All In A (Very Long) Day's Work
Story Summary: On the run from the Elders and his responsibilities as the leader of the Li Clan, a penniless Syaoran escapes to Tomoeda, where he tackles several uncool jobs to hilarious results. Potential SxS, AU.
Disclaimer: All characters are CLAMP's.
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Syaoran slammed the sheathed sword onto the mahogany table, everyone wincing as it left a deep skid mark in the varnish. One of the Elders began, "Do not be rude, child-" but was cut off by Syaoran's chilly voice, spitting out his words with a cold, intense anger.
"Shut the hell up, old man. I'm not going to stick around and get my life royally screwed up by a bunch of old faggots. Cancel the bloody engagement, there's no way in hell I'm agreeing to it."
He lifted the tasseled, gold-veined handle of the sword, then contemptuously dropped it onto the table again. "Return their engagement gifts right now. I will not tolerate such utter idiocy." Across the room, an old man in a deep red mandarin robe stood up jerkily, holding a tall wooden staff in one hand to support himself. His lip curled over his scanty white beard.
"And I will not tolerate such disrespect either."
His bony hands were gripping the thick staff so tightly that his knuckles were glowing white under the wrinkled, mottled skin. "You do not have a choice. Do not even presume to think you have a say in this matter."
A muscle in the young man's jaw twitched. "Because of what? Again, the over-rated-" he formed insolent inverted commas in the air with his fingers- "'honour' of the Li Clan?" The red-robed Elder struck the floor angrily with the bottom of his dragon-carved staff. "Your life is not your own. As the only son of the Li Clan you have a duty to your ancestors and kinsmen-"
"Bullshit!" Syaoran spat vehemently. "Hear this, old man. I have given up twenty years of my life. You will not get a day more from me." With this, he walked past the rest of the seated Elders, and strode out of the room, taking care to kick the door shut behind him.
The loud slam and the shouts of anger from behind it gave him a measure of satisfaction, and he silently told himself it marked the closure of a part of his life. He would not ever return.
"Summon Yelan," the red-robed Elder commanded. "We should have taken the boy from the start as planned. She will be punished for not raising a worthy leader of our Clan. The engagement will proceed as planned; do not let the boy leave the house, and do not let his mother see him. He will be confined till he learns the extent of his responsibility."
But by the time the order went down to the guard post by the gates, Syaoran had already gone.
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"I really need your help this time, Meiling… "
"No."
"Please, Meiling…"
"No."
"Meiling…"
"No."
"I'll give you my firstborn, my first million, my car, my horses, my villa in Bali, and all my credit cards, just please, please, please, please give me my passport Meiling!"
The petite black haired girl faked an expression of hard consideration, dimpling her chin with a finger and flicking her eyes upwards.
"Hmmmmmmmmmmm… okay."
Syaoran heaved a dramatic sigh, and got off the floor, rubbing his knees. "You did that just to be difficult, didn't you. You'd already decided to help me but just had to keep me waiting in agony a little longer."
His cousin flashed him a bright smile. "I also like to see you grovel."
The misleadingly diminutive Chinese girl was dressed in a lime green form-fitting cheongsam with black trimmings, and had her hair braided and coiled around a ear, fastened at the side by an elegant gold and jade hairpin.
But Syaoran didn't notice- he only saw that her bright eyes had a glint of evil in them. Shit… he knew that look…
Meiling frowned in an overly ditzy manner and pouted. "But there's a leetle problem, dear cousin… I can't really remember where I kept it. Besides, I've got a posh dinner engagement about now, so I don't have the time to go hunting for it."
She mock-sighed. "You know, all those worries about my overdrawn bank account have, very unfortunately, displaced the memory of the location of your passport from my mind."
Now he remembered when he'd last seen that expression. When they were around seventeen years old, she had called up his school fan club and told them that he was secretly gay- just because he'd ratted out on her to her mother about her spending habits.
And that was just the beginning. Even thinking about what happened after still made him break out in cold sweat years after. She'd told him that he would pay. Man, that woman really knew how to hold a grudge.
The brunette was practically shaking in panic now. "MEILING! I NEED MY PASSPORT NOW!" He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and tossed a stack of cash, along with all of his credit cards, to her. "DO YOU WANT TO SEE THE ELDERS PARADING MY BLOODSTAINED BODY ALL OVER GODDAMNED CHINA!"
"Alright, alright, there's no need to shout." She made as if to undo the straps of the black heels she had just put on before Syaoran came in, but thought better of it when she saw his agonised expression.
She got up from the sofa, smoothed down her dress, and patted her braid. Only then did she haughtily walk to her room, back ramrod straight.
Syaoran started to follow her but chickened out when she turned and glared at him, before slamming her door shut. He could hear muffled noises coming from inside the room- her heels striking the floor, making decisive 'clop clop' sounds.
The clicking sounds of the safe's combination lock being opened. Silence. Then the sound of the safe being slammed shut. Heels again.
Meiling opened the door, and Syaoran was relieved to note that she held something in her hand. She opened the (sealed, he noted) large white envelope she held and popped the slim book out into his outstretched hands.
"Thank you."
He quickly riffled through the pages to make sure it was his before stuffing it into his back pocket and rushing to the main door of the posh apartment, grabbing his coat from where it was slung over a chair on the way. "Zai jian!" He yelled behind him.
When he'd (rather speedily) left the house, Meiling walked over to the glass coffee table next to the sofas, where a thick fan of bills and gold cards lay. Picking up one of the cards and noting the three small diamonds set rather conspicuously in a corner, as well as the gold-embossed words "Triple Diamond Card" engraved on it, she started cackling evilly…
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Very early next morning…A tall young amber-eyed gentleman with messy brown hair was standing right in the middle of Tomoeda's only marketplace, looking a little glassy-eyed. He was wearing a beautiful navy blue suit with a crisp, expensive look, and he had slung his coat over a shoulder, with a deep purple silk tie peeking out of one pocket.
The back of his long-sleeved cream shirt was hopelessly creased. As the passing viewers' eyes travel down, they would be interested to note that a passport was sticking out of the back pocket of his trousers, and the tip of one of his shoes was scuffed.
Minutes went by, and the gentleman remained where he was, looking exactly the same as before except that now the skin under his right eye was twitching. Perhaps he looked even a little slack-jawed.
After a longer period of time, the coat started sliding off slowly from the man's shoulder, which was visibly slumped, as fingers loosened their hold on the material. Only when it fell, and emitted a muffled crack, did the man finally awake from his daze.
"Oh, damn." He laboriously creaked his waist in half as he slowly bent down to retrieve his coat. Then he felt around in an inner pocket and took out a handphone, shook it vigorously, stared at the small screen on it, then returned it to the pocket.
Li Syaoran scratched his chin.
He took out his wallet and looked in it. Apparently he saw something he didn't quite like- he started bashing himself on the head with his free hand. He returned the wallet to his pocket and looked round.
What a run-down-looking place. There wasn't a building in the vicinity that was over three stories high. The cracked stone pavement was covered in pigeon crap. Even the only bench in the area looked particularly shabby. He walked over to it, and sat down.
Then he started wondering what the hell he was doing in this place.
The lethargic cogs of his mind started to whir. Oh, yeah, that… fiasco of a discussion with the Elders. After grabbing his passport from Meiling, (who had been in charge of it since that short time they had been engaged) he had hastily booked the first flight out of the country, which happened to be to Japan, with a stopover in Taipei.
When he reached Tokyo five hours later, he again chose the first domestic flight available, which was to a tiny rundown airport so far out in the countryside that he actually had to take a bus to get to the nearest town, Tomoeda.
Even through the stoned fog of his mind, he had to admit it was quite a good decision to come to such a remote place, since it meant that he would be untraceable- then he suddenly thought about the network the Elders had. Or maybe, just harder to find.
The sky was becoming progressively lighter. Syaoran checked his watch- it was now around seven. He'd have to settle some immediate problems, which were actually pretty large ones.
He'd gotten his loyal personal assistant to book him the flights with his own credit card (which was hence untraceable unlike Syaoran's), and sealed his lips with the promise of a lot of cash when he got back. He hadn't needed any money the whole journey- up till now. And since all of it was with Meiling, he was pretty much screwed.
Pressing issue number 1: What the hell was he going to be doing in this dump?
With no money, no place to stay, and no one he knew in this rotten little town, he had no idea how long he could survive without sending an SOS call back to Hong Kong. But he had no choice, really.
He'd given the Elders the ultimatum- and if he were to ever gain the freedom he had been fighting for since young, it would be through resisting the Elders. He would lose whatever little he had gained so far if he went back so soon, and he'd be married off to some stranger, to boot. He'd have to show him that they couldn't do without him… while he certainly could live happily without them.
Oh man. Did that mean he'd actually have to work here for his food and lodgings? If there was a company in here he could apply for that even faintly resembled the Li Corporation he headed, he would eat his foot.
Well, yes, the amount of business trips, presentations and negotiations he had to do before was a hell lot of work, but he had the feeling that any job he could possibly take in this backward little place would not just be work- it would be Work. With a grime-covered W.
Hmm. It would be best to lie low anyway; a small common job would do. He just hoped he wouldn't have to get his hands dirty and his personal office would be air-conditioned.
Great! A few people were already coming out to set up their stalls. He'd ask them if there was any place up for rent and who was hiring. He approached a very old lady carrying a huge sack who was wheeling a small foldable table towards him.
Fine wrinkles covered a sweet, delicate face, with a cloud of soft silver hair curling under her chin. She was wearing a faded tea-green yukata with a blue-grey geometric print with the traditional clogs. He couldn't remember when the last time he'd seen a traditional costume was; as a Chinese and bogged down with work commitments whenever he flew into Japan, he had never really bothered with any traditional Japanese festivals.
Syaoran stalked towards the old lady, and stopped a foot away from her, legs apart and arms folded. "Hey. Do you know if there are any job openings here and any apartments up for rent?"
She didn't even look at him. Slowly, she continued wheeling the table to a cool spot under a sprawling tree laden with heavy white blossoms, and locked the table in place with a few bricks around the wheels. The old woman grimaced as she bent over, swinging the heavy, frayed red-and-blue striped sack from her back before gently placing it on the ground, and squatting next to it.
Without seeming to notice the tall man's presence, she took a thick, neatly folded stack of soft white material from of the top of the sack, and spread it out on the low knee-high table.
The light cloth hanging over the table fluttered in the wind, with the thousands of tiny sakura flowers embroidered along the wide lace trim looking like they were about to fly off any moment.
Pale pink ribbon was sewn in a border where the cloth creased at the edge of the table, to cover the line of coins that had been tied along the underside to weight it down so that the light material would not fly away.
Hands slowly moved in and out of the sack without hesitation, as though this was a routine the old lady had done all her life. Pretty trinkets and trifles in wrapped in foamy swathes of material for protection were lifted onto the table, and they continued piling up, while a certain gentleman watching the proceedings was getting exceedingly disgruntled.
Needless to say, he certainly had had no prior experience in getting ignored.
Syaoran was about to shout at the old woman for her rudeness- really, ignoring the sole heir of the Li Clan like that! What cheek! That old peasant must be getting senile-
She had finally emptied her sack, and oddly, her hands were fluttering around in a curious motion, patting the edge of the table as she waddled behind it while still in squatting position. When she finally sat down behind the low table with a groan, she repeated the fluttering-hands motion until she found her sack, and pulled it closer to her.
Syaoran started. He hadn't realised that the woman was blind.
When he looked closer at her, he noticed that while her eyes were not a milky white, they had a strange, unfocussed look in them, and her gaze was wandering in different directions every moment.
He walked nearer to her, crouching next to her table, and examined the items she had placed on it but not yet arranged. His eyes found a striking hairpin that brought a scarlet-eyed shrew to mind. It had a polished stem of a richly coloured wood, with a trail of tiny, intricate blossoms made of red kimono silk and golden beads in their centres, dangling off its blunted top.
Fine carvings of flowers twined all around it to its elegant point. He picked it out of the pile, and asked the old lady in a loud but gentle voice, "Grandmother, how much does this hairpin cost?"
Her head turned towards his voice, and she smiled at him, though her face was looking more to his side. "You'll have to ask my granddaughter when she comes, dear." She paused, with her head cocked to one side, as though listening for something. "Etsumi…" Surprised, Syaoran looked behind him. He hadn't heard her walking towards them.
The young girl was probably about eleven years old and was rather small and thin for her age, and she had adorably large grey eyes framed with exceptionally long and straight eyelashes, and very pale skin, though her cheeks were flushed pink from activity.
Her hair was tied in a neat braid behind her ears and fastened with a green ribbon. She too was wearing a green yukata, but hers was a youthful and pretty apple green with a print of white rabbits.
She walked over to her grandmother, and greeted her by placing her hand gently on her grandmother's, then turned to Syaoran with a sweet smile on her face similar to the old lady's. The young girl gestured towards the hairpin he held with an inquiring expression, and when he nodded, signed a three, five, then two zeros with her right hand.
"3500 yen?" Syaoran confirmed, and she nodded. "Thank you, I'll have it." The girl then took the hairpin from him, and mimed wrapping it, before looking at him again questioningly.
The young man was taken aback. The grandmother's blind, and she's mute, he realised. I wonder how they get on. "Yes, thank you." As he reached for his wallet, he suddenly realised that he had no money, and his face went pale with humiliation- he had never been caught in such a situation before.
He silently watched the young girl's deft fingers wrapping up the ornament in a scarlet patterned sheet of chiyogami, then tucking in a flap to make a neat package. She presented it to him with both hands and a smile, which Syaoran nervously reciprocated.
Stuttering in embarrassment, he explained that he had forgotten to bring out his money with him and wondered if they could please hold the item for him until he found some cash, if they would still be around for a while.
They were very nice about it, but Syaoran felt unspeakably embarrassed by the incident, and swore to get himself a job as quickly as possible- in fact, he would take the very first one that he saw.
He would soon regret it.
Seeking a shop assistant with a pleasant disposition, ready smile and good taste in women's clothing to work in UMEKO STYLE CIRCLE. Reasonable remuneration. Please call TOMOYO DAIDOUJI at xxxxxxxx or walk in to apply!
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Next chapter: Syaoran becomes a STYLE ADVISOR to Tomoyo's customers, to DISASTROUS RESULTS!