Card Captor Sakura Fan Fiction ❯ Through A Looking Glass ƽ°²¾©¤Î™ÑÎïÕZ ❯ With death, there comes life ( Chapter 17 )

Through a looking glass

By: Aisaki Sumi

Chapter 16 With death, there comes life

Aimless smile that hovers in the air

And vanishes along the levels of the roof

 

Cries of thousands of men resonated in the air, reverberating over the vale and the hills and mountains laid beyond one's reach. The sounds of arrows and swords perforating flesh hidden behind the heavy armours were carried miles away by the careless wind.

 

The number of men remain standing became less and less, as their souls were embraced by death and the pale sunlight that shone so mercilessly upon them - it looked so derisive in all its blinding glories. Scarlet red liquid splashed onto the daisies that were white-feathered shield of god, and like darkened rose petals scattered across a field of dreams.

 

The Minamoto soldiers fell one by one like lifeless dolls and into the depth of the gray earth where death greeted them with open arms. The Taira army was finally triumphing, there were hope in the soldiers' eyes, and there were also primitive thirsts for violence and bloodshed. It was only a matter of time that the Minamoto army face its ultimate doom.

 

When the news and reports on the current Minamoto army's condition reached Eriol's ears, it was already too late. They lost, with disgrace and an alarming casualty.

 

A bundle of blood splattered across the floor of his tent as Eriol coughed violently. Gasps of anxiety and worries filled the silence that was heavy and unforgiving. Aiko whispered his name in a hushed tone as she patted his back gently, but he was too numbed to feel anything.

 

Every time he was in deep stress and shock, he would cough up blood - a habit he had carried with himself since childhood. Which was why he lived in his brother's shadows all those years, his brother thought he was protecting Eriol as any older brother would do, but he had missed the yearning in Eriol's eyes to prove him worth to the world.

 

He had been dwelling in the shadows for all too long, finally a chance came, but he was too blinded by his own sentiments and the chaos of his mind that deprived him of his usual calmness.

 

Just when he puffed out the breath that he had been holding subconsciously, another devastating report came through the heavy draperies of the tent which hung like the clocks of the death gods.

 

“General, the Taira spies have discovered the fact that Prince Mochihito is hidden in the Miidera temples. They are now making their way to the temples!” A loud thud was produced and the young soldier kneeling on the floor paused to stare at his general in perplexity.

 

Eriol had just dropped his sword, the one that hadn't left his side since he was twelve.

 

“Go on.” The instruction was said in such an inexorable tone that it sent shivers down its listeners' spines.

 

The young soldier gulped in nervousness, swallowing hard as if there had been a stone stuck in his throat and blocking the air passage his life depended on. Trying the words on his now tangled up tongue again, he proceeded onward as he was commanded to. “General Yorimasa has gathered the rest of the men to protect Prince Mochihito to help him escape.”

 

Eriol swerved around and strolled toward the map hanging on one side of his tent, his eyes scanning across the lands and halted into a stop at the name “Miidera temples”. The Minamoto clan favoured Prince Mochihito more and wished to aid him in claiming the Imperial Throne in the near future.

 

The prince was their only ticket to reach the power given by the Imperial Throne, and without him, the Minamoto Clan would be powerless. They had to protect the Prince, no matter what.

 

“The prince's safety is our top priority. Keep his highness safe, at any cost!” Eriol gave out his final command sternly, with his back facing the young messenger soldier.

 

The shadows cast upon his frame gave him the look of a wanderer of the night, like a ranger from hell, he controlled their lives and their ultimate fate. The young man gave his general one last lingering look before pressing his lips firmly together and rushing out of the tent, for he may never return again.

 

……

 

Syaoran and the troops arrived at the temple were the Minamotos had hidden Prince Mochihito. The heavily armed riders and archers surrounded the temple at the wave of Syaoran's hand. In perfect alignment, they had encircled the temple entirely; no one could enter or leave as they awaited Syaoran's commands.

 

Those Taira soldiers, each of them were washed over with blood stains, it was hard to tell which stain came from their wounds and which ones were contributed by the enemies they had slaughtered along the way. Their clothes were dripping wet, for they had just crossed the river in a tight chase of the remaining Minamoto soldiers and their commander Yorimasa.

 

All the ones crossing their paths were killed, and the blood shed by their enemies died the river crimson red. But a few stilled remained still and were hidden either in the temple itself or around it.

 

“Burn it down!” Syaoran shouted, raising his hand into the air and signalled the commencement of the burning in a manner almost too ruthless. He looked almost godly at that moment, with the ethereal golden lights casted upon his figure - he was almost too bright for the eyes of his beholders to perceive.

 

The god of war he was, and his brilliance, outshining the Sun itself, made his men follow him through the traps of death and wade through the rivers of ever-flowing blood. As a response, the men acceded to the decision with undistinguishable cries, their voices hovering over the mustiness of the air. Even the invasively jabbing winds of the harsh winter could not overwhelm their spirits.

 

Woods and broken pieces of tree trunks were gathered and placed along the walls of the temple. A fire was then lit into the wintry air, burning so ever-brightly against the vast expanse of velvety blues. The fire enveloped the temple into a tight embrace, devouring it and perishing it in its fury, leaving nothing alive in its path.

 

Painful shrieks came from the heart of the fire, they begged for gods and the sky for mercy, but they forgot, the sky was as heartless as their enemy, and the gods would only watch them burn to ashes as relentlessly as they could. If one wanted to be saved, he had to save himself, because no one else in this world would do that for them.

 

Sadly, the dying men realized this fact only upon stealing a glimpse at death itself. It was already too late. Life was unfair and cruel in its own sadistic ways.

 

They should have known better…should have…

 

Watching the temple tumbling down as if it were the most fragile thing in the world, Atsumori curled his lips into a small smile of satisfaction. Father should be pleased with what they had done, or rather, what Syaoran-niichan had done. But it didn't matter, just the thought of being apart of this victory was enough for him.

 

At least he wouldn't be too much of a disappointment to his father this time. Suddenly, a foreign rustling sound came from the bushes that were very different from the pattering sound of the fire, and Atsumori's hearing was especially sharp when it needed to be. He quickly whipped his head around and squinted his eyes, there, he saw a piece of torn off cloth.

 

His heart almost stopped bounding upon the sight of such cloth. A Minamoto had been hiding in the bushes, and he probably, and most likely was accompanied by the prince. Without giving his actions a second thought, Atsumori jumped onto his horse and dashed towards the trail left behind by the prince and his protector, the two sole survivors of the burning.

 

The haunting howls of the violent wind made Syaoran's call almost too distant and indiscernible to the ear, and Atsumori didn't realize that it was the last time he would hear such a call.

 

……

 

It wasn't hard for Atsumori to catch up with the escaping Minamoto commander and Prince Mochihito, moving in four feet was always faster than two. Atsumori followed them through the brooding forests with leaves rustled in the most haunting way ever, and the air was thick and poisonous to the mind, whispering a nameless fear.

 

The caliginous setting of the entire scene was for the sole purpose of scaring off its intruders, but for a brave young warrior like Atsumori, nothing was able to hold him back. The chase was halted into a stop as they reached the end of the somber forest, where the land was divided by a river of gushing currents that was so powerful that nothing could stand still in its way.

 

Minamoto Yorimasa held up his sword while his other free arm covered the shivering prince. His eyes were deadly and fearless as they bore directly into the ones of Atsumori, and Atsumori admired his courage as a true warrior. Pulling out his own sword from its sheath, Atsumori jumped off his horse and slowly made his way toward the two.

 

An honourable samurai would never take advantage of the situation and fight with disgrace. When disputes needed to be settled, two brave warriors would meet each other in a one-on-one duel and battle it out, letting the strongest one standing. A small nod of gesture, Minamoto Yorimasa pushed Prince Mochihito aside and positioned his body into the attacking stance.

 

A loud clang was produced as the two blades clung onto each other, a battle of power was taking place and Atsumori felt his arm trembling upon the strong impact, but he forcefully took it in and slid his blade downward so he could break up the clingy position they found themselves in.

 

Once Atsumori's blade broke free from the restrain, he swung it toward the elder and much stronger Minamoto and aimed for his critical point in vain, but was blocked.

 

The duel continued and it was hard to tell which side was winning. There were sweat drops trickling down Atsumori's forehead as he gritted his teeth. The prolongation of the duel was working against his favour and Atsumori became more certain of his strength and weakness.

 

He had to end it soon, but how?

 

It was then he caught a glimpse of the prince at the fringe of his vision, and realized the prince was attempting to make a run for the forest beside them as the Minamoto commander kept him busy in the duel. Rage flashed in his amber eyes as he kicked Yorimasa hard in the stomach to break apart the close combat and made a run for the Prince.

 

Upon almost reaching the deeply scared prince, Atsumori fell to the ground as Yorisama pounced on him and grabbing his legs. Atsumori flung his sword at the obstacle at his feet and warm blood gushed as the tip of the blade left Yorimasa's flesh. A human arm came off, and a loud grunt and a horrid shriek broke the intense silence that reigned over them.

 

Seeing it as his chance to fleet, Atsumori turned around and stabbed this blade into the already petrified Prince's chest. The moment his sword punctured through the wide-eyed prince's heart, he felt a sharp stabbing pain from his own abdomen. Shifting his eyes downward while his body froze in that one single frame of moment, he saw a familiar blade pierced into him from the behind.

 

He fell, along with the Prince. The pain was so sharp that it numbed his senses, gasping for air, Atsumori pulled the blade out of his body with his last bit of strength, and he laid on his back, panting and feeling the life in him slipping away as the time ticked by.

 

The sky was a dark shade of blue, tinged slightly orange at its edges. It was almost dusk, Syaoran-niichan's favourite time of the day. He remembered questioning his big brother when he was little of why the older boy liked dusk better than dawn. Most people he knew preferred dawn because it represented a new beginning.

 

One those cheerful days, his brother would ruffle his chestnut hair and reply with an idly grin, “because dust offered a more realistic view of life. Dawn gave people too many falsified hopes, and tricked them into thinking that everything was within their reach and that holding the sun in their palms was possible.”

 

Atsumori didn't understand those deep, philosophical words back then, but he still forced himself to memorize those words.

 

He was born as the youngest of the family. His birth was unexpected and greeted upon with a lack of excitement. He was just there. His father had his proud eyes set upon his eldest sons, and especially Syaoran-niichan.

 

Nobody paid attention to him and nobody played with him because they were all so busy with their own lives. They passed him by as if he was invisible and he almost thought he was invisible until the moment Syaoran-niichan bent down and ruffled his air with a warm smile tugging on his lips.

 

“Atsumori” Syaoran-niichan would pronounce his name with such a rare gentleness.

 

He would never forget those moments, never…

 

There were times when he turned out to be a great disappointment to their father, and merciless whipping would take place. Father would tie him up and whip him in the gardens for the entire Taira household to watch. The servants, the women of the house, his brothers - all stood their watching his punishment with nonchalance.

 

He was so young back then, but the Taira household had its unbreakable rules, and when one did occasionally break one, he or she would receive the most unforgettable punishment of his or her life. When he thought he could was drifting to the blurred line that divided life and death, Syaoran-niichan raced toward him and protected him with his own body.

 

Father's unrelenting whips would then hit Syaoran-niichan's back, leaving bloody trails behind, laying in its wake.

 

He asked, with tears forming in his eyes. Why, Syaoran-niichan? The older boy would ruffle his hair like he had done so many times before, an almost wistful smile on his face. “Because you're my little brother, Atsumori.”

 

Puffing out a difficult gasp, Atsumori smiled in the memories of his childhood. Syaoran-niichan was always there for him, and now, it was his chance to do something for him. He had killed the Prince, the problem that had his older brother frowning late at night when he thought no one was looking. Finally, he did something for his brother…finally.

 

With the last thought trailing off his mind, Atsumori closed his eyes. The satisfied smile remained on his youthful and handsome face, forever unwavering and in the memory of the happier times where his brother would grin radiantly at him and ruffle his hair. The gentle wind that swirled by, caressing his features and his soft chestnut hair, in the same manner his older brother would touch him.

 

Sayounara, Syaoran-niichan.

 

……

 

It was already late into the night when the exhausted troop returned to the Taira military camp. Instead of excitement and chatters of their victory over the Minamotos, a sorrowful solemnity graced their faces as they quietly marched into the camp. Sakura was perplexed by the demeanour of their return, but everything became crystal clear when her eyes spotted a familiar cadaverous face.

 

It didn't match the countenance imprinted in her memories. The younger Taira boy was always so agile, bright and overflowing with energy, where he would roam carelessly through life with no thought of the shadows in his path, or the silent flight of the raven-winged hours.

 

But it was him; the lifeless body resting on the stretcher was Atsumori.

 

“Burn the body.” Syaoran murmured in exhaustion, without giving the young resting boy a second glance as he hurried into his tent.

 

The shadow of the night masked his visage so perfectly that no one could see the looks on his face, all except Sakura. She saw something shimmering in the corner of his eyes before strode away to a place where no one could see his anguish and sorrows.

 

The remaining soldiers stood in silence as they watched the brave young warrior's body lay so peacefully in the flames, until it turned into dusts. No one dared to remove or collect the bone ashes, they just stood there, so still and quite.

 

A violent gust of wind came by, picking up the small particles of ash and lifting them into the air where under the silvery moonlight, they sparkled like a million of crystals scattered across the dark velvety background of the night sky. Like the distant stars, Sakura added in her mind, yes, he was like the stars, forever bright in the night sky and protecting the ones he held dear to his heart.

 

Slipping away from the crowd, she let her figure blend into the overwhelming darkness of the night. Her feet took her to the tent of her husband. Pausing a little upon reaching the heavy draperies of his tent that shut him out from the rest of the known world, she took a deep breath and entered, as quietly and as gently as she could.

 

There, she saw him sitting in the center of the room, his composure calm and collective as it had always been. She saw his body tensing up slightly upon her entrance, revealing to her that he was aware of her intrusion. Sakura slid across the floor and took a seat next to him, but he remained unresponsive. His back was still facing her.

 

Sakura wasn't great with words of comfort, and he certainly didn't need any sympathy or pity at this moment, because she knew he was stubborn and strong. They shared a lot of common traits, possibly more than they could even identify. She came to inform him of a fact that she had just discovered a few hours ago, and nothing more.

 

“My lord, there is something that I think you should know.” She licked her dried lower lip and began, trying the words on her tongue. He made no attempt to reply, but she knew he was listening. “I'm pregnant.” Once the soft words escaped from her mouth, she saw his body tensing up, and then, he slowly turned around with widened amber eyes, full of bewilderment.

 

“With death, it brings life.” She murmured soothingly.

 

The lone statement hung in the air, producing endless echoes in Syaoran's mind. He felt a bundle of emotions exploding in his chest. There were eye-stinging dusts in his eyes, making his eyes watery. As if the invisible heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders, Syaoran lowered his head.

 

Deploring, he let out the soft almost indiscernible cry, but that was all Sakura heard. The room was encompassed by a silence of understanding once again, but something was different and she was quite certain of that.

 

There were crystal clear droplets crashing into the dirty ground, leaving wet stains behind. Sakura knew what it was, but said nothing. He was trying to find a justification for himself to express the gnawing sorrows in his heart, and in her soft non-comforting words, he found tears.

 

A man should never cry, but when he so rarely did, it was because of a deep anguish that invaded his heart.

 

Syaoran's tears mourned the death of his most beloved brother, and at the same time, celebrated the formation of a new life.

 

……

 

Sakura was sent back to Heian-Kyo the following morning, much to everyone's surprise. Syaoran took the time to explain that Sakura was called back by the Taira clan to serve the Emperor rather than spending her time here with the army.

 

The higher-ranking officers congratulated her on her successes and being recognized by the Taira Clan, and wished her of a brighter future. Sakura simply smiled in reply, but behind those empty words of flattery, she knew that they were happy to get ride of her so she couldn't steal anymore of their glories. How typical, she thought.

 

Meiling was left behind to stay with the army, for a reason only Syaoran knew of, and Sakura didn't bother making any unnecessary inquires on the other's intention. If Syaoran wanted to tell her, he would tell her, and if he didn't, it would be pointless to question him.

 

She just nodded in acknowledgement and stepped into the sedan chair. The road ahead was vague and unclear, but it would lead her back to Heian-kyo, wherein she was born but she could never quite call it home. However, this time, it felt slightly different. Placing her marble hand onto her stomach in the most placid way, the corners of her mouth lifted just ever so slightly, forming a rare heartfelt smile on her visage.

 

Yes, it was different, she wasn't alone anymore.

 

……

 

Months had passed since the last time she saw him, and her stomach was growing bigger by the day. She was grateful of his thoughtfulness, because on the day of her return, she switched identity with Miyuki, who had been posing as her since her departure, and right after that, Miyuki showed her the letter from Syaoran which arrived earlier that day, informing the entire family of Sakura's pregnancy.

 

Syaoran tampered with the date of her pregnancy to the day before the Taira Army left Heian-kyo, and at the same time, he had bribed the doctor responsible for his health into confirming this falsified fact, while at the same time, providing a falsified testimony to the Taira family.

 

She was personally congratulated by Syaoran's mother, the lady of the house, on bearing Syaoran a child. She thanked her politely, but deep down inside she wanted to chuckle, if they knew how the pregnancy was induced, they would most likely be furious.

 

Sakura wandered down the meandering stone-laden road in Syaoran's garden, the special territory of the Taira compound that wasn't to be intruded upon easily, unless permission was given by its master. It was different being there in the midst of early autumn, the plum blossoms were no longer blooming beautifully and alluringly like they did in the winter, but still, she preferred the current picturesque scenery of the garden.

 

Breathing in the refreshing air unique in autumn only, Sakura opened up her arms a little and embraced it with her all. When she reopened her eyes, she saw her sister-in-law, standing a distance away from her. Sakura had grown used to her reticent present.

 

Tomoyo came and departed as a shadow, and Sakura was always fond of taciturn people. It made their presence more easily to indulge in. Sakura was never made aware of her entrance into this undisturbed part of the compound, save by the dear music of her low sweet voice, as she sang to herself, of the hopes she had in life and dreams that comforted her mind when the days were long and dark.

 

Even though they've encountered each other quite a few times in the past months, they never really ran into each other so openly like this, and Sakura took the time to scrutinize the woman presented before her eyes; she found herself stunned by such rare beauty.

 

In beauty of face no maiden ever equalled her. It was the radiance of an opium-dream - an airy and spirit-lighting vision more wildly divine than the fantasies which hovered vision about the slumbering souls of the daughters of Delos. Yet her features were not of that regular mould which she has been falsely taught to worship in the classical labours of the heathen.

 

“Lady Tomoyo.” Sakura acknowledged the other's presence by dipping her chin downward in a polite nod. A serene smile that was so innocent and elegant - so untainted by the hideous ugliness of the world, and Sakura was finally able to understand why Syaoran had fallen for her.

 

Angelic she was, as if descended from the heavens above, her pureness was so rare and well-preserved, that even Sakura couldn't help but feel a little envious toward her.

 

“When is your due date?” Tomoyo asked; her voice low and soft and melodious, tugging at Sakura's heart so relentlessly. Her amethyst eyes gazing down at Sakura's plump stomach with such lovingness - it reminded Sakura of the feeling of spring where the heavy snow melts away and the flowers bloom in the glories of God.

 

“Soon, they say.” Replied Sakura, lowering her eyes to focus on the center of Tomoyo's attention - where a life was slowly forming and taking its final shape.

 

“The one he truly loves is you.” The abrupt statement pulled Sakura's attention back to its speaker. She easily masked away the surprise she found from the statement, and stared at Tomoyo.

 

It was a dangerous subject and a sensitive one as well, and being the clever woman she was, she decided to let silence be her response. If she didn't say anything, nothing incriminating could be used against her.

 

A soft chuckle escaped from Tomoyo's lips as her eyes twinkled ruefully.

 

“He only thinks me as an older sister that he never had. For a while, he was confused by his feelings, because I was the only woman in his life at the time. But he treats you differently.” She carried on, a hint of nostalgia glimmering in her eyes as her vision was set on the afar, lost in recollections her childhood, where there was just her and Syaoran.

 

A part of her wished they would never grow up, but she knew, she had to let him go someday.

 

A pleasant tranquility filled in the empty spaces between them as they both fell silent, lost in their own thoughts. No further exchange of words was required, for they had already reached an understanding for each other.

 

Autumn was the month where the brilliance of summer drifted away to the distant horizon - where flowers wilt and leaves defoliate, some called it the season of death, where winter was the season of a deep refreshing slumber, while others believed autumn was the season of foison.

 

But in Sakura's mind, the Autumn was just a new beginning - it was the season of life and possibilities.

 

On that very night, a boy was born, and when Sakura held him carefully in her arms as if he was the most precious jewel in the entire world, she had found the miracle that she sought out for as long as she could remember.

 

Her miracle was right in her arms.

 

And she named him, Akira.

 

A light that shined into her world of blue and gray.

 

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Entirely unedited, it will go through intense editing once it is completed.

 

A/N: I'm not great with fighting scenes. Find it hard to describe them, so, please overlook them if you find them not graphical enough. I'm still new to the whole epic-story-thing.

 

So, a big thanks to those that reviewed, don't worry, next chapter will be the last one, and you will be freed from my naggings on WHY IT IS SO IMPORTANT TO REVIEW! Once again, a word or two is fine. I don't get paid for writing here, sooooo, make the poor writer happy by dropping a nice review.

 

Once again, I need to point out that the first tactic was used in a battle between Cao Cao and Sun Quan, where Sun Quan was the one that came up with, NOT ZHU GE LIANG. The popular belief is that Zhu Ge Liang came up with it at the famous battle of Red Cliff, IT IS FRIGGING WRONG!!! IT IS WRONG, WRONG, WRONG!!!

 

In THE ACTUAL history, Sun Quan wanted to spy on Cao Cao's army himself, sailing these boats to Cao Cao's army camp site, but since Cao Cao has the tendency to be slightly paranoid (because he doesn't trust anyone but himself), he shot arrows at Sun Quan's boats, and Sun Quan was like “oh right, this can be my perfect chance to get arrows from Cao Cao, and I'll save spying on him for another time”.

 

This is how the tactic used came out to be.

 

In the novel The Three Kingdoms, the writer exaggerated a lot of things and made Zhu Ge Liang the one solving all problems, which is clearly bullshit. The movie Red Cliff was even more of bullshits, it was just…can't describe how much I hate the film; it hurt my pride as a history-lover. Most people that were a fan of that historical period hated the film because it was just so off.

 

But the second tactic was actually made up by me, using two of the laws described in Thirty-Six Stratagems, called “in order to capture, one must let loose”, along with another called “Entice the tiger to leave the mountain lair” in a combination, which is why my strategy looks so pale and stupid in comparison with Sun Quan's. But what the heck, I'm not that trained in this area, I've only read books on War strategies and tactics out of interest.