"The biggest fear is not that we are inadequate. The biggest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure."
-Marriane Williamson
The afternoon drew into a quiet close as the sun slowly vanished behind one of the many black, rigid sky scrapers that spread and covered most of Hong Kong. No one seemed to notice, as the day had ended like it begun, grim and busy. A schoolboy exited a store, clutching his mother's hand. He peeked up at her, and observed the gray hat she was wearing was the same one she had on all year. He wondered why she hesitated when she picked up a brand new hat at the store, checked the price, and quickly placed it back.
"Who is that, Mama?"
"What?" the woman followed the direction of her son's finger and lifted her head towards the dark, gigantic building adjacent to her. It looked like any other building, rows and rows of black windows...except..at the very top, a window had been opened and upon closer watch, there was a man standing right on the frame.
"Is he gonna jump?" the boy asked, "he looks like he's gonna jump!"
"It must be the angle," the mother said quickly. "Maybe he needs some fresh air. Let's go. We need to get home by six so I can cook." The truth was, sometimes they jump, and sometimes they didn't. Who knew?
Sixty two stories up, a young man frowned as he stuck a cigarette between his lips. He wasn't really watching the atmosphere below, but rather leaning his head towards the sky. What the hell did he do to deserve this?
A year ago, the media named him one of the most successful businessmen of Hong Kong. He had made the Forbes list of most powerful men in the world, was featured in Time Magazine and even agreed to do a biography.
36 hours ago, he found out he lost a billion dollars worth of share; his whole company's worth. How did this happen? What went wrong?
The truth was, he should have known. As the saying goes, what goes up must come down. Syaoran knew there was a possibility. There was a chance that if no matter how much money was bestowed upon him by his father, no matter how much he had earned himself; there was still a chance he could lose it all. He had studied it in school, read about it in textbooks, and keenly remembered the first day of Business class, Professor McGills telling him that the faster you rise, you harder you'll fall.
But still…it never seemed like something like this could happen to him.
A sharp knock on the door startled him and he quickly retrieved a few steps towards his desk.
"Come in Eriol," he muttered.
A peculiar looking guy, dressed down in a casual Lacoste sweater and beige khakis walked into the room with uncanny grace and dignity. He had an apple in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.
"Whoa Syaoran," Eriol said, eyeing the window. "Thinkng of suicide already?"
"I thought about it." Syaoran crushed his cigarette in a crystal ashtray on his desk. He studied it for a moment, before his gaze wandered towards a snow globe next to it. It was a beautiful piece, the globe, with a delicate miniature model of the world inside. He had gotten it for his birthday a few months ago, from his cousin Meiling, with a note that said, "Because you own the world."
How ironic.
"I have to lay off five thousand workers tomorrow," Syaoran said, dryly.
"You will do what you have to," Eriol responded, eyeing his friend's desk. It was flooded with old files, databases, stock records, and spreadsheets. Syaoran had been searching obsessively for his "mistake," rampaging and overanalyzing every business decision he made in past five years.
"Common Syaoran...shit happens...you made an investment, it didn't work out. So what? Pick up and move on..."
"So WHAT?" Syaoran said, his voice getting louder and shakier. "Do you KNOW what this means? I'm BANKRUPT! BROKE! I HAVE NOTHING!"
Eriol nodded. He didn't say anything for a while and then responded very quietly, "It's just money."
"Yes it is," Syaoran buried his face in his hands. "Eriol, i know what you are thinking…there are more important things than money and I'm sure that you're right. The only problem is I don't know who the hell I am without it."
Eriol studied his friend for a while. "So you'll find out. "
He handed Syaoran the piece of paper in his hand. "Here's a proposal. It's a difficult business decision, but think about it."
Syaoran read it carefully twice, feeling a bit perplexed.
"Japan?"
6:30 Tokyo
Tomoyo hands shook involuntarily as she fingered this morning's paper. If only she could bring herself to flip the page to the Arts Section, where her review was.
She took a deep breath and gagged on her own scent of hair mousse, sweat, champagne and haute couture fabric shipped from Paris. It reminded her too much of last night.
After all those countless hours, nights without sleep, endless sketched and scribbles, finding the perfect accessory for every individual outfit in her line, Tomoyo expected everything to work out perfectly. Her grandmother always told her, "The key to success is hard work. Nothing more, nothing less."
Right.
That line probably worked if you were eight and still believed in fairytales. The real world is a lot more complicated and unpredictable.
Tomoyo opened her purse and prepared herself. A girl can't read things like this without her favorite lipstick. She had to reapply twice, because her lips wouldn't stop trembling.
She knew what was coming. She could tell right away, after her dear friend Tanomi came up to her and pressed his face to her cheek.
Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!
Tanomi was ever so flamboyant but he was the nicest fashion critic in the industry. But even he couldn't put in a good word for her show. "The runway was…your clothes are just not fitting for right now."
"What's that supposed to mean
"Your clothes are just… behind times, sweetheart."
The phone rang and Tomoyo snapped out of her thoughts and picked it up clumsily. It was her assistant, Rika.
"Ms. Daidouji?"
"Yeah?"
"I need your approval for a brunch meeting by Mr. Syaoran Li."
"Syoaran Li?" Tomoyo racked her brain. Where had she heard that name before? "Is that guy on the news? The Hong Kong billionaire who lost all his money?"
"Yes, that's right, Ms. Daidouji."
"Eh…what does he want?"
"I'm not sure, ma'am. He just requested to see you."
"Where?"
"Today at 10:30 at the Yoshida Restaurant."
Tomoyo raised her eyebrow. Pretty fancy place for someone who just went broke.
"Okay, Rika, tell him I'll meet him there."
She hung up and, for a moment, felt curious about this man but it quickly disappeared as her eyes lingered back to the newspaper on her lap.
Just open it. It's like ripping off a band aid. Just open it.
She flipped to page six.
FASHION DISASTER! TOMOYO DAIDOUJI's FALL LINE FALLS FLAT! RUNWAY ROADKILL!
Tomoyo ripped the newspaper in half and crumbled it into a ball. She couldn't read any further.
Ever gotten a paper cut? The nasty kind between the fingers.
That was what it felt like, a hundred times over.
!0:30 am Tokyo
"What a beautiful girl."
Tomoyo stepped into the restaurant and walked over to the reservations table, completely unaware of the attention she was receiving from the tables around her. Her long, dark locks spilled over her perfect shoulders, and as she took a seat by the window, the sun caught the glimmer of her Pucci dress, in all its pink, orange and greens.
She stared at the empty seat cross from her and frowned. The waiter hurried over immediately, "Can I get you something to drink?"
"Martini, very dry," Tomoyo said, fishing for a cigarette in her purse. "Did Syaoran Li come in yet?"
"I'm afraid not, ma'am."
She crossed her legs and checked her watch. If he's not here by the time I finish this cigarette, I'm leaving.
And just like that, the noise in the restaurant began to accumulate.
"Look at that face!"
"He's soo tall!"
Tomoyo turned to see what the hype was about. And there he was, Syaoran Li, six foot two, dressed down in jeans and a simple black sweater, and walking towards her with a mix of smugness and confidence. For someone who was lost his entire company, he didn't look like he was suffering at all.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he said, taking a seat across from her. He flashed her a small, apologetic smile. "My jet was delayed."
Tomoyo looked him up and down, feeling a bit annoyed. She had taken the time to get dressed, expecting a serious business meeting and he showed up like they were going to the movies. And how the hell does he still have a jet?
"It belonged to my father" Syaoran said, as if he read her mind.
The waiter appeared, and Syaoran ordered a scotch.
"I've heard a great deal about you and your work, Ms. Daidouji.
"Likewise, Mr. Li."
"Syaoran, please."
Tomoyo uncrossed her legs. "Okay, Syaoran, let's get right down to business. What is it that you want?"
"Have you ever heard of that old Chinese fable, the one about two wolves?"
"…no."
"They were great predator, great hunters, and leaders of their packs. But they were worn out and soon they couldn't hunt anymore. They just lost it."
"Are you implying that I've lost it?"
"Not me," Syaoran said, motioning towards the man on his left reading the newspaper. "But some people did."
Touche, man, Touche.
"Okay, what's your point?" Tomoyo inquired.
"The two wolves then began hunting together. It wasn't in their nature, obviously, but they did what was necessary. And together, they became the greatest pair in the forest."
"You want us to merge?"
"Yes. I think together, our companies could do great things in the future."
Tomoyo shook her head disbelievingly. "Why would I want to do that? No offense Syaoran, but you just lost big. And it seems like you just want to drag me down with you."
"I have lost big," Syaoran agreed his voice steady. "I lost it all. It's sad and it's regrettable. But I'll spare you the sob story because it doesn't change anything. I may not be able to bankroll you today, Ms. Daidouji, but I know this business and I know I can pull back. I just need your help…if you are willing to give me a hand."
For a moment, Tomoyo considered it. It was very moving, the way he spoke, with his low voice and quiet dignity. In rare instances, a person can make such an impression in only a few lingering minutes and that was what he did.
But she was independent. She worked alone. And she didn't need this.
"I'm sorry," Tomoyo said. "I'm not sure this is something I want to get into."
There was a slight, awkward pause. The two looked at each other curiously. Neither of them knew what the other was thinking.
"Well…" Syaoran got up to shake Tomoyo's hand. "Thank you for meeting with me, Ms Daidouji"
"My pleasure."
The two left the restaurant together, turning the head of everyone they passed. It was only noticeable to a few watchful eyes that the soft natural highlights in Syaoran's hair complimented Tomoyo's and their eyes were the complete opposite colors. Or that they smiled sheepishly at each other when Syaoran held the door open for her.
Did it mean anything?
Who knows.
The best beginnings are ambiguous…
A/N: that was the first chapter. What do you think? I hope it's alright.
-SliceHumblePie