The Kami-Sama Conspiracy
Paulo Coelho wrote in The Alchemist,
"When it's meant for you, the world will conspire with you to have it."
Or something like that.

Summary:
Li Syaoran and Kinomoto Sakura had started off at the wrong foot. So far, the only opinion that they share is their mutual dislike for each other. It's bad enough that they were neighbors and classmates, but Kami-Sama has one more trick up His sleeve: Sakura's father decides to marry Syaoran's mother! They grudgingly conspired with each other to break their parents apart. But will they be able to pull it off without trying to kill each other first?

The answer is yes. And that is when one of them starts to believe that one cannot live without the other…

A/N: Hello! This is my very first attempt to upload a fan fic. I took my time in writing and editing this story. Expect the few chapters to be lengthy because I intend to make this character-centric at first. Please support my story! Read and review! I'll appreciate constructive criticisms, but please try to be gentle with them, ayt? Xie xie! Have fun reading! d:)

Warning: Slight OOC, AU

Genre: Romance/Humor/Adventure

Disclaimer: I unfortunately don't own any of the CCS characters. sigh But the plot is mine. copy-paste Sakura's death glare

Prologue: Warm Up!

"Finally," Syaoran said as he heaved a great sigh. He stood up and began stretching his arms and legs after unpacking his last box. He already spent half of his day filing clothes on his closet (Kami-sama knows how much he had), his blade collections, his shoes, his CDs and everything else. He didn't want to leave his things unpacked until next day. What he can do today, he wouldn't leave it until tomorrow. Besides, he wanted to do a little exploration on his new town.

"Mom, I'm done!" he screamed from his room as he massaged the crick at the back of his neck. He thought of checking out a good place to hang out, a park nearby or a temple maybe. He collected all his empty boxes, folded them up into a neat stack of cartons, and decided to take them out of his room and into the garage.

Then he realized that he just did a very, very grave mistake when he saw his four older sisters grinning like monkeys in his doorway, literally blocking his path to freedom. Syaoran never had to guess why: he never should have announced that he was through with his stuff. Judging from the way his sisters are looming at him, thoughts of his exploration flew from his mind faster than he could say—

"No," he flatly refused when Shiefa began calling his name in a singsong voice. He backed away and tried to close his door. But Feimei had already slid her foot in and prevented Syaoran from escaping them through his window.

Fanren immediately pouted and cooed at him. "Aww look, the little wolf's done unpacking. Here, let us help you with that and you help us—"

"No," Syaoran groaned and immediately tried to duck around the four—the cartons clutched tightly in his hand like a shield as means of protection. His current mission changed from getting the boxes to the garage: he must get away from his sisters—fast—if he wants to enjoy the rest of his day! Syaoran sidestepped Shiefa but—

"You are so touchy," said Fuutie, grabbing hold of his left cheek and stopping him from getting away.

So much for trying, he thought grimly.

"We just wanted to spend some quality time with our little brother," Shiefa agreed.

Yeah, right! Syaoran miserably thought, not missing the mischievous gleam in his sisters' eyes. "Le' me wo! Le' me frooh!" Syaoran screamed incoherently, struggling against his sisters however futile his efforts might be. "I don't—want—to—waaah!"

By this time, Shiefa and Feimei had already taken hold of his load and had thrown them back to his room. Syaoran's eyes widened in alarm as the folded cartons nearly toppled down his CD tower, which he painstakingly arranged in alphabetical order (from top to bottom). Fanren and Fuutie held his arms as tight as a vise grip and literally dragged him on his heels to his sisters' rooms. Syaoran sighed resignedly when his sisters finally threw him down on one of the less cluttered beds.

"Ouch!" Syaoran stood up rubbing his shoulder where a nail file, a hairbrush, and a heel of a shoe dug into his back. He wondered why their room is so dark when he knew that it had the most number of windows. Then he looked up and groaned loudly.

"You had better feed me good food this dinner or I'm going to thoroughly enjoy ripping your throats while you're sleeping," Syaoran threatened his sisters as they pushed him in front of tall wall of unpacked boxes. "What in blazes were you doing the whole time you're up here?" His sisters merely looked at him with huge, pleading Bambi eyes.

Syaoran could only stare and wondered for the nth time how he—a mere fifteen-year-old innocent—had ended up unluckily in the company of four unpredictable women.

"Syaoran, that's not a good thing to say to your sisters!" Yelan, their lovely raven-haired mother, scolded him as she sashayed towards his sisters.

Syaoran's jaw dropped at the comment while his four sisters giggled at the background. Then he caught a wink and a conspiring grin from his mother.

Five, he mentally corrected himself, five unpredictable women, as he looked at his mother who was now whispering excitedly with his sisters.

Most people would probably think that as the youngest and only male child in the Li family, Syaoran's mother and four sisters would spoil him rotten. But how wrong they were! Living with them made Syaoran feel old; so old that the he sometimes felt like an old nagging dad to his mom and sisters. Not that he minded being the one in charge. He prided his mom's business acumen, but it rather scared him to death if he'd let his mom run the house, much less his sisters. So crucify him if he's feeling that responsible. He rather took to heart what his late father had casually told him before he died in a bloody car accident on his way to work.

Take care of them.

He did and he was only 9 years old then.

"Syaoran?" called his mother and snapped him out of his reverie.

"Yes?"

"Here," said Yelan. Syaoran's arm shot up and caught a set of keys before it hit a very delicate vase. "Your sisters and I are going out for a short while. We're taking the car so if you want to cruise around later, take the scooter instead."

"You're leaving me? Where are you going?"

"To our newly opened boutique, where else?"

"You're going to let my sisters make me unpack their boxes?" Syaoran blanched.

No. Friggin'. Way. For Kami-sama's sake, aren't they even afraid that I might hide their undies?

Yelan looked at him as if he just announced that he had sprouted two heads. "Syaoran, my dear, don't you think that it's wiser if you unpack the boxes yourself since you did the packing, too? You at least have an idea where you put everything, right?"

And the door of doom closed, leaving him staring at all the boxes he had packed back in Hong Kong just days ago.

Open mouth; shove foot.

He sighed then began to roll up his sleeves.

Sakura was in mid-yawn when three pillows hit her consecutively in the face. "Hey!" she protested as she tried to shield herself from the fourth pillow.

"Get up now, lazy kaijuu!" Touya bellowed not far from Sakura. He flung another pillow from the couch at his sleepy sister.

The pillow hit Sakura squarely at the forehead. Sakura got up at once, which surprised Touya. But he should have trusted his instincts immediately and ducked for cover when Sakura did what he precisely ordered: his younger sister deftly grabbed a fallen pillow and hurled it at him. He dodged it, of course, but not the heel that Sakura had accurately stomped and drilled on his already sore toe.

"Ow, ow!"

"That's for calling me kaijuu!" Sakura informed him, satisfied that his toe now hurts.

"I just came from soccer practice!" Touya complained as he hopped his way to the nearest couch. He pulled his sock off and started to massage his sore foot.

Sakura peaked a look at his brother's foot when Touya shut his eyes in pain for a moment.

Sakura thought that she might have stomped too hard this time. "What do you want?" she asked, still irritated that Touya had woken her up.

She had just spent a good portion of her afternoon curled up at the couch because she had dysmenorrhea. And Sakura is not a force to reckon with whenever she has monthly periods. Touya and her father learned this valuable lesson the hard way.

"I was going to ask you what you wanted for dinner. Grocery's nearly done for and I was going out. Now my poor foot can hardly move," Touya muttered between grimaces.

Sakura's heart almost went to Touya. But she's not going to let Touya know that that softened her a little. "Don't move from there," she ordered him.

"As if," Touya clipped as Sakura marched to the kitchen and got out the First Aid Kit from one of the cabinets. Sakura heard Touya launching into an elaborate dialogue about having a hard soccer practice on a Sunday, then getting home to a sleeping sister and thought that his kaijuu sister looked so—gasp!—cute that he wanted to buy her dinner even if he was pooped already.

Feeling just a little guilty, Sakura muttered a soft, "Okay, okay, sorry." Touya grinned and Sakura didn't like the look of it. "But if you didn't wake me up like that, I wouldn't have gotten mad," Sakura couldn't help pointing it out just to quash his brother's grinning face.

"Er, Sakura?" Touya called in a singsong voice.

Sakura looked up and saw that Touya had a queer expression on his face. "Nani?"

"I've been waking you up like that since ages ago. What makes you think I'd try another way?"

Sakura didn't break eye contact as she pinched Touya's biggest, reddest and sorest toe.

"Yeowch!" Touya exclaimed as he tried to pull away his foot. But Sakura wasn't finished yet.

"Big ape!" Sakura muttered under her breath. Onii-chan got the last word again, she thought as she finished wrapping bandage, none too gentle.

"You're excessively being too grouchy today," Touya grimaced as he rubbed his bandaged foot. "You have that monthly thingy, ne?" Touya didn't ask; he stated. Sakura stood up and upended every thrown pillow on the floor looking for her pink tote bag. "I'm telling you, put a big, red banner at the wall every time you have it," Touya suggested sagely. "That would be a tremendous reminder to put us on our guards!"

Sakura gave him a chilling glare that should have made anyone stop cold.

"At least I'd know and give people a fair reason why I'm always injured that time of month!" Touya insisted after a while, now massaging his other foot.

"Shut. Up."

Touya, who was already immune to her death glares, even had the gall to break into a grin.

Sometimes, Sakura wondered how she was able to put up with her rowdy brother.

Now where is the darn bag! She thought of getting her cat to sniff out her bag. Kami-sama knows how sensitive her cat's nose was. It wasn't even a dog, but it could smell a dead lizard or a rat in some three-digit meter radius. Tried and tested. And you don't want a repeat scene when her cat finds the scent that irritates it most.

She heard Touya moan in pain behind her. Sakura looked at him and saw him clumsily bump his bandaged foot at the foot of the center table. Then Sakura took a second look at her brother's foot.

Oh.

Now she remembers.

"Kero…" she called her cat sweetly.

Sakura saw Touya stilling in his place, his face unreadable.

"Kero? Oh, Kero… here sweet kitty-kitty…" Sakura continued.

"Don't you dare…" Touya threatened in a flat voice.

Sakura feigned innocence. "Dare what?"

"You're calling that horrible cat of yours!"

Sakura gave Touya a smile coated with honey. In heavy syrup. "Oh, but Touya, I can't find my bag. You know how useful Kero is during these times."

"Hmpf." Touya didn't like the double entendre in Sakura's last sentence.

Sakura stifled her giggle. Her cat and her brother got along well like oil and water. Whenever Kero is around, Touya cannot attack Sakura—verbally and physically—because Kero would jump at him and start gnawing his leg. And to think that it was Touya who gave her the cat on her birthday.

Sakura looked pointedly at her brother's foot. "Tsktsk, be forewarned, onii-chan. I know Kero doesn't like the smell of dead rat—" Touya shot her a warning look. "Er, sweaty foot," Sakura hastily corrected. "You don't—"

"I know, I know."

Sakura hid an evil grin. Time: Eighteen hundred forty-five. Score: One to Touya, one to Sakura. Sakura called out Kero again when she started to become frustrated at the loss of her tote bag. But the cat seemed to have vanished again. Typical Kero. Where had he gone to this time?

Then Sakura finally spotted her bag beneath her brother's sweaty sock and a pillow. Eww. Sakura shouldered her bag, put the pillow back on an empty couch and flung her dirty brother's sock back at Touya's face before she marched to the front door.

"Not a bad aim, kaijuu. But care to tell me where you're going?" Touya sputtered after removing the sock from his nose.

Sakura stopped herself from throwing at Touya the shoes she's putting on. "Well you obviously can't walk and I'm hungry."

Touya let out a charming grin at his younger sister. "Get me sushi!" Touya called at Sakura's retreating back.

"Who said I'm going to buy you food? Go eat your sock!" Sakura called without looking back and disappeared into the night. Touya's stomach chose precisely that moment to growl.

Time: Eighteen hundred forty-nine. Score: One to Touya, two to Sakura. Sakura wins.

The sun was already setting when Syaoran finished unpacking the more important items of his sisters. Even though he was used to rigorous hours of training wushu, he felt soreness creeping from his back to his shoulders and down to his fingertips. He is not used to unpacking and unloading stuff for ten hours.

Then his stomach growled in protest. He was not going to do all the unpacking, Syaoran vowed. Then sighed. As if he didn't say almost the same line back in Hong Kong while they were still packing. A day before their flight, he found his four sisters asleep on top of their half-packed mess and their flight were only hours away in the morning. Why can't he just say "no" to them?

Syaoran decided that if he intends to stay up awake to finish unpacking, he might as well energize himself first. He had to find food—fast—before he withers. Unfortunately though, while he can do almost every chore in the house, the only thing he couldn't touch is the kitchen. He was so bad at cooking that even rats wouldn't touch it. He knew that there is nil possibility of having food at the kitchen at the moment. He so wished that his sisters (who are always in charge of the kitchen) would remember the essential stuff. Like milk or cereal. He'd even be grateful for potato chips.

But then again, they'd be coming out from a mall. They would still be spellbound until the charm of their new clothes wears off tomorrow morning. Syaoran sighed. It seemed like he had no choice but to go around the yet unfamiliar town to scour for food. Syaoran almost wanted to pity himself at this moment. Tired, hungry, and alone. Sob.

Syaoran stood up and tiptoed around the room, avoiding anything that could possibly—

SPLAT!

He saw the ceiling when he opened his eyes. What did I ever do to deserve this luck? He felt under his back thinking he broke something. He fingered something wet and Syaoran horribly thought that he might have stepped on one of his sisters' perfumes. They willabsolutely kill me!

Syaoran brought a finger to his face and sniffed it. "What the—"

Syaoran sat up straight and grabbed the plastic bottle on the floor. "What the freak!" he exclaimed as he read something on the bottle. A bottle containing a rat's scent? What is this doing in my sisters' room? He prepared to toss it to the garbage can when he slipped a little and poured himself a good amount of the liquid—on the shirt, pants, and shoes.

Shit. Now I smell like a rat!

He gloomily tossed the bottle at the garbage can and began to pull off his shirt. He headed back to his room hoping that he didn't need another shower before he could eat. His feet, he bets, must be starting to turn blue!

He smelled himself—sniffed whatever part of his body his nose could reach. He was not going out in town for the first time smelling like a dead rat. He quickly grabbed a shirt and newly pressed denim from his closet. He was about to pull out a change for his shoes when his stomach growled again.

My stomach can't wait. Syaoran sniffed the shoes he's wearing and decided that it didn't smell as bad as his clothes so he left it at that. Satisfied with his nosy inspection, he took the house keys from his table and went to the garage to ride the scooter. Then he discovered to his utter delight that his considerate mother had obviously taken the family car because the scooter had run out of gas. Great. Just great.

Syaoran wanted to scream. But his stomach beat him to it and released another deadly growl.

A/N: Well... there goes the Prologue.Tell me what you think, alright? Thank you for reading!

Up Next! He thought that nothing worse could happen that day as he walked around an unfamiliar town to find food. She thought that nothing could piss her off more than having to be woken up badly on one of her worst days. Well… they both thought wrong.