Thirty Kisses: Meilin Li and Touya Kinomoto
Written by: Ciuline Ihmenjo
Card Captor Sakura does not belong to me. The characters in Card Captor Sakura do not belong to me. CLAMP owns CCS. Besides, even if you do try and sue me, I have no money.
From Start…
I thought that I'd try my hand at the unique fiction style at 30kisses. This is my tribute to those non-cannon couples who often are glossed over in favor of the 'major' couples within anime or books.
Between this… my writer's block for Fallen Neo… and especially school, I'm beginning to think I have too much on my plate.
o()o The Color that She Is o()o
30 Kisses Theme: Red
She is the color red. It flows through her veins, not as the color of her blood, but as the color of her soul.
Sans the fact that it is the color of her eyes as well as the fact that it saturates every section of her wardrobe, it suits her well. Red is her favorite color, and she wears it all too well. Her entire being screams any imaginable shade of the vibrant color. It is the frustration over the boyfriends who abandoned her. It is the anger at her own inadequacy in the eyes of the clan that she was born into. It is the aura of every little nuance about her. She bleeds the color in not only a literal sense but also a figurative one.
She is not the color green. The color green is of her opposite. At the same time, when her red and his green collide, or are even juxtaposed in the slightest, they seem to make each other that much more. Like the colors themselves, they compliment each other beautifully. It is one of the few times I appreciate having the gaki around.
Green is the color of the one whom she feels abandoned her. Green is the color that closed her heart.
She claimed to hate her association with the color red because of Sakura and the close approximation to the color most associated with my sister. But, over time, she had begun to have an odd sort of affection for Sakura. Sakura is the color pink, at least, she is mostly pink. Sakura is a color all of her own. Of course, their association was little more than a rivalry that eventually became a friendship. Inklings of the gaki's original situation came to mind.
Of course, at the moment, I'm not focusing on those feelings and emotions, nor am I worrying about the color of her interior, but rather at the lovely exterior that was sitting before me. She is seated across the table, her hands folded politely on the worn surface.
"Kinomoto," she asks, irritation creeping into her voice, "did you hear me?"
It is enough to snap me out of my (somewhat) color-induced stupor. "What?"
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. They are the most brilliant red. "Have you even heard a single word of what I just said?"
"Not really?" I reply truthfully.
"We're meeting to try and plan some of your own sister's wedding and you aren't listing to anything about the actual plans."
"I'm concentrating on other things," I murmur.
"Things such as your snow bunny?" She takes a sip of her drink. The loud slurping noise startles her, and she begins clinking ice together with her straw.
"Things such as, but not including Yukito," I responded, wondering why my words jumbled out like that. Yukito was no longer a factor in anything. He was off in England. We had agreed it was time to try it apart. Of course, at that time, neither he nor I had any idea who we'd find to fill ourselves once more; though, I suspected England held something that would aid him in his endeavors, just as he had conveyed the thoughts – from meddling Kaho – that Japan held something that would eventually aid me.
"That doesn't really make sense." She frowns, playing with her drink again before looking at me. "Why didn't we just get Tomoyo to do this?" she asks with a frustrated sigh. "She loves this sort of stuff. She did it for her wedding. It was all lavender themed. Of course, by the end of the affair, I think Eriol was ready to kill her." She pauses thoughtfully as a stupid grin plasters itself across my face. "What's that about?"
"Something about Hirigizawa and violence," I mutter.
"Honestly, I don't understand you nor Syaoran." She shakes her head. "Still, even with all of the little nuances, Tomoyo did an amazing job with it."
"Yes, but Sakura feels like she would be a burden to Tomoyo." Personally, I scoff at the idea of my sister taking on this entire project with only Syaoran to keep her sane. He hadn't been performing that task too well. Even then, I don't think the wedding preparations were moving along too smoothly. I know, just as well as Meilin does, that Sakura has too much stubborn pride to actually allow Tomoyo to do any of the planning.
"Well, I feel like she's being a burden to us."
"Touché," I said with a smile.
"Can't we just secretly go to Tomoyo and ask her to help us?" She flops back against the booth and covers her hands on her face, bringing them up to brush a few stray hairs from her eyes. I can hear a few tinny pops as she stretches her arms out wide.
"If it gets back to Sakura," I begin as she rights herself in the seat, "it would mean hell for the two of us."
"I'd rather face the wrath of Sakura than have to worry about what color to use as a theme the invitations or what would make the most affordable location while still remaining agreeable for all the guests."
"Well, you did agree to help because your poor gaki is about to faint from exhaustion."
"He is not a gaki!" she protests loudly. A few of the customers turn in our direction and she sinks down – and out of sight – into her chair.
I chuckle. She shoots a piercing glare in my direction. That is followed by a flurry of ice cubes. I manage to fend off most of her attack with my arm. "Personally, I don't think any of these silly preparations should really matter," I respond, brushing water from my face and patting my sleeve dry with a fistful of napkins.
"Yes, but you're not a female," she responds with a smug grin. "There are just certain things that must be done in order to seal the fact you will spend eternity with this one person."
"Then, at least Sakura should give this to someone who knows her better."
"Ah," she waggles a finger in the space between us, "but who knows her better than her own brother?"
"She hid so much from me when she was doing her magic adventure, and she's tried to keep me so far away from all of that side of her life. I'm not quite certain how well I know her."
"That's beside the point," she says. "If she trusts you with decisions for her wedding, I'm sure you know her just fine." A faint smile dances over her features. "When I have my wedding, it's just going to be us walking down the isle, you kiss the bride – me of course, and then we all go to a reception and eat cake."
All weddings should be that simple, I muse. The wording of her statement sparks the little mischief demon whispering in my ear. You kiss the bride… The wheels, which I wouldn't be able to stop from grinding if I tried, begin to turn and the little demon begins to chant his mantra faster and faster.
"So, what you're saying is that I would kiss you?" I tease her. She flushes bright red, which isn't exactly the sort of response I expected from her.
"N-n-no!" she stammers, suddenly very interested in the ice lining the bottom of her cup.
"We could practice," I continue and she nearly drops her cup. The slip is easily noticed. "You know how the old saying goes… practice makes perfect."
"That would be nice," she whispers as I take a sip of my coffee.
The comment catches me completely off guard. I nearly spray a mouthful of liquid across the table. Instead, I audibly choke on a mouthful of lukewarm coffee. Sputtering helplessly, I watch as her nervous and shy demeanor dissolves in a fit of laughter.
"Excuse me?" I manage to ask after regaining my composure. Locating my misplaced dignity does not come so easily.
"You just looked silly," she replies.
"I nearly just choked to death," I mutter. "And you're dodging the question."
"What question?" she asks innocently and motions the waiter over to refill her glass.
"Li," I scrunched my face up, setting her into another fit of giggles – the opposite effect of what I was trying to achieve, "you're treading dangerous waters."
"I like it better when you call me Meilin."
"Fine, then…" I place my mug on the table with more than the necessary force. A tremor passes up my arm and she snorts with repressed laughter. I just glare. "Meilin," I say testily, "you are treading dangerous waters."
"You really do look silly," she says and leans across the table, a napkin in one hand. "Though, coffee just doesn't suit your face."
She dabs at my face and out of some strange compulsion, I find her wrist in my hand. Her expression begins as startled before shifting to meek surprise. In that moment, I understand her timidity. I pull her towards me. Willingly, she follows.
We then realize the awkwardness of our situation. She stares down at the table beneath. I stare at her legs, straining to keep her body upright. I nearly collapse into a fit of laugher. She, instead, smiles, cupping my cheek in her free hand and leaning forward to touch her lips to mine. I immediately drop her wrist. My eyes bug out for a moment and then I'm lost in her unique color. Red blurs my vision.
She pulls away after an eternity of only a brief few seconds. Her face is flushed and her breath comes in a few short gasps before she pushes her body back into her seat. I'm speechless and she giggles again. She settles back into the seat and becomes all business as if nothing had happened at all.
"Um," I manage, trying to find my words.
"We were talking about the invitations…" she says, staring down at the catalogue on the table.
"What do we consider that?" I interrupt. "You can't just dismiss that as nothing."
She looks up. "Consider that a practice run," she replies with a mischievous grin. "We can work on the real thing at our own leisure.
To Finish…
Not my best work, surely, but I'll get around to that once I actually write more and more for this couple. I really do pity the fact that no one seems to support the non-canonical couples. It's sad, really.
See you next update: Ciuline Ihmenjo