Syaoran's POV

"No way,Takashi! This is one of your tall tales, isn't it?!"

Takashi shook his head furiously, black hair flopping all over. "I'm not lyin'! Syaoran really did get all that food in five minutes!"

Futomaki frowned, shaking his head. If Eriol was the leader, and I was the right-hand man, that made Futomaki the . . . left-hand man? Yeah. I shrugged to myself and continued eating while listening intently.

"No one's that fast, Takashi!"

"No, no, it's really true!" Takashi insisted.

Futomaki growled, and grabbed Takashi's wrist. "This is what happens to those who tell bigger lies than mine!" He pulled back, ready to slug him.

I'd heard enough. In a flash, I was behind Futomaki. "And this . . . is what happens to those who lay an ill finger on friends of mine." My fist restrained his, and my sword-point was steady at his neck.

Silence in our mess hall . . . total, stunned silence . . .

"Good, we seem to understand each other. Could you maybe release Takashi?"

"He was spreading lies again!" Futomaki growled. I'd bet money that he was wondering how a sixteen-year old could beat him at twenty-three.

My eyes narrowed slightly, and my short temper was rising. Right about now, my eyes were probably hard. "Understand that this gang has no room for bullies. What you're doing with Takashi right now . . . wouldn't that be labeled as bullying? Release him, now, and let down your fist."

"You're just the right-hand man!" Futomaki sneered. "You've got no authority over me!"

"Get this into you think, tiny skull: you're the shittin' left-hand man. You've got just as much authority as I do! Let go of Takashi already." Members were obviously interested by now. Not only was Futomaki acting out of character, but they probably thought I was blowing this out of proportion. They'd seen my fury before, but never had they seen me so angry I was calm.

"No way! Being thieves is bad enough, but to lie?! That's even worse! A liar can't live off lies! He's worse than a thief!"

My eyes narrowed to slits, and I tensed ever so slightly. The tip of my sword nicked Futomaki's neck, and a solitary drop of blood fell to the floor.

"Let. Takashi. Go. NOW." I said, my voice icy cold. "I will not repeat myself again . . ."

Either Futomaki didn't catch my hint of a few threats, or he just didn't care. Maybe he just didn't even notice. He'd set his jaw . . . "No."

"I said let him go, gawd dammit!" I snapped. "I already said I wouldn't repeat myself, you shithead! Let him go before I lose my temper!"

Apparently, someone had gone to fetch Eriol. He took one look, and sighed. This wasn't the first time I'd made such a scene. Possibly he was remembering when he'd pushed me over my limit.

"Futomaki, do what Syaoran says. He may be fast to anger, but he tries to keep his temper in check, and it's bloody hard to push his limits. I've pushed him over the edge, and I have a helluva scar from it!"

We were interrupted by a soft thud. I'd forgotten about Futomaki's other arm. Takashi fell to the ground, nursing his already-bruising cheek.

Futomaki grinned and let go. "That oughta teach the bastard . . ."

My temper broke free, and I was red. "Damn you to hell, you bastard of a bitch." The light flickered off the blade of my sword.

"Dammit Syaoran, no!" Eriol wrenched me backwards, but he was a second too late. My strike had connected and blood spurted from Futomaki's back.

"Damn you, damn you, DAMN YOU!" I shouted, struggling against Eriol.

"Syaoran! Syaoran, calm down! Takashi's okay, just calm down already! You blooky fool, calm down!" Eriol's British accent showed through the strain.

It took a while, and the reassurances of Tomoyo, Eriol and Takashi finally calmed me down. "Takashi. You all right."

"Yeah, but my jaw hurts like hell . . ." Takashi tried to speak, but it was pretty jumbled.

"Well, come on then. We're going to the hospital." I nodded to Takashi, then called over my shoulder "Oi! I need two men to help with that idiot over there." I jerked my head towards Futomaki.

Two men nodded, and bundled Futomaki onto a stretcher.

"Tomoyo, don't you dare touch the blood. I'll deal with it when we get back." I called over my shoulder as I fetched my money. Then, I led the group of four to the hospital.