Chapter 3: Part 3: Syaoran
(by Okamirei, added on 2005-11-02 14:01:42 AEST) [Discussion Topic]
-Chapitre 3-
Fujitaka gently held the boy’s bandaged hand, leading him to where he stayed. They went into his room, the warmth of the room settled into the boy’s skin. The boy closed his eyes momentarily in content, taking in the warmth that he’s never encountered before. Fujitaka smiled as he saw the boy sit down on his bed, his eyes widening at the softness. He walked up to him, and began to un-wrap the boy’s bandages. “Hmm…you don’t have a name…or you don’t remember it,” he muttered. He looked up at the boy. “Am I right?”
The boy looked down at his feet, and nodded sadly in reply. Fujitaka stopped, observing the boy. “Then…I should give you one. After all…” he smiled secretively to himself. He thought for a few moments, “How about…Syaoran?”
The boy raised his head, looking into the kind brown eyes of the archaeologist. He nodded, unable to express the strange feeling that was growing inside him.
‘Syaoran…that’s my name now…’
Understanding, Fujitaka smiled, and began to un-wrap the rest of the bandages. As he unwrapped the bandage around the boy’s brown hair, he gasped, his eyes widening in surprise…the boy’s right eye was abnormal…it was the same color as the left, but it was blank and lifeless. It held no light as it would in a normal eye. “Your eye…” It left Fujitaka to one conclusion: the boy’s right eye was blind. The boy, Syaoran, turned away. He knew it was a reason why the townspeople had neglected him, because of the way he often groped around for balance. He was always teased by the townspeople’s children, always receiving snide remarks by their parents. A voice echoed in his mind…’Look at that one, sitting by the wall. Don’t turn out like him dear, he’s like a piece of trash!’
A stab of hurt struck his chest as a lump formed in his throat. ‘That’s what I am…a piece of trash…left to rot. I don’t even remember where I’m from…’
Fujitaka saw the hurt in Syaoran, his expression softening. He embraced him, sending the boy into a frozen state of bewilderment. “I know how you feel. Don’t worry Syaoran…I’m not like them. Count on it.” He released the boy from his hug, smiling. He examined the boy, noting his haggard appearance. Nodding, he rose and started towards the door to get some food. Suddenly, he heard a small voice behind him.
“Mister…”
He turned around, seeing the boy standing beside the bed, his wide, innocent brown eyes staring up at Fujitaka. The boy paused, and then spoke again. “Who…are you?”
Fujitaka stood silently briefly, and then chuckled. How should he reply? He beamed at Syaoran. “I am Fujitaka Kinomoto. But you may call me…Father.”
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