Memories

Witch-mistress-animaru

A/N: Idle time. Questioning the wisdom of resuming my writing here.

11: Home

Touya swung the door open despite her protests. She wasn't ready for this, nor would she ever be prepared. The door of the VIP waiting room was a one-way mirror, and she could see, clearly outlined through the glass, about half a dozen people waiting inside. For her.

The old familiar panic swept over her, and she nearly shouted, "no, please," as she tried to shake off this stranger's hand over her arms.

He dropped her hand, staring at her with concern as she struggled to remove his grip. "I — I can't do this, please. I…I don't know you, I don't know any of you!"

"But you said it yourself, Sa… you said you remember me." His voice was hoarse, and his eyes never left her face even though it looked as if he couldn't bear to see her in this state. Pain laced those grey eyes, and she suddenly felt remorse for causing him so much pain.

"How do I know if it's for real? It might have been a dream, all of it!" At last, she managed to free herself from his grasp, and she bolted. "I…I'm sorry!" she shouted as she ran.

"What's wrong?" The door opened and revealed Fujitaka. "What's taking you so long?"

"She…she panicked. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have scared her…shit, in her state… she'd get lost."

"Where did she go?" Fujitaka's voice went up several notches. He looked around and saw his long-lost daughter rounding a corner not far from him. Please, let her stay safe, he prayed as he dashed after her, with Touya trailing behind him.

They were gone, she thought dully as the footsteps bypassed her hiding place. They wouldn't find her now, not unless she decided to show herself.

She knew they were coming after her, and she knew she had to outwit them, for she couldn't have outran them. She sat in that corner, not knowing what possessed her. She must have truly lost it. But facing all those people…she didn't think she could have handled it.

She curled deeper into herself, willing the memories to assail her now, so she'd know what to say to them when she faced them, but none came.

The enormity of the situation overwhelmed her, and silent tears trickled down her face once more. She was alone in a strange country without any means to contact Red and Rand; she had little money with her — her life savings would last her only a few days here. She didn't have enough for a fare back home on such short notice.

While she could understand the local language, she didn't know if she could speak it, and she didn't trust herself. She wanted the safety of their inn, but most of all she wanted the assurance that everything was real and she hadn't dreamed it.

Her memories earlier had frightened her more than she thought. She was torn between wanting and not wanting to remember, and she closed her eyes and willed her thoughts away, wishing her existence was just imaginary, and she could just disappear had she wished it.

"Call me when you find her. I'm getting out of here." Syaoran strode out of the room, frustrated. His long-lost wife, as it appears, had disappeared again in a fit of panic. It had been two hours since she'd been gone, and everyone has been scouring the area to find her. He had a very important date in a few hours, and this was delaying him more than he could afford.

Yet even as he walked away, his thoughts strayed back to the stranger who was his wife. She heard her shout, heard her voice hitch up in panic, and finally heard her fading footsteps as she left. He didn't know what to make of it. Hell, even during their marriage, he hardly knew her, what now that she'd gone and lost her memories?

He walked in silence, brooding over the downturn of events in his life.

That's when he heard it — a sob, quiet and distinctively female. He paused, locating the source of the noise.

It was coming from a backed corner of the hallway. There were several cardboard boxes thrown carelessly over a trash bin nearby, and he brushed past it. Sure enough, there was a woman crouched down, hugging herself. She was sobbing as quietly as she could, her shoulders shaking pathetically.

It took him a moment to recognize her, with her face hidden and her hair falling all over the place. It was Sakura.

She heard the footsteps approach, but she couldn't summon the power to turn away. She sat there, numb, trying to forget everything.

She looked up to see the face of a stranger looming above her. He looked strangely familiar…then she remembered. She saw his picture, the husband she'd left behind two years ago to go to England, for reasons she had no idea.

But then, he was a businessman, and she had no idea how he lives his life, so perhaps it was only normal for her to have left even just a month after their marriage.

"Don't run." He said tersely when Sakura lifted her face to look at him. "Please...We've been looking everywhere for you," he added softly, and she realized he was trying to calm her.

"I…don't really know you, do I?" She mumbled. "I don't know any of you."

Silence met her words, and she plowed on.

"It's all just... Just go away, will you? I'd find my way back to England, somehow." Everything about this country overwhelmed her, much more this formidable stranger before her.

"Look," he said, nonplussed, "They'd find you anyway. Don't you see? Your family practically owns this part of the country. Believe me, they'd find you in no time."

She didn't respond, choosing to keep silent in the hopes he'd go away eventually.

He looked at her grimly when she still refused to answer. "Let's go," he approached her and took her arm.

"Please…everything…everyone is scaring me. Please." He loosened his grip, but he didn't let go until she stood up.

They walked in silence, his careful guidance leading her back to the room she wished to escape earlier.

If not for her outward appearance, Syaoran would never have connected this meek woman to the shark he married.

His gut tightened, wishing she'd say something, anything to break the silence. It made him uneasy, the way her shoulders were hunched in fear and how she kept her eyes downcast. Somehow, it annoyed him, and yet part of him…part of him wanted to protect her, take care of her, somehow.

Yamero, he thought, disgusted with himself. He needed to remember his plans to divorce her once her memories return. Then he'd marry Yana and all would be well in his world once more.

"What...what do I call you?"

The question caught him off-guard. "What?" He asked, turning to look at her. She kept walking, her head bowed.

"It's just…strange. I'm supposed to know you, yet I don't, not really... I can't even explain how I could understand your strange language, and how I knew…that Touya…his name is Touya, isn't it?"

"Yes," he replied curtly, not at all sure where their conversation was headed.

"I just knew he was my brother. There were…flashes, I think. More like blurs, and I…it scared me. When I came here I didn't think…I did not believe my brother…I mean, Red, Jared Niels, the man I knew as my brother in England." She was babbling, but she kept on.

Syaoran kept silent, unsure of what else could be said regarding her circumstances.

"The thing is…I remembered my brother, but…I can't remember you."

"Not much to remember," he replied. "We were together for but six months."

"But before that?" Her voice grew agitated, tears streaming down her face once more. "What about then? How long had we known each other before we wed? I…I want to remember. Please, help me remember. I don't even know what kind of woman I was before…before I became Venice Niels."

Syaoran was spared an answer as they stopped in front of the door.

She wondered about him silently as she let him lead her back. The photograph had been a mere washed-out version of this man. His eyes were smoldering amber, his hair a dark chocolate brown glistening under the fading sunlight. But the hard, unsmiling mouth was the same.

She grasped her thoughts for memories, for anything that would give her a clue as to who he is, the kind of man he was. She babbled on, trying to hide her hysteria. She was married to a man she didn't remember!

Too soon, they stopped in front of the door earlier. Gruffly, he pushed a handkerchief towards her. "Wipe your tears. They're worried enough as it is without seeing you crying."

His gesture touched her, and she murmured her thanks as she dried her eyes. How could he be kind, and yet so out of touch? She wished she could figure him out. But there was no time to ponder on it, as the door swung open.

Inside was around a dozen people, all in different states of worry. She saw Touya in a corner, straightening once he saw who had entered.

"Sakura!" The exclamation came from everywhere. She took a step back, overwhelmed, but Syaoran was right behind her.

"Easy," he murmured, for her ears only. "They will not harm you. They only missed you dearly. Could you not give them this, if only this moment to show you that?"

Her head drooped ever so slightly, and she nodded imperceptibly before the people in the room approached her.

"My daughter," she heard the barest whisper, and her eyes came up, colliding with a gentle brown gaze hidden behind spectacles.

Scenes flashed in her mind then—her father preparing her lunch before she went to school, her father hugging her when she cried…but why did the memories stop there? There has to be more…isn't there?

She didn't even know she was crying as Fujitaka hugged her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he kept murmuring, and she knew he was crying too.

As she embraced the man she knew was her father, she felt at ease. For the first time, she felt safe in this strange new land. As if it was, indeed, her home.

TBC