Disclaimer: All these characters belong to Clamp. I am only a fanfic author who wishes to play with them.

"I'll come back!"

Sakura ran as quickly as she could, never once taking her eyes off the brown-haired boy who was leaning out of the window, holding a winged teddy bear in his arms.

"When?!" she screamed over the loud roar of the bus' engine.

"When the things I have to do in Hong Kong are finished!" he yelled. The bus was accelerating quickly, and it was getting harder to her to catch up.

"When will that be?!" she asked, not caring that her feet were burning from the running, her muscles all seized up.

He leaned further out of the window, desperate to keep her in sight. "It'll take a while! Will you wait for me??"

"Yes!" Sakura said, the tears beginning to fall hard now. She fell back as the bus sped off into the distance, left behind on the pavement.

I'll wait, she thought. Forever, if I have to.

She stood there waving until the bus disappeared.

After all…

Syaoran is the one I love the most.


Chapter One

"I… don't… want… to… do… this… anymore…"

My voice came out of my mouth in a dry rasp as I collapsed onto the track, which was almost blanketed by the colourful leaves which fell every autumn. I'd just finished running eleven rounds around the Tomoeda Secondary School track at breakneck speed, and I knew that I was about to die. My gravestone would probably read: Here lies Sakura Kinomoto, whose life was wiped out by exhaustion caused by a 3.9 kilometre run in school.

"You don't have to, you've already finished it!" Tomoyo Daidouji, my best friend, tld me soothingly in her sweet voice. "Water?"

"Yes, please," I gasped out, grabbing the bottle she offered me and downing it in several gulps. When I'd drained the last drops I hurled the bottle aside and laid down flat on my back, spread-eagled, so all that I saw were the fluffy cotton-like clouds in the blue skies. "I'm never going to run like that again. Ever. I shouldn't have done it in the first place, but I really wanted to beat my personal best…"

"And you did." My Physical Education teacher, Mitsuno sensei, appeared in my line of vision, blocking a few clouds in the process. "Your new time for the 3.8 km run is sixteen minutes, Sakura. Congratulations!"

My classmates, most of whom were tired out from the run, gathered around me and sighed in awe.

"You're really good at running, Sakura," Naoko Yanagisawa said admiringly.

"Not just running, she's good at everything athletic!" Chiharu Mihara corrected her.

I grinned, embarrassed yet happy, thanking all of them before adding, "But I'm still not going to torture myself like that again."

"That's what you said the last week," Tomoyo teased.

"Well, I mean it this time," I said firmly. "No more racing around the track for me."

When Physical Education ended, we headed back into the school block to shower. I was still feeling woozy then, so Tomoyo had to help me into the bathroom. I sighed in relief as the cool water splashed over my overheated body, washing away the dried sweat on my skin. When I was done, I towelled myself dry and put on my school uniform, a blouse with a pleated dark blue skirt, before heading out of the cubicle, almost stumbling because of my weak, jelly-like legs.

"Tomoyo, are you done?" I called.

"No," she replied over the sound of splashing water. "You don't have to wait for me. It's Mathematics next, and Kaniko sensei is very particular about tardiness. I don't want you to be late because of me."

"No, it's all right, I'll wait—" I started to say, but then I remembered that I'd left my Math textbook in the library when I was doing my assignment the other day. "Oh, fudge it! I've left my book in the library!"

"Go get it then, Sakura. And quickly!"

I obeyed Tomoyo, dashing out of the toilet on unsteady legs, heading for the library at breakneck speed. I was barely watching where I was going as I dashed through seemingly endless corridors. All I was thinking about was Kaniko sensei, and how she's going to skin me alive when I turned up late for her class.

Why, oh why couldn't there be a Card called The Summon? Then I could easily get the book to fly into my hands…

Round the corner, towards the stairs…

There'd been rumours that Kaniko sensei hid a wooden cane behind her desk, even though paddling was illegal. She wouldn't illegally paddle me, would she? I didn't think I could stand the shame—

Before I knew it, I'd reached the stairs. My knees buckled under me, and the next thing I knew I'd missed the first step and was falling head-over-heels down the long flight of stairs. Screaming, I squeezed my eyes shut and prepared myself for a bone-shattering fall, but instead, I landed against something soft with a whump. For one moment I thought I'd stop falling then, but I was wrong. The thing I'd hit started to fall backwards, and then there was a thud as the thing hit the floor.

I took a deep breath and cracking an eye open. Not much good. I couldn't see anything much. So then I opened both eyes. And found myself staring into a pair of amused-looking yet pain-clouded amber-brown eyes.

The thing was a person!

Hastily I got up and apologised repeatedly as the boy got up, wincing, and gathered his fallen books.

"Well, this wasn't how I expected to meet you," he said, his deep voice somehow ringing a bell in my head.

I took a break from my apologies and looked up at him curiously. "You know… me?" I croaked, taking in the rest of his appearance. He was very tall, had dark brown hair which was in casual disarray, and a sharp, aristocratic nose. All in all, he was reallygood-looking. And there was something so familiar about him…

"Yes, I do know you," he said, chuckling. He paused, before adding, "Sakura."

I frowned, trying to remember where I'd seen him. He saw me thinking hard, and smiled charmingly. "Have you forgotten me already?"

The smile dazzled me, hit me like a lightning bolt. I recalled seeing the same smile on a younger boy a few years ago. And then I realised who he was.

"S— Syaoran?" I managed to stammer out.

And right after I said that I realised that there's nothing to ask. This boy was Syaoran Li. The boy who had helped me capture Clow Cards, and who'd stuck with me when everything went wrong and I had to turn them into Sakura Cards.

The boy who had once told me he liked me. The boy who gave me a teddy bear, which now sits in my room, and bears the same name as the boy who gave it to me.

The boy to whom I'd given a teddy bear, named after me.

And he's back.

All thoughts of Kaniko sensei and her cane flew out of my mind, and before I knew what I was doing I had flung my arms around Syaoran.

"You're back!" I whispered, happiness and contentment flooding through my entire being. "You're really back!"

At first he stiffened, but after a while he hugged me, too. Suddenly self-conscious, I pulled away and shuffled my feet nervously. Peeking up at him through my brown bangs, I saw that he looked very shy, too. Just that he managed to look incredibly good-looking while doing so, whereas I knew I still looked quite feeble from my run.

"So, are you back for real?" I asked shyly.

"Yeah," he replied, smiling. "All my duties in Hong Kong are settled. From now I'll be living in Japan."

"So I— we won't have to suffice for letters and phone calls anymore?"

"Not anymore," he said, grinning.

We'd been exchanging letters and phone calls the past four years. But the letters had gotten lesser the past year. The number of calls decreased. Perhaps because the both of us were so busy in our respective worlds. But even if there were plenty of letters and calls, I'd still have missed him just as badly. Maybe even worse. His handwriting and voice were the only aspects of him I was allowed to interact with, and they made me miss him so much. At least with less letters and calls, I wouldn't be reminded of him that often, and I'd be able to push him to the back of my mind. But he was never kept in the darkness for long.

On another hand the lack of letters and calls might mean that Syaoran didn't (this part is exceptionally painful) love me anymore. I used to think that if that happened, I'd find some way to either kill myself, or leave for some other country where I could begin my life, post-Syaoran, again.

And yet, seeing him now, larger than life and a thousand times more gorgeous than before, with the familiar warmth in his eyes, I knew that I would never do anything that would take me away from him. It didn't matter, I thought, whether he loved me or not. It'd hurt, of course. Especially if I had to see him marry someone else and have his own children. But the fact that I felt most content around him mattered the most. Tomoyo had once told me that it didn't matter whether the person she liked liked her back. I'd thought at that time that she was really generous and kind. But now, seeing Syaoran for the first time in four years, I fully understood what Tomoyo meant.

It was only when I saw Syaoran's lips moving that I realised he was talking to me, and came out of my trance.

"What?" I asked, embarrassed to have been caught not paying attention.

He merely chuckled. "I said, you seemed to be in a hurry rushing down the stairs before knocking into me. What're you doing?"

Only then did I remember the Math textbook. "Oh, shoot," I cursed. "I was going down to get my Math textbook, but then I forgot all about it when I bumped into you—"

"You can take my textbook for now," Syaoran said, and suddenly a Math textbook was resting snugly in my arms. I looked down at it, and then at its owner.

"Syaoran, I can't possibly take your book—"

He interrupted me smoothly with a self-assured grin. "I'm sure my teacher wouldn't mind if his new student doesn't have a Math textbook on the first day of school." Then he frowned slightly. "By the way, where is the class room of four-oh-eight?"

I stared. By the looks of it, Syaoran Li was to be in my class.

"That would be my classroom, too," I said finally. Then I returned the textbook. "I can'ttake the book, Syaoran. Your— my— our Math teacher is the strictest teacher. You have no idea how fierce she is—"

"I'll be more worried if you don't have it," he insisted, giving me the book again (which I accepted graciously, almost melting in his sweetness), then bulldozing on. "So, Sakura, care to show the new student to your classroom?"

"Yes," I said. "I care to show you to our classroom." As I headed up the stairs with him, I realised that I hadn't thanked him for lending me his textbook. Turning to look at him, I said, "Thanks, Syaoran."

He gave me another heart-stopping smile.

"Anytime, Sakura."

When I cautiously opened the classroom door, Kaniko sensei was halfway through explaining a problem on the whiteboard. She stopped immediately when she saw me standing outside, with my left hand on the doorknob.

"Good morning, sensei," I said.

Putting down the marker she's holding, she stared at me for a second before saying coldly, "Well, well… What have we here?"

While I was standing stock-still, my mind conjuring up various punishments that she could inflict on me, I felt a warm hand on my left one, and the classroom door swung open some more, presumably revealing Syaoran to the class.

"Good morning, sensei," Syaoran said from behind me in a well-mannered tone as he steered me into the classroom. "I apologise for our lateness. I'm Syaoran Li, and I've just came from Hong Kong yesterday. Sakura found me when I was lost in the hallways, and offered to bring me to her classroom. It's really thanks to her that I've even managed to arrive at this classroom."

I could only listen in awe at the smoothness with which he lied. There was an excited murmur in the classroom; majority of them were my classmates in elementary school and they knew Syaoran for the two years he'd studied there.

There were calls of, "Syaoran, you're back!"

Tomoyo looked at me, smiling broadly. She knew that I liked Syaoran. In fact, I was pretty sure that she knew, somehow, that I still liked him.

Syaoran grinned at people who greeted him, then looked at the teacher and gave her a charming smile, the very same one that made my knees go weak. "I hope you won't blame Sakura," he said. "She's been really helpful."

Kaniko sensei seemed really charmed. At least, the cold look on her face sort of slipped off. Well, of course it did. He could turn on the charm like nobody's business.

"It's all right," she said, less curtly than usual. "Miss Kinomoto, take your seat. Mr Li, you can take the seat right at the right corner of the classroom by the window. It's empty."

My heart skipped a beat while I walked to my seat beside Tomoyo's as I realised that Kaniko sensei was talking about the seat right behind me. So Syaoran is going to be sitting behind. Just like in elementary school.

When we'd both settled down, and after Kaniko sensei resumed the lesson, Tomoyo said an exuberant "hi" to Syaoran, who smiled back. Then she passed a note to me.

You went to find a textbook and came back with an old flame. Good job, Sakura.

I was about to reply when another note labeled "Yamazaki, Naoko, Sakura, Tomoyo, Syaoran, Rika" was handed to me by Chiharu, who was sitting in front of me. Curiously, I unfolded it and read:

Hey guys,

To celebrate Syaoran's return, let's go to the café at Main Street!

-Chiharu

I nodded to Chiharu before passing it to Syaoran. He too passed a note to me.

It read:

So, I'm sitting behind you again. Just like the old days.

Just like the old days, with the oh-so-tiny exception that he doesn't seem to like me anymore. I'd used to imagine that when Syaoran came back to Japan, we'd first see each other across an idyllic beach. Then we'd lock eyes, and violins would be playing a romantic concerto in the background. Then we'd walk towards each other slowly, disbelievingly, and he'd kiss me.

But no. I had to literally bump into him after unglamorously tumbling down the stairs. And even after we'd both picked ourselves up, there wasn't any kiss.

Although he did lend me his textbook very sweetly.

But it was still impossible to tell whether it'd be just like the old days. It'd take time.

And yet I found that I was picking up my biro and penning a reply:

Yeah. Just like the old days.

A/N: So, what did you think?