Urban Hymns

Touya/Syaoran. PG.
The line between love and hate is thin. Are you man enough to cross it?
(part 02 of T/S universe)
2000 | 1760 words

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I used to hate him. Everything about him.

I hated how he loved Sakura and tried to steal her away. I knew all he would ever do was to hurt her.

I truly hated him. Would I have any reason not to? From the first time we met he was already hurting her, doing things the only way he’s ever known how to do them: taking what he wants and not caring about anything or anyone in the way. But he was small and weak, just a pathetic coward trying to win the easier way. He didn’t stand a chance against me.

Of course, she was always better than me at giving people a second chance. Somehow he found a way to her heart. Despite whatever walls I’ve tried to build, he found a way to her hopes. I know I wouldn’t be able to protect her forever, but something in me kept saying that I could. But he broke through my defences one card a day, one smile a day, one helpful hand a day. He was there to save her each time I could not.

Eventually I had to step back, accept that she just wasn’t my baby anymore. And he knew, he knew that with each helpless glare I was only admitting my defeat. He was still small and weak, but now it was I who didn’t stand a chance against him.

All I could do was to hate.

It’s only a shame that I had to be so right about him. I knew he’d hurt Sakura, and he did. He hurt her when he didn’t tell her, he hurt her when he left and hurt her when he asked her to wait. But worst than that, deeper than any cut, he hurt her when he didn’t come back.

And I never hated someone so much in all my life as I did then.

What was I supposed to with Sakura’s broken heart? I had to push her ahead, make her move on and see through his cowardice, never quite understanding what was it that made him so special. I would rather see her in the arms of someone I could trust than watch her waiting in vain. He did come back eventually, one day he’d have to. I’m just sorry I was already living here with Yuki and never got to see his face when he found out she’d walked out of his hesitant reach. It would’ve felt so right in such a wrong way. He probably hated me for it. I hope he did.

So what’s there’s left to say? Reasons to hate him I had galore.

It’s just that sometimes I have to ask myself where have all those reasons gone.

Sometimes he says he still loves her. I never know what that means. Is he testing me? Is he pushing my buttons and trying my patience to see how far he can go? Is he simply asking to be smacked across the face? Or is he trying to blame all this on his juvenile crush on my sister, denying everything and relying again on his shameless cowardice to excuse this one step forth two steps back dance?

Is he trying to give me reasons to hate him again? Because hell knows it’d be so much easier to look at him with renewed anger than to stand here under his sidelong glances, pretending not to know that he knows that I know he’s staring.

I try to understand how we did we get here, but it doesn’t make a lot of sense. How long had I been living here, away from home and working on building my future, when the past came knocking on our door? Just his luck that Yukito has also always been much better than me at giving people a third chance.

It’s been years since he moved in. Since we first him the University, first took him to a game, a concert, an afternoon in the park. It still sounds a little strange when I think about it for too long, but I must admit the truth: Syaoran is now, against the best of odds, our friend.

Yukito says I rationalise too much. That I should follow my emotions. But following my emotions was exactly what brought me to this point to begin with. Had I been more rational, I wouldn’t have let him get to me. I wouldn’t have watched him for so long, trying to understand her and looking for reasons to forget all the things I hated about him. I wouldn’t have let myself get caught in the same trap I couldn’t save Sakura from.

I watch them quietly, stretched out in the couch. They talk and laugh, Syaoran makes little tricks just to please Yuki. They’re so beautiful, so intense. I can’t feel them anymore, but I can still see it: there’s chemistry there. A balance of forces that draws them to each other and me to both of them. What a trio we are. But even as watch, helplessly caught in the sum of their powers, I know in my heart the difference: one is a friend and brother I can’t live without, someone I gave my power to and would give my life for if needed be. The other is someone I’ve hated so much and for so long, someone I held in the back of my mind for so much time that I know to have crossed the limits with. The tense line between what was and what could be was blurry enough without his stares to confuse me -now it’s nothing but a faint, badly drawn trace.

I love him. There, I said it. Not that I even need to: he knows. Just like he knew my glares back then, he knows now what my looks mean.

Yuki catches me staring and gives me a knowing smile. I don’t even have the decency of blushing anymore, not before my best friend. But then he glances at me again, silently asking what he should do, and now I feel my cheeks warm up, because those are not his eyes. They’re deeper and older and slightly amused. They’re Yue’s.

We hardly see Yue anymore, not entirely. Sometimes he’ll show up like this, through Yukito’s eyes, curious or amused at something we do or say. But since Sakura agreed she didn’t really need him anymore, he rarely comes back to his real form. It took Syaoran long enough to realise why Yue prefers to live with his memories than with us but, when he did, I found another reason to love him: he makes Yue happy. Sometimes Yue will transform and Syaoran’ll just hold him for a while, sharing what little of Clow’s essence there’s left in him. Then Yue will sleep for days and we know he’s happy. Sometimes Syaoran’ll just break a little spell to give Yue the faint sensation of Clow’s presence to breath on, like he did a minute ago, and Yukito’s eyes will shine bright and he’ll smile in spite of himself.

I didn’t know the same Syaoran who only knew to hurt could also make people happy this easily.

While they’re still shining with joy, he turns his Yue eyes at me and, with my own eyes, I ask him to leave. He leaves grinning at me and I grin back. I know Syaoran saw it and caught my meaning. The red burning on his cheeks is so adorable I don’t even mind that he still takes the trouble of being embarrassed. It’s Yuki, you fool. What are you afraid of?

So he’s there by the table. Staring at me and waiting, like he always does. He never moves until I tell him to.

And I’m suddenly reminded of a million reasons to love him and another million to hate myself for doing so. Damn it. He’s still so weak, so small. He’s weak enough to remind me constantly that I shouldn’t trust him because I might be just his compensation for losing my sister, but the next second he’s brave enough to face his whole family’s wrath against me and say that, well, the only son who could carry the family’s name isn’t likely to do so, too bad.

He’s enough of a bastard to not admit he stares and tell me I’m delusional if I think he was staring at me, but he’s sweet enough to give me those small, secretive smiles when I say I’m not afraid to admit I do stare because I do enjoy staring at him.

“Come here,” I call.

“What do you want?”

I open my mouth and think of many things to say. Do you love her? Do you love me? How was your day? Have you called your mother? Wanna play basketball? Wanna go out for a pizza? Wanna be with me forever?

I have to laugh at myself. I’m just a pathetic coward trying to win the easier way. I shake my head and gesture for him to come. Just come, you moron, don’t ask. He stands up, walks to me and thinks twice before sitting on my lap. I look up at him and ask myself again how did we get here.

“You know,” I tell him, “I hate you. Like I never hated anyone else.”

He raises an indignant eyebrow, but can’t help the smirk. Leaning down, he kisses me with those boyish lips, as clumsy and insecure as he’ll always be. He doesn’t mind being clumsy because he expects me to take control, to pace each kiss as I wish, to pace the dance forth or back as I find it better, and I’m left with no other option. As we kiss and I run my hands around his waist, pulling him down upon me, I can once again understand. Understand and maybe even excuse Sakura’s hopes.

He takes what he wants and doesn’t care about the rest. He’s taken my heart and, to be honest, I too don’t really care about the rest.

His mouth trails down to my neck and there it rests, unmoving like his body laying peacefully on top of mine, his heart beating slow and sure, his fingers caressing my arm softly like they’re not even there. I can hear his breath and I’m sure if I could feel him with my powers now, he’d be beautiful.

His tone is sure and, may I dare, almost tender when he whispers against my neck, “I hate you too, Touya. I always will.”

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