Gallery of Broken Hearts
(02: the dramatic duo)
Syaoran's fingers quickly slid the buttons of his shirt into their rightful slits. A burst of pride swelled within him at the additional weight of bills folded in the back pocket of his jeans. Just a few moments ago, he had been engaged in the type of behavior most people looked down upon. But for Syaoran, this was simply another typical day. Another day, another deal, another broken heart, and another load of cash.
"I still don't understand how you can live with yourself, hurting girls like that," said a voice, and it gave the heartbreaker a little start. He thought he had been left alone since everyone was supposed to be in class right now, but apparently he had thought wrong. Syaoran turned around to see Sakura standing several feet away from him, her hands positioned at her hips. She was slowly shaking her head in disappointment.
"I'm sure you don't understand many things," Syaoran replied carelessly, patting her head as he walked past her. The girl delivered him a sour look, but it was one he didn't receive due to his lack of attentiveness. Without looking back, he asked, "Why aren't you in History class?"
"I went to the restroom," said Sakura, smoothing her hair back into place. The action had been in vain— her chin-length, layered hair was a natural mess, though it somewhat flattered her. It was one of the only things she had in common with Syaoran aside from smarts, as far as she knew. Catching up with her classmate, she continued. "Michiyo is crying her eyes out in one of the stalls."
"Girls tend to do that after they're broken up with." Syaoran's indifferent answer caused Sakura to sigh.
"She's a friend of mine."
"Oh," Syaoran responded plainly, giving a shrug. He glanced down at the girl next to him; he was a full head taller than her. She responded to his nonchalant expression with a look of disapproval. Syaoran quipped, "Is this the part where I apologize about what I did, even though it has nothing to do with you?"
"Never mind."
"How nice of you to join us, Li and Kinomoto," Mr. Tohno droned from the chalkboard as the pair entered the classroom side by side. Their fellow students exchanged amused glances and chuckled lowly at their sarcastic teacher's next words: "Tell me, is this a sign of a blossoming romance? You two seem to be spending more time together."
"Trust me, it isn't, and we haven't been," Syaoran said, flashing an amiable smile at the entire room. He was able to maintain an impressive amount of charisma even in awkward situations, and it caused Sakura to bristle with annoyance. Unlike Syaoran, she was a bumbling and clumsy individual.
But Mr. Tohno had spoken the truth: Over the course of the week, Sakura and Syaoran had gone from spending absolutely no time together to speaking on a daily basis. No, it wasn't because they enjoyed each other's company— that was far from accurate. In actuality, they were paranoid about the other not keeping their end of the deal. They were watching each other like hawks.
Sakura promptly pulled out her notebook, textbook, and writing utensils after returning to her desk. Syaoran took his sweet time retrieving his materials, demonstrating yet another aspect of his character that Sakura disliked. He was lazy, but achieving high marks seemed like child's play for him. As for Sakura, it had cost many sleepless nights of studying and countless tutoring sessions for her to earn her current rank.
"We've already split into partners for the in-class assignment," said Mr. Tohno. "So you two will have to work together."
Sakura and Syaoran glanced at each other before shrugging simultaneously.
"Number forty-seven is B," Syaoran mumbled, quickly marking down the answers on the worksheet intended for Sakura and himself. "Forty-eight, E… forty-nine, A… fifty is obviously C… alright, we're done."
Sakura stared, dumbfounded, at the boy sitting across from her. He had completed a fifty-question assessment in only fifteen minutes, all by himself.
"You didn't even let me read the questions!" Sakura complained.
"Oh, quit whining," Syaoran retorted before sliding the paper in her direction. "If it'd make you happy to check my flawless answers, then go ahead."
Sakura snatched the paper from the table and skimmed through it— Everything seemed right. She set it down without a word, and held back a huff as Syaoran grinned triumphantly.
"I can't believe you're tied with me for valedictorian," said Syaoran. He and Sakura had been competing for the top-ranked student of Tomoeda High School practically the moment they had first stepped foot on campus. But their techniques of going about achieving the title of valedictorian contrasted greatly. Syaoran was naturally intelligent, but Sakura normally had to study her heart out in order to perform well in her classes.
Sakura simply smiled. "Actually, I'm going to be a few points ahead of you soon."
"Very funny."
"I'm serious."
Still refusing to believe her, Syaoran's eyes narrowed. "You're serious?"
"Yup," Sakura nodded, then giggled. "We're only tied for now. But after this year is over, I'll be dominating on top."
Syaoran was too taken aback to make a mockery of her words, which screamed innuendo. "How is that possible?"
"You made it possible— by making a stupid academic decision to enroll in only five classes this semester."
"Oh, come on. Having a free period is one of the best perks about senior year."
"Not arguing with you on that one. But I'm more concerned about graduating at the top of our class." Sakura smiled adorably while Syaoran continued to glare at her. "So while your lazy butt is making out with your victims during sixth period, I'll be earning some extra points in an arts class."
Syaoran sighed and leaned back in his chair, eyeing Sakura mischievously. "Oh, you poor thing. I didn't know you had trouble coloring between the lines."
Sakura stared at him coldly. "For your information, it's Drama. And it's not an easy A."
"Drama, huh? That's perfect for you, considering you're a drama queen and all."
"Shut up!" Sakura's smacked a fist against her desk, her voice raising a decibel. "I am not a drama queen!"
Suddenly, all eyes were on Sakura.
"See what I mean?" Syaoran told her in the smug tone Sakura abhorred. "You're an attention whore."
"At least I'm not a manwhore."
There was a certain classroom in Tomoeda High School's campus with a design entirely different from the rest. It had black walls, black chairs, black wooden boxes scattered across a black floor, and absolutely no windows. Once the bell rang for final period of the day, students began to trickle into this dark, seemingly dreary room. Amongst them were Sakura and Tomoyo.
"Last class!" Sakura cheered, stretching her arms overhead as she settled into her seat. Although she was eager to finish off her day, she didn't mind this period. They had only been in their second semester for a week, but Sakura had a knack for acting and Intermediate Drama had easily become her favorite part of her schedule.
The typical "front" of a classroom, where students would normally direct their attention, did not exist. Instead, the chairs were arranged in a cozy circle. In the middle of the circle of students stood Ms. Zuki.
Their teacher was a rather eclectic woman with red frizzy hair and vibrant goldenrod eyes. She flung her arms in the air and exaggerated her hand movements as she informed the class of news and announcements.
"… And remember, my little doves: Today is the last day to switch in or out of Drama, but I'm fairly sure we won't have anyone retreating…"
"I wonder what we're doing today," Tomoyo said airily, momentarily resting the side of her head against Sakura's shoulder. She smiled dreamily. "I hope we'll do some romantic scenes eventually."
"You're correct, Ms. Daidouji!" tittered a voice, and Tomoyo jumped. Ms. Zuki had heard her. The enthusiastic woman turned to the rest of the class. "We are going to be discussing our final projects today. Each one of you will participate in a scene taken from various romantic plays. I know, I know— 'It's the beginning of the semester and we're already talking about our final projects?' That's because I want to give you enough time to practice your skits during these next six months, so we can all have remarkable performances on finals day."
As Ms. Zuki continued to rave about the project, Sakura sensed a new presence beside her. In the way the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, she immediately knew who it was.
"What are you doing here?" Sakura hissed, casting Syaoran a sidelong glance. "Shouldn't you be frisking some girl in a dark corner right about now?"
"Nah," Syaoran replied, slouching in his seat. "I decided to transfer into Drama. Did you really think I was just going to let you slide past me by a few points? You're not beating me for valedictorian."
Sakura fumed, and Syaoran teasingly slid an arm against the back of her chair. Not wanting to cause a scene— in Drama, of all places, who knew?— Sakura reluctantly allowed him to keep it there, but a flurry of death threats spun in her mind.
"Besides," Syaoran continued under his breath, a wolfish smile playing at his lips, "I don't need a free period for any sort of sexual stimulation. Maybe we'll get paired up for a kissing scene."
He winked at her. Sakura reddened and shot him a disgusted look.
"Tomoyo, would you happen to have a bucket? I need to vomit my organs out."
Tomoyo chuckled quietly into her hand.
"Alright!" Ms. Zuki clapped her hands together once, snapping everybody to attention. "I'm going to need all the male students in this room to write their names on a slip of paper. Once that is done, I'll dump it all in a hat so the girls can randomly choose their partner."
"Hey," Syaoran jabbed a finger into Sakura's side, causing her to twitch with surprise and discomfort. "Do you have paper?"
"No," Sakura lied.
"Here you go," Tomoyo said kindly, pulling a blank sheet of paper from her blue notebook and reaching over Sakura to hand it to Syaoran. Sakura grumbled incoherently in annoyance.
"Thanks, Daidouji, you're a doll." He paused. "How about a pen?"
"For goodness' sake!" Sakura spat, tossing her pink pen onto Syaoran's lap. "Someone as unprepared as you shouldn't even be in the running for valedictorian."
"I can't believe you're being so bitter about that," Syaoran cackled, ripping a piece from the paper and scribbling his name onto it. He hopped up from his seat to hand it to Ms. Zuki.
"Now, the moment of truth," the teacher bellowed, holding out a fedora filled to the brim with folded sheets of paper. She extended it to each girl in the class, and destiny did the rest.
Excitement began to swarm within Sakura's stomach as the moment for her to choose her partner drew closer. She nearly shoved her hand right through the fedora's bottom when it was offered before her face. Sakura withdrew her hand from the hat in anticipation and nearly tore the paper in half upon reading it. The slanted name was written in pink ink.
"What does it say?" Syaoran asked, dreading the girl's answer by the traces of nausea crawling across her features.
"It says…" Sakura stared stoically at the paper between her fingers and solemnly stated, "Stupid fathead."
Syaoran rolled his eyes. "AKA, me?"
"You think so, too?" Sakura smirked at him. Syaoran swiftly snagged the paper from Sakura's grasp and stared down at his own name. Great. It wasn't as if they hadn't worked together before, but performing a romantic scene would be absolutely chaotic. They were hardly civil to one another, so acting as though they cared about each other seemed completely out of the question. Syaoran couldn't help but wonder if he had jinxed himself with his earlier taunt regarding becoming Sakura's partner.
"Really, what were the chances?" Syaoran scoffed, discarding the paper. He turned his eyes toward the heavens. "It's like somebody wants us to strangle each other to death."
Sakura's eyes darted frantically across the room in search for their teacher. "Maybe we can comp—"
"I don't want to hear any complaints!" Ms. Zuki called out to the class in a firm voice. Sakura wrinkled her nose in near submission before a brilliant idea hit her.
"Hello, best friend in the entire universe!" Sakura beamed at Tomoyo and affectionately cuddled against her. "Wanna do me a favor?"
"No, I will not trade with you," Tomoyo replied, obviously content with her match. Her eyes glittered at the two grouches next to her. "You know, it's a shame you guys don't get along. You two would produce beautiful offspring!"
They stared at her incredulously.
"I wouldn't have babies with him even if the fate of mankind depended on it!" Sakura declared, crossing her arms and turning away defiantly. Her cheeks were flaming.
"Good," Syaoran muttered, "because I'd rather not waste my sperm on you."
Tomoyo was in stitches. "Ohohoho!"
"She's just eating this up, isn't she?" Syaoran commented disdainfully. Sakura nodded in exasperation. She loved Tomoyo with every fiber of her being, but sometimes the girl's odd taste in humor was simply too much. However, she understood why Tomoyo had the ability to put up with Syaoran; she was a very patient girl. Sakura had grown very grateful for that aspect of her best friend over their years of friendship.
"As you all know," Ms. Zuki resumed her lecture, fluttering her lashes, "I am a very romantic person. So don't be surprised if I use all of you to bring my romantic fantasies to life!"
The students stared at the deranged woman with crooked eyebrows and unblinking stares of disbelief.
"Isn't there a law against that?" a student asked, causing the entire room to erupt with laughter.
"Raise your hand if you just transferred in today," Ms. Zuki said, and a few hands lifted into the air. Her eyes landed on Syaoran. "You, there. Come on up!"
Syaoran obliged, walking to the center of the room.
"Name?" asked the teacher.
"Syaoran Li." He suddenly felt a familiar heat radiating from several pairs of feminine gazes. It was a sensation he had grown used to, and it was something he wasn't afraid to admit: Girls were always undressing him with their eyes.
"Mr. Li," began Ms. Zuki, "You will be demonstrating the trust exercise."
"As if he could ever be trusted," blurted out Sakura, and she hated herself for not refraining from saying it, because now the attention was on her.
Ms. Zuki eyed the blushing girl with a wide smile, and beckoned her with a single finger. "Please join us at the center of the room, Sakura. Since you feel the need to criticize Syaoran, you might as well subject yourself to the same treatment." As Sakura trudged to the middle of the class in embarrassment, Ms. Zuki continued. "Actors will always face criticism, regardless of the quality of their performance. There will always be someone out there, ready to sink their teeth in."
Nobody really knew what the woman was speaking about— then again, nobody ever truly did.
Sakura couldn't help but think that Syaoran's earlier comment had been completely correct: It was almost as if somebody wanted them to torture each other, considering how often they were partnered up.
"You two are aware of how the trust exercise works, yes?" Ms. Zuki asked the pair, and she grinned in spite of their unenthusiastic nods. "Then go ahead and explain it to the rest of the class."
Syaoran and Sakura's answers came out in a jumble.
"It's when one person stands in front of the other—"
"—and the person in the front falls back—"
"—and the person in the back catches that person—"
"—having faith that the person behind them won't let them fall—"
"—but knowing Syaoran, I'm probably going to end up with my skull cracked wide open."
Ms. Zuki blinked. "Ah… yes… thank you for the splendid explanation, my bunnies. Would you be so kind as to demonstrate this exercise for us?"
Sakura bit the insides of her cheek; the last person she ever wanted to fall against was standing right behind her. After a moment or two of the girl's stalling, Syaoran told her, "This isn't going to give you a cracked skull, okay?" He smirked. "A concussion, maybe. But not a broken skull."
"Oh, whatever," Sakura grumbled, and held her breath as she prepared herself to fall. The moment she felt herself tipping back, there was a little lurch in her heart. She stumbled and caught herself.
"Aha!" Ms. Zuki gestured at Sakura's falter. "This is a prime example of not having faith in your partner. Sakura clearly does not believe Syaoran will catch her."
Syaoran's eyes glistened with false disappointment, and it caused most of the girls in the room to coo and warble affectionately.
"Perhaps you should try this with another partner, Syaoran," suggested Ms. Zuki, clearly amused. She moved her bright gaze around the black room. "Any takers?"
Thirteen hands shot up. Sakura rolled her eyes.
"How many freakin' keys do you have?" Syaoran groaned impatiently, shifting his weight from leg to leg as he watched Sakura fumble with her keychain. There were at least seven keys attached to it.
Sakura narrowed down her collection of keys to two that appeared nearly identical. She had been living at the same house since childhood, yet it was still a challenge for her to keep track of each key's function.
"Hmm… no, that's not…" She glanced at the fidgeting Syaoran and sighed. "Can you stop that? You look like a little boy doing the pee-pee dance."
"Pee-pee dance?" Syaoran brought a hand to his face and laughed until tears began to gather at his eyes. "Oh, man. Now I do need to pee."
In spite of their desire to be away from each other at all times, Syaoran and Sakura were determined to ace Intermediate Drama. Due to this shared goal, they had agreed to start practicing their scene as soon as possible, and the chosen location for their rehearsals was Sakura's house. Sakura exhaled breathily in frustration before finally seeking out the proper key.
"I wonder if anyone's home," Sakura mumbled to herself, pushing the front door open and sliding her shoes off. Once Syaoran followed suit, they walked into the living room.
A tall man with graying hair and broad shoulders occupied one of the couches, reading a newspaper. Syaoran didn't think Sakura bore any significant resemblance to this man, causing him to wonder if she had inherited most of her mother's genes.
Fujitaka Kinomoto peered over the rim of his glasses and smiled at his daughter. He set down the classifieds and asked, "How was school, Sakura?"
"Hi, Daddy! School was good." Sakura greeted her father cheerily, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and giving him a light peck on the cheek. Syaoran observed the scene before him with a sort of low-key fascination; he had never seen this sweet side of Sakura, and it was rather funny and unfamiliar to him.
"I'm glad," said Fujitaka, then he nodded at Syaoran with kind eyes. "Who's your friend?"
"My classmate, Syaoran Li," Sakura replied dully as she drew away from her father. "We're not hanging out, we're just going to practice a scene for Drama."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kinomoto," Syaoran smiled and firmly shook the man's hand, causing Sakura's brow to lift in surprise. But her slight shock toward Syaoran's charm left as soon as she remembered how great of a bullshitter the boy was. He wasn't going to fool her; she knew exactly how she worked, or so she thought. Sakura's bitter thoughts were broken as her father began musing aloud.
"Syaoran Li… Why does that name ring a bell?" Fujitaka's questioning expression suddenly lit up, as though he had been struck by a revelation. "Ah, I remember now!" He looked at Sakura with absolute amusement. "Is this the same Syaoran Li you had a crush on back in elementary school?"
The room fell silent, and Fujitaka was the only one grinning.
"I don't know where you got that from, Daddy," Sakura responded slowly and gravely, her devastated, pink face tattling on her. "But that is not true." She glanced at Syaoran, whose eyes had widened a bit, and repeated, "It's not true. Don't listen to him. He's old and becoming very, very, very senile."
"I'm not that old," replied Fujitaka, still smiling in spite of Sakura's demeaning comment. He leaned back on the couch and opted to take a lovely stroll down memory lane, much to his daughter's immense dismay. "I also remember the days you'd come home bawling because of the 'Syaoran-Stupid-Fathead' boy who would always score higher than you on math tests. It was adorable!"
Syaoran raised an eyebrow. How long had he been a "stupid fathead" to her, really? Suddenly, his mind projected the image of a seven-year-old Sakura sobbing and blubbering about missing one question less than him on a simple multiplication test. It caused him to smile slightly with nostalgia.
Sakura was nearly beet-red at this point. "Math isn't my strong point, y'know."
"I remember those days," Syaoran inputted as Sakura basked in embarrassment. "I'd always be disappointed whenever Sakura beat me in spelling tests, so I guess we're even."
Fujitaka's eyes glinted with pride. "Yes. She's a smart one, isn't she?"
Sakura anticipated Syaoran's answer; he was obviously going to agree in order to keep up with his polite act, but she could tell that Syaoran was most likely internally scoffing at the question.
"The smartest," Syaoran admitted, and there was no trace of dishonesty in his voice whatsoever. Sakura almost believed him. Almost.
"Well, no more lollygagging! It's time to practice!" Sakura proclaimed, grabbing the collar of Syaoran's shirt and nearly dragging him upstairs. She shouted over her shoulder, "We're going to be in my room, Daddy!"
As soon as Fujitaka was out of earshot, Sakura began griping under her breath. Syaoran started to chuckle as they entered Sakura's bedroom, and for a brief, dark moment, Sakura wondered if she could get away with murder.
"Your room is so messy," Syaoran criticized, examining his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the bed (naturally), which was unmade and laden with lacy pink pillows. The lavender walls were covered in countless photographs of Sakura and her friends and family. A collection of stuffed toys dotted across the floor of her room. There was a pink trash can in the corner, but the candy wrappers and balled-up pieces of paper seemed to sit around it instead of within it, as though Sakura had tried tossing them in the bin and failed miserably.
Sakura stood in front of her computer desk, which overflowed with papers for homework assignments and the like. Sparkling stickers of cute Sanrio characters danced around the screen of her desktop.
In lieu of a proper comeback, Sakura retorted, "As if yours is any better."
"Actually, my room is very tidy."
"That's probably because nothing interesting happens in there." When Sakura didn't get a rise out of him, she merely shrugged and began clicking around on her computer. "Well, Ms. Zuki said that she'd e-mail everyone their skits, so hopefully it's in my inbox by now. Oh, yay! It is!"
Once the file finished downloading, Sakura eagerly read the scene.
"Oh, it's so heartbreakingly romantic." She sighed wistfully. "It's a shame I'm doing this scene with you. What a waste."
Syaoran glared at her before hovering over her shoulder and quickly scanning the words on the screen. "You call this romantic? The guy in this skit is an idiot."
"Then you shouldn't have much trouble getting into character, idiot."
Syaoran straightened his posture, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans. "Are we going to do this or what?"
"Fine, fine," said Sakura, printing two copies of the scene and handing one to Syaoran. He let out a breath of contempt as he skimmed the script for a second time.
"You should start with your monologue bit," suggested Sakura, moving to stand in front of him. "Once you have that down, the rest will be easy since they're shorter lines."
Syaoran nodded, receiving Sakura's advice without any smart aleck comments. He glanced at the script again. They had been assigned to play the roles of a troubled couple by the names of Kei and Megumi. There were two parts in the script in which each character had a monologue, and Kei's seemed to be the more emotional one.
Taking a deep breath, Syaoran began.
"Go ahead. Hate my guts. I deserve it. I'm scum. But when I'm with you, you have an effect on me like no other woman. You…" Syaoran paused and looked up from his paper, gazing right into Sakura's eyes. "You make me want to projectile vomit."
He burst out laughing. Sakura grabbed a pillow from her bed and smacked him upside the head.
"Syaoran! That's not the line!"
"I can't help it! This scene is so stupid."
"You should be better at this," Sakura growled. "I'm sure you say stupid things to your clients' girlfriends all the time."
"Hey, we're getting out of character," Syaoran said, finally overcoming his laughter. He reached out a single finger and poked Sakura in the stomach. She promptly buckled over and squeaked, biting back a giggle.
"Could it be?" gasped Syaoran, a hand flying to his mouth, which was agape in feigned shock. "Have I discovered Sakura's ultimate ticklish spot?"
"No," Sakura replied, narrowing her eyes at him whilst backing away. Syaoran grinned deviously and directed his outstretched hands toward her, his curling fingers appearing claw-like. "Don't you dare touch me, Syaoran!"
Her warning came a moment too late. As soon as Syaoran's fingers made contact with Sakura's belly, he pressed down and made wiggling motions against the fabric over her skin. Sakura exploded with uncontrollable laughter.
"S-stop!" Sakura cried out between giggles, her vision blurring over with tears. "Seriously, I-I'm going to— to— pee or something!"
In an attempt to force Syaoran to quit, Sakura grabbed his wrists, and they began to tussle with one another. Sakura's laughter weakened her even further, but she continued to struggle against him. Suddenly, their wrestling caused them to stumble and lose balance; Sakura felt herself falling back and Syaoran felt himself falling forward. Before it completely registered in their minds, the inevitable occurred: They collapsed onto the bed.
"Syaoran—" Sakura laughed, kicking at the boy on top of her and missing horribly. Tears trickled down her face. "Get! Off! Get off me!"
"So," began Syaoran, easily pinning her down with one hand and continuing to tickle her with the other. He was smiling triumphantly as she squirmed with laughter beneath him. "You had a crush on me in elementary school, huh?"
"Hell no!" Sakura shrieked, flailing around with a stupid smile on her aching face. "Guh! My cheeks are so sore!"
As Sakura let out a groan, the bedroom door swung open.
"Your cheeks are what?" bellowed a deep voice.
Touya Kinomoto stood at the threshold.
Sakura and Syaoran froze.
"Uh…" Sakura trailed off, and Syaoran scrambled away from her, tumbling to the floor in his frenzy. As Sakura sat up, Syaoran made a worried note of the girl's appearance: Her clothes were wrinkled and her disarrayed hair could definitely be misinterpreted as post-makeout hair… or worse. It didn't help that she had been struggling with breathing during her laughter, and was currently panting heavily.
"What the hell is going on." Touya's eyes were afire, and he was obviously too pissed to punctuate his words with a question mark. Syaoran understood; it wasn't a question, it was the beginning of a death threat.
"It's none of your business, Touya," Sakura retaliated, trying to look defiant, but she resembled a rag doll that had been tossed about. She glared at her older brother, who had the physical traits of a professional athlete, and who looked like he could break Syaoran in half at that very moment. "We're just practicing."
"What could you possibly be practicing for?" demanded Touya, his eyes menacing slits. "Teenage pregnancy?"
From his spot on the floor, Syaoran dared not speak.
"Oh, puh-lease. We're doing a skit for Drama." It was clear Touya didn't believe her by the look of utmost skepticism on his face, so Sakura continued. "You don't have anything to worry about, Touya. Syaoran's not into girls, if you catch my drift."
Sakura aimed a brilliant smile at Syaoran, who silently replied with a look that read, 'Are you kidding me?'
"Really, now…" Touya lifted an eyebrow and turned to look at Syaoran, whose expression changed like lightning; he was now grinning idiotically and bobbling his head in agreement with Sakura.
"Mhm!" Sakura answered happily, reaching down and roughly patting Syaoran on the head. "Yup. He's as gay as they get. So maybe you should try dating him!"
Touya deadpanned. "Don't even go there."
With that, he left— but not before shutting the door loudly behind him. After a few seconds of silence, Syaoran decided it was safe to speak.
"Just so you know… I'm probably the straightest guy you'll ever meet."
"Yeah. Sure you are."
Syaoran sighed and stood up. "I'd better head out. We can practice another time." His gaze wandered to Sakura's window, and he stared thoughtfully at the branches of the tree behind it. "I'm leaving through your window. I'd rather not face your bloodthirsty brother again."
"Is widdle Syaoran scared of my big, bad brother?" Sakura hopped to her feet and began raking a hand through her tangled hair. "You know, he probably thinks you're cute. Cute enough to eat, that is."
"Cute, hmm?" Syaoran smirked as he unlatched Sakura's window with a flick of his fingers. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye. "Where'd that thought come from?"
"Get out!" Sakura practically pushed him out the window, but Syaoran was too swift for her; he was out of her room and in the tree in a matter of seconds.
"You liked me in elementary school!"
Sakura stuck her tongue out at him and slammed the window closed.
A/N: Something I would like to address: I know Syaoran is typically portrayed as a "player" in AU fanfiction, but I promise the story gets better! Just wait and see~ anyway, I hope you guys liked the chapter, and I apologize for anything that was too cliché. I just couldn't help myself! Stay tuned; Syaoran's plan to make Eriol a single man is coming up next. In the meanwhile, let me know what you think. :)
