Game of Souls

Chapter One

Once home, his mother waited in the back while his sisters hugged him, and once they were done, made no move to take her turn. It was something Syaoran half expected, but he could not help but feel disappointed. Li Yelan was a powerful sorceress, a highly-respected member of the clan, and usually made a point of avoiding such cuddling in front of others. As the youngest child of five and the only son, Syaoran ran the risk of being spoiled and incompetent, just as a rule. Yelan had always considered discipline far more important than comfort, and with Syaoran's father gone, his mother had to take the role of both parents, so throughout Syaoran's upbringing she had been the source of intimidation and awe. It was his sisters, especially Fanren, that Syaoran went to if he wanted a mother.

But it had been a year since he came to Hong Kong with Sakura and friends, where the focus had been mainly on Sakura's problem with Madoushi, and two years since he left Hong Kong at all to go to Tomoeda on the quest for Clow Cards. He had kind of hoped she missed him, or would show that she would miss him. The lack of reaction left him feeling lost.

"Your room is as you left it," She told Syaoran, as Fuutie and Fanren heaved the suitcases and laughed at each other's efforts.

"You've grown taller!" Fanren exclaimed with delight, "Though not quite there yet." She rubbed his hair, which Syaoran endured without complaint. It felt so unsettling to be home after all this time.

"Come, let's get his things inside, we can measure his height later," Fuutie ordered. Syaoran followed his sisters in, while Yelan rounded up the back.

"Little brother is all grown up," Shiefa remarked.

"Not all grown up."

"Well he's grown considerably, that's for sure!"

Syaoran's footsteps slowed. His sisters were chattering like normal, but something about them felt alien and unsettling, like he was seeing them through different eyes and hearing them with different ears. He had grown up, that was inevitable, but he did not realize until that he might have changed enough that he no longer knew his family, or that his family no longer knew him. Certainly, his sisters talked with him on the phone all the time, but they had changed too, and he had not been around to witness it. They were comfortable with each other, and he was apart from them, nearly a stranger.

Yelan loomed behind him all of the sudden.

"Feels less familiar than you expected, doesn't it?" She stated, and Syaoran could not read her tone. He shifted, unable to trust himself to answer in a way that would not be incriminating.

"It will pass," She assured him. "That is what family is."

She moved away, and Syaoran walked waveringly to where his sisters dropped off his luggage. Fuutie called out that he could unpack later, that surely he was hungry, and there was porridge in the ricemaker and they made pork and bamboo shoots with mushrooms. He went to the dining area to see a bunch of bowls he had never seen before, new chopsticks, the old tablecloth, but new porcelain vases and figurines lining against the walls, and frames and carved pictures in wood, a new painting, and then Fanren called for him to grab some spoons for everyone, but he had no idea where the spoons were.

It had been difficult to leave Sakura and all of Tomoeda. He had grown comfortable there, found friends cared about him, and though there were those who got on his nerves, like Kero and Touya, they were there for each other, and he knew he could count on both if he needed. Still, he underestimated how unsettling it would be to return to Hong Kong. This was a place he once knew as well as his own flesh and bone. He was not sure if things had changed so much without him, or he had simply forgotten.

He did not think coming home would be like moving to a new, strange place all over again.

It was surprisingly difficult to fall into routine.

For two years, Syaoran had been the master of his own life. He did not work for money, but he paid the bills and deposited the checks his mother mailed to him. He went to school and bought his own groceries. At home, he made his own decisions about studying and chores and idle time.

Now, he was an occupant under someone else's roof, and it was a grind, getting use to being under not just his mother's authority, but his sisters' as well. None of them seemed to understand that he had been responsible for his own affairs for two years, and all of them, his mother included, felt compelled to order him about and supervise him on everything. It was irritating, it was frustrating, and he felt distinctly alone, because there was no one who could understand his situation in Hong Kong, not that anyone could understand in Tomoeda either.

His cousins also annoyed him with endless questions about Japan. At first, Syaoran did not mind so much. Curiosity seemed reasonable, and it was rare for him to talk about Tomoeda; after all, how would one talk about a place to people who had been there their whole lives? But then the questions kept coming as more cousins were reacquainted, and he got sick of it, especially when they asked about the Clow Cards, who the new master was, and then wearing different permutations of the same expression of judgment and scorn.

School proved to be no real escape. He had studied well in Tomoeda, and Tomoeda elementary was not a bad school. Still, there were discrepancies between the two curriculums that would cause moderate anxiety, and the two intervening years in Japan had students forming cliques that Syaoran found difficulty joining. He had always been something of a loner, but in Tomoeda he had friends like him and he never realized how much he depended on their companionship until he returned to his solitude in China.

But he kept his mouth shut, because the Li clan valued discipline, and keeping one's mouth shut was one of the universal tests for it. Mouth shut, eyes open, mind sharp and ready. Live by the day and maybe, eventually, things will get easier. He had learned the layout of the kitchen again, and all the other areas of the house. Not so much the rest of the clan territories, with the changes in property as they were, but that was not a priority, and Syaoran doubted he ever really knew, even before Tomoeda.

He wondered if he could last however long his mother wanted him here. Back in Tomoeda, it had not seemed so dreadful, but now he wondered, and he wondered how he was to survive pretending he liked living in a place he no longer fit in.

He liked to spend time in the library on the grounds of doing homework. It was a refuge away from home after school, an excuse to stay out a little later. In time, Syaoran caught up on all the subjects in the Chinese curriculum, so usually he pretended he had a lot of homework to do when in fact he would finish all of them within the first two hours. He would stay in the library for an extra hour or more, looking at books. Sometimes he would see his classmates there, but few said hi to him, and he would not greet those who did not greet him first.

He liked to sit by the window, which gave him a high view of the neighborhood. It faced the north, so the sun did not shine directly through the glass. There was a chair opposite to him, and sometimes people would sit across, classmates who would chatter to each other while ignoring him, much to his annoyance; it was hard to concentrate on his own business when people insisted on talking. Most of the time, however, no one would come, and he had the area to himself. He would keep track of time by the window, noting when the sun was about to set before packing his belongings and going home just before the sky became dark. If he got home too late, his mother would be upset with him, so he tried not to do that.

Fall brought along winter chill, and the air became sharp with the coming frost. One such day, the sky was cloudy and threatened to rain. Syaoran was trying to decide whether he wanted to stay a little longer at the library and risk getting drenched, or if he wanted to go home now, face his family, and avoid getting into trouble. Technically, he could do his homework at home as easily as he could in the library, and Li Yelan knew. She had already started getting discomfited, he saw, and he was not sure how far she was willing to let him go before yanking him back under her hold. He needed to tread carefully, either way. Yelan was not someone to cross.

"You are always sitting here, every weekday," Said a voice, and Syaoran looked up in surprise. A teenage boy, tall and slender, reminding him faintly of Touya. He was younger though, about fifteen, red hair that was getting a bit long around the ears and neck, blue eyes like the sky, face faintly dotted with acne. He wore a genial grin though, friendly like Yukito, but in a much more gregarious fashion. A clear extrovert.

Syaoran shrugged. The boy was familiar; Syaoran had seen him before as well. They had never talked before, until now.

The boy took a seat opposite Syaoran. "I'm Yang Le." He held out a hand.

There was no reason for Syaoran to refuse. He took the hand. "I'm Li Syaoran."

Yang's eyes glinted, but maybe it was because of the light. "Nice. I kind of always wanted to drop by and say hi. Feels great to do so now."

Syaoran had no idea what to say to that. Hong Kong was nowhere as safe as Tomoeda, yet another thing he had to get use to, and even though Le was young, strangers did not just walk up to each other to say hi around here.

Yang pointed a thumb at the window. "Looks like it'll rain soon. Got an umbrella?"

"No," Syaoran made a face, "I was just thinking about that, and considering what to do."

"Hm. Well, maybe it won't rain before you get home."

"Maybe."

He felt distinctly uneasy, and wished Yang would leave now. Unfortunately, the teen settled in, but he did appear to have his own business to conduct, taking out books and paper from his backpack and focusing on that instead of talking.

Syaoran stayed for about fifteen minutes before opting to leave.

"Beating the rain?" Yang asked, as he packed up.

"I figured better safe than sorry."

"Always a good attitude to have. Safe trip home," Yang smiled briefly before glancing back down on his own assignments.

"Thanks," Syaoran said awkwardly, and when he received no further acknowledgment, turned to leave.

The next afternoon was a Friday, but Yang joined Syaoran nearly minutes after he sat down.

"Aw, Friday too? You're such a hard-working student," The teen exclaimed as he plopped down across from Syaoran.

"You're here as well," Syaoran pointed out.

"I'm in high school. What are you in, sixth grade?"

Syaoran chose not to answer.

"Did you beat the rain yesterday?"

"…Yes."

"Good." It had poured heavily almost as soon as Syaoran arrived home. He would not count that as enough of a coincidence to set his senses on alert, but the point had bothered him.

"What about you?" He asked Yang.

"Ack, not so lucky, but I did have an umbrella."

"Oh."

They then turned to their respective assignments. Syaoran found it difficult to focus on his own, and it was a while before he started absorbing the content and the instructions. At least Yang was not a talker when he worked, and after a while Syaoran relaxed enough that he nearly forgot Yang was even there.

After two hours, Syaoran was done. He put his things away, but got up to look for books. There had been one book he was reading two days before, some text about the human brain. He had not gotten to it the previous day because of Yang, but now he felt comfortable continuing it. Yang was engrossed in his work when he retrieved it from the shelf, but when Syaoran looked up half an hour later, the teen was staring at the book cover like he had never seen one of those before.

"That's some heavy reading material you've got there, kid."

Syaoran looked at the cover, which featured a cartoon brain and a cross-section. He shrugged. "I find it interesting."

"Want to be a brain surgeon when you grow up?"

"Not necessarily, just find it interesting, that's all."

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Syaoran use to know. He wanted to be a Card Master, and have the same kind of life his mother did, presiding over the clan and magical community. That dream had been crushed in a single night. He had not given much thought to what should replace it.

"Not sure."

"It's early," Yang assured him, "You have time. I kept changing my mind. Use to want to be a pop star. Then I wanted to be an architect. Then I wanted to be a zoologist. Eh, still have two years before going to college, and college is a long way away for you, buddy."

Syaoran tried to smile, but he had never been much of a smiler. He settled for opening his book again, silently ending the conversation. Luckily, Yang took the hint, or had the same idea. Either way, silence fell again for another half an hour, and when Syaoran packed up to leave, they exchanged no more than two words for goodbye.

Yang Le became a new constant in his life.

On weekends, Syaoran had vigorous training with private tutors alongside his sisters and cousins. On weekdays, however, he would go to school, he would go through the motions, and then he would head to the library and sit by the window. In the past, sometimes he would arrive a little later than usual because classes went overtime, and someone else might take his spot. With Yang around, however, Syaoran was pretty assured of his seat, and they started making a point of saving each other's places depending on who got there first.

In terms of table partners, Yang was pleasant. Despite the initial smalltalk, which even Syaoran had to admit was mild, he felt no need to fill silences, which suited Syaoran just fine. They never asked any questions that were too personal, but eventually Yang felt comfortable inquiring after Syaoran's strange solitude, and Syaoran also learned a little about Yang.

Like Syaoran, Yang was the youngest sibling, but he had two older brothers. One was in his mid-twenties, the other was eighteen, Touya's age. The second brother was studying abroad, somewhere in France, and the eldest had some kind of job that earned the family a lot of money.

He never mentioned parents, which Syaoran found to be a little odd. Unlike Syaoran, Yang did have friends, but for some reason he never chose to hang out with them after school. He seemed to be the genuinely cheerful sort, but not annoyingly so, and occasionally his stories about his friends' exploits coaxed a laugh or two out of Syaoran.

In return, Syaoran was equally tight-lipped about certain parts of his life. He never revealed anything about the Li clan, but he did talk a little bit about Japan, about Yamazaki's wild stories, Yukito's love of food, his own autonomy while abroad. He avoided talking about Sakura, never mentioned Tomoeda by name, and avoided mentioning any event that had to do with Clow or Sakura cards. As time went on, he began to confide in Yang how out of place he felt now, how much more at home he felt in Japan, when he had been more in control of his life.

"I can't believe your family let you go there by yourself," Yang shook his head, "I mean, that's almost neglectful. Why would you go there by yourself?"

It was difficult to explain with magic out of the picture. Syaoran ended up revealing that it was a family matter, one that he had to take care of. This seemed to inspire incredulity in his audience, but thankfully Yang did not push. It was nice to have someone know which boundaries not to cross, and Yang respectfully maintained his distance from all that Syaoran could ask of him and more. Though Yang seemed more open about his side of things, Syaoran tried to return the favor, so they both ended up knowing only just enough to wonder about the other person.

Still, there was value in this kind of friend, Syaoran felt. Social skills were never his strong point, and this kind of meaningless companionship, where neither side expected anything, was a comfort by itself. Yang knew nothing important about him, so Syaoran could tell him some of the things he held closest to his heart, such as how scared he was of his mother, how he sometimes felt he could never compare to his sisters, how Sakura mastered a "hobby" he had trained for all his life in just one year, how he really cared about Sakura and was afraid she might find someone else while he was away, wondering if people in Japan would even remember him, wondering if he even wanted to go back to Japan when in just two years he already felt out of place in Hong Kong…

Wondering just what his purpose was.

Yang said all the things Syaoran expected him to say: You're still so young, maybe you'll find someone else, she's worried about the same thing, of course people in Japan would remember you, and it was a relief to talk to a stranger because he knew none of these insecurities would be shared with anyone that mattered. No one knew Yang. No one could judge him based on what Yang knew.

Syaoran could be a totally different person, and no one else ever had to know.

"Oh no."

It was a Friday in November. Syaoran was still struggling with how early the sun set, but today proved even worse, because a storm came out of nowhere. Heavy rain splattered against the windows like tiny missiles, drumming so loudly that the rest of the occupants of the library were murmuring and pointing outside. In the span of five minutes, the sky went from daylight to almost pitch black.

Yang muttered a curse under his breath. "I had no idea it was supposed to rain today!"

"No one said it was going to rain," Syaoran's brow furrowed. In Tomoeda, he would have suspected magical mischief, but with the Li clan in residence, Hong Kong tended to be on its best behavior in that regard. Mother is going to kill me. She already did not like how Syaoran kept going to the library instead of straight home. He hoped she would not see this as a reason to bar him in the future.

"Well, storms that come suddenly also stop really quickly, maybe it will go away soon," Yang pointed out.

But the sudden downpour only eased into moderate rain, still too heavy to brave without getting entirely soaked through, and by that time the sun had well and truly set. Syaoran wondered if he should call one of his sisters to pick him up. He did not want to inconvenience anyone, but in this case he probably had no choice. On the other side, Yang was already taking out his phone.

"Eldest Brother's getting home around now, maybe he can pick me up, because these books are not going to survive the walk home," Yang grimaced at his backpack, which was little more than a duffel bag. "Should have gotten a real bookbag. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Syaoran was worried. His mother was already going to reprimand him for being home late.

"My brother can drive you home," Yang offered, "If your folks can't pick you up."

He did not want Yang coming near the actual clan territories—that would give away his identity all too easily. Besides, his mother would kill him if he went in someone else's car. "That's alright. I think I'll call my mother." Hopefully she would not be upset about me being so late. He had been waiting out a storm, after all.

Li Yelan was not impressed.

"This is why you should come directly home," She said unhappily, "Instead of fooling around at the library. Even if you need books from the library, there's no reason you can't borrow them and come home directly after. Fooling around for hours every day…one wonders what you were up to, all this time."

That irritated Syaoran to no end. Li Yelan had been fine with Syaoran 'fooling around' in another country for two years, with nothing more than a few phone calls to check on him, but now that Syaoran was in Hong Kong, all of the sudden she wondered 'what he was up to' at a public library, a perfectly reasonable place for any student to go study at. He held his tongue, however, because it would not do to talk back to one's elders, and he needed to be in her good graces if he wanted to garner a ride home through the rain without severe scolding afterwards.

"Anyway, I'll have Fuutie drive by the library to pick you up. She should be there in about half an hour. Be ready."

"Yes, Mother."

Yang completed his phone call before Syaoran finished his.

"Eldest will be here soon," He told Syaoran, "You'll be alright, kid?"

Still upset about his mother, Syaoran snapped, "I'm not a kid. I took care of myself in Japan. Why don't people get that?"

Taken aback for a moment, Yang blinked. "Well. I guess your ma had a few things to say about today. What's her problem anyway? These sort of things happen. It's not like you can predict the weather if not even the weatherman could."

"Right, well," Syaoran checked the time, and in his frustration he articulated words before he even understood them, "Sometimes I wonder if she's just disappointed in me in general, not just for any particular issue."

He had failed in enough matters to warrant that disappointment, anyway. He did not inherit his mother's powerful magical abilities, despite being her only son. He could not capture the Clow Cards to make up for that slack, and to make things worse, was defeated by a girl who had one year to get her act together. Li Yelan did seem genuinely fond of Sakura, but that did not mean she was not simultaneously crestfallen by her son. It was something Syaoran had often considered, but never dared confront his mother about, and either Yelan was oblivious, or she perceived his worry and chose not to address it.

"That's ridiculous," Yang protested, "You're such a hard-working kid—boy—uh, person. What kind of mother wouldn't be sickeningly proud of you? For crying out loud, I've seen that folder of yours and the tests you bring home. You're here every Friday when other kids are out playing. I'd even go as far as claim that you need to play a little more. If she's disappointed in you, that's her problem, not yours."

It was kind of him to say, but Yang could not understand. He did not know about magic, and Syaoran had never revealed this side of himself to the teen. How could he expect the older boy to realize that Yelan did have a valid reason to be disappointed?

He wrestled with anxiety all the way until Yang's brother came, clad in a sweeping and thick trenchcoat. Taller than Yang, broader, with hair that was a darker shade of red and eyes that were grayer, he made for an intimidating figure, and his features were also much less friendly. Seeing the two brothers reminded Syaoran a little of the contrast between Yukito and Yue. Yukito had a softness to him that Yang lacked; Yang was more forward and open and blunt. His brother, however, emitted the same kind of tough coldness that the moon guardian did, though this did not seem to dissuade the younger man.

"Thanks, that storm came out of nowhere."

"I know," The elder brother glared out the window. "The flash flood caused a great deal of traffic. Let's hope the trip home does not take long." He turned to look at Syaoran, and the young boy felt a shivering cold rake down his spine.

"This is Li Syaoran," Said Yang, before turning to introduce his brother, "This is my eldest brother, Yang Heben."

Yang Heben's eyes narrowed as he studied Syaoran. "Li Syaoran?"

Syaoran met his gaze defiantly. No matter how tough Heben was, he was no match for Yelan. He did not reply to the elder Yang's inquiry. He was not even sure what he had been asking.

"Smartest kid his age," Yang Le laughed. "Person, I mean. He has a ride home, his folks are picking him up."

"I see."

Something tugged at Syaoran's aura, a feeling so subtle he could not decide if he imagined it or not.

"Well, let's go?" Yang Le waved at Syaoran. "Hope your folks come soon. Eldest mentioned traffic, maybe they're stuck, so don't worry too much if they're late. Do you want my number? Give me a call if you need anything."

"I'll be fine." Syaoran could not imagine why he would call Yang Le when his sister was clearly on her way. "Drive safe."

"Thanks! See you on Monday!"

In the past, Yang sometimes left before Syaoran, but if Syaoran stayed it was usually by his preference. This time, watching the two brothers depart, Syaoran felt strangely bereft, as if he were being abandoned and deserted. Which was silly, considering he knew Fuutie was coming soon, but considering what he might face at home…

He sat down to wait for his sister and tried not to dwell on Yelan.

"You've never told me about this child," Heben said as soon as the two brothers got into their car. Rain had covered the windshield completely, forming a blurry surface all on its own.

"He's just a little sorcerer," Le shrugged as he put on his seatbelt. "Mother's a shrew though."

"He's not just a sorcerer," Heben frowned, "Though I'm not surprised you didn't know."

"What?"

"He's one of us," Heben turned the ignition.

There was a potent silence as the elder Yang backed the car out of the parking space.

"What!" Le exclaimed, "But that kid's magic is…I mean, he's a little above average, but a—no way!"

"Given what you know of the Li clan, you really think they would give him the opportunity to dapple in soul arts?" Heben pointed out. "Yang magic is all about elements. That's what Clow Reed's magic was all about too. Yin magic was always dubbed black magic and everyone was to shy away from it. I wouldn't be surprised if that child has never even heard of soul arts, and if his talent is in that, of course his magic is stunted. He never had a chance to break through."

Le was speechless for a moment. "That's—this is crazy! That—"

Heben casually turned the car into the street to join the traffic.

"Well what are we going to do?" The younger Yang asked.

"What is there to do?" Heben pointed out. "He's not our responsibility. He has a family, and even if they are ignorant, that is his lot in life."

"But that's not fair, they're stifling him—"

"Still his lot in life," Heben warned, "You know we should not interfere in other people's destinies. Li Syaoran's destiny will reveal itself in time. If he is destined to join our ranks, we will know sooner or later. If not, we will not intervene, because it is none of our business."

"That's still not fair," His brother pouted a little.

Heben turned on the blinkers. "Life is not fair," He reminded his brother. "So you are to keep quiet. Am I understood?"

Le sighed, but Heben saw him nod.

"Good," Said Heben. "Now let's hope this highway did not flood as well."