Card Captor Sakura Fan Fiction ❯ Slave for a Week ❯ Day 4 (Part 1): Kiss and Make Up ( Chapter 5 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

DAY 4 (Part 1)

Kiss and Make Up

Thursday, 12:15midnight

This is enough. It has outrageously gone well over my patience limit, and, obviously, I'm not too happy about it. No insane buts, Li Syaoran, my ever-stupidest master. I'm leaving, and not a single kind of threat will ever stop me from doing so. I have a good list of the zillion reasons why I think that this is the right time to take action, and by far, here are the top five:

5.) I can't possibly live with that demonic heck of a cat that insists on residing in my room! Fine, it isn't actually my room, but it's the only place where I could sleep in for the rest of this week, considering that my demonic heck of a master (who else) apparently ordered basically everyone in the mansion that I'm not allowed to sleep in any other bedroom except in his. How insane is that? And although that pesky cat only started to annoy me (attack is a much better word though) just a while ago when we came back from the party, I still can't imagine myself living with two obnoxious Li's around me for the rest of the week!

4.) Ling-Ling, that Satan-sent Li family cat, LOVES Li Syaoran. I swear—if that cat suddenly turned into a woman because of a potion her fairy godmother gave her, I wouldn't be so surprised if she would give up cat-hood just so she could marry him. The scarier part here is that the damned cat HATES me. Like she thinks that I'm going to take her beloved master away from her. Honestly, I can already feel that if I'm not very careful, she will bite my leg off, or scratch my epidermis and dermis off my body, or tear my hair off my scalp with those disgustingly sharp little nails of hers… or maybe all of the above?

3.) The sacred eating ceremony. Oh, I absolutely love the food, no complaints with that. Imagine a very fancy (and very butt-achingly formal) family dinner (that looks like a ceremony to me) where the most delicious stuff you could possibly eat are served for free… the perfect revival of the paradise of Eden! So, yes, I love that part, but here comes the bad part: I don't totally love the `you-are-dining-with-the-whole-Li-clan-so-you-better-not-do-anything-stupid ' law and the `you-can't-make-any-noise-otherwise-you'd-be-babysitting-another-demonic-Li -child-you-food-fight-with' rule. Seriously, what is with this family???

2.) Hiiragizawa Eriol. Well, I like him a lot (not romantically, that is), but the way that he treats His Royal Pain-in-the-Butt and me as a “happy couple” is totally unacceptable! But apart from that, he's easy to like, since he's so nice to me and he's ultimately a gentleman—totally unlike SOMEONE ELSE I know, who is definitely far from being a “knight in shining armor”. So, in conclusion, I can't possibly kill such a sweet guy like Eriol.

But wait, my “evil stepsisters” are also ever-present. Meiling, whose eyes are bulging out of their sockets just with the mere sight of me, and Meixin, who looks totally adorable with her chubby cheeks and all that but in truth is a she-devil/vile sorceress/demonic witch (whichever is the most evil). Oh, and did you know that “Meixin” means “beautiful heart” in Chinese?

So with three members of the Li clan around me and spying on everything I do—or probably we do—I can't possibly be okay with them suspicious that me and His Royal Jerkness are going out and doing you-know-what. Why in the hell would I want to have SEX with Li Syaoran?! Okay, stop scolding me for being so blunt here, but are they out of their minds? The Most Stupid One has millions of girls out there to choose from. And that definitely doesn't include me. Read: He's out of my league.

1.) Li Syaoran himself. Prince Charming? Blech. Fine—he's exceptionally good-looking. He has these broad shoulders (the kind of which you would be tempted to lean on without any reason at all), a tall, lean frame (with the kind of muscles that are extremely sexy in a not-screaming-for-attention way, if you know what I mean), big strong hands with long fingers (which make me wonder how it would feel to have his hand around mine), a perfectly-chiseled jaw without the stubble (nice aftershave, too), messy chestnut-colored hair (that wildly but adorably falls onto his intense amber eyes, which, by the way, always look like as if they're going to swallow you)… and, although I hate to admit this, his six-packs are just… indescribable.

Not that I wanted to or even desired to see the abdominal muscles of my master (or any other parts of his body, for that matter), but I can't help it, especially when he usually comes out of the shower half-naked with only a towel wrapped around his lower body. Totally zero manners! He should have put on a shirt, at least. Let me just ask you this: How many of you has ever seen the future head honcho of a multibillion corporation walking around half-naked while exuding some kind of dark force that practically says, “Hey, I'm rich, I'm gorgeous, look at me and just swoon” just because he has a million-dollar ass and I—or we commoners—don't? Okay, he has the most gorgeous abs I've ever seen (not that I've seen a lot of those, mind you. And that's a big b in the middle of a and s, okay?), and yes, he's everybody's prince. He's “Asia's most wanted bachelor of his generation” who will someday run an entire corporation. He has everything, from the looks to the riches.

But there's one huge glitch. He seems to think that he can have anything at all that he wants. He's someone who can probably mess up your entire life with a snap of his finger, just like how he did with mine. Yes, he's alternating those totally-opposing egos of his once in a while, so he can be bearable at times. And when he's not his usual stupid, arrogant self, he can be okay. But for some reason, I couldn't even put a finger on the “real” him.

And once he's back to the master-slave treatment or the boyfriend-girlfriend act, that part of him that's pretty much incomprehensible, running away from this pain in the ass is the best solution. So far, this jerk is the best reason why I don't want to stay here anymore. Now I've got to pack all of my stuff and then call Tomoyo to tell her that I'm going to interrupt her peaceful life for a while. Goodbye, Your Royal Jerkness. Au revoir. Arrivederci. Adios.

SS—SS—SS—SS—SS—SS—SS— ;SS

Thursday, 12:15noon

Tomoyo told me that she and Eriol are going to meet me here at exactly twelve noon, but I've been waiting for fourteen annoying minutes and twenty-six seconds already—and there's still no freaking sign of them.

Jeez, why am I the one who's always enduring the pain? Fine, it's some kind of a hyperbole, but that doesn't matter. Really, it's like being the clichéd soap opera protagonist who always ends up being maltreated by her evil relatives who only want to kill her so that they could get all of her share of inheritance. Come to think of it, my life now is like Cinderella's, or maybe Snow White's. But hey, at least I'm going to have my share of a happy ending today, because 1) today is the very blissful day after I ran away from Li Syaoran's mansion last midnight, and 2) Tomoyo and Eriol promised to treat me to a luxurious lunch in La Terrazza Dell-Eden.

La Terrazza Dell-Eden! The famous Italian restaurant! It's probably the place where all those billionaires spend their money on just to get their hands on the most expensive and indisputably the best pasta anyone could ever find! I heard somewhere that their ravioli al funghetto tastes like heaven—and I've always thought that the insalata carpese from the Italian fast-food restaurant around the corner of my apartment building are to die for. But to my great happiness, Tomoyo and Eriol (I don't know exactly why Eriol got involved with the scene, but bah) promised me a `you-don't-have-to-pay-for-anything' a.k.a. eat-all-you-can lunch with them as a treat! I don't exactly know why either, but who cares?

Oh, wait. Maybe I really had interrupted something last night, when I came barging in Tomoyo's enormous bedroom (which is about the size of my whole apartment room, by the way) and found all the lights off, except for the lampshade on the side table, and the two making out on the couch. They insisted it was nothing, and although it was quite fishy, I just agreed—although I've seen quite a lot of kissing and I could've sworn there's also some tongue action (damn my exceedingly 20/20 eyesight!)—because I was too stunned to even interrupt.

Anyhow, I guess the two are just trying to cover up that incident I accidentally saw last night, or maybe they don't want it out, or they're just trying to use my weakness so I won't tell a single soul. To be precise, it's technically called “bribery”, and yes, I took what we call the “bait”. But I don't care. I should just let it drop… or I might not get to have another free lunch in La Terrazza Dell-Eden!

Oh, Sakura, just forget your best friend and her supposedly boyfriend's intriguing, front-page-of-the-New-York-Times-deserving kissing scene last night and just be perfectly ecstatic, will you? Think again: I'm going to eat at La Terrazza Dell-Eden, eat all I want and until my stomach can't take it, and live peacefully ever after—without having to obey orders from some master, without having to stay in my master's room, and without having stupid cat hair all over my face the moment I wake up! I have died and gone to heaven! I'm going to live happily ever after as a free woman of this liberal country!

So here I am now, blissfully sitting on this fancy and comfortably-soft royal blue chair, looking all glam just like a top supermodel going to eat her royal lunch for the day, even though I'm only in a pair of jeans. If this is a dream, then I don't want to ever wake up.

I sighed dreamily and looked around again for any signs of Tomoyo and Eriol, but instead, I found a guy in the table in front of mine looking at me and winking when I met his eye. Then he smiled. I stared down and hid my face behind the menu that I was holding to cover my blush. Oh, wow, do I really look that expensive? Whoa, I'm not out of place! I wish Li saw that. He'd regret every single torture he had made me go through and realize that I'm not just some girl who he can order around.

The guy was probably close to my age. And he's cute. Although he looks kind of… stiff, he still looks cute with that expensive-looking, long-sleeved shirt and expensive smile. But come to think of it, he looks too… formal. Like Ken in his usual black tuxedo, with arms that can be moved in only one direction, legs that couldn't be bent, and eyes too glassy that it looks as if they could only focus in one direction. Ken as in Barbie and Ken. Almost too good-looking to be true. Jeez, the Ken look is too… 1950's.

I don't know, but Li suddenly just popped right inside my head again that very second of conclusion. It was as if that's how he'd look if he would just stop rolling his sleeves up to his elbow (just because it's too hot isn't a good reason to), fix his necktie properly (not like it was done by a seven-year old, which is the exact case everyday), and put on some hair gel or use a freaking comb (because his hair is too messy to look that formal—kind of Harry Potter's hair, which, annoyingly, couldn't seem to stay down). But I guess after all, 1950s look wouldn't suit him and it would be better if the casual Li Syaoran will stay.

…Oh my God, did I really think what I just thought? I'm just too hungry to think properly. Yes. That's the reason. That jerk is out of my life. I won't see that Royal Jerk EVER AGAIN—

“Welcome to La Terrazza Dell-Eden, Mr. Li. Let me lead you to your table.”

…WHAT?

I'm just hearing insane things. The waiter didn't just say that, didn't he? My wish that His Royal Jerkness could just see that guy flirting with me just CAN'T come true. No. Freaking. Way. I don't even have a birthday cake—and it's not even my birthday! I'm just hearing some ghastly things. Or I suddenly need a hearing aid. This is just the horrible effect of doing too much slave-work for three whole days.

Oh, God, I can see the guy that the waiter is talking to. He's still beside the door. Okay, Sakura. Try to focus. Your 20/20 eyesight should be perfectly 20/20 up to now, right? So the guy was… wearing a light-blue, a bit businesslike long-sleeved shirt, which is oddly rolled up to his elbows, just like how Li always had his. His navy blue necktie was disarranged against his throat, just like The Jerk's. And his chocolate-colored hair is too messy that he needs a lifetime supply of hair gel, just like… Oh, nooooooo.

I think I need to start running now—spent too much time gawking at him like a very huge freak—Oh no, he saw me!

I quickly dropped the menu on the table, and, athletic abilities in use, dashed madly down the hallway. Not finding a good place to go to (or hide into, that is), I pushed myself inside the elegant ladies' room, which is luckily vacant. Fumbling, I locked the door securely behind me.

What in the world is that Jerk doing here?! And what's going on?! I thought Tomoyo and Eriol are going to eat with me and they're going to—

Oh no.

Oh, God, NO.

I am SO stupid. It's a SET-UP. Tomoyo probably didn't want me to stay at her mansion or something. So she wanted me to meet up with and talk to The Jerk.

I even forced myself to wake up VERY early just for this. And this bad bad bad bad luck is what I get??

I am going to KILL those two traitors. But more importantly, before I get to that mission, I should first focus on getting out of this restaurant in one piece. Don't panic.

Breathe in, breathe out…

Oh, God, am I hyperventilating?

Breathe in, breathe out…

I am. Damnations, I am.

Breathe in, breathe out…

This is totally INSANE. Why am I hiding? I should not be hiding. I should be facing him just like a strong, independent woman would…

In, out…

Oh, that reminds me, I am going to KILL Li Syaoran, too!

In, out…

Okay. I'm not panicking. I'm not hyperventilating. I'm going to stay calm. So here's the plan:

1) Go out of the ladies' room smoothly and calmly, with chin up, stomach in, and chest out.

2) Walk out the restaurant door like there's nothing special happening and that Li Syaoran is not sitting on my table.

3) Quickly call a cab and head directly to apartment.

4) Smack head upon wall to forget all that has happened.

5) Go to sleep even though it's just a little past noon.

Great, this will do.

I quickly pushed the door open, and…

…walked right into Li Syaoran's broad chest.

OhGodthisisnothappeningtome.

I sucked in a thoroughly stunned breath and tried to step back with shaky, unsteady feet, only to unwomanly lose balance and be held back in position by both hands of my master.

So much for that supposed-to-be foolproof plan of escaping His Royal Jerkness. Oh, why didn't I just think about jumping out from the ladies' room window? But then again, I won't probably fit, and it's too high on the ceiling, and we're on the second floor. So I guess with all three cons and zero pros, I'd normally slash out the idea.

Maybe I should develop this new habit of checking my horoscope in the Internet everyday, so that I would know if I shouldn't trust best friends and their boyfriends on a particular day, or else I would end up being humiliated… or maybe something even worse, like struggling to get my forearms out of my master's big, strong hands.

I viciously raked my mind for something sensible to say, like `What the hell are you doing here?' or `Get out of my way', but the pressure's just driving me nuts even more to make me think properly before I leap, so I just went blurting out idiotically, “This is the ladies' room.”

I am definitely going bananas. Why can't I say something that makes sense?! I lost my vocabulary. Yes, that's it. Or more like my vocabulary is intentionally not cooperating with me, so that I can embarrass myself in front of my master, like I always do.

“Nope, this is the hallway, Sakura-chi. The ladies' room is behind you and the men's room is down the hall.”

He only smiled at me afterwards, like it's a very natural fact and it's the intelligent product of his 1,000,000 IQ. Why can't there be a special time that he's at loss for words?

I stuck my chin up. “I need to get back to my table, so I suggest you vacate it right now.”

“So you knew I was here.”

I flinched. “I just had to go to the restroom, so that means you can't bring yourself to occupy our table.”

“So you didn't mean to ignore me.”

The color obviously crept up to my cheeks.

“I-I have to go. Tomoyo and Eriol might be waiting for me outside.”

I struggled to get his big hands off, but they still won't let go. Instead, his hands fully went around my wrists—gods, I was right, how well they fit together—and then he gently pulled me towards his body, so close that I could already smell that scent of his aftershave.

Fully ignoring me, he only said, “Why did you run away last night?”

I almost blurted out `Because of that damned heck of a cat who keeps on abusing me.' Fortunately, I had clamped my mouth shut before I can say anything. Anyway, it's not just about the cat. It's his fault. I never wanted this in the first place. It's logical that I would eventually think of running away. Plus, that cat is really torturing me…

“Isn't it obvious?” I spat at him.

“When will you stop being so angry with me for no reason?”

When hell freezes over, Li. When hell freezes over.

“When are you going to give up?” I retorted.

He only grinned. “When hell freezes over.”

He would have to mimic my thoughts. That's unfair. That's supposed to be my line.

“And when are you planning on leaving me alone so I can enjoy a peaceful lunch with my friends now?”

“Oh, that. I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet.”

I stared at him, wide-eyed, as if a streak of lightning just passed through my brain and made me think very much clearly. “What haven't I figured out yet? Don't tell me t-t-they—y-y-you—”

“If what you're trying to say is that they are just my trustworthy accomplices and I'm the one behind all of this, then you've hit the jackpot.”

I really shouldn't have trusted Tomoyo and Eriol. They're also the ones behind my being a slave after all. And that La Terrazza Dell-Eden eat-all-you-can treat seems too good to be true. Tomoyo can be as stingy as a… a very stingy monkey that only cares for its bananas if she wanted to. God, I should have known that the Jerk would be the one behind all of this.

No, Sakura. You shouldn't be giving up now. Not after you've fought for your life and freedom for so long. Oh God, I sound like an activist. But that doesn't matter. Because everything of this stupidity ends here.

I straightened up so that I was facing him directly, even if I had to really tilt my chin up for our eyes to meet. “Listen, Li,” I began, staring at him. “I'm backing out. I don't want to be your—”

I didn't get the chance to continue. I was instantly silenced by a hand gently tilting my chin up and a pair of soft lips gently closing in on mine.

There's definitely no doubt that Sakura hated the man in front of her. Crows would have to turn bright fuchsia before she learns not to hate him. So then why are her eyelids feeling heavy? Why are they slowly dropping down, giving in to what her instincts tell her to do even if her conscious thoughts push her not to?

She could feel her knees starting to buckle and admit defeat—does she have to thank that strong hand holding her by the waist, since her legs couldn't have managed to support all of her? Her hands instinctively crept up towards his chest—why did it seem so automatic? And instead of fighting back, as what she had originally intended to do, her hands instead held on to the collar of his shirt and stayed there as Li Syaoran continued to kiss her—why??

She should have known that this is what it would be like to be kissing the most sought-after bachelor in Asia. She couldn't even picture herself doing it—although it was beginning to be too difficult not to kiss him back, especially when she's being kissed as thoroughly and as expertly as he's doing to her.

She barely managed to hold back a moan. A soft, muffled purr unmistakably escaped from her mouth that she feared that he had heard it and would get ideas. Was that even her? Sakura, you idiot. It didn't make sense. In one moment, he had made her want to kill him with a shotgun… and in another, he had made her purr like a helpless little kitten.

A voice inside her head told her to stop—that it was all going to be something to regret afterwards… and that no matter how she unbelievably liked the way his lips made her feel sensations she'd never felt before, it was all untrue. But Syaoran's warm lips now nuzzling at the soft spot between her jaw and her ear made her seriously want to consider stopping to resist and just giving in.

She ought to break that unforgivable body contact and run away as planned, but she slowly realized that it can't be possible at all. With that hand now softly caressing that sensitive spot on the back of her neck and the other possessively but gently caressing the length of her back… it was impossible. So unbelievably ethereal. It was the very first time someone ever made her feel that tantalizingly good.

“No—Li—stop—”

“What do you hate so much about me?” His throaty voice reverberated in her ear. It was a question too hard to answer, because of nothing forming inside her head, for one thing, and that just sincere voice made it simply difficult, for another. “Sakura… if you could give me just one chance…”

“Li—”

Instant shivers traveled through her spine as his lips settled behind her earlobe, gently nuzzling exactly the right spot. Did he know all along about how sensitive her ears are?

She felt his body pushing on to hers, locking her body between the wall and his masculine frame. His weight rested on her body, and his lips slowly made their way to her own, jolts of sensations traveling wherever his lips settled. They were fierce, yet feathery-soft and light against hers—professional, but what can she complain about? It was her first time to be kissed like that. She mindlessly parted her lips, slowly…

She was suddenly afire. No matter how her mind contradicted her actions, she was unable to help herself. She wrapped her arms about his neck, and, buried in her own thoughts—she swore it wasn't really her—she kissed him back. And with her pulse racing inside her chest, she felt hell freezing over. She gave in.

For the very first time, she found herself trusting him. She trusted his hands that held the sides of her face and the fingers that threaded through her hair. She trusted his lips that softly devoured hers, as if they already knew her lips for such a long time. She trusted the rich, arrogant man whom she had just known for merely four days. She trusted the most wanted playboy—the man who claimed her as his slave.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a question came to mind without warning, making her conscious about everything again: What am I doing?

The answer came crashing down hard, realization hitting her like lightning: Oh God, I am kissing my mortal enemy.

She quickly broke away from him, breathing in huge amounts of air as hard as he was, partly because she was nervous of the thought that a lot of people might have seen them, and partly because she was thoroughly out of breath. And maybe… partly because it was her first real kiss. No thanks to Li Syaoran, she'd lost it to someone whom she loved to hate with all her life.

She was flushed. She could even feel the heat on her cheeks. “It doesn't make sense,” she tried to say firmly, but all that came out was a soft whisper, barely audible. Her hands unconsciously stayed on his chest.

He, too, was breathing hard. “What do you mean?”

Does he even have a heart? She was thoroughly taken aback at how nonchalant his reply sounded—considering the fact that he had KISSED her. And what's more, she could've even sworn that she actually felt something… Like he kissed like he meant it.

“You kissed me!” Every word still came out as a faint, angry hiss, and her hand let go of his shirt with a push. “What did you do that for?!”

“You kissed me back.”

He then faintly laughed at her guilty flush.

“But it still… doesn't make any sense,” Sakura softly insisted, wanting to shrink back with embarrassment. Yes, she had kissed him back. And she knew that. It was, to her, still a pure mystery, but what she didn't understand most was the logical reason why he had kissed her in the first place. “Why did you do it?”

Silence.

SS—SS—SS—SS—SS—SS—SS&# 8212;SS

Syaoran forced himself to purse his lips closed tight, or else he just might blurt out some things that he didn't want her to know. Like how he really kissed her sincerely. Like how he meant everything of it. Like it was the very first time that he had felt something else with a kiss, something that made him feel like it was the right thing to do. No, she shouldn't know about all that.

He avoided her eyes, afraid that his own eyes would betray him. “Does it matter?” he said in a soft voice.

Yes, it does, his mind said quickly. It means something to me. But a little white lie wouldn't hurt, would it?

“You're right.”

“What?” He looked up at her, surprised. Her eyes were firm. What?

“You're right. Everything that happened within the past few days doesn't really mean anything. I don't even want to see your face ever again, so it doesn't matter—”

No. No…

“Sakura.” He firmly seized her eyes. “Let's make a deal. Let's start all over again. We'll go out for this day, but just as us. And if everything works out fine, you'll give this a chance and stay, even maybe for just the fun of it. If not, then you're not going to see me again.”

Sakura remained silent. She only stared at him. It didn't take too long. With a shrug, she just said, “Deal.”

“Give me your wallet.”

I looked up at Sakura. Okay, something isn't right. In fact, something is very wrong. This is not exactly the very first thing she made me do, you see. First, she told me she doesn't want to eat at La Terrazza anymore (I thought Daidouji said she would die for pasta??). Then she made me leave my car behind, made me hail a cab, made me pay 720 yen for just a very short ride, and that's not all, she literally hauled me to this public park. Now here we are, strolling amidst parents running after their children and kids bawling over balloons that escaped from their hand or ice creams melting down and splattering against their favorite shirt. Very fitting location for a supposed-to-be `going out for the day', huh?

“Hello, is someone in there?” I immediately snapped back to reality and saw her hand waving in front of my eyes and the other hand already waiting outstretched in front of me, palm up. So now, after all that, she's getting me to hand my wallet in. I'm already dreading what she's going to make me do next.

I barely managed a playful grin. “Hey, don't be too jealous. You're not going to find pictures of women here, you know.”

Her eyes flamed up at me.

“Hey, there are such things called `jokes', you know,” I said. “What are you going to do with it, anyway? You're not going to rob me some money, are you?”

“Do I look like a robber to you? I'm not that desperate enough to steal some of your cash, mister. I work for my own money, you know.”

“A joke, okay, J-O-K-E.” I finally handed my wallet in to her waiting hand. And yes, you don't look like a robber. Unless robbers can be that beautiful.

But I didn't say that aloud. Or I'm sure she'll throw me out to Pluto. Or somewhere even farther than Pluto.

“Aww, no pictures of any girlfriends?” she remarked as she flipped it open.

“Told you.”

Well, I'm not exactly in for commitment, if you ask why. The feeling of being “in love” is really just a chemical reaction that happens in the brain, caused by surges of something called phenylethylamine, which is a stimulant the brain craves. This fact tells us that no one really “loves” anyone. People just get attracted to another because of our natural mating instinct—or to be a bit frank—sexual desire.

But although that attraction can cause us to be in a state of happiness, unfortunately, it doesn't last long. Like with all drugs, the body grows a tolerance for phenylethylamine, and eventually, the attraction one once felt for his or her partner fades. And by the way, one can even get the same amount of phenylethylamine by consuming immense amounts of chocolate, as you can by “falling in love”. So who needs commitment if it's not even forever?

“Anyway…” She pulled out a 1,000 yen bill and handed my wallet back. “For this whole day, we're going out—with only one thousand yen. Don't you try sneaking out a couple more, or you really won't see me again. Got it?”

“Hey, that won't even be enough for decent food!”

“But we're not going to eat at some `decent restaurant' that you have in mind. A thousand is going to be enough for the two of us. Unless you eat three times as much as you should be eating, then that's going to be hard.”

But still.

“And I'm not even saying that we are going to have a `date',” she pointed out with a glare. “It's simply `waiting for time to pass'. And you're obviously talking about 20,000 yen per head `for-VIPs-only-and-no-part-time-café-waitresses-living-in-lousy-apartm ents' restaurants. You're the only one who could actually belong there, you know, and not me.”

Fine, I go to those places a lot. And they do serve lunch for 200 dollars per person. But actually, I don't really feel that I really “belong” there. It's more like I only got used to them. Honestly, all the formality is too much, like what you'd see around your table would be the president of some company, a top-ranking legislator, or a famous movie actress. And I wouldn't want to be all tight and too-ceremonial on Sakura, so I guess I'd slash out the idea. But really good food once in a while won't probably hurt, right?

“Fine, you win,” I sighed. Really, if it's going to be the other way around, where I'm going to be the slave and she's the master, I'll die—in a figurative sense, at least. “So what can we possibly do with just one thousand yen, huh? Buy some ice cream or what?”

She looked at me in a way that it made me feel like she's having fun with doing her revenge for all that I've done. She smiled and pointed at the ice cream cart standing nearby. “Hmm, that sounds good.”

What happened next is like a dream. Two Belgian waffle cones of chocolate plus vanilla plus cookies-and-cream ice cream and two—what are those supposed to be called again?—kind of `twisted balloons' thing, and I wasted 300 yen already (but at least they were in a reasonable price). But there's one more thing: We're sitting on a swing. Eating triple-decker ice cream. With these funny, bunny-shaped twisted balloons sitting on top of our heads.

Yeah, a dream. But it's good. As long as I'm with Sakura, everything's good. The romantic strolling through the grass with the sunset while holding hands would be forever impossible, though. And sitting inside the movies, watching a romantic comedy film and enjoying the two-and-a-half-hour lights-out, and the dinner in a nice, homey restaurant with a nice, romantic terrace overlooking the whole city while you could see the lights…

“I always feel good while eating ice cream,” Sakura suddenly said, breaking the awkward silence between the two of us.

“And while having a stupid balloon on your head.”

She giggled and began to push backwards and swing up. “Dad always bought me ice cream whenever I throw a tantrum.” She laughed. “I guess it was really effective.”

“So how do the balloons fit in to the scene?”

She laughed some more. “I just think they're cute. Don't you think so?”

I only managed to laugh back.

To be honest, I didn't exactly know what to answer. This is the very first time in my life that I ever felt speechless. I'm usually the one who makes others speechless, but now I can't help but stay silent in front of this girl. Maybe it's just so much of her to take in. It was as if every single piece of her should be taken in slowly, savoring every bit of what she's saying about herself.

It was especially hard enough for me to pry my eyes off hers—that is, when she doesn't slug me instantly and I actually have the chance to look at her for so long. I don't know. She usually looks at me with all this hate and loathing, but I couldn't help but admire those eyes.

Now that we'd made this deal, it makes matters worse. Her eyes actually looked… heavenly. It was a friendly atmosphere between the two of us, and I felt completely comfortable with her. I felt that I could laugh all I want, snort when I want to, and get lost within our conversations in front of her. There wasn't any hint of anger in her eyes, and it makes me feel at ease.

If we had just met as friends, or we've known each other since we've been in OshKosh overalls, maybe she'd look at me differently. Maybe I could really see in her eyes what she really thinks or feels about. Or maybe she'd let me know.

Seeing her eyes and not thoroughly understanding them makes me want to know more about her… her strengths, weaknesses, her faults and achievements… how she goes around daily… her life… everything about Kinomoto Sakura. What did I do to know her more for the last three days? Nothing. Up to now, I don't really know everything about who she really is.

But come to think of it, I didn't try to let her know more about me, too. Maybe I have been intentionally avoiding the subject all the time. Or maybe I'm just not the type of person to engage in storytelling mode and narrate my life story.

“Hey, still alive?”

I instantly snapped back to reality, just to find Sakura's hand waving again in front of my eyes. I only managed to blink back in return.

“What, having a bad stomachache, my lord?” she teased.

Damn, Li Syaoran, if you could just FOCUS, REGAIN YOUR VOCABULARY, and SNAP OUT OF IT. But scolding myself didn't work. All that came out from my mouth was unfortunately an absentminded confession: “I'm running out of things to say.”

And what I didn't expect was her guilty, “Actually, me too.”

I looked at her silently. I think I'm the most speechless idiot in the whole universe right now. Not that there are other idiotic and speechless individuals beyond the exosphere of the Earth, but we can never be so sure.

“Why don't we try this: you talk and I'll listen?” she suddenly suggested. “You haven't exactly been talkative at all.”

“Maybe I just don't have anything to talk about.”

Or maybe I just want to stare at you like this forever. Who cares about talking?

Sakura only pouted.

Does she know that she looks cute doing that?

I raked my head for something to say. Anything. ANYTHING.

“Sakura-chi?”

She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Uh…” A long pause. “Are you hungry?”

She looked at me with mock sympathy. “That's pathetic, Li. I think you're really truly running out of things to say.”

“Are you psychic?”

“No, but yes, I'm hungry.”

I only laughed, and then stood up. “Come on. Let's go some place where decent food isn't going to cost more than 700 yen.”

I held her hand and then pulled her to her feet. And, I'm not so sure if it's my imagination or if it's real, but somewhere along the way, while we were walking out of the park, I felt her holding my hand back.