So here is chapter 4! Hope you all like it and thanks a ton for all the support!

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Chapter 4
Competition

There was nothing more Sakura could say, and her only consolation lay in the fact that there was nothing for Syaoran to say either. Duly chastised, she dropped into the nearest chair, and it was too late as she realized Syaoran had taken the chair directly opposite to her. She paid him no mind, concentrating instead on the members of the committee who filled into the room, each in his black morning coat and stiff white collar more dignified and serious-looking than the last. Eriol, Tomoyo's husband and Rui's cousin, was at the head of the group, and she nodded a hello and offered her best smile to the rest of the committee members.

Fujitaka-san was a man of business, and he didn't waste any time. He introduced each of the committee members, told them a bit about both Sakura and Syaoran and their respective companies, and proceeded to cut to the chase. "That gentlemen…and madam," he added with an apologetic look at Sakura, "is the heart of the matter. A fireworks presentation befitting her majesty's status, celebrating her fifty years on the thrown is too be held soon and we need to arrange it. Sakura-san, what do you have to say for yourself."

Sakura had expected that he would ask, and she was ready. "Good morning gentleman." Convinced he was in no way entitled to the designation, she stood and nodded to the rest of her audience, ignoring Syaoran completely. In precise detail she laid out her plans for the festivities. But she made the mistake of glancing to the man seated next to Eriol. He was the elderly Takaki-san, and apparently the stories of his lecherous eye were not apocryphal. The man wiggled his bushy eyebrows at her and gave her a wink.

Sakura lost her place in her presentation. She wasn't sure if she should laugh or throw him a dirty look, trying to convince herself neither was appropriate, she stared straight ahead instead.

It might have been an acceptable solution if Syaoran hadn't been staring back. He's seen the whole thing, of course, and he chuckled quietly.

Sakura ignored this and scrambled in her head to get her presentation back on track. It was a pretty speech and prettily said, and all but Syaoran seemed impressed. He covered a snort with a cough and excused himself. With her piece said, Sakura sat back down.

A strong buzz of approval met her from around the table and she raised her chin and glared at Syaoran, daring him to deny that she had done a good job and done it well.

She did not have long to bask in the committees admiration. Fujitaka-san shuffled through the papers in his portfolio. "And what about…? What about this new firework you've developed? The one you call…" he ruffled through another stack of papers and, finally finding what he was looking for, he sat back and looked at Sakura for an answer, "the one you call Diamond Rain."

The smile froze on Sakura's face, and it was only with the utmost restraint that she kept herself from placing one hand on her heart, the place where the precious recipe for her newest firework was safely hidden. She dared a glance at Syaoran, only to find him leaning forward, like a terrier on the scent of familiar game. It was a look she'd seen before. The same look he'd given her back in the days when he'd first heard about Emerald Mist and was pleading to get a look at the formula.

"Um…I would rather not say too much about Diamond Rain, Fujitaka-san" she said, "There is the matter of company confidentiality." She looked toward Syaoran, then back to Fujitaka-san. "But I can assure you, the effect is amazing. It's taken me many months to perfect it, and it's truly befitting to her majesty's grandeur. I promise it will be the highlight of the festivities."

Fujitaka-san nodded in understanding. "Very well." He looked to Syaoran. "Li-san, it's your chance to speak up. What do you have to say?"

Syaoran leaned back. "Say? Not a thing." As casually as If he were passing the time of day with his drinking cronies, he rose from his chair. "Unlike Kinomoto-san," he said, tipping his head at Sakura's direction, "I am not a man of many words. I would rather let my work speak for itself. And that, gentlemen, is exactly what I indent to do."

Without another word, Syaoran went to the door and threw it open, and along with everyone else in the room, Sakura caught her breath. It was the most incredible thing she's ever seen. And the most astonishing demonstration of Syaoran's arrogance she could ever imagine.

There outside the door was a woman, a beautiful woman, with beautiful brunette hair and eyes that reminded Sakura of a cat, sleek and foreign looking. She was seated on a kind of raised table that looked like one of the marble altar stones Sakura had seen in many Greek museums. The woman's brow was adorned with a circle of greenery. Her hair flowed over her shoulders and spilled over her ample chest that were barely concealed beneath a gown of some gauzy fabric that was draped to look like a toga. All around the base of the altar, scantily clad women tossed rose petals and held onto silken white ropes that they used to pull the altar into the room.

"Behold!" Syaoran intoned with a flourish. "The Oracle of Delphi! The Goddess of fortunes herself." The committee, all ogling the woman, broke into spontaneous applause. Too astounded to do anything but gape in wonder, Sakura watched the device roll to the head of the table. They passed Takaki-san, who drooled and could not keep his eyes off the goddess on the altar. And even Eriol, who for all the fact that he was madly in love with Tomoyo as she was with him, obviously appreciated the goddess and her all-too-apparent charms.

They stopped at the head of the table, and Syaoran gave Fujitaka-san and exaggerated bow. "You have the honour," he told him. He pointed towards a tall vase set on the altar next to the goddess. There was a bouquet of fantastic purple flowers in the vase, and Syaoran pointed at one long, thin green leaf. "Pull the leaf."

"Pull it?" Fujitaka-san did not look so sure of himself. "That's right, sir," Syaoran urged. "Go right ahead." He pulled back Fujitaka-sans chair for him, and when the old man rose, Syaoran nudged him closer to the altar and to the extraordinary woman who sat on it. "She doesn't bite," he told Fujitaka-san, and whispered quietly though it still managed to carry across the room, "unless you'd like her too!"

Fujitaka-san reddened to the eyebrows, but that didn't stop him from going along with the scheme. As eager as a child on Christmas morning, he approached the altar and grabbed hold of the leaf.

"It's a cracker." Sakura spoke in amazement below her breath. She saw exactly what Syaoran was up to, thought it was clear that others didn't know what to expect. The vase contained a kind of cracker, when a string is pulled…

Fujitaka-san pulled the leaf, and a deafening pop resounded through the room. A stream of sliver glitter and small several fireworks erupted from the vase along with a folded piece of paper that Syaoran caught in midair. "Here you are." He bowed and presented the piece of paper to Fujitaka-san. "Your fortune, sir. Directly from the Oracle of Delphi." Grinning with delight, Fujitaka-san opened the paper. His grin turned into a smile. It erupted into a laugh.

"My fortune," he said, and showing it all around. "My fortune says, 'Soon you will have the very good judgment to work with the company that can produce a jubilee celebration that will be every bit as fantastic as this demonstration. Soon, you'll be working with Li Industry!'" At this, the girls all began giggling and clapping.

The committee members cheered and applauded, and Sakura sank farther into her seat. The sounds still pounding through her head, she waited for the commotion to settle. It took some time. Like comrades in arms, the members slapped Syaoran's back and pumped his hand. It was, in short, a disgusting display of male camaraderie that Sakura had ever seen, and she could only sit quietly and bide her time and wait for the excitement to die down. Once the ladies were ushered from the room, the sensation subsided and Fujitaka-san was back to business.

Seeming to remember himself, he swept a flurry of silver sparkles from his chair and sat back down. "That was impressive, Li-san. I'm sure the committee would agree. I was not aware that so spectacular an effect could be achieved inside a building. It must take a great deal of skill. And imagination."

A study in modesty, Syaoran waved away the flurry of compliments. "It was nothing," he said, but it wasn't enough of a nothing to stop him from looking in Sakura's direction and offering her a wide smile. "Nothing at all. You should see what I'm doing at the Motoike music hall. There's a production opening tomorrow and-" he caught himself, and if Sakura had not know him better, she might actually have believed his stammer of humility. "No-no. That's not what we are here to discuss. The fantastic effects I've designed for the Motoike, the courageous Italian daredevil who is going to perform in my show at the Crystal Palace…those things are for another day. For today, we have the jubilee celebration to discuss."

They did, indeed, and Sakura had the distinct impression that they were all too ready to discuss it while the excitement of Syaoran's so-called presentation was still hot in their blood. Along with his continued hints at the dazzling effects and incredible shows, it was the last thing she wanted, and she spoke before any of the others could.

"You will probably wish to discuss your decision in private." She rose from her seat, and everyone present was obliged to stand. Sakura looked at Fujitaka-san, silently conveying her fondest wish that dignity would win out over sensationalism. "Li-san and I will gladly wait outside," she said. She moved towards the door and smiled with some small sense of satisfaction when Syaoran had no choice but to follow.

It was a desperate move, but Sakura was pleased to see that it had worked. There was only one problem with her plan of course. It meant that she would be compelled to wait outside, alone, with Syaoran.

Sakura should have known better.

She would never have a chance to be alone with Syaoran. Not while there were women anywhere about. No sooner had the door of Fujitaka-san's office closed behind them than Syaoran was besieged by the gaggle of giggling goddesses, each competing for his attention and one of his smiles.

"Yes. Yes. You were all wonderful. Really." He waded through them like Moses, not through a red sea but a sea of scarlet women, dispensing pats on their behinds, kisses on their cheeks, and finally money into their hands.

There was nothing that could be done but to get safely out of the way, and that is exactly what Sakura did. She went to stand beside the desk of the receptionist. Try as he might to keep his fingers busy and his eyes on the sheaves of paper he was filling with small, neat writing, the poor fellow could not help but stare. His gaze was drawn again and again to the thighs and hips and breasts that were so provocatively displayed beneath yards of filmy fabric. When he realized Sakura was watching, he reddened all around his face and got back to work.

"There you are, Nina!"

Across the room, Sakura saw Syaoran throw open his arms to the woman who was still seated on the altar. She climbed down, her movements rather unsure, her footsteps faltering, and it wasn't until then that Sakura realized the woman was thoroughly and completely drunk. That didn't stop Syaoran from enveloping her in a ferocious embrace. He draped an arm casually over her shoulders and, grinning from ear to ear both in appreciation of her performance and her physical perfection, he pulled Nina close.

"You were amazing! Wasn't she, girls?" he saved the last of both kisses and money for her, and was rewarded by Nina with a prize of his own, a kiss full on the mouth that lasted long enough to make the giggles of the girls all around them dissolve into sighs.

"Amazing!" grumbling the word, Sakura spun away from the scene. There was a window in front of her, and she stared out of it steadfastly, her fingers drumming against the sill, tapping out seconds that for some unfathomable reason seemed all too long.

Still, she held a tight breath of annoyance deep inside her, and didn't let it go until she heard the girls applaud and Syaoran's laughter ring through the room.

"Thank you all. You were all great. You are all adorable creatures. Too beautiful for words. I'll see you all at the rehearsal at the Motoike tonight. You too, Nina. Don't forget. That money is paying your rent, honey, not for drinking away at the bar."

He kept up a running commentary that faded bit by bit, and Sakura could only imagine that he was ushering the women out of the room and into the hallway beyond. He returned far more quietly than he left. Before Sakura knew it, he was standing at her side, holding out money in front of her nose.

"Oh! You're not one of the girls!" Syaoran grinned in mock embarrassment and tucked the money into his pocket. "I saw you standing there, and I thought you were one of my Motoike beauties. It's a shame you're not. You would definitely look sexy in one of those—"

Sakura whirled to face him. With the girls gone, the receptionist was back at this work in earnest, but she fought to keep her voice low nonetheless. Theatrics might be to Syaoran's liking, but they did not appeal to her. "You really are despicable," she told him.

Syaoran's grin widened, and he quirked his eyebrows in a most maddening fashion. "Nina doesn't think so." Sakura's lips thinned. "I don't think she knows any better."

"Maybe someone should tell her."

"Maybe they should."

"Maybe that someone should be you."

"I don't think so. She needs to find out for herself, poor girl, I'm afraid she'll find out sooner or later. Your true colours will show, and she'll know you for the man you really are." Syaoran's smile vanished, and he laid a hand on her arm, not so much to hold her in place as to command her attention. "Do you?" he asked.

It was not a question Sakura was expecting, not one she was sure she could answer, and for a moment she stood dumbstruck and confused. In this light, Syaoran's eyes were rich amber, bottomless and ever-changing. They were fired with flecks of gold that shimmered in the early morning light. Every trace of his laughter was gone, drained from his voice and from his expression. He held Sakura's gaze, his fingers tightening even so slightly against her gray jacket, his eyes demanding an answer.

It was a look she'd seen before, though even in the day of their engagement, it had surfaced all too infrequently. Syaoran saved it for those rare private moments when he abandoned the brash persona he wore like a suit of armour and showed another side of himself. Try as she might, Sakura had never been able to discover if this facet of his personality- thoughtful, intense and sincere- was any more genuine than the other. She'd had four long years to think it through, and she was no closer to an answer now than she had been then. The problem was, Syaoran hid behind so many faces, she was convinced that even he didn't know which man was the real Li Syaoran.

And if he didn't, she certainly want about to try and puzzle it out.

"I know you're the kind of man who isn't above using devious methods to sway the committee's opinion." Her words were enough to break the spell. Though he didn't move his hand, Syaoran's hold on her loosened and a smile played again in his eyes. "You call that devious?"

He glanced towards the door where only minutes ago his bevy of women had departed. As if he could still picture them and all their all-too-clearly displayed charms, he smiled with real appreciation.

"I'd say it was anything but devious. It was outrageous, yes. It was a bit flashy, I admit it. But it was brilliant and you know it. I wasn't trying to be the least bit devious. It was perfectly obvious what I was up to. I was trying to appeal to the members of the committee. Unlike you, with your well-said and quite moving speech, I was appealing to their natural interests, plain and simple."

"Well, you definitely appealed to Takaki-san. I have no doubt he is in there right now praising your geniuses and urging the committee to put you in charge of the fiftieth anniversary festivities, and sixtieth, the seventieth, and her eightieth too. You have Takaki-san's support. That's for sure. He was practically drooling all over your charming Nina."

"And I promise you, she didn't mind one bit. You might have had his vote, you know." Dangling the obvious in front of her, Syaoran cocked his head and waited for her to admit it, and when she refused, he continued.

"You might have played up to him a bit more. You know, when you were talking, old Takaki was goggling you as if he was a starving man and you were a buffet."

"Shut up!" Sakura shuddered.

Syaoran laughed. "You might have given the old boy a wink. What could it hurt? One thing's for certain, it either would have assured you of his vote or stopped the old fellow's heart in mid-beat!"

Sakura bristled at the very thought, and showing far more compassion than was usual, Syaoran amended it. "Too conspicuous for you, eh? Or too sensational? All right, then, if its subtlety you're after…you might have flashed him that famous smile of yours." He turned his own smile up a degree and moved a step closer. "I haven't seen much of it lately, but I remember it. I remember it could dazzle the stars out of the sky."

And he could make a woman forget to breath and forget her name.

Sakura shook away the thought and the feel of Syaoran's hand against her arm, and retreated as far from him as she could, as fast as she could manage. Her escape was apparently a bit too fast. It was the only thing that could account for the fact that by the time she got to the other side of the room, her breathing was ragged and her face felt as if it were on fire.

She was saved from trying to think what it might all mean when the office door snapped open and Fujitaka-san peered outside. "We are ready to give you our decision," he said.

Eager to get on with it, Syaoran rubbed his hands together and smiled. Sakura didn't share his enthusiasm. She didn't need to remind herself that the future of her company depended on what Fujitaka-san was about to announce. Her encounter with her brother earlier that morning had etched the importance of the committee's decision on her heart. Touya, with his intemperate spending habits, his endless gambling, and his indiscreet womanizing, had depleted the company's monetary support.

And of all people, it was Li Syaoran who was firmly standing in the way of her success. Yesterday, before she knew Syaoran was back, she'd looked on the opportunity to obtain the contract for the anniversary fireworks as a source of her pride.

Today, she knew it was more. Much more.

It was a matter of survival.

The one thought pounding through her head, Sakura lifted her chin and glided back into the committee room. She would very much have like to stand at the doorway so that she might flee quickly when the committee announced, no doubt in far more diplomatic terms, that they had succumbed to Nina's charms and decided to award the contract to Li industry.

But she couldn't. The members of the committee rose when she walked in, and etiquette demanded that she be seated so they could sit too.

Hoping against hope for some small reassurance or some sign that her imagination had gotten out of hand and overruled her common sense, Sakura looked Eriol. He firmly refused to meet her eyes. She glanced to the right of her, and found the men staring down at the paper on the table in from of them. She braved a look at Takaki-san, but the only encouragement she got from was a wiggle of his bushy eyebrows that told her the last thing on his mind was fireworks.

It was hardly a sign that she should be optimistic. Her mood plummeting by the second, Sakura dropped into the chair across from Syaoran's and forced herself to meet his eyes with an expression every bit casual and composed as the one she expected to find there. For once, he didn't disappoint her. Syaoran leaned back in his chair and chatted with the fellows on either side of him, eminently confident, supremely unconcerned.

"You are surely interested in our decision, and I won't keep you in suspense." At the head of the table, Fujitaka-san called the meeting back to order. "We have considered all aspects of the situation, and, I must say, you've left us with a pretty problem. On one hand, we have Kinomoto Corporations," he looked towards Sakura. "As distinguished and well respected as any company in all of Japan. One the other hand…" Fujitaka-san ran a hand through his pepper and salt hair, and sliver glitter rained down on the table.

"On the other hand, we have Li Industry, and thought I must admit, I was sceptical when you first contacted me, Li-san, you have proved yourself a very clever and resourceful young fellow indeed. So you see…" Fujitaka-san slid his gaze from Syaoran to Sakura. "You've given us a choice and left us with us with no choice, if you get my meaning."

Sakura was very much afraid she did. She clutched her hands together on her lap, bracing herself against the words she was sure were to come.

"We have decided…" Again, Fujitaka-san looked around, this time at the other members of the committee, as if giving them one last chance to change their mind. When no one spoke, he went one. "We have decided on a rather unorthodox solution to the problem," he said. "A kind of contest."

"Contest?" across the table, even Syaoran could not keep his surprise to himself. Curious, he leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, his jaw tensed. Sakura leaned forward too. "What kind of contest?" she asked Fujitaka-san.

"Why, a fireworks contest, of course!" Fujitaka-san smiled, and she knew it was his way of telling her he had voted for her through the meeting and had won this compromise against the wishes of the committee. "Six weeks. I trust in that time both your companies will be producing a number of fireworks shows." He didn't wait for either of them to answer. He knew it was true.

"There will be members of the committee in attendance at each of your productions. We'll be watching. Rating you performance. Seeing whose is the most spectacular. The most fitting for the occasion. And at the end of six weeks…" he rose, effectively putting an end to the meeting. "At the end of six weeks we will decide which company will be awarded the anniversary contract."

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Hope it was up to scratch. Thanks for reading :D

xx