Out of Order
When Syaoran Li kicked the vending machine one hot summer's night, he didn't get his change back. Instead, he got Kinomoto Sakura. SS, Ongoing, 1 Chp
1 Stark Raving Drunk
Aah, good ol' Tokyo—the city that never slept. The ever-famous hotspot of Japan was forever bustling with people: the young, the old, and most definitely the working. If you ever wanted a peaceful night, you wouldn't get it unless you bought a sturdy set of earmuffs and soundproofed your house, because the traffic could be heard from miles away.
Tokyo was a paradise, with its tall buildings and dazzling lights.
…And Li Syaoran hated it.
He hated the traffic, he hated the smoke, he hated the annoyingly bright lights- he hated the basic fundamentals of how cities worked. Yet, here he was, slaving away in a cramped little apartment, which was tucked conveniently away in the very heart of the thing he hated.
Syaoran sighed, and unfastened yet another button on his crisp, tailored shirt. The heat was smothering. He had already adjusted the fan to operate at full blast, but all the contraption seemed to be accomplishing was blowing even more hot air into his face. Emitting a strange sound akin to frustration, the young man tried to ignore the uncomfortable temperature and continued stabbing at his laptop.
Papers were scattered all around him, and some were already making their descent to the floor. However, he did not pay heed to such matters. All that one could hear for a long while was the sharp, steady sound of typing. Syaoran's dark brown eyes were narrowed with concentration, focused solely on the screen.
Thirty, perhaps forty minutes later, a soft, wistful breeze fluttered in through the window, a rare glimpse of fresh air that managed to survive the toxic fumes of the highway. Momentarily stopping in his work, Syaoran breathed in deeply, calming himself.
He had this strange urge for coffee, though it was already deep into the night. Glancing out of the window and noting that it was half-past midnight, he pushed himself off his chair and stretched slowly, yawning.
"I'm beat," He said, as if to himself. He missed his life in Hong Kong more than ever—the tranquil, disciplined life he had with his mother and sisters, though they really annoyed him at times. He missed Meiling as well. She had moved to Tokyo in search of work too, and was now a well-paid accountant in another company. Sadly, with their busy schedules, they hadn't had much time to get together…
"I never thought working life would be this hard," He spoke to the air once more, rummaging around his desk for his keys. "I've practically become a hermit, cooped up in this hole of an apartment everyday trying to complete my work." His voice trailed off into a grumble, and he yanked his door open, not even bothering to shut off his laptop.
The only thought that echoed in his mind was: Coffee.
He wanted it.
No, needed it.
It was like…brown gold.
Practically spurred on by the thought, Syaoran let his steps grow hurried, taking huge steps. He caught the lift just as it was closing and rushed in, pressing the Ground Floor button with more force than was necessary. Then, he leaned back against the wall, panting.
Suddenly, a chuckle sounded from across the contained area, and he lifted his eyes quizzically. …He hadn't been –that- obvious, had he? Great, now the whole world would know that Syaoran Li was addicted to coffee…
"Hello, Li-kun," piped a gentle-sounding voice. "Nice to see you've been surviving."
He blinked, and then recognized her. His tense expression relaxed almost immediately.
"Daidouji." He replied, his tone slightly friendlier. "I'm holding up well, I suppose. Going out tonight?" He continued politely, smiling slightly at her extravagant clothes.
The woman giggled. "Yes, as always. I've known you for almost three months, and you're still such a gentleman. I'm surprised you don't have girls hanging all over you yet." Syaoran looked a tad uncomfortable, but shrugged in response.
"I'm too busy working."
Tomoyo smiled. "I'm busy working too, but I still have time for leisure."
The lift stopped with a slight 'bing', and their conversation ended. Tomoyo smiled at Syaoran once more and stepped out of the lift, her high heeled shoes making a pleasant sound against the cool, hard marble.
"Well…hope you enjoy yourself," Syaoran said awkwardly.
She winked. "Of course I will." Turning around, she started down the hallway—but stopped in midtrack.
"…And Li-kun? Don't work yourself too hard, okay? A kawaii guy like you wouldn't look nice with eyebags. And besides, you'll never know when you one true love would just spiral herself into your arms, ne?"
Syaoran snorted. Tomoyo just grinned mysteriously, and continued out of the two main doors. The young man watched her disappearing back with mild interest. Tomoyo was a good neighbor (and friend) to him—and was a rather pretty lady in fact, with her black, glossy hair and shining amethyst eyes…
His thoughts screeched to a stop, and he shook his head harshly.
…But he was NOT interested in her! She was just a friend, nothing more. Besides, she seemed to be taking an interest in some guy …Eriol Hiirwhatamajig, or something of the sort. In his personal opinion, he thought the guy was –annoying-, but he couldn't stop Tomoyo. Not when she was in predator mode.
One true love, spiraling into my arms? He thought almost cynically, raising an eyebrow.
Not me, definitely not for me.
Making a hundred and eighty degree turn, he started down the other side of the hall to the glorious public drink dispenser, turning his thoughts to something more constructive. Like coffee.
Mmm.
Syaoran reached into his pockets and scooped out about a handful of loose change, counting out a dollar before he even reached the machine. Then, slipping the coins into the slot, he watched as the red, bright numbers gradually change from 10c to 1. The buttons lit up.
C-O-F-F-E-E, one said. He could smelt the aroma already. Reaching out greedily, Syaoran pressed the button. Now—in a few seconds, the machine would dispense the cup and from the tube would emerge hot, creamy coffee…
But nothing happened. Syaoran waited some more, but when –still- nothing happened, he got a tad bit suspicious. Then:
BEEP, the machine called.
Out-of-order.
Out of Order.
Out of Order.
Something inside the contraption seemed to gurgle, and the box emitted a loud whirr before all the lights died off. Syaoran Li, the self-proclaimed worshipper of coffee, practically died right then.
OUT OF ORDER? Who—what—WHY!
Out of order, the machine had said. The coffee had been denied him. Syaoran cursed softly. He pressed the button again and again, but there was no response. The machine was well and thoroughly konked.
A thought flitted across his mind. My change!
Changing his course of action, Syaoran twisted the change knob. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Nothing came.
"…!"
Restraining the urge to curse once more, all the poor guy could do was let out a frustrated growl. Irritation boiled up, coursing through his veins madly. All the stress had been locked up for quite awhile, and all the tension was just looking for a suitable outlet to unleash itself upon. It was all too easy to get him riled nowadays.
True to his temper, Syaoran kicked the vending machine harshly and without warning.
Thunk
He breathed in harshly, directing a solid death glare at the cause of his anger venomously.
He was just about to kick it again when a loud thud suddenly sounded from not too far away, causing him to stop abruptly. His eyes flicked sideways.
A moan reached his ears, and his eyebrows shot up. Inching around a corner, he looked around. It sounded like someone was seriously hurt…
"…H-hey, mista…"
Syaoran turned around swiftly, so fast he almost heard his bones crack.
There, on the floor—was a girl. She seemed to be around his age group, adding or subtracting a few years. Silky auburn hair framed her face, reaching past her chin. Strands had been matted to her forehead by sweat, probably caused by the heat, and she was on the floor, knees down, and heaving. Syaoran rushed over to her, putting a hand gently on her back.
"Are you alright?" He asked quietly. He wasn't used to talking to strangers, but this girl seemed to be in dire need of help. Her shoulders shook slightly at the contact, and the girl looked up, staring straight at Syaoran.
He was confronted a pair of impossibly emerald eyes, shocking in their intensity, peering right into his very soul. Blinking in shock, Syaoran did a double take and choked on his own breath. Blood rushed up to his cheeks, and feeling appalled at his own behavior, he forced himself to calm down.
"Erm…M-miss…" He stuttered out, mentally kicking himself. As he observed her face, her eyes seemed to fade from emerald to a dull, foresty green. The girl moved jerkily to the side, her movements sluggish. Clutched tightly in her right hand was a large beer bottle.
It was emptied, and she was obviously drunk. All urgency fading away, Syaoran let his eyes roll up into the air. Another drunkard, he thought tiredly, looking down at her in mild pity. So much for dire straits…
"Mista…wassyer name?" She slurred, eyelids closing, then opening again.
"…You may call me Li. You're drunk, Miss." Syaoran said curtly, but gently. "Decidedly drunk."
She looked up at him again, looking almost pitiful. Something twisted in his stomach, and Syaoran directed his gaze away. She was just a –drunk-, and she was wasted! What in the world was he supposed to feel for her? Compassion!
The girl shifted, getting up. Her steps were wobbly, and she seemed to be having difficulty. Syaoran watched dispassionately.
Her frame was delicate and frail, and she was wearing a creamy, peach-colored dress, which accented the color of her skin perfectly. In fact, she looked like she had gone for a dinner party—not like a person who had gone out and deliberately drowned herself in beer…
"I'm not drunk, jus' dizzee! I have a vhery high tohlerance fah alchohool, ifh you mush know…" Her voice was soft and lilting, gentle, even in her state of drunkenness. Syaoran found himself offering her an arm. It was being polite, and a respectable person like him couldn't leave someone like her out alone, stranger or not.
"It's okay. Where do you live? I can help you back, or call a cab…" He offered, smiling faintly. She clutched onto his arm like it was a lifeline, and her fingernails pressed sharply into his flesh. Syaoran winced, but did not pull his hand away.
"So warm…" She suddenly murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. Stiffening, Syaoran almost jolted from the touch. With their close proximity, he could smell the perfume she wore—it smelt faintly of strawberry, even though the scent was heavily outweighed by the stench of alcohol.
She's drunk, he thought forcefully once more, just to remind himself.
"Miss…?" He inquired again, trying to coax an answer out of her.
She blinked dazedly, eyes half open. The beer bottle was swinging precariously from side to side due to her unsteady grip, and he pried the item away from her, setting it to one side carefully. The young woman seemed to take a few seconds to collect her thoughts, then answered.
"Neeehh? K…er. Kinomoto Sak…Saku…"
However, in mid-sentence, unconsciousness seemed to claim her. Growing limp, she collapsed into Syaoran's outstretched arms, well and truly out cold. Syaoran, shocked out of his wits, teetered wildly for several seconds under the extra weight, but managed to maintain his balance well enough. Then, looking down at the motionless girl in his hands, he sighed.
She did say her name was Saku, right?
Or was it Saki?
"…I guess…Oh, well, …oh man." He said, berating himself. "Syaoran, you stupid stupid stupid…"
There was only one option left: Bring Miss Kinomoto, or whoever she was, up to his apartment and hope she woke up soon…
Giving up all hope of ever getting his coffee fix, Syaoran Li surrendered to his fate and started carrying Kinomoto 'Saku' to the lift as carefully as he could.
This drunk woman problem, he could deal with when she woke. For now, he had to try and finish his work before it hit three in the morning.
To be continued.
(Please read and review! Hope it's not too crappy.)