[A/N] Hi everyone! I'm new to this fandom, but I've been loving SyaoSaku for a while and had this idea brewing for a while that I just couldn't wait to share. Though the first few chapters, especially this prologue, are tame, there will be explicit content in future chapters and that is why I have given this an M rating.

Little boring fact/backstory about this, but I decided to name this fic after a song by Red Velvet because when I saw the title I assumed it would be pretty sexual, but listening to it I found it is a beautiful song depicting the end of a relationship - I feel this perfectly encompasses the mood and overall tone of this story. So, that's why this story is called Body Talk and, though the themes are sexual, it is also detailing troubles in their relationship due to a prophecy.

I hope you enjoy! I will try to get the first chapter up as soon as it's done, because I am admittedly very excited about sharing this story and seeing what everyone thinks. Thank you ~ !

[Edit: The only sources that could be found for the brand new cover image is from reposts or a Tumblr blog that may be the artist, but I'm really not sure. If anyone knows the artist of the cover art I would really appreciate being told so I can give them the credit they deserve. Thanks!]

BODY TALK

PROLOGUE [寓言 - Yùyán - Prophecy]

August 2001

Hong Kong

The afternoon sun drummed against the window, the ventilation system in the Li library the only saviour from the unrelenting Chinese late summer heat. Syaoran wiped a hand across his forehead, catching beads of sweat on the back of his hand as he scoured the shelves for a specific book his mother had asked him to fetch for her, his finger running along the spine of each book as he passed to find the exact one she wanted. Li Yelan had amassed quite the impressive collection that filled the mansion's library, the extent of the collection having been inherited and handed down through the Li clan from Clow Reed himself.

He stood on a stool to reach the higher shelves, studying the Chinese characters for each book carefully to ensure he picked up the correct one. Sometimes he couldn't help but resent his ancestor Clow for choosing to write so many books that ultimately landed in Yelan's collection. She seemed to always want the one book that often happened to be the most troublesome to locate, Syaoran found.

Suddenly, Syaoran lost his balance as a book flew towards him, sending him backwards and landing on his back on the wooden floor. He groaned, turning to find the book that had caused him to tumble. Combing his fingers through his hair, he looked up at the shelf where it came from, surprised to find the gap that it should have left was minimal. Syaoran then turned to the book on the floor, open on a page, and his eyes widened as he realised it had opened on an almost blank page bar from a few sentences. Three, to be exact. Strange, came to Syaoran's mind, but curiosity got the better of him as something in him brought up the possibility of it being the book his mother had beckoned him for. Coincidences and magic were tightly combined, almost interchangeable if not identical, and so the idea wasn't completely absurd; at least, it wasn't one to rule out.

Shifting slightly so that he would sit up on his knees, he dragged the book towards him and closed it, not realising he was holding one hand on the pages inside so that he wouldn't lose them once he had studied the cover. He felt something smooth underneath his fingertips, and looked down at his index finger to find dust had gathered. Even when he swiped some of the dust away from the front and back covers, no characters were ever revealed to him. It was completely blank, nameless. It was most likely not the book his mother wanted. However, instead of simply returning it to the space where he had found it (or rather, where it had flown out as if it had a mind of its own) he continued to study it, as if waiting for a title to appear. Syaoran looked up at the shelves for a few moments, unable to shake the feeling that the book in particular hadn't been hanging off the edge. In fact, judging by the tiny gap in between the two books it had been wedged between, it had been tightly packed on the shelf and, logically, it shouldn't have been able to move. There's no way…

Maybe something made it so that I had no choice but to read it… maybe this isn't a coincidence…

Shaking his head as if accepting the idea was somewhat absurd, Syaoran started to flick through the book, the breeze that blew into his face each time the page turned strengthening the musty smell. This book hadn't been touched in years, perhaps even decades, maybe even never touched at all. The pages were all blank, the only full page being the one it had landed on when it fell to the floor; even then, it wasn't overflowing with words like most of the books Syaoran had seen Yelan reading or had even read himself.

Finding the pages again, which wasn't difficult considering how it was the only page with any imprint on it at all, he realised it was all the same sentence written in three different ways: first, Chinese, followed by English, and then, underneath that, Japanese.

He knew they all said the same thing as one another; he was fluent in all three. Still, he checked each sentence carefully to ensure he was reading the same sentence over. Words were different and there were obvious nuances in each, but it still proclaimed the same message:

When two persons wielding an exceptional amount of power come together in the act of coitus, their powers can potentially combine and meld together so dangerously it could result in extreme draining of power or – in the most terrible of circumstances – death.

It was clear in all three languages. It couldn't be mistaken nor misinterpreted. So why, then, was Syaoran scanning the sentences as if frantically hoping the meanings would change?

The Japanese sentence caught Syaoran the most. Though all were handwritten, the final sentence at the bottom of the page seemed new, the ink more pigmented than the first two. Syaoran even felt that if he were to press his finger to the Japanese characters, the tip of his finger would be blackened and wet. The book had not been tampered with. That much was evident, the dust coating the covers like clouds proving it hadn't been touched let alone opened. There had to be a reason why it was the only thing written in a book that was otherwise empty. There had to be a reason why it was written in not only Chinese and English, but now Japanese as well. There had to be a reason why it was shown to Syaoran like some sort of prophecy, rather than a coincidence.

There had to be a reason why Syaoran's breath had hitched, why his throat had tightened and isolated itself…

Sakura…

That was the reason.

A week later

Tomoeda

Swarms of fireflies surrounded the garish decorations adorning Tsukimine Shrine as it celebrated an end of summer festival, their glowing green lights a perfect rival for the lamp posts and beautifully lit stalls and attractions dotted across the grounds. The cool night breeze swept through Syaoran's hair, and he watched as Sakura's bangs were lifted as the air wrapped around them, encompassing them.

Sakura had grabbed Syaoran's wrist as they walked with her group of friends through the festival, an expression that spelled trepidation. When he turned to her to ask what was wrong, Sakura had simply asked if they could distance themselves from everyone else to 'talk privately'. Syaoran would be lying if he said dread hadn't washed through him, even though there was no reason why Sakura would be sharing something troubling all of a sudden, especially in a public place. The only thing that sprung to mind was Syaoran believing Sakura had realised she deserved better, but even he was aware it was his own paranoia niggling at him. Still, he excused them, and led her to a secluded area surrounded by trees and the brilliant light of fireflies that guided their way into the woods.

Syaoran had decided to return to Tomoeda a week earlier than he had said – a week before school was due to start again – just to see Sakura. Part of him wanted to tell her the premonition that had suddenly been revealed to him, to share his concerns with her, but the dominant part of him convinced him to keep it to himself, lest he troubled her needlessly. Her face had lit up, a smile so bright it could blind Syaoran if he wasn't careful, when he showed up earlier than she had anticipated. He never wanted to forget that. He never wanted to be the reason that her face stopped looking like that.

He just couldn't bring himself to tell her.

She doesn't need to know yet… Syaoran told himself in the nights he spent wide awake, deliberating and debating with himself over whether he should confess. She would understand, another side of him told him. We're still young. We won't be doing… that… until we're older. I'll tell her then… He sealed it with a promise.

Syaoran was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice when Sakura stopped walking, turning to face him. Sensing she was stood beside him, Syaoran turned around to face her, instantly feeling his heart lodge in his throat when she smiled up at him.

"Syaoran!"

The way Sakura said his name never failed to melt all the coldness inside of him, thawing the ice of the layers he had built between himself and other people.

She looked up at the sky, gesturing with her eyes to the stars twinkling, burning against the black velvet of the sky. "The stars look so beautiful tonight, don't they?"

Syaoran smiled softly to her. "Yeah."

The words pushed up to his throat, lingering on the back of his tongue, but Sakura spoke and he somehow forgot all his worries. She could do that within seconds. "Syaoran…"

Syaoran took her hand in his, squeezing it comfortingly with affirmation, momentarily unsure whom he was trying to reassure – her, or himself. She laced her fingers through the gaps between his, marvelling at how well they fit like perfect puzzle pieces. Every time she held onto his hand, Sakura grew more and more convinced that the invisible red thread of fate was wrapped around their pinkies, connecting one another spiritually.

"When we're older…" Sakura took a breath, lowering her voice. Her cheeks were a rosy tint and she glanced down at the ground, shifting slightly as she continued shyly, "I'd… I'd like you to be my first."

Syaoran stiffened, every muscle in his body tightening, including the grip on her hand. "W-What do you mean?" He knew exactly what she meant.

"When we're older," she repeated, pausing for a few seconds as she found her words. She still couldn't bring herself to look up at him, and his cheeks matched the pink in hers as he blushed, swearing he saw the stars reflected in her emerald eyes. He would pull stars together and align planets if it meant he could share the rest of his life with Sakura – to kiss her for the first and last time, to marry her, to completely become one with her… in every way physically possible.

So why was he finding it so difficult to grasp?

"We're too young now…" Sakura continued trying to explain. "But, when we're older… I'd like to… I'd like you to be my first and only."

Syaoran let out the breath he didn't realise he had been holding for so long. "M-Me too."

The voice was unmistakably his, the words evidently chosen by him... but he didn't feel that he had said them. It had slipped out. It didn't make it any less true, nor sincere; he really did want to give everything and beyond to the girl standing in front of him. When she looked up to the sky to see the stars dancing across the navy blue, Syaoran couldn't take his eyes off of her. The stars' illumination was nothing compared to Sakura's. It was the fact that he was aware that giving himself to her and vice versa could potentially ruin each other more than Sakura could ever understand. Guilt was rising to his throat tasting like bile, and yet he still couldn't tell her.

Sakura slid her hand out of his, startling him enough that it felt like her warmth had completely faded from his hand where hers was now absent. She smiled warmly up at him, all heat returning to every part of his body as she held up a pinky finger.

"Let's promise!" Sakura giggled, thrusting her finger closer to him for him to understand.

Syaoran trembled, lifting his own pinky reluctantly. He knew that the minute he swore to their promise, he was damning not only him but her as well. He knew the minute his pinky embraced hers, he was sealing their fate. He didn't understand why the words were there, stuck in his throat, threatening to spill out, and yet he couldn't bring himself to tell her. Maybe it would be fine… maybe he had interpreted it all wrong… maybe it wasn't meant for him, and it truly was all a coincidence. Maybe he could go a few years without needing to tell her.

All he knew for sure was that the girl he truly loved was standing in front of him, holding her pinky out and asking for him to be hers completely. How could he decline?

He hooked his pinky around hers, electricity shooting down the veins in his wrist from both the feel of her skin beneath him and the sealing of the most dangerous promise Syaoran could ever make.