Hi all;

The poll has closed and it's been decided that Bite the Bullet is to be the first of two original CCS fiction I will be writing in the course of the next few years. I'll be roasting the next story once this one is finished. That also means you have lots to look forward to in the future.

Here's it goes. Bite the Bullet is basically my version of the Card Capturing days in a totally new context, but it's still loosely based on the manga with nineteen cards. The characters are older, so I make them maturer than CLAMP's ten-year-olds. There's this humongous twist at the end that has been absolutely architect by me. Otherwise, a lot of the sealing cards scenes are borrowed from CLAMP, though there's bits of originality to the similarities. That doesn't mean that all the card capturing scenes are the same. Some, in fact, are different from CLAMP's original manga. You can test your knowledge and fanaticism if you could tell me which card scenes from my story are similar to the card scenes in the manga. There's just so much of CLAMP that could never be lost.

Today, I have started off this story with a prologue to the prologue. Sakura will introduce you to herself and some side characters. You're probably wondering why side characters are so important to me. The only thing I'll give away is that sides come with the main course in some places. That's the law of dining here.

So now take a moment to read the disclaimer, read the prologue to the prologue, and tell me what you're thinking in your splendid reviews. One word responses are acceptable and loved.

Cheers!

MistyWing

Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura does not belong to me. I have no rights to the characters, magic, and other such stuff pertaining to Card Captor Sakura.

Bite the Bullet

By MistyWing

"Prologue to a Prologue"

They could chew you up and spit you out, they could steamroll you over and make you lie as flat as a Persian rug, they could scrape your guts out and turn you inside out, but my advice to you for getting through all these forms of torture would be to bite the bullet. Now, that's the kind of stuff my rich great-grandfather spoon fed me everyday. He used to do all sorts of stuff with me while I grew up in his big house. For instance, he took me to work and made me watch what he did for a living during my summer breaks. He might have taken me to some sporting events with a group of his friends, who were as old as the artifacts Grandfather purchased and placed in the main hall of one of his beach houses. Yet, I was also the grandchild who didn't belong in his crowd. To get rid of me, he sometimes told me to stay in my room and read while he went off and did whatever he wanted to do. I wasn't one to protest. From what I've seen on T.V. and the internet, this wasn't what people called normal behavior in my grandfather or in me. What was more troubling about all this was that I actually listened to the old man back then.

For all my twenty-six years on this planet, I have never called anyone my best friend. In fact, I didn't have any friends. I didn't socialize, dance, drink or have any sort of fun I watch on television. I just sit in front of my computer or my T.V. gazing at nonsense during my down times. The more time I spent in front of a screen the less time I had to deal with my stigmatism.

The clueless and wimpy child that I had been was now this stick-in-the-mud who did and said whatever you told her to do or say. I only verbally abused people under my breath when they were at least a hundred yards away. "Stupid lowlife Syaoran. Big phony showoff."

I stopped at the end of the crosswalk and heard the businessman beside me mutter, "Weird broad." I didn't even glance at the guy to face him because I hate confrontation. I knew he was talking about me because everyone called me names along those lines when I get caught muttering to myself. Habits were hard to break.

But, my boss, Syaoran Li, was still a grade-A jerk wad. Who demands that his personal assistant be at the diner four blocks from his office in five minutes or he fires her sorry ass to hell? I had taken the stairs to spare myself a two minute elevator ride down, but even now I realized, glancing at my digital watch, that I had less than 20.5 seconds to cross the street and enter the diner. The "Don't Walk" orange signal lit up for what seemed like an infinitesimal second. By the time I could cross, I only had 13 seconds to enter the diner and find his table.

I only began to catch my breath when I finally reached my destination. Entering the place, my eyes automatically honed in on my target to the far end of the room. I vigorously shook my head at the maitre asking me if I had a reservation. I swiftly dodged him as I calmly speed walked up to the table where two physically opposite men sat and had their lunch. I recognized Syaoran for his dark-as-the-demonic-devil-in-his-black-blazer-look. His messy short brown hair was hard to miss in a gelled, stable, static-free hair environment. Across from him was a man in a white suit and a blue-gray tie. His long hair was the color of Grandfather's beard. This first time I saw him I named him White Suit on the spot.

I bowed my head and kept my eyes to the immaculate carpet as I crossed the restaurant to reach them. I slid the file on the table until I felt it bump against Syaoran's hand. The Devil they called a man snatched the file from under my fingers without a 'thank you' while he continued to chat with White Suit. "God-awful training sessions that lasted into the night… I must have been inhumane like somepeople."

Inhumane was an understatement, I thought. He was an ungrateful fiend. Why, someone ought to teach him some manners that he so obviously lacks. I didn't have the guts to be that someone, though. Such challenges were for the confrontational-brave-of-heart.

White Suit sounded amused as he spoke to Syaoran. "This must be your new assistant."

"She's been with the company for a month. Ever since Takashi left, I've been stuck with her."

I bristled at his spiteful tone. Yet, I don't rebuff or burst into tears. I figuratively bite the bullet as my boss butchered me like a slab of meat in front of his associate.

"Around a month hardly discounts her from being new," said White Suit.

We all paused when we heard the buzz of my vibrating cell phone. Thank Lord for the bothersome grandfathers and brothers out there because they were the only ones who might call me at this time of day or anytime of day, for that matter. Grandfather and Touya habitually called me during my lunch hour like they have nothing else better to do, but nag my sorry self.

I raised my head and gave the two men an apologetic smile. Without leaving my spot next to the table, I turned my back to them and answered Touya's call.

"Are you coming to dinner at Grandfather's tonight?"

"Um, can I call you back at a better time?" I stage whispered.

"It's a simple yes or no, Shrimp."

"Uh, I think…" I lost my voice as I noticed the couple coming into the diner. I gave off a strangled gasp that probably made the ever so dapper men behind me look up from their quiet conversation.

"It's Friday; guys go out with other guys for drinks," Touya grumbled, impatiently. "I'm sure your hot date will be too busy to care if you ditch him this once."

I started grinding my teeth together, oblivious to Touya's voice. My eyes were concentrating on a couple that had just walked into the room. The couple paused in front of the smiling maitre. I snapped out of my trance when the both of them, led by the maitre, stopped at the table right next to Syaoran's table, and the male I recognized did not even notice me!

"Hey, are you listening to a word I'm…" I disconnected the call and bit down on the fingernail of my pinky. I gave off another sharp gasp when I saw the man wrap an arm around his female companion and pull her into a hard kiss. I saw his tongue dart into her mouth. Inside I was retching, but outward appearance showed my complete and open confusion.

Not quite myself anymore, I hollered in their direction, "Ken, what're you, in the name of all that's holy, doing to that poor woman when you're still with me?"

The man disengaged from his kissing partner and stared up at me with a look of shock. "Sakura," he stuttered, a blush coming over his face. Believe me when I say this, my blood was at a boiling point compared to what he was feeling.

"Answer me, Scumbag-of-the-lowliest-order!"

He gave me an uneasy look that he probably gave a billion other women. I scrubbed off the frown on my face and really took a staid look at him, reading everything about him in that expression he gave me. Something clicked inside my head… He lied to all the women he picked up like many of the male protagonists in the movies and internet fiction. Disgusted at this revelation, I gave him the most revolted and cynical look I was capable of giving anyone. "Just because I won't let you in my pants you hook up with other women who might. I think I'm going to be sick." I slammed my phone-holding-hand on his table. I winced as I heard some internal parts jiggle loose.

I couldn't bear to stare at his shamefully reddened face. I wish I could tell him to go to hell, but I'm the one who's supposed to go some place because I didn't have a lunch reservation. It's just like being role players in the movies. I felt as lowly as the ant that was squished between the sole of a man's foot and a man's paved road.

"Sakura, stop shouting now," Syaoran said to me. At some point in time he must have stood up behind me. My thoughts were still going at the speed of light when my head snapped up at the sound of his irritated voice. I was on a roll with my hollering, so why should I stop now? My mouth was moving quicker than my thoughts.

I turned my head around and looked over my shoulder at my plenty-neat boss. "Don't tell me what to do anymore," I scoffed in a voice I could not recognize as my own.

He gave me a deranged look of scorn, "Come again, Sakura."

Oh, I could come again ten-fold, you big-fart-of-a-bully. I waved my phone at him as I articulated in sincerity, "I don't plan on staying long with your company. In fact, I won't even complete the rest of my work day. Breach of contract? Sue me and see if I care." For emphasis I hurled my broken cell phone into his chest. It could not have hurt, since he only stood a foot in front of me when I chucked it at him. Throwing things did not make me feel the slightest bit less hurt about Ken or Syaoran or myself. Maybe that's why I didn't usually throw temper tantrums. Why waste time expressing rage when there were so many more worthwhile things to be passionate about?

Syaoran caught my phone and Ken gave me this peculiar look of awe. I probably looked and acted as strange as I'd ever been. The feeling of liberation was a short-lived feeling. The second I stepped out of the diner I felt like jumping in front of a moving vehicle. What had I done? How was I going to pay for my own rent without asking Grandfather for money? I once swore I would never put myself in the situation in which I would have to return to my childhood home. That was supposed to be behind me, a thing of the past, let bygone be bygones.

Now that I was down in the lowliest part of my depressing life, something mysterious caught my attention. I paused in front of the window display of a store I never noticed since a month that I started working on the same block. It was the poster on display that had stopped me in my tracks. I stepped to the side to prevent my carelessness from stopping the foot traffic around me. My eyes remained constantly attracted to the poster taped to the window.

The poster depicted a gold circular design. The two outer rings of the circle encased three squares one on top of another, their corners angled at thirty degrees. In the center of the squares was the golden symbol of the sun. To the left corner of the circle was the depiction of a crescent moon in its own personal circle. There were also cursive English letters as well as Chinese calligraphy etched on the lines. I wasn't an artsy buff or anything, yet I thought it was a very cool, original, and artistic design.

I glanced up at the banner over the front door and smiled to myself. It read Clow Bookstore. If I wanted to start all over and find a real job where I could actually go somewhere in life I might as well start by opening a book, right? I was already opening the door and walking into a whole new world before I could even reconsider. Wonderful, I thought, as I heard the bell jingle when the door shut behind me. I walked out of the hard, despicable reality and walked into a musky and dusty smelling realm of another world. The only person in this new world was an unreal fellow indeed. The guy behind the counter, probably the owner of the store, was staring at me with a wide and clandestine grin on his face.