Now I know that the movie, My Sassy Girl, is korean and the Cardcaptors are japanese, but bear with me. I've been wanting to write a Cardcaptor fic, but I haven't figured out the plot. After seeing My Sassy Girl, I had my story. Keep in mind that there will be references to korean culture. You may learn something.

Disclaimer: I don't own My Sassy Girl or Cardcaptors.

"He hasn't changed at all."

"No, I'm a real man now."

"Syaoran, you really think clerical work in the army makes you a man?"

"Shut up, you irritate me." Syaoran drank soju. "Give me a break, man. My job was tougher than you could imagine. Hey! I worked at the DMZ." He added when his friends laughed.

"Ah, who are you kidding?" One of his friends asked. Syaoran was about to retaliate when another one of his friends stopped the quarrels. "Hold it. Anyway, welcome back home."

Syaoran wasn't listening. He saw a girl walk past in a window from the restaurant they were all sitting in. Drunk, he thought to himself. She's just my type. When I see my type, I can't help it. I need to hit on her. He drained his soju glass and slammed it down in the ground. He was about to walk out when his phone rang. "Ai, who's interrupting me?" He answered his phone rudely.

"Hello? Who is this?!"

"Your mother, you bastard."

"Oh, mom." Syaoran's mom always makes him feel small no matter where, how he's feeling, what, or when.

"Why aren't you at your aunt's house?"

"Um, I'm leaving soon." He sat back down at his table. The noise from his friends made it difficult for Syaoran to hear what his mother was saying now. "Shut up! It's my mom!"

"Make sure you pay her a visit. It's been over a year since you last saw her."

Syaoran was dumbfounded. "That long?"

"You know how she feels after losing her son last year. She says you look like him."

Now Syaoran's friends were gesturing him to talk somewhere else. He sighed and walked in a different direction.

"She'll be so glad to see you. Hey, you still there?" Syaoran's mom said after he moved form the table.

Syaoran didn't care. "We don't look alike," he complained. "Plus, I hate it when she rubs my face and kisses me. Even uncle does, too."

"Hey! She'll introduce you to a girl."

"But the girls she introduces me to aren't my type at all. Tell her no thanks." Syaoran turned off his phone.

Later, at the subway station, Syaoran was daydreaming. I want to meet a girl like in those romantic mangas. He said.

A bell rang, indicating that the train was arriving. Syaoran saw a girl teetering precariously on the ledge, taking no notice of the bright light from the train. Syaoran pulled her back just in time. He stared at her. The girl also stared groggily back at him. Syaoran became uncomfortable and moved away.

On the train, Syaoran was on one side of the train while the girl was on the opposite side. The girl hit her head against the pole she was resting against. Little did she know that Syaoran was checking her out. She's my type, he contemplated. But I don't like her. Why? Drunk girls disgust me.

While the train was moving, the girl kept bumping against the wall, door, and her pole. Syaoran snickered. The man next to him looked at him. "Well, look at her." Syaoran started to explain; but the man had moved to a different seat.

Meanwhile, the girl had made a scene. With crossed eyes, she yelled at the teenager to get up for the old man that was standing next to her. "Hey, get up! Offer your seat to the elderly!" she slurred. The teenager looked up but did not move. The girl hit his head and his gum fell out. The teenager looked at her again. The girl glared at him. "Move it!" she said. Having no choice, the teenager moved out of the seat.

The girl called out to him. "By the way, don't wear pink." When the deed was done, she reverted back to her quiet, but still drunken state. It wasn't long that the girl was now retching. Syaoran, still watching her, was feeling nauseous also. He started to feel bad for the old man still sitting below her. When she retched, she swallowed it back down. The cycle went on for a short period of time until she finally threw up on the old man's toupee.

The distressed old man now in angry tears, took off his wig to inspect the damage. The girl threw up again on the bald head. The girl turned around, saw Syaoran, and said a word that would change his life forever. "Honey…" Then she fainted.

The people in the subway looked at him. "But I'm not…" Syaoran stammered.

"You!" the old man shouted at him.

"But I'm not!" Syaoran protested. The old man didn't believe him. "You take care of this!"

"But…but…"

"Think I'm stupid? Get over here!"

Syaoran obeyed. When he came over to the old man, he couldn't help but laugh. The old man saw him.

"Are you laughing? Why aren't looking after her? Hurry and do something!" The old man demanded.

Syaoran sighed and took off his sweater and did his best to wipe off the vomit still dripping off the old man. He mopped the noodles off the toupee but put it back wrong. The old man, now in an angry frenzy, complained even more. Syaoran now was wiping the old man's sleeves. "I'm sorry. Let me pay for the cleaning expenses." he said.

The old man smacked Syaoran's head. "Forget it. Just take care of her."

When the train left, the girl was on Syaoran's back. After a couple of steps, he left her on a bench. And, just like that, he left her there. He left her bag with her. As he walked away, voices filled his head. Take care of her! Honey… Feeling guilty, he moved back to the girl's bench, hoisted her on his back once again, and disembarked to find a motel.

Soju is hard korean liquor. Think of it as sake. The DMZ is the DeMilitarized Zone. It's the boundary that separates North Korea and South Korea. The story takes place in South Korea. Review, please!