Asking For Syaoran
Chapter 3 – Being Lonesome Together
By silverymare
Disclaimer: CCS is one of CLAMP's best works. I own nothing except plot and new characters.
A/N: OMG!! Thanks for the support so far! I am over-whelmed and very pleased with all the reviews! XD I know a lot of you have been waiting for this chapter, so without further ado…
Behind him, the door clicked decisively into place. Dressed to travel into the dwindling day, Syaoran stood outside his apartment, adjusting the lapels of his coat. Making no move to walk, he nodded to the elderly couple that had appeared from the hallway elevator.
Looks like they caught an early dinner together. Syaoran noted how they both looked happy. The old man held his wife's hand tenderly in his and they smiled secretly at each other. Neither seemed to notice him. He didn't really care because they were only wizened people he'd met a few times. Nevertheless something inside of him envied their contented appearances. He looked down at his hands, suddenly bitter.
Why? Why am I feeling this way? Despite the bitterness lingering in his mind, strands of longing curled around his heart. He gritted his teeth.
I do not need her company.
Hands tightening into fists, Syaoran fought off the momentary weakness. He was suddenly unbelievably angry. Angry at missing the familiar presence of that certain someone. Angry at even the thought of missing someone.
He did not need someone to feel complete.
Enough. That is enough.
For a moment Syaoran studied his gloves with a glare, reining in his unruly emotions. His hands were clad in thick green, his warm gloves a security blanket as city evenings grew colder and colder. Winter was fast approaching.
Syaoran shook his chocolate mop of hair, growing annoyed with his cluttered thoughts. With his mind slightly cleared, Syaoran headed down the stairs, wrapping his snug green coat tightly around his body.
It had been after his brief but cold shower when Syaoran decided to go out.
His planned schedule had been to work. There were always business transactions to be done by mobile, work on his laptop, and design plans to look over. When he was tired out with all that nonsense, he'd usually cook something simple for dinner. After that, some time was allocated to settle down with the newest edition of the Financial Times paper (leisure) before heading off to bed.
I've still got Mother's package to look over. Syaoran's hand stilled on the rail.
Despite all that had been planned, Syaoran found himself acting listlessly. He was unable to concentrate on any given task. Stranger still, this detachment from reality refused a home-cooked meal. It demanded cold, fresh air and loud, noisy voices to drown out the inner voice.
He supposed that part of it was the inevitable that was approaching – sole leadership over the Li Clan. That meant more and more pressure. Less time for freedom and … love. In isolation, Syaoran had seldom found the need to travel away from Hong Kong, let alone the Li ancestral estate. Most business transactions could be placed through direct calls, via internet, or by ushering a person of importance through the dragon steel gates.
These city streets were much less packed than the human masses of Hong Kong; Syaoran was out of his comfort zone. Most of his life had been spent behind walls, in his Mother's faultless gardens or in boardrooms of an executive's office. The sight of unfamiliar streets and stores always made him irritated, no matter the fact that he'd never truly been allowed out to venture alone.
He snorted when a strand of chocolate hair fell in his line of vision. He glared at the offending piece of bang. I need a haircut. Syaoran's hand let go of the stair handle. Why am I irritated? He asked himself. What don't I have? Having reached the bottom of the staircase, he stepped onto the Laine ground floor and regarded his surroundings with a sharp glance.
The woman who was the lobby secretary nodded to Syaoran as he walked past her service table, giving him a cursory glance over. Double taking, the woman's eyes took in his figure for an extended moment before ending her casual conversation on the lobby phone. She straightened up and brushed down her clothes a bit self-consciously. He ignored her lingering stare as he breezed past. He was not a piece of meat. He'd met plenty of women like that before.
With steady steps, he pushed through the golden doors of the apartment multiplex. With a shiver he hunched down and pulled his coat around him tightly. The wind was especially biting that evening. That or he was more sensitive to the cold than he realized. He reluctantly descended onto the street, his aversion to the cold seemed not quite as unpleasant as the thought of staying in his warm apartment alone to stew over his screwed up life. Perhaps dinner outdoors would provide a distraction from his flurried thoughts.
Grumpily, Syaoran acknowledged his stomach's grumblings. Most days, Syaoran's culinary skills satisfied his demand for food. Other times he tried ordering delivery by phone, and dined in at home. For the first time since he'd first arrived in this seaside city, the need to immerse himself in other's company seemed attractive. Unfortunately, as he scanned his street, where he was and where to dine were the most pressing problems. Openly glaring at the closed clothing outlets all along his street, he noted that he didn't recognize one single place. A hard glint shone in his eyes.
I guess I'll have to wing it.
Behind and above her head, the wind chime bobbed and waved farewell. Smiling, Sakura stepped out of the archway and turned back around to clutch the door handle, pulling it shut. Standing in front of the shop, Sakura briefly dug into her pockets, searching for the key. Fishing out the keys from her jeans, she deftly locked the darkened Nadeshiko's, its interior empty and hidden in shadows. Turning around, she regarded the empty roads. She rubbed her arms for some warmth.
It was the end of her working day and Sakura could already feel the weariness pressing on her. I've got to deal with those bills when I get home. And then visit Father tomorrow. She walked down the shop's steps; her feet lightly touching the grey pavement. She turned around to survey the store before turning away.
Goodnight, Mother.
She began walking leisurely along the street. While continuing her route through the dimming avenue, she sighed gently as she heard the nagging of her inner voice. It sounded awfully like someone she knew.
'Sakura, be careful when you walk home.' She mentally shrugged off her Father's voice.
Personally, she didn't believe it was too dangerous for a girl to still be out and about. The way home had always been through public walkways and main streets. The likelihood of a mugging was almost zero. Sakura smiled sadly. It hadn't really hit her how he was still in hospital. She could almost picture him walking alongside her. Her chest constricted briefly cutting off her breath. She hastily exhaled.
Father, I miss you. Everyday, I miss you.
She smiled through her momentary sadness. I miss our walks together. Our house is so quiet without you. I have no one to talk to. I... A lone car zooming past startled her out of her reverie. No. No sad thoughts. Everything is going to be okay, and he's going to get out of the hospital any day now. She tried throwing a smile out into the air. She took in a huge breath.
Then she slowly sniffed the air. Mmmm. A delicious smell drifted towards her. Anyone could hear the open air restaurants – the clinks of glasses and plates – and smell their fare (oh, she hadn't had take-out for a very long time) around this time of the day. The next corner was lined with cafes, and some small restaurants that made their livelihoods upstairs of others. She wrinkled her nose in slight longing. Dinner. Alone again.
She squinted at the fading light. It's getting darker. What time is it? Six o'clock, maybe? The rush hour, always packed with gruff business men and laughing school children, had already passed. The dying sun was just touching the fading blue horizon, framed by the asphalt road and tall buildings. Sakura admired how the last light rays streaked across the thin clouds. It reminds me of when I look at the ocean, she thought absentmindedly. A tiny wind playfully flirted with her brown bangs, now free from the shopkeeper's green uniform and cap. Work time was officially over.
The day was winding down, and with it, Sakura. After work, the walk home had been the time in which her father and she would talk about everything; life, love, the search of happiness, ethics and flower meanings. There had always a bit of small prattle - a time to forget the shop's debts, the dwindling number of customers, Sakura's night school assignments, how tired they left her and how weak her father had slowly been growing. Sometimes they just tried to guess what type of flowers would grow on each apartment balcony.
She walked past the closed boutiques and clothes outlets, ignoring her distorted reflection. Most days at Nadeshiko's, absent of her father's presence, Sakura spent much of her day working. Night time was engaged in wrestling with her night school assignments. Yukito often helped out in both areas, her one-off study partner, while Rika was the emotional support when Sakura was ready to stab her books. Free time and days off were reserved for the visiting hours at the Prince Alfred hospital.
Father. He'll want to know what happened today.
In her head, she recited what she'd say. Yesterday morning started out slightly hectic, there were a few wedding orders, but the afternoon was empty of customers. Yukito and I had nothing better to do than play noughts and crosses behind the counter. Oh! And, I've finally got a trick to beat you! And since you weren't there, we played a few rounds of poker. Besides that, nothing much happened. Actually, there had been. One of the poker rounds had seen Sakura win with a Royal Flush, much to Yukito's slight exasperation. He'd claimed it was 'beginner's luck'. Sakura's green eyes twinkled at a building's reflection of herself; it had been so funny seeing his face. She let out a small giggle.
And yes, I'm fine. I am eating regularly, and keeping up with my work. She waved to some children across the road. Perched on their house steps, three ragamuffins watched Sakura pass them by with a strange fascination. Hesitantly, they waved back to her, cautious but curious nonetheless. Her eyes sparkled with amusement when she saw a dirty pair being dragged from that mob of children by an irate mother. And the city people haven't changed a bit. Somewhere up above her, Sakura heard laughter and music.
She craned her neck up to look up. So tall. Skyscrapers, she thought, always had people walking in and out of them. In the sky, they always watched as people closed up their livelihoods at night, walked away to their own homes, and grow dark inside and out. They were also the ones who had to stand still as birds wheeled around their figures, flying free. Her heart twinged at that thought. Ah. I wonder if skyscrapers ever feel lonely? Do they ever want to fly?
She shook her head at her own whimsical thoughts. She should concentrate on getting home. Above, a part of her noted a loud party's existence. Focusing beyond, her green eyes could see distant figures socializing and she faintly heard a subwoofer's doof-doof bass pumping some crazy dance beat.
Oof.
With her features tilted towards the fading light above her, Sakura's body collided with something warm and a bit itchy. A Something that smelled of chocolate and spice. Quickly blinking and stepping back, Sakura tried to clear her eyes of the moisture that had surfaced. Not again! This is the third time I've bumped into someone! She almost groaned out loud, before catching herself. Sakura kept her eyes to the shadowed pavement, embarrassed. Her cheeks flamed pink and she let out the tiniest 'Hoeee'.
"I'm sorry! This is the third time it's happened today! I really didn't mean to—"
In the dusk of the day, she finally got the nerve to look up. She risked a peek under her eyelashes to get a look at who she bumped into. His face was hidden in shadows. She blinked and stepped back. The shape of his face – his scowl was very familiar. Where have I seen you before?
With a stern furrow on his brow and a similar frown on his lips, Sakura could feel his distaste at her bumping into him. Her eyes widened. The hard planes of his cheeks, the unmistakable mop of cocoa… Syaoran Li?
The man that she'd bumped into was the same young man. It was rather startling how different and the same he seemed, a Syaoran Li that was decently dressed in businesslike clothes, walking steadily and wearing a scowl on his face. She couldn't help noticing how his hair, the exact colour of rich chocolate, fell in the way of his eyes. Huh. She couldn't miss the startling appeal he exuded. She lightly dismissed it. There's something else that's strange. Now that he wasn't falling sideways like the first time they'd met, she noted how out of place he seemed. What was he doing, roaming the streets alone and unattended?
In the growing dark that surrounded them, the lamplights above their heads flickered, before slowly growing to a steady gleam of light. Silence, a sound not heard often in the city, stood between the two of them. He broke it.
"You should look where you're going." His tone was curt, almost dismissive. He turned to go. Sakura, realizing that he hadn't recognize her, let out a sigh, unsure whether or not she was relieved or a bit insulted.
"Wait a minute."
Sakura looked back up. Syaoran had stopped, his coat-clad back facing her. He stiffened as if he'd just recalled something. His figure slowly turned around, his shoulders tense. His gaze met hers, before recognition finally hit him. A confused look appeared on his face.
"I've seen you before." He paused, moving closer to scrutinise her flushed face and cheeks, her almost-timid gaze. Green. He thought. Wasn't she wearing something green before?
"It's you. That girl from this morning." I'd forgotten I'd met you, he thought, finally identifying the irritating feeling that had plagued him this afternoon. He had obviously forgotten meeting this girl. Huh. Now that I think about it, wasn't she the one who left me on my couch? An eyebrow threatened to twitch.
She nodded, seemingly a bit relieved. "I delivered your pre-ordered peonies this morning."
With a furrow on his brow, Syaoran was distant for a moment, trying to recollect the events of their meeting. His memory was fuzzy, but he gathered the general impression that he'd gotten. Something about flowers. And the doorbell. And then what happened…?
Brighter pictures swam into his head, of him punching the wall and of her tripping over the staircase and bending down to make sure he was okay. Of hearing the doorbell ring and ring and ring.
Realization dawned on him.
I… I… passed out after binge drinking? And let a stranger help me into my own apartment?
His golden eyes widened in surprise and abject horror. He'd dropped his guard that low? His expression turned grim. Imagine if it had been someone unpleasant, wanting more than just to help me. Mother would have been very disappointed. His eyes turned flinty, reproaching himself.
Her voice cut through his inner monologue. "Um… are you feeling better? I wasn't sure whether or not I should have checked up on you, but knowing how we're perfect strangers. I thought that would probably seem a bit awkward…" She slowly trailed off, a bit self-conscious now that her companion had returned to a lucid state of mind. She slowly shifted her weight from one foot to another.
Suddenly realizing she was still there, he relented. His seriousness seemed to unnerve her, and he amusedly watched her flinch as he placed his eyes on her. But I owe you now, girl. And I don't like being in debt.
Quietly and awkwardly, he bent his head in respect. "Thank you for helping me today. I was inebriated beyond my control. I'm not normally like that." He was always professional. He couldn't help but notice her constant movements, be it the fingers or her feet shuffling.
Uncomfortable with his politeness and his exacting manner, Sakura hesitantly smiled at him. "It's okay. You needed help. I was just lucky to be there." A door closed in a house nearby and she flinched at the sound.
He was silent, almost as if he was waiting for her to say something more. The noise didn't nudge his stoic stance.
"Uh, I guess… I'll be going home now," she said, her eyes nervously shifting around. Looking past his firm shoulder, Sakura finally noticed that the sun had almost disappeared below the horizon. She glanced around at the growing shadows around them. Yes, I definitely have to get home. It's getting dark. She tentatively raised a hand to wave goodbye, met his gaze and pivoted, walking away.
Unaccustomed to being left behind, Syaoran frowned. A still figure on the dimly lit street, he pushed both gloved hands into his pockets before glaring at the overhead surgical-like lights. His ears, now without conversation to listen to, picked up other noises. Yes, he could hear those people who were out socializing. Laughter. Happiness. Bitter with the knowledge he had no one to spend time with and lost on the streets, his throat convulsed.
"Wait."
His voice wasn't exactly loud. It wasn't soft though, and the sound of it seemed to echo between the space of Sakura and him. Nonetheless, she heard him and stopped in her steps. She really hadn't gone further than five metres.
"Yes?" she asked, without turning around. He was quiet, puzzled at himself and his own actions. If she had turned around, she would have seen an almost adorable expression of confusion flash across his face. Why did I call out? He asked himself.
"You know, I really do have to get home. I have someone at home who's waiting for me." She sounded clear and confident, but inwardly she cringed. I lied. But I shouldn't be out late at night. It isn't always safe. Her inner voice chided her. That's what Father would say.
"I'm sorry." The admittance came out rather harshly, cold and angry, but curious nonetheless. Why would he still stop and call her back when he was embarrassed by his behaviour? Sakura turned back around to regard the strange man that stood not very far away from her. She gave him a considering look. I don't know why, but he's different from anyone else I've ever met.
He continued, not letting her ask anything. "I was just wondering if you'd know somewhere where I could get some dinner. I haven't been around this city very much, let alone know enough roads to get a solid opinion of the local cuisines." He looked as though he wanted her to apologise for his lack of knowledge. Sakura looked away, thinking.
Something clattered in a nearby trashcan, and a cat's tail disappeared into the shadows. Both didn't notice it.
Slowly, she walked closer to him, though his eyes stalked her movements. In answer to his questioning look, she gave a small smile. "It doesn't make much sense to exchange conversation from such a distance."
He looked taken aback for one second before absentmindedly nodding. His moved his gaze away, letting it rest on the emptiness of the street in which they were residing. A baby cried somewhere. Tiredly, he rubbed an eye with a green, wooly finger. Sakura considered his plea, self-defensive though it was. It doesn't hurt to help him. He does seem so overwhelmed by everything.
She mouth worked while she thought things through. "I know a place that has some nice affordable food. And they do quality coffee and tea if you know how to get it." He looked sharply at her, but she wasn't looking at him.
His eyes searched her face, looking for signs of lies. "…Could you possibly show me where this place is?" Inwardly, he gritted his teeth. Being lost is one thing, but not knowing your home's surroundings… Viciously, he made a mental note to spare some time in his schedule to explore around his apartment building so incidents like this never occurred again. I will not be compromised again.
"Sure. It's not too far from here, just around the corner block." Determinedly, she started walking in the direction she had originally been headed. He tailed her, deciding not to walk beside the young woman.
Both were quiet. Sakura, stifled by it, sighed uncomfortably. Behind her, Syaoran stiffened but did nothing. When she stopped momentarily to look up, his gaze followed hers.
All he could see was a darkened skyscraper and the night sky, covered by dark clouds. Quizzically, he stared at her.
"What do you think of skyscrapers?" she asked, out of the blue. She felt his eyes on her but ignored it. What a strange question… Deciding to indulge her, he replied stiffly, after giving some thought to the question.
"Skyscrapers are a place of business." He said. "What else is there?"
"Is that what you really think?" she asked, a frown worrying at her lips. Sakura looked at their reflection beside a darkened pharmacy window. Who was this young man with bags under his eyes?
"It's all I know." She could hear his solid conviction in those words.
She nodded but didn't reply. Maybe I'm alone in what I think. She nodded again, though whether it was directed to the man following her or herself, she didn't know.
In Syaoran's eyes, this eccentric girl who helped unfamiliar men to their couches and restaurants seemed quietly absorbed in her thoughts. Strangely, he wasn't sure if he liked this peace or not.
The sounds of clattering plates, chattering voices and a live band flooded Sakura's ears as she descended the stairs. Relaxing a bit in the familiar atmosphere, she craned her head to look back. There were many heads and bodies in the wake of her passage, but she managed to spot Syaoran's brown mop doggedly following her down the narrow stairs into the converted cellar. She smiled. This place had been transformed into an eatery a few months earlier.
She paused to let him catch up. It took Syaoran a while, but he managed to reach her at the bottom of the stairs. Leaning in closer to her, he tried to get away from the many bodies brushing him. It was most uncomfortable. Seeing his guide looking around, Syaoran endeavored to converse.
"What is the name of this place?" he asked, eyes roving around the closely-knit crowd that Sakura had undoubtedly led him into. Slowly, he took it all in. The first thing that had first hit him about the room was the red walls. Gaudy gypsy-red walls. From what Syaoran could see between the lighting and bodies, there was a black poppy design stenciled over the redness, leaving the room with a stark but vibrant atmosphere.
Sakura missed what he said. Turning around to ask him what he'd attempted to talk about, she watched as he pulled away from her. A red-cheeked woman burdened with a flask of hot tea had brushed up against his coat sleeve as she barreled her way through other patrons. Syaoran was left standing with a scowl on his face. He's so stiff, she thought, so different from that other time.
She hid a smile. She turned back around. Hoeee… Now what should I do? She felt a bit helpless. It was too strange to be helping him again. Again? He's a stranger! What had possessed her to do something like that? We should probably get a table. Or a cubicle. Her sense had returned to her.
"Chiharu! I need a booth!" she called, her voice floating above the laughter. Most patrons ignored her, knowing who she was addressing. Others, who were most likely newcomers, looked up at Sakura and then away, momentarily ruffled.
Somewhere in the back of the café, where the bar was, a loud, authoritative voice answered. It was accompanied with clinks, as though china cups were being roughly treated.
"Sakura? Is that you?"
A girl with thick pigtails and tired brown eyes popped up from behind the white marble bar. She was carrying empty beer glasses on a tray, placed against her hip. Carelessly but with a relaxed ease; the owner of the underground hangout wiped her forehead with a handkerchief.
"Sakura! I wasn't expecting you 'til Saturday!" Chiharu's surprised laughter rang over the band's strumming. Syaoran watched as Sakura's stance relaxed. The flower shop girl moved towards her friend. She's friends with that loud thing? Huh.
Chiharu quickly deposited her glasses onto the bar counter, wiping her stained hands on her apron, before she and Sakura collided into each other with a tight hug. It was obvious they were close. In the background, Syaoran watched as a quiet young man took over Chiharu's bartending post.
Alone but alert, Syaoran's eyes roamed around his parameter. The calculative amber noted the signs of a prospering business; the pleased faces, the steaming food served, the rapid work of the old-fashioned cash register. His active mind itched with all the possibility of a takeover, of adding a food chain to the Li Clan's endorsed businesses. He caught himself. It's not always the work. It was a half-hearted attempt at lying to himself.
Irritated at himself for thinking about work, Syaoran turned his head to look at the patrons surrounding him. The crowd mainly consisted of a younger gathering, as girls and boys mingled together with some pockets of mature-aged clientele. His amber eyes noted black hair, a red ribbon, a blue-checkered top and jeans in the throng, but no one bothered looking back up at him.
Syaoran scanned a few more faces. When his gaze caught a man's stern eyes, the other's brown eyes held his gaze for the slightest of seconds before Syaoran felt himself dismissed. Syaoran bristled unintentionally and shoved his gloves into his deep pockets. He seethed at the floor. It's not worth starting a fight over. He couldn't stop the unconscious glare.
Someone tugged on his arm. His thoughts were interrupted as another arm looped into his own. He felt the warmth of it through the coat. Startled, he looked up. Sakura caught the briefest emotion of surprise –for that fleeting moment his face looked younger, she noticed – before his face became blank again.
"Come on. Chiharu's giving me one of the nicer tables." She paused, considering what she'd said. "Actually, it's a cubicle, since I figured you liked your space. Come on!"
Sakura was back in front of him, leading the way through towards the shadowy back of the café. She still held onto his arm, though she knew he could walk perfectly well without her help. Bewildered behind his mask, he saw that most of these cubicles towards the back of the eatery housed couples wanting privacy. He felt the urge to sneer but the feeling passed.
Sakura smiled into the movement of many people having their meals and chats, easily dodging the elbows and figures in her pathway. Friendly company, delicious meals served and happy customers. Chiharu must be pleased.
Sakura loved it. It was the same type of ambiance that Nadeshiko's occasionally housed. She reached the cubicle and slid onto the seat, patiently waiting for him. When Syaoran reached her, he stiffly untangled himself from her arm, an uncomfortable statue standing frozen until she gestured for him to sit down. He took a look at her curved, smiling mouth but decided not to comment. He sat down, a surly frown on his face.
Inwardly, Sakura sighed in exasperation.
Both were extremely silent now they were seated. Sakura, who felt the tangible awkwardness, wondered if she'd done the right thing in bringing him there. She took a quick glance at Syaoran, only to find him motionless, staring at the table. She stiffened.
Abruptly, he placed his hand on the table. Sakura flinched, but either Syaoran didn't notice or couldn't be bothered asking her what was wrong. Slowly, the hand started to tap on the white surface impatiently. Staring at it, Sakura gave it a quizzical look. It didn't stop. Neither of them continued to say anything.
Unexpectedly, Syaoran opened his mouth to speak.
"What's the name of this place?" he asked, in an attempt to rid them of their awkward silence. He'd never actually gotten the answer, having been interrupted before.
Sakura blinked.
"Ah… didn't you see it on the way in?" The words had been emblazoned on the doors leading downwards.
Still with the surly expression on his face, Syaoran slowly shook his head. He'd been too busy trying to keep himself from being jostled around by others on the way up and down.
"Oh." She paused for a second and then continued. "This is the War Room. Chiharu named it after all the damage that was left when her lying boyfriend and she had an episode. A customer had said it looked like someone had waged war in here, with all the things Chiharu had been tossing around." Sakura smiled at Syaoran, who looked away with a neutral expression. That had been a fun day… she mused, caught up in memory.
"I don't like this building."
It had been a stiff dismissal, the way he'd pronounced it. He looked away, eyes distant. Amber bored into a display of pitch-black coffee cups hanging off a wall, both decoration and utensil.
Syaoran didn't attempt to like the eatery. There were bright lights over his head that made him squint, a room full of different smells, loud voices and he felt too hot. A voice in his head suggested he take off his coat, but he ignored it. He felt like being stubborn.
"Look at me." Her tone of voice had changed into something else. Slowly, his eyes met her emerald-hard green. Sakura's eyes held his disapproving ones stubbornly.
"I respect that you're probably out of your comfort zone right now. But you wanted somewhere to eat. I brought you here because the War Room serves hot food at inexpensive prices. And the staff is really friendly. I also know the owner really well because she's a friend of mine. And I love this place. Everything about it."
She stopped to let her words sink in.
"Just try to enjoy the atmosphere. If you don't like it here, then you can go. I did as you asked me, I showed somewhere to eat." Her smile had disappeared and all traces of laughter had gone out of her eyes.
Sakura expected for him to stand up, give her a lecture and walk away. She'd expected for him to snub her or glare at her. She thought he might even yell at her.
But he didn't.
He just sat there, contemplative and quiet.
"We should probably order something," he said. His amber eyes caught her green and she couldn't help but admire the stubbornness in them, the refusal to back away and leave this place. He wasn't going to say sorry out loud, but in a way, he had.
She eased a bit.
"Sure, let's order."
The streets were dark, lamplights and apartment blocks the only source of light.
"I'll walk you home." It was an order, not a suggestion. Syaoran's hands were back in his pockets, due to the chilly air. He took in the girl who was standing away from him. He couldn't help noticing the green in her eyes seemed brighter because of her apparel. Then he wondered why she didn't seem cold, because she had less on her than him. Only a jumper and some pants.
Outside the street was quiet; the War Room's muffled noise below the cement under their feet. The silence was only broken by a small scuffling sound as a man dropped his used cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his foot. He took out another one and lit it up.
Sakura looked up at the night sky. She couldn't see any clouds but she could feel the likeliness of rain tonight. You could always tell when, it was in the smell of the air. I should be getting home.
She turned around to look at Syaoran. Sakura politely smiled, before brushing away her hair from her face. She hesitated for the slightest of moments before she shook her head. I'm sorry. I had fun tonight too.
"Thank you very much for offering but I can't accept. My father's waiting for me at home and I'll be fine walking." She slowly nodded, assuring herself too. I'm sorry I'm lying to you. It's just – I don't think it's very safe for me if you know where I live. In a situation like this, Yukito might have said she'd been naïve in bringing him to a café by herself, but Sakura definitely wasn't stupid.
"I've got to go. I'm already late. But thank you for keeping me company tonight." She smiled genuinely at Syaoran. He stood, watching her with a feeling of curiosity that he'd never felt before.
Sakura turned and left, this time not stopping to look back.
"Make sure she gets home safe."
"…"
"… Don't ask why. Just do it. Use your network or something."
A hand flipped shut the mobile, ending the conversation. The mobile disappeared into a coat pocket. A wallet was retrieved out.
He got up from his seat at the bar, paid his bill to an irate and yelling Chiharu (Yamazaki was late for his shift and was lying again), tipped the tips jar and slowly made his way to the exit. His brown eyes took one last scan of the War Room, busy and thriving, before he left, making his way up the stairs.
No one got in his way on the way back to the surface.
Emerging from the underground cellar and not in the least bit unnerved by the sudden silence, his eyes sought out a man who was casually puffing a cigarette. Their eyes met briefly, before the man snuffed his cigarette and gave a nod towards his superior.
The brown-eyed man, still at the entrance of The War Room's stairs, walked away. Behind him, the smoker left in the opposite direction.
He didn't notice. All he cared about was that she gets back home safe.
