Author's note: So here it is, my first ever Tsubasa Chronicles fanfic. However, 'tis not the last! So now that we're getting a little variety in my stories, I urgently request all of you to tell some people you know to read and review. I accept anonymous reviews now. Oh, and check my profile atleast once a week for log updates. I keep my story progress in logs on my profile so as not to keep you all guessing what's going on. Well, read and enjoy!!
Post-note (not to be mistaken with Post-it notes, which I shouldn't have to put a disclaimer on): This is sort of based off of the song "Once Upon A December" from Anastasia, a wonderfully wierd Disney movie about the Russian Princess Anastasia who is rumored to have disappeared while enroute to the gallows (or somthing like the gallows...it's been a while.) for those of you who have never seen it. I loved that movie when I was little, even though my mother never bought it for me. It's sort of sappy at some points, but it's cute.
Sakura turned in her sleep, her beautiful features twisted in a look of discomfort, like something was very much bothering her. Hair the color of milk chocolate feathered around her on her fluffy white pillow drenched in sweat. She looked almost in pain. She let out and aggitated shout in her sleep and turned again. She just couldn't figure out this puzzle!
Spinning round and round in a field laced with dandelions and white daisies, someone close behind her, but when she stopped spinning and turned to smile at them, they were no where to be seen. Spinning, spinning again with somebody she ought to have known, but they were not really there. Whoever it was felt very close to her heart, if only she could see them!
The door flew open and Syaoran stepped in, concern etched into his dark features. Mokona was hopping behind him, saying in hardly hushed tones, "Sakura is having a bad dream! Bad dream!"
A birthday party with a reserved guest list, and only one personal friend. The rest were other royalty or family. She'd never had a true close friend before, that treated her like a person instead of just a princess. When she turned to smile at him and thank him for coming, he was gone. It was a he, right?
"We know, Mokona," Fai said easily, lifting the energetic fluff ball from the floor in an effort to save him from getting stepped on. Kurogane was rubbing his eyes, looking thoroughly pissed off. "Aw, did we disturb your beauty rest," Fai teased.
Running towards a building, a picnic basket in hand. She had a plan for that afternoon, and it involved making someone she loved fall in love with her too. When she reached into the pocket of her dress to pull out his picture, she saw a background with no person. She frowned. But that wasn't right...She knew his picture was in that pocket. Then who was she declaring her love to, if he did not exist?
"Shut up," he growled menacingly. Fai only laughed.
"Yessir!"
"Mokona wants to help!!" Fai struggled to keep a grip on Mokona, who was fighting his hold with all his strength.
"Shut up, you damned rice ball!"
Mokona stopped struggling and whispered loudly, "He's not a very good morning person."
"IT'S NOT MORNING!!!"
"Shut. UP," Syaoran hissed in a loud whisper. Sakura turned again.
"Let's go, Mr. Grouch," Fai whispered, and he pushed Kurogane out of the room, Mokona at their heels, before Kurogane could protest to being called 'Mr. Grouch'.
Standing on a balcony, waving happily to the crowd. She loved her people, and she knew they felt genuine loyalty to her. She giggled as people shouted her name, and she tried to smile to each individual person, but it was so hard! She saw a familiar face in the crowd and her heart lit up. Her eyes sparkled as they danced across the crowd, trying to relocate them so she could shout their name so they knew she could see them waving. She froze, shocked. She couldn't find them anywhere. But she knew! She knew, they had been there a split second ago! She couldn't find them in the crowd.
"Idiots," Syaoran muttered, but he smiled slightly despite himself. Makona was the one who had woken him up. He walked carefully around the foot of the bed and sat gently on the edge of the bed beside Sakura, his childhood friend that had no recollection of him at all.
The brown- haired teenager sighed, placing his hand gently over her clenched fist.
"Sakura..."
A bright, explosive beam of light as the ruins began to collapse. "SAKURA," a voice yelled, fearful and familiar, somehow. She was scared, alone. She couldn't make out heads nor tails of the rubble caving in around her. She was trapped, no where to run. And she still heard that muffled voice calling her name, searching. This couldn't be happening, could it? Maybe this is how she lost her memory...
He said her name into the darkened room, more for the sake of saying her name than to awaken her. He looked down into her gentle features to see they had relaxed, the annoyed, upset features melting away to reveal the sleeping princess at peace. He smiled and used his other hand to pull the covers back over her, for they had been kicked away by her constant tossing throughout the night.Below is right hand he could feel her fist releasing, and he caressed her hand lightly before resuming his adjusting of her blankets.
"Sweet dreams, Sakura," he whispered before standing up. He smiled down at her sleeping form and felt his heart beating ten times faster within it's cavity in his chest. Some things never changed. She was as much like a loving child as ever, and he still felt that need to protect her, even from those things which none can protect her from. She still made him feel nervous just looking at her.
A soft warm bed, but it wasn't hers. She felt as though every part of her body had been stretched, her muscles ached so badly, and her mind felt oddly blank. But she was so tired, she was convinced she could sleep on forever and it wouldn't make a difference. She remembered her brother and her kingdom and a few other things, but she couldn't remember so much. It was as though entire years had been lost in her memory. She opened her eyes and saw her thin hands were clutching the covers around her, and they were in no way at all damaged. She wondered if she hadn't imagined the pain.
"Sakura," the familiar voice was back, saying her name so warmly. But she could not place it, she looked up into the now- familiar face and frowned. "Who...are you??" It was the first time she'd met him. It was her first encounter with the person she now took for granted some days, always being by her side when she needed him to be there.
"What," he asked. He looked scared, almost sick. She could tell he was shocked.
"Who are you," she repeated slowly, her voice very soft due to her exhaustion. Something seemed to dawn on him, because he soon masked his confusion and smiled slightly.
"You're safe now, Your Highness."
He must be one of the people of my kingdom. But who is he? He seems so familiar...
She knew who he was now of course, Syaoran. How could she not know who he was now, even though she still couldn't place his face with her beloved kingdom. But she must give it time, they still had other feathers to collect, right?
"Syaoran-kun," he heard her mutter, and he froze, terrified that she'd catch him checking in on her. He didn't want her to think anything was wrong, that they'd heard her frustrated calls. He took a step back, panicking slightly for fear he had awoken her, before realizing her eyes were still closed. Her brows her knit together in worry and confusion.
"Sakura," he whispered softly, sadly. He felt like an idiot for panicking like that. Sakura slept quite soundly lately, sometimes not waking till noon time.
And she was back, back in that cold, cramped pile of rubble. She was trapped, a large stone trapped her from getting up and digging her way out. She couldn't move an inch, and she felt as though it were crushing her lungs. She couldn't see anything, and the voice was distant now. Can't you tell I'm here, she thought desperately. Can't you see me stuck here? Sakura could feel someone's arm around her, protecting her from the rubble. She was breathing in dirt and dust and bits of rock floating in the air, but she could smell the somehow familiar scent of cinamon on the air also. She felt as though she was choking. Where was he? He'd never kept her waiting before, he'd always been right there. Always three steps ahead, pulling her along and keeping her out of harms way. But who was holding her now?
"Syaoran-kun," she muttered again, softly. He felt guilty, eavesdropping like this. But another part of him wanted to know why she was calling for him, oblivious to the fact that he stood right beside her, a frightened boy who had given up his most cherished posession, her friendship, in order to save her. "Oh, Syaoran-kun, where on earth are you?"
He took another step back, a wave of fear and sadness and guilt washing over him all at once, drowning him in the realization of what she had just said. He wished so badly he could smooth the creases in her forehead caused by worry and curiosity and frustration. He leaned over and held her hand for a short moment before letting it lay against the pillow beside her head once again. He stood now in the door frame of her room, watching her with the weight of his deal settling somewhere in his abdomen.
Syaoran knew she'd remembered once before already, a long time ago now, and the space witch had removed her memory again, reminding him that he couldn't have their relationship back even if Sakura remembered on her own. What would happen if she remembered again? What if...they developed the same relationship over again? He shook his head. He was being stupid. She was the princess. The moment they collected her last feather and went back home, she'd forget he even existed, and she'd go back to being the sweet princess loved by her people and brother again.
But Sakura wasn't the type to 'just forget' anybody. He sighed, tearing his gaze away from her and shutting the door softly behind him. He was acting like a love sick school boy. Meanwhile, he had more important things to do, like find the location of Sakura's next feather.
Syaoran sighed, dragging his feet along as he made his way to his room, hoping the others had already gone back to sleep. It wasn't really the fact that she'd just forgotten him that depressed him so much. He knew why and how and that it had been his choice. It was the only way to save her. What depressed him most was seeing her, day to day, and facing each day with the living reminder that, for as much as she hadn't changed one bit, everything had changed. And it had been so easy, it had just taken saying "yes" instead of saying "no".
Author's note: Well, that's that. Poor Syaoran. I've always been very drawn towards him. And I can't seem to portay Fai's character properly, ugh! How aggrivating. I think this is the first story I've put on that I actually had to cut down on the size of paragraphs instead of draw them out! I'm proud of that for some reason...
So what was the point of this? I guess it was to remind us not to take our friendships for granted, not to take anything for granted. We never really think about it, but the reality is that they could be taken away within a blink of an eye. Maybe not because of the space witch and some deal you made with her, but by disease, depression, seperation, moving, lying, and losing a trust that takes forever to rebuild. You only get one shot. Make it count. Uh, since when do I add the moral of the story in the notes? Isn't it sorta your job to figure out? -sighs- It is indeed a mystery.
Post- note: The only part of "Once Upon A December" that I remember clearly without looking up lyrics is Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember, and a song someone sings once upon a December. Someone holds me safe and warm. Horses prance through a silver storm. Figures dancing gracefully across my memory. So that's the part I focused on. Besides, that was always my favorite part, and even though I think they were referring to Anastasia's grandmother or mother, it always felt like it should be more of a romantic song. Someone should totally make a Tsubasa AMV on YouTube with it, that's all I'm saying.