame, Sakura wants me to enjoy this holiday. But I suppose it makes sense to forget all your worries and just be happy with the ones you cherish, even if just this once. You've suffered enough for one year, seen too much, why not forget? Sure, the memories would be ever lasting, but the reprieve would be nice, too.

It also strikes me as funny when I look at these people, hurriedly bustling by, and they would seem so animate. That woman, heavily loaded with hand-made bags and boxes, looking through the store window; that boy over there pointing to another store where a set of deluxe train tracks complete with a miniature stream engine and five brightly-painted carts, sits on display; the old man at the curb of another shop, sitting in his dingy coat and holding a metallic cup while some generous passer-by's drop him a coin or two... To me they seem as if they're all actors on this elaborately detailed stage, carelessly playing out their roles without even knowing they're doing it. Do they know anything beyond their designated roles, I wonder? Does that child know how much the old man's suffering? Does the old man realize what sorts of things go on in the boy's head? I'd doubt he'd care.

It's strange how you never pay much attention to other's problems until you have a taste of your own. I wouldn't be observing people like I am right now if *that* didn't happen, I might not have cared either way. But now that that experience is behind me, now that I can look back on it, as much as I loath to, I think I've grown to appreciate the troubles every person in the world has to face. I can't call that bravery, more like desperation because we have no choices when trouble comes — that's why they always strikes the hardest, you never expect them.

The sky grows a bit darker, the clouds churning together. I spare them a glare and quicken my pace. The cold and the snow are bad enough, it would be even worse if it rained at the same time as well. I tug the lapels of my winter coat tighter around my throat and tread home.

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I can't say that I liked Kaho Mitsuki, can't say that I hated her either, she was just another person in my life that I'd rather not have met. But whether I liked her or not, her memory remains, not for what she was but for what she helped to do.

She was Eriol's private tutor back when we were in our early teens. I didn't see her much then, only occasional glimpses when she'd call Eriol in from a break, and I didn't care either. She was just some woman that had to walk in and disrupt a perfectly good life, she just had to come and take away my best friend. But Eriol, he worshipped her, I think, more so when she died. He'd used to talk forever about how beautiful she was or how wonderful and it would sicken me, the change that she brought in him. What was so special about her anyway?

Because of her we didn't spend enough time together. We both had prepping school and then social gatherings afterwards, and when she came there wasn't even time on the weekends. He'd go to see her nearly everyday and bring her expensive presents. And I know I must sound selfish but that wasn't fair. Eriol was my best friend, not hers, so why did she have more of him?

The day she died, I think my friend died, too. There was an accident with a stray carriage or rogue horses and she was in the middle of it. Needless to say, she didn't make it by the time doctors arrived. She was gone! I couldn't be happier. Only problem was that Eriol was with her when she died. He saw her with his eyes as she breathed her last and that frightened him, I think. He used to talk about how wonderful she was, how much she taught him about life, but only with her death did he really come to appreciate it.

I still can't understand what it is that he learned. But he changed so much after that, blossomed, you could say. For that, I'm grateful to her.

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It takes a moment before the large door before opens with a tiny 'squeak' and I am bustled into the warm interior of the manor. The portly maid smiles at me and motions to take off my coat and hat. I do so, ruffling my hair into their proper disarray; I always did hate wearing hats because they made my hair flat. Not a minute later Sakura all but runs into the room. Laughingly, she throws her arms around me, kissing my numb from cold cheek.

"My, my, Syaoran, did you really turn into an icicle out there?" She asks teasingly and I smile for the first time that day. Her innocence never ceases to amaze me. Gods, I love her.

"Nearly," I reply. "You wouldn't mind too much warming me up, would you?" I nuzzled the side of her neck where I know she's a bit ticklish.

"No," she replied with a giggle, " but certainly not at the front door where people can get an eyeful and not before dinner."

"Yes, yes," I say with a kiss and move deeper into the mansion; Sakura returns to helping the maids prepare dinner.

I head straight for the stairs and to the second door on the right. I know Tomoyo would be behind that door, as she recently caught the flu and wouldn't be able to move around much. I hesitate a moment before pushing my way through, smiling in what I think is a genial manner at her. She's half-sitting on the bed, a quilt and embroidery tools spread on her lap.

"Hello," I greet her with a soft kiss on the cheek.

"It's cold out?" She asks.

"Aa."

"Then it was very cruel of Sakura to let you go out in those conditions," she said with a smile.

I nod, agreeing fully. "I had to take care of some matters, though." Tomoyo doesn't question farther and clasps her hands together. "How are you holding up?"

She manages to smile, though I wonder if it's genuine and murmurs a soft "better". I don't know whether to believe her or not. What happened that day nearly six months ago shook her pretty badly. I've noticed the change, though she fights valiantly not to show it. Sakura can see it, too, and it kills her that she can't do anything about it.

The memory of that day – night, whatever – still haunts me, when I let it. I'll never forget the sickening feeling in my stomach and the suddenly all too loud silence in that dreary place. I'll never forget wanting to sink into the floorboards when the minutes kept on ticking by and there was still no sound, no life. It scared me more than I'd care to admit. I remember running up the stairs, Sakura on my toe and sobbing. I remember the landing and seeing Tomoyo on the ground, eyes wide, mouth open as if screaming silently. I remember seeing the blood on her dress — there was so much of it, everywhere — and then Sakura was throwing up behind me. And then she looked at me and I swear I could see Death in all her glory in Tomoyo's eyes. I was so very scared; I've never seen anything like it before. And then I saw the body sprawled upon her lap... Eriol...

After that things passed way too quickly. There was the police entering the place, shouting orders and then Touya and Lord Yukito at Sakura and Tomoyo's side. There were doctors, too, and Tomoyo was screaming something but I couldn't comprehend what and the medics were trying to remove... his... body from her grasp...

There were investigations after that of course. Apparently the late Lord Daidouji had had a bit of a gambling problem when he was still living. He died, though the authorities couldn't determine how. And Sonomi Daidouji had had a medical history as well; some mental condition the doctors wouldn't tell us. Maybe that's why things turned out the way they did? Maybe she was driven over the edge because she couldn't control her sickness anymore? I just wonder whether I can forgive her even though I know she's not entirely at fault.

We all moved back to London soon after that; I doubt either of the girls could handle staying there much longer. I could see that Sonomi's death was devastating to Tomoyo. She still did not tell us how that came to be but it was pretty obvious anyway. Sonomi's body lay broken on the first floor, directly below the broken stair railing; the decayed wood gave way under her weight. But that did not explain why Eriol was shot and Tomoyo gave forth nothing.

It's been five months since then. It still amazes me how Tomoyo can let go of things so easily. After all that's been done to her, she still loves her mother, still mourns for her. I wouldn't be able to do that if I were in her situation.

I squeeze her hand, letting her know that I'm still here. "Where's Eriol?" I ask gently.

Her eyes glaze and I can tell that she's fighting not to show her smile. "You know perfectly well were he is."

I sigh and get up, giving one final tug on her hand. "Aa, you're right, I do. I'll see you later at dinner, won't I?"

Tomoyo nods at me and gestures for me to get going. "You wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

"Yes, yes, he does have a nasty tendency of being sadistically evil."

We both laugh and then I leave her with her embroidery, heading for the library in the wing of the mansion. The library has always been Eriol's favourite place to be, I guess the silence helps him to distil some of the painful things. As I enter the library, a soft glow spills over the carpet to land on my feet. There's a large, rich velvet armchair standing before the fireplace; his favourite place to sit. There were times when he was younger that he would spend entire days curled up on that chair, engrossed in Baron or Shelley.

I walk around to face him, ready to scold him but I wasn't prepared to see him asleep with Kero, Sakura's pet cat, curled up on his lap. I have to smile; the image is just too adorable. His spectacles are askew on the bridge of his nose and he's holding a book with one hand, a finger wedged between pages as a bookmark. Carefully I take off his glasses and place them on the little reading table beside the chair. I smirk one last time, storing this moment at the back of my head for future blackmail, and turn to leave. Before I can do that, however, he stirs.

"Syao-chan?" He asks sleepily. His eyes are still glazed with whatever dream he'd been having before.

"You wife if getting restless," I reply, simply.

He looks down at his hand, where a golden band graces one finger. He holds up his hand so the soft glow from the fire catches the gold and makes it shine.

"Is it really real?" Eriol asks quietly. I have to smile at this; I had to wonder this same question many times myself in the past five months, and I doubt that I'm certain of the answer.

I smirk again and head out the door. "Quite," I throw to him behind me.

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It is all a game, maybe. Everything is just one big act that everybody unintentionally participates in. Heh. Life has this funny way of being ironic without meaning to. Change one piece of the puzzle, add another and suddenly everything else changes as well.

~Ende Epilogue

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Hmm.... Ending Notes: now that it's over and I look back on it, the story turned out quite a bit like I had originally planned (which was months before I actually started writing it). I'm dissatisfied with some parts, most; I dun think I've focussed enough on the ideal of Càrnival, I should have, but I didn't want to bore you with all the psychological stuff. And I also know that some parts weren't at all realistic, like how the women were treated during the era, but it's an AU after all, so I can twist with that a bit. But overall it wasn't that bad, and for that I'm glad. Except for this chapter, but it was rather difficult for me to get into Syaoran's head, which is why it took me so long to come up with this *coffcrapcoff*

Thakies go out to everyone who've sent in comments, especially to Sakura Scout, SVZ, AznSage (you wouldn't mind if I sent you a fan art, would you?) and KyteAura (I luv u ppls!) (There are too many names to mention and I dun wanna seem choosy, though these gals have been with this story from the very beginning).

Well, Adios for now, and hope to hear from you on my next ficcie. (For any of you that are wondering when I'm going to post it: I'll do that as soon as I finish planning at least fifteen chapters and write one more one-shot fic for Eriol. Oi, I have to write less seriously next time...)