A/N: Part I is up and (Woo hoo!) runnin'! I had it originally up and ready to upload earlier, but I wanted to rewrite some stuff, so that is what I did. Oh yeah, and this story often changes point of view. You'll know who's talking, just read on and don't freak out. Breathe.

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LORELEI

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by
The Anti Fluffy

Part I

He grabbed his golden travel name tag. His name appeared on it in bold block letters. He stood in front of the antique stained-wood mirror and pinned the tag to his freshly-ironed shirt. Before grabbing his uniform jacket, he ran through his mental checklist: wallet--check, hair--check, keys--check, suitcase--check, lint roller—check.

The young man reached out for the brassy doorknob but stopped himself mid-reach. He returned to the front of the mirror and looked at himself once again.

"Someday," he said out loud to his reflection. "Someday I'll find her and she'll make me want to change everything." He gave himself a cynical half-smile before reaching for the cool doorknob. "Someday."

I remember the first time I ever knew that traveling would be my life. My father was a well-known businessman who traveled, but was mostly resided through the "bridge" between England and Japan. He would often stay there for long periods of time, but he would always return with a smile and something for me. If you asked my father what he did for a living, he would answer with a laugh, "I go on vacation." He traveled all over the world—America, Norway, New Zealand, Australia--and sometimes took me places where I would sit in on important meetings about one thing or another.

When I was younger, maybe three or four, he would buy me little things from Japan like stuffed animals of characters from my favorite dubbed Anime shows. Like AnpanMan. Or Doraimo. And when I grew older, he'd buy me games for my entertainment systems. He had never taken me to Japan, but I didn't mind too much when he would leave for a few weeks here and there to go to the tiny island of a country, only to make sure that he would return as soon as possible with something for me.

The more gifts I got, the more I wanted to learn about this Japanwhere he was getting all of it. Did people over there talk like we did? Did they have unusual blue hair like mine or did they have green hair? My curiosity spread like never before, and I talked my father into letting me go to Japan with him.

When I got there, everything was so crowded, and overwhelming with lively people, rushing and running, and pushing and shoving to get from Point A to Point B. It reminded me of New York City—except, these people were beautiful, as was their language, even if it came breathlessly through the mouth of young lady calling for a taxi.

My opening introduction of Japanese clearly and without the sound of resounding horns in the background was in a meeting negotiating stock sales. The language rolled smoothly off my father's tongue as though it was his first language—as though he had known it all along—as though he created it.

It was at that moment that I knew I wanted to learn Japanese—and more.

I was seven years old then.

Fifteen months and many hours of Japanese tutors later, I could speak Japanese fluently and read and write over seven-hundred and fifty Kanji.

I've never told anyone that whole story about why I learned Japanese. I could never tell my friends that I had suddenly been changed and completely taken back by the breath-taking language. Who would believe me? It was utmost and total bullcrap.

Most of the time, just to keep my friends able to relate, I tell them that I flipped onto a Japanese porn movie and wanted to know what they were saying.

And sadly, most of the time, they can relate.

Tomoyo folded the last shirt carefully and slowly to ensure that no wrinkles would suddenly appear. After an afternoon entirely devoted to ironing, she didn't feel like doing anything over. She placed it into her large suitcase and smoothed it gently, examining the texture and color of the silk blouse.

"Tomoyo!" A high-pitched shout came from downstairs. Hurried feet sounded up the stairs before a large bang erupted and the door was open. "Tomoyo-chan!!"

"Hey Sakura," Tomoyo said calmly through the chaos, her eyes not leaving the light purple color of her shirt. She had not been phased at all by Sakura's jubilant entry. You could say that she was. . .used to it.

"Yay! You didn't leave yet! Oh, you must be so excited! I'm so happy for you! I mean, going off to Europe for vacation! Wow! I wish I could afford that. . .but, oh, I'll be with Syao-kun so. . ." she mumbled off.

Tomoyo nodded and smiled lightly. She closed the suitcase and zipped it up. "Yeah, you and Syaoran-kun have a fun time doing. . .whatever you two are going to be doing. . ." She pulled her long, dark gray lustrous hair over one shoulder and looked up at her friend.

Sakura's face flushed a brilliant crimson color at this remark. "We'll be good. I promise." Tomoyo grinned sincerely.

A quick flash emitted from Sakura's left hand. Tomoyo knew what it was, but looked down anyway, then quickly turned away.

She was so happy for Sakura and Syaoran upon their engagement and did not hesitate to act upon her joyfulness. However, gently pining for the large diamond ring that stood proudly on her best friend's hand was enough to remind Tomoyo of her own loneliness.

No doubt, she had been checked out by local Japanese boys walking down the street, asked out by boys she had gone to school with and turned down all of them. There was nothing between them and she knew it. No chemistry, no romance. She wouldn't pretend to like them just to have someone to hold her. Tomoyo's heart simply wasn't into hurting boys and breaking their poor hearts. She wanted to wait for the one for her.

Her "Prince Charming."

Where the hell was he anyway?

A/N: Wow, I'm making Eriol such an emo. Next thing you know he's going to jump onto the roof of his mansion, join Dashboard Confessional and/or All-American Rejects and sing something like. . . "I loved you, but you did not notice me! I sacrificed everything for you, but you do not know my name! (Insert emo tear here) I killed myself for you--" and then he won't be able to finish because he'll be crying. Haha. I think I'd pay good money to see Hiiragizawa-kun do that.

Oh yeah, and has anyone actually seen Anpan Man? Or Doraimo? Dude, I grew up with those Animes! Classic! Did they ever make a dub for those shows? I watched it clean, cut, and dry—Japanese and no subtitles! Wow, that was a long time ago…I'm so old!

Izzy: Yeah, you are old!

Takuya: Be nice. She's only 14.

TAF: Sniff. I thought you guys were gone forever. I love you, Takuya. You're so mean, Izzy!

Thanks to my readers:

Philippe: Thanks! I was hoping it was a good opening…! I love your name! I met someone named Philippe in Europe! He was French! Haha.

MoMo-ChAn1: Kyute or kawaii. Nandemo. I appreciate it all. Glad you liked it, and. . .here, have some. . .cotton candy! Yay!

pyro hisaki: I'm glad that my writing didn't suck too bad!! Thanks so much!! (cries tears of happiness) Have some. . .cotton candy!

Litanya: (still crying tears of happiness) Thank you. . .I understood your sentence. . .because. . .my sentences never make sense. (Like so.) Cotton candy!

Ukari-chan: I'm so happy that you like it so far! Yay! People like it! tosses the rest of the cotton candy

Well that's Part I, folks! See you next chapter/part thingy!