To Misha Kitten, From Anna ♥
Title: The Knight in Stolen Armour
Author: Anna [hungrybookworm]
Recipient: misha_kitten
Series: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Characters/Pairing: Real!Syaoran/Sakura
Rating: PG
Author Notes/Warnings: No Warnings really. This was interesting to write, and I hope you’ll excuse the slight lack of plot D: All the same, enjoy!
Looking at the pieces on the board, Syaoran decided that he wanted to be a knight. There was something about its unusual shape and movements that fascinated him, how it could leap over the other pieces and strike in unexpected places. How it sat patiently on the board, luring in the opponent before twisting away and crashing into them. Yes, knights were destructive, unexpected and completely loyal to their queen.
The queen being Sakura, of course.
“You start off with this layout,” explained Eagle Vision, gesturing to the board laid out on the table. It was a chipped mahogany chess set, with eight pieces placed symmetrically to each other: the white pieces being the opponent and the black pieces being Syaoran and his companions. The queens stood patiently in the far corners of the board while their other three pieces (a rook, a knight and a bishop respectively) surrounded them protectively.
“You’ll be chained up, of course, to prevent any false starts,” Eagle continued, leaning back in his leather chair, “and once the referee makes his announcement, they come loose and you fight.”
Across the table, Sakura nodded; her expression cold and determined. Entering the competition had been her idea, after all.
“Thank you for escorting us,” she said to the Vision family head, who smiled in acknowledgement.
“That’s alright,” he replied, reaching forward and scooping up the chess pieces. Syaoran saw the black knight disappear and felt slightly disappointed. His other self had seen chess pieces on his travels with Fujitaka-san, and Syaoran had always wished he could reach out and touch them for himself.
Eagle dropped the pieces in a small wooden box and folded up the board, before saying: “We’ll be arriving in a few minutes.” Smiling, he put the board and box under the table and walked out of the passenger lounge. They were travelling in Eagle’s luxury limousine, which felt far too big and moved far too smoothly. All the chairs were leather, the carpet was spotless and the windows were tinted. It made Syaoran feel far too comfortable.
The door closed and the four of them were alone. A few moments passed before Kurogane said, “He’s planning something.”
Fay nodded in agreement and Sakura asked, “What makes you say that, Kurogane-san?”
“A rich guy like him doesn’t just invite anyone for a lift,” he growled, looking over at the door, “especially in a vehicle like this.”
The thought of that made everyone quiet again, and the last few minutes of the drive were ridden out in a nervous, uncomfortable silence. Syaoran sat still, wondering if he should attempt to start a conversation. The group barely spoke anymore and he wondered whether it was because of the events in Tokyo, or because he’d joined them. He expected them to find it hard to speak to him, since he looked so horribly familiar, but he’d hoped that they’d grown used to it after a few weeks. It appeared not. True, Kurogane spoke to him quite a bit, and he and Fay occasionally chatted, but Sakura barely glanced at him. Truth be told, Syaoran didn’t mind too much if Kurogane, Fay or Mokona ignored him (not that they did, of course) but when Sakura looked away or gave him that that cold, sad expression; the feeling of emptiness threatened to swallow him up.
Syaoran took this opportunity to look over in Sakura’s direction. She was concentrating on the glass of water in her hand, deep in thought. She was already wearing the odd black dress she’d bought at the specialist shop earlier, and Syaoran thought she looked fantastic in it. He almost told her that too, until he saw the dark look on her face. After that, he wished she’d go back the bright, colourful clothes she wore before in Clow Country. It was almost as if Sakura’s clothing dictated her mood.
The limousine glided to a stop and Sakura jerked her head up, catching Syaoran’s gaze. She looked at him for a few seconds before glancing away, a mixture of loneliness and disappointment drawn across her face. Syaoran looked away too, his chest hurting and his cheeks red with embarrassment.
“We’re here,” announced Eagle, poking his head through the door. Syaoran composed himself and stood up. Now was not the time to worry about that. They had a battle to win, after all. He followed Eagle out of the car and into a towering stone building.
*****
Syaoran reminded her of a knight. Both of them did, that is. Her Syaoran, the one she’d travelled with, was probably the ‘knight in shining armour’ sort. Kind, brave and wonderful in every aspect, Syaoran-kun rushed into battle with a promising smile and sparkling white armour.
The other Syaoran, however, was very much a dark knight. The sort that walked silently and stealthily, determined yet secretly scared of hurting on of their own. A knight that approached his princess with stolen armour and a golden heart; not quite knowing the consequences of wearing the appearance of her most beloved soldier, or speaking like him, or smiling like him, or loving her like him…
Sakura wasn’t stupid. She knew it wasn’t his fault, but it didn’t stop her wishing.
The inside of the stone building had a grungy, modern feel to it. The domed ceiling was high and dirty and the floor seemed unnaturally grey underneath the litter of dropped tickets. Along the long corridor lay various betting stands and kiosks, with floppy sofas placed at every interval or so for tired punters. There was a match in progress, so the hallway was practically deserted. A single group of suited men congregated around a kiosk and a female waitress darted across the room towards them. A large screen was set at the far end of the corridor, displaying match times and odds with luminous red counters. The whole place smelt unpleasantly of smoke and leather, making Sakura cover her nose with her sleeve. She was sitting on a bench in the centre of the foyer near the entrance, holding a polystyrene cup in one hand and wondering what she was putting herself and the others in for.
Eagle has disappeared with his two assistants a while back and Kurogane and Fay had gone to register the group, leaving her with Syaoran, the other Syaoran. He was currently sitting behind her, constantly alert in case any of the punters walked up to them. A few of them seemed a bit tipsy from the bar and one was curled up in a ball, sobbing into his void tickets. It was an odd sight.
Taking a sip of coffee (or whatever it was called) from the cup, Sakura became increasingly aware of how close Syaoran was sitting behind her. It was probably by accident, both of them having sat down at the same time fairly quickly, but it felt odd. It was uncomfortable, yes, but she didn’t want to move. Not really. She could feel his body heat radiating against her back; close enough for them to almost touch. Sakura had a sudden desire to lean backwards and rest her head against his shoulder, but common sense told her not to. This wasn’t her Syaoran, after all.
Not that he would mind, of course. While her Syaoran always blushed and stuttered at the merest touch, this Syaoran was unafraid, always helping her up with surprisingly soft hands and gazing at her with such intensity. In most ways, Sakura hated it when he touched her. In other ways, she didn’t think she could stand it if he never placed his hand on her again. It was ridiculous really, wanting something but repelling it at the same time. It tore her heart in two.
It wasn’t fair on him either.
Kurogane and Fay were taking a long time. Sakura was starting to worry. They must be having another one of their chats, she thought, or Fay-san needed a drink to top up his energy before the match, or maybe…
“Where do you suppose Kurogane-san and Fay-san have gone to?” asked Syaoran suddenly, surprising Sakura.
“Oh…” mumbled Sakura, before putting her icy mask back on by saying: “I don’t know.”
“Maybe we should look for them,” Syaoran had moved to her side, and was looking at her with concerned eyes. It took Sakura a lot to look away.
“No,” she said firmly. “We should stay here. They’ll be back soon with our passes.”
They both fell silent again. Despite the echoing sounds from the hallway, Sakura found herself listening to Syaoran’s steady breathing as he sat calmly next to her. It was comforting, in a way. It was times like this that she wished Mokona was with them; its soft furry body nuzzling against her cheek. But Mokona was back at the flat, and instead this Syaoran was sitting next to her. Half of her wanted to shuffle away from him, but that would be rude. She didn’t want to upset him.
“Are you nervous?” asked Syaoran, attempting conversation. Sakura resisted the urge to look at him.
“Not really,” she lied, fiddling with the now-empty polystyrene cup.
"Ah, OK,” said Syaoran, slightly disappointed. Sakura felt terrible.
“I’m -” she started, speaking without realising; too late to stop now. “I’m… sure we’ll be fine.”
“Yeah,” agreed Syaoran, and Sakura stole a glance at him. Her chest tightened at the sight of his familiar face, but her brain quickly remembered who it was, and the tightness unexpectedly intensified.
“Hey,” said a familiar gruff voice. Kurogane and Fay had returned. Relieved, Sakura stood up and threw her cup into the bin, quickly turning away from Syaoran.
“Your pass,” said Fay, smiling faintly as he passed a small blue card to Sakura.
“Thank you,” she replied politely, pocketing the card.
“Shall we go?” asked Fay, nodding towards the display board. Their names were at the top of the board, shining in crimson letters. Their first match was in ten minutes.
“Yes,” agreed Sakura. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Syaoran look back at her sadly, before turning around and reaching forward for the card Kurogane was offering him.
The walk didn’t take long and they were soon in the green room, awaiting permission to enter the equipment chamber before being called onto the board itself. Sakura felt the nerves churn horribly in her stomach as she watched the current players run around the main board on the room’s television set. One particularly small player was being beaten over the head by a large man with a club, forcing Sakura to turn her back on the set.
That’s when she realised it. Knights are often the first to throw themselves in front of the queen; the first to be sacrificed in order for the greater good.
They were often the first to die.
A warm hand touched her forearm comfortingly. It was Syaoran, looking at her with the same honest gaze her Syaoran wore. For one moment she wanted to throw her arms around him and hold onto him until it was time to go in. She wanted to hold onto his warm, soft body forever, resting her head against his neck and breathing in his earthy smell.
Instead, she calmly pulled his hand away from her arm and said: “I’m fine. Thank you for being concerned.”
She walked away, leaving Syaoran wishing that his queen would acknowledge himself, the knight, for the soldier inside and not for the armour.
The End
Author: Anna [hungrybookworm]
Recipient: misha_kitten
Series: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Characters/Pairing: Real!Syaoran/Sakura
Rating: PG
Author Notes/Warnings: No Warnings really. This was interesting to write, and I hope you’ll excuse the slight lack of plot D: All the same, enjoy!
Looking at the pieces on the board, Syaoran decided that he wanted to be a knight. There was something about its unusual shape and movements that fascinated him, how it could leap over the other pieces and strike in unexpected places. How it sat patiently on the board, luring in the opponent before twisting away and crashing into them. Yes, knights were destructive, unexpected and completely loyal to their queen.
The queen being Sakura, of course.
“You start off with this layout,” explained Eagle Vision, gesturing to the board laid out on the table. It was a chipped mahogany chess set, with eight pieces placed symmetrically to each other: the white pieces being the opponent and the black pieces being Syaoran and his companions. The queens stood patiently in the far corners of the board while their other three pieces (a rook, a knight and a bishop respectively) surrounded them protectively.
“You’ll be chained up, of course, to prevent any false starts,” Eagle continued, leaning back in his leather chair, “and once the referee makes his announcement, they come loose and you fight.”
Across the table, Sakura nodded; her expression cold and determined. Entering the competition had been her idea, after all.
“Thank you for escorting us,” she said to the Vision family head, who smiled in acknowledgement.
“That’s alright,” he replied, reaching forward and scooping up the chess pieces. Syaoran saw the black knight disappear and felt slightly disappointed. His other self had seen chess pieces on his travels with Fujitaka-san, and Syaoran had always wished he could reach out and touch them for himself.
Eagle dropped the pieces in a small wooden box and folded up the board, before saying: “We’ll be arriving in a few minutes.” Smiling, he put the board and box under the table and walked out of the passenger lounge. They were travelling in Eagle’s luxury limousine, which felt far too big and moved far too smoothly. All the chairs were leather, the carpet was spotless and the windows were tinted. It made Syaoran feel far too comfortable.
The door closed and the four of them were alone. A few moments passed before Kurogane said, “He’s planning something.”
Fay nodded in agreement and Sakura asked, “What makes you say that, Kurogane-san?”
“A rich guy like him doesn’t just invite anyone for a lift,” he growled, looking over at the door, “especially in a vehicle like this.”
The thought of that made everyone quiet again, and the last few minutes of the drive were ridden out in a nervous, uncomfortable silence. Syaoran sat still, wondering if he should attempt to start a conversation. The group barely spoke anymore and he wondered whether it was because of the events in Tokyo, or because he’d joined them. He expected them to find it hard to speak to him, since he looked so horribly familiar, but he’d hoped that they’d grown used to it after a few weeks. It appeared not. True, Kurogane spoke to him quite a bit, and he and Fay occasionally chatted, but Sakura barely glanced at him. Truth be told, Syaoran didn’t mind too much if Kurogane, Fay or Mokona ignored him (not that they did, of course) but when Sakura looked away or gave him that that cold, sad expression; the feeling of emptiness threatened to swallow him up.
Syaoran took this opportunity to look over in Sakura’s direction. She was concentrating on the glass of water in her hand, deep in thought. She was already wearing the odd black dress she’d bought at the specialist shop earlier, and Syaoran thought she looked fantastic in it. He almost told her that too, until he saw the dark look on her face. After that, he wished she’d go back the bright, colourful clothes she wore before in Clow Country. It was almost as if Sakura’s clothing dictated her mood.
The limousine glided to a stop and Sakura jerked her head up, catching Syaoran’s gaze. She looked at him for a few seconds before glancing away, a mixture of loneliness and disappointment drawn across her face. Syaoran looked away too, his chest hurting and his cheeks red with embarrassment.
“We’re here,” announced Eagle, poking his head through the door. Syaoran composed himself and stood up. Now was not the time to worry about that. They had a battle to win, after all. He followed Eagle out of the car and into a towering stone building.
*****
Syaoran reminded her of a knight. Both of them did, that is. Her Syaoran, the one she’d travelled with, was probably the ‘knight in shining armour’ sort. Kind, brave and wonderful in every aspect, Syaoran-kun rushed into battle with a promising smile and sparkling white armour.
The other Syaoran, however, was very much a dark knight. The sort that walked silently and stealthily, determined yet secretly scared of hurting on of their own. A knight that approached his princess with stolen armour and a golden heart; not quite knowing the consequences of wearing the appearance of her most beloved soldier, or speaking like him, or smiling like him, or loving her like him…
Sakura wasn’t stupid. She knew it wasn’t his fault, but it didn’t stop her wishing.
The inside of the stone building had a grungy, modern feel to it. The domed ceiling was high and dirty and the floor seemed unnaturally grey underneath the litter of dropped tickets. Along the long corridor lay various betting stands and kiosks, with floppy sofas placed at every interval or so for tired punters. There was a match in progress, so the hallway was practically deserted. A single group of suited men congregated around a kiosk and a female waitress darted across the room towards them. A large screen was set at the far end of the corridor, displaying match times and odds with luminous red counters. The whole place smelt unpleasantly of smoke and leather, making Sakura cover her nose with her sleeve. She was sitting on a bench in the centre of the foyer near the entrance, holding a polystyrene cup in one hand and wondering what she was putting herself and the others in for.
Eagle has disappeared with his two assistants a while back and Kurogane and Fay had gone to register the group, leaving her with Syaoran, the other Syaoran. He was currently sitting behind her, constantly alert in case any of the punters walked up to them. A few of them seemed a bit tipsy from the bar and one was curled up in a ball, sobbing into his void tickets. It was an odd sight.
Taking a sip of coffee (or whatever it was called) from the cup, Sakura became increasingly aware of how close Syaoran was sitting behind her. It was probably by accident, both of them having sat down at the same time fairly quickly, but it felt odd. It was uncomfortable, yes, but she didn’t want to move. Not really. She could feel his body heat radiating against her back; close enough for them to almost touch. Sakura had a sudden desire to lean backwards and rest her head against his shoulder, but common sense told her not to. This wasn’t her Syaoran, after all.
Not that he would mind, of course. While her Syaoran always blushed and stuttered at the merest touch, this Syaoran was unafraid, always helping her up with surprisingly soft hands and gazing at her with such intensity. In most ways, Sakura hated it when he touched her. In other ways, she didn’t think she could stand it if he never placed his hand on her again. It was ridiculous really, wanting something but repelling it at the same time. It tore her heart in two.
It wasn’t fair on him either.
Kurogane and Fay were taking a long time. Sakura was starting to worry. They must be having another one of their chats, she thought, or Fay-san needed a drink to top up his energy before the match, or maybe…
“Where do you suppose Kurogane-san and Fay-san have gone to?” asked Syaoran suddenly, surprising Sakura.
“Oh…” mumbled Sakura, before putting her icy mask back on by saying: “I don’t know.”
“Maybe we should look for them,” Syaoran had moved to her side, and was looking at her with concerned eyes. It took Sakura a lot to look away.
“No,” she said firmly. “We should stay here. They’ll be back soon with our passes.”
They both fell silent again. Despite the echoing sounds from the hallway, Sakura found herself listening to Syaoran’s steady breathing as he sat calmly next to her. It was comforting, in a way. It was times like this that she wished Mokona was with them; its soft furry body nuzzling against her cheek. But Mokona was back at the flat, and instead this Syaoran was sitting next to her. Half of her wanted to shuffle away from him, but that would be rude. She didn’t want to upset him.
“Are you nervous?” asked Syaoran, attempting conversation. Sakura resisted the urge to look at him.
“Not really,” she lied, fiddling with the now-empty polystyrene cup.
"Ah, OK,” said Syaoran, slightly disappointed. Sakura felt terrible.
“I’m -” she started, speaking without realising; too late to stop now. “I’m… sure we’ll be fine.”
“Yeah,” agreed Syaoran, and Sakura stole a glance at him. Her chest tightened at the sight of his familiar face, but her brain quickly remembered who it was, and the tightness unexpectedly intensified.
“Hey,” said a familiar gruff voice. Kurogane and Fay had returned. Relieved, Sakura stood up and threw her cup into the bin, quickly turning away from Syaoran.
“Your pass,” said Fay, smiling faintly as he passed a small blue card to Sakura.
“Thank you,” she replied politely, pocketing the card.
“Shall we go?” asked Fay, nodding towards the display board. Their names were at the top of the board, shining in crimson letters. Their first match was in ten minutes.
“Yes,” agreed Sakura. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Syaoran look back at her sadly, before turning around and reaching forward for the card Kurogane was offering him.
The walk didn’t take long and they were soon in the green room, awaiting permission to enter the equipment chamber before being called onto the board itself. Sakura felt the nerves churn horribly in her stomach as she watched the current players run around the main board on the room’s television set. One particularly small player was being beaten over the head by a large man with a club, forcing Sakura to turn her back on the set.
That’s when she realised it. Knights are often the first to throw themselves in front of the queen; the first to be sacrificed in order for the greater good.
They were often the first to die.
A warm hand touched her forearm comfortingly. It was Syaoran, looking at her with the same honest gaze her Syaoran wore. For one moment she wanted to throw her arms around him and hold onto him until it was time to go in. She wanted to hold onto his warm, soft body forever, resting her head against his neck and breathing in his earthy smell.
Instead, she calmly pulled his hand away from her arm and said: “I’m fine. Thank you for being concerned.”
She walked away, leaving Syaoran wishing that his queen would acknowledge himself, the knight, for the soldier inside and not for the armour.
The End