Chapter 7: Uncharted Territory

Kei Nishikori was the best private investigator in town. You better believe it, because he has helped take down some of the biggest gambling gangsters and drug mobsters in Tokyo. His services aren't cheap. Syaoran usually didn't like to dip into his truth fund from his grandparents. With the exception of his house, he lived a pretty modest lifestyle. He bought it because when Fuutie died, he wanted a place further away from the city so he could effectively hide from the world. Pay his own way, even on a teacher's salary, is a pride thing for him, but he didn't give a shit. He was worth every penny, and he was going to help Syaoran come up with a bulletproof case against Hiro Matsuwa. Something that would throw him in prison for life without parole, preferably.

Kei had already started coming up with evidence.

Auto shop, yeah right. Hiro had been dealing everything from prescription meds to heroin for the last five years of his life. It was a full-time job, but he had recently found the time to expand and start dealing weapons, too. Nothing too big. Syaoran wasn't too sure where Hiro was getting them, but he sure hoped that he wasn't keeping them at his house. Sakura deserved better. A lot better.

That place was not safe.

Which brought him to why he decided to go for it in full force. For a second there, he had a little guilt trip over the fact that he was going to take away the only person in her life who actually cared. Only to realise that in the grand scheme of things, if the only person who loved you was being physically and mentally abusive to you and sold drugs and guns for a living, then you were better off without them.

Because this asshole was not going to do her any good. For one thing, he was already responsible for one death. He wouldn't be so lucky to get away with killing two of them. Not under Syaoran's watch, anyway.

Tonight, he dragged some random he met at a bar to his bed and fucked her senseless. It was a calculated move on his end, and he very rarely felt the urge to have sex with strangers. Sometimes you have so many things to take care of in your life that sex is just not worth the trouble and you'd rather rub one off instead of making the effort. But ever since the school year started and Sakura Kinomoto bulldozed into his life with her pouty lips, wide, green eyes, and long, brown hair, he needed an outlet. Today was the worst, because when her detention was over, she didn't want to leave. And neither did he.

After Chiharu left, it dawned on him that he could walk over to the door, lock it, amble in her direction, flatten her against the desk, and eat her until she screamed his name. And she would let him. And hell, she would love every single second of it, maybe more than he would. The thought was so real, so vivid, and most dangerously – so possible – he had to act fast. So he did. He slept with someone else.

Did it help? No.

Does he still think about her? Hell, yes.

He should stop.

This won't have a happily ever after.

But he couldn't.

He wouldn't.


The next day dragged. Mathematics was the kind of class that was very hit-and-miss. If you have a few intellectual students in class, it was the most fulfilling and exhilarating thing that could happen to you as a teacher – which is why he picked this subject over anything else. But if you were working with a bunch of idiots, you were kind of wondering why the hell you were so hell-bent on becoming a teacher in the first place. His undergraduate degree was in actuarial science. He was very good at what he did. He could make a good living out of it. A living that included a six-figure salary, sports car, and friends in high places. Instead, he made a conscious decision to teach others the art of math. Hopefully, by the time his job was done here, every student of his would be able to calculate anything they want without breaking a sweat.

Syaoran strode in the hallway at the end of the day toward his class, ready to grade some papers. It was going to be a long evening, but he had his can of Coke and his cigarettes for his break – shit, he smoked fulltime now, since he discovered Hiro was right under his nose – he couldn't even complain when Meiling asked him to buy her a pack.

He opened the door to his classroom, locked it for good measure – he hated to be interrupted when he read and graded papers – spun around, and saw Sakura Kinomoto sitting in the front row, her designated seat, looking at him straight in the eye.

"School is over," he growled, perhaps a little too aggressively, but they needed space between them. Fast. This was getting out of control. The last thing he needed right now was more Sakura time, but he guessed that was the least he could do seeing as he was about to take the only person who was there for her soon.

"I know." She shrugged, popping a fruity gum that sent shivers down his spine. She smelled damn good, and that was another problem with her sitting so close to him. "But I've decided to keep my detention time with you. You're here, anyway, so why do you care?"

"Because it's both inappropriate and pointless," he shot out, scrubbing his two-day stubble.

"I would have to disagree with both assessments, Mr. Li. There is nothing inappropriate with me doing my homework in your class while you're grading papers, and it actually does have a point, because as you're well aware, I have enough distractions at home. It's hardly a suitable environment to study in."

She did well in his class, and he knew exactly what she went home to. He'll give her that. And he was too tired to argue, anyway. At least here, he knew she was safe. From him, anyway.

Syaoran walked over to his desk and dumped the stack of papers. Her eyes were following him. He arranged his red and black pens, took out his laptop, then checked his phone for messages from his parents and Meiling. All throughout, she was still watching him. And he liked it. He shouldn't, but he did.

"Eyes on your work, Kinomoto."

She licked her bottom lip slowly and blinked once. He did the same, but hell if he met her gaze. Not going to give her that power over him. She was just a goddamn kid.

Only she didn't seem like a kid.

"I'm wet," she murmured. His eyes snapped up.

"What the hell did you just say to me?"

"I bet," she corrected, her smile casual, "that you're not as cranky after hours, Mr. Li."

"You won't find out either way," he mumbled, dropping into his seat.

"I already do. You gave me a ride, remember?"

Of course, he remembered. He wanted to walk right into her house and rip Hiro to shreds. To reach right into his chest and stop his heart from beating. But he said nothing. He should've kicked her out. The protocol would've advised him to do so, very strongly. Actually, he was already crossing boundaries just listening to her dirty little mouth telling him that she was aroused. He should be dragging her by the ear to the headmaster's office and slap her with detention for the rest of the year. But he didn't play into her game. She wanted to do just that. Wants more detention. More attention. Honestly, she should've and would've been expelled for the type of shit she was pulling if anyone else knew.

"Miss Kinomoto, I'd hate for you to kill your only chance of getting into a decent college without having to strip your way through, and for what? A crush? Cut the bullshit."

He stripped himself from niceties and hit her with the uncomfortable truth. Because that was the reality of things. Sakura Kinomoto was going to be stuck here forever if she didn't snap out of it, and she did have a crush on him. The fact that the feeling was mutual was beside the point.

She didn't submit under his stare, nor did she seem fazed. Any other student would've been in tears by now. He didn't take shit from anyone. And he has made more than one student cry when he crushed their little student-teacher fantasy. But this girl was not scared. She was programmed differently. He could see that.

"You wouldn't jeopardise my future." Her big, red smile widened, and she slacked against the back of her seat, drawing lazy cirlces with her peach fingernails over the flash of her cleavage.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"You like me too much."

"Miss Kinomoto, I barely tolerate you. If you think I'll give you special treatment…"

"You already do." She leaned forward and propped herself on her elbows, pressing her tits together, and fuck, he was hard as stone. This couldn't happen. He needed to stand up and open the door. But he couldn't risk her seeing him tenting like a schoolboy. He wasn't Yamasaki. He was a goddamn teacher. "You already do, Syaoran. You gave me a ride. And your phone number. And here you are, letting me stay with you after school. You're responsible for this thing just as much as I am. Maybe even more. Because I'm just reacting. You were a willing party in all this." She stopped stroking her flesh so she could circle the room with her finger. "And now there's no stopping it."

The days after were much the same.

Sakura Kinomoto came back every day for the detention she didn't have. They were already straddling the line of appropriate student-teacher relationships, and if they were to keep this up – whatever this was – they were going to jump so far over it that they wouldn't even remember what the line looked like. But still, he let her stay. He told himself it had nothing to do with the way she made his cock twitch from one look at those pouty lips and everything to do with the fact that he knew she was safer here than at home. But the truth was more complicated than that. Sakura Kinomoto wasn't safe with him. She wasn't even safe from herself. Sakura Kinomoto would never be safe until she went away. She knew it. He knew it. The clock was ticking.

Tick, tick, tick.

Day after day, she came to his class, until four thirty, under the pretense of doing her homework. Sometimes she read. Sometimes she listened to music with her earbuds. Somethings she bothered him with her incessant questions. But always tempting. Always pushing boundaries. Every single shift of her legs, lick of her lips, and twirl of her hair was so effortlessly seductive, so deeply ingrained in her that he wasn't sure if she was aware of what she was doing.

She was a temptress through and through, but the bad girl act, he suspected, was just that. An act. She was an innocent wrapped in a body made up of every sin he had ever wanted to omit. A good girl with bad intentions. Sakura wasn't thinking about the consequences of her actions. He was the adult – it was his job to do the responsible thing. So, that was what he precisely did. He provided a safe, calm environment after school, all while ignoring her brazen flirting and fighting the urge to accept what she was offering. To take her. To use her. To claim her.

This unspoken arrangement had worked out fine for them, if you don't count Syaoran's internal suffering. Until today. Today, when it was so hot that she gathered that long hair into a messy ponytail on top of her head. Today, when the ivory expanse of her neck was exposed and he could count the beauty marks sprinkled across it. Today, when he pen was crushed between her ample lips as she nibbled on the tip. Today, when her long legs bounced to the beat only she could hear. Today, when she stared at him, challenging, under thick lashes. It was as if she knew his senses seemed to be heightened and he was all too aware of her allure and his resolve could snap at any moment. Fuck today. She needed to leave.

"It's Friday, Miss Kinomoto. Don't you have anything better to do than hang out with your teacher?"

"I could ask you the same question," she taunted. "A guy like you can't be short on companions. And yet, here you are. With me. Why do you think that is?"

"Well, clearly, I'm a masochist," he said drly. Being around her was painful, but not in the way she msut've been thinking. She bit her lip and looked down at her desk in an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that he just offended her. It didn't make any sense that this girl, who was tougher than most grown men he knew, had her feelings hurt over a flippant remark.

Without even making a conscious effort to do so, he was at her desk in two long strides. He had seen Sakura Kinomoto take on many faces. Pissed off. Turned on. But this one was not one he wanted to be responsible for.

"Look at me,' he ordered softly.

Always the rebel, she kept her eyes pointed down. He lifted her chin with two fingers, and fuck if her sharp intake of breath and the sight of her pulse jumping in her neck didn't do something to him.

"You're always welcome here." And that was as close to a compliment he could give her, because he certainly couldn't tell her what was really going through his mind. She rolled her eyes in that self-depreciating way of hers, and he squatted down, now eye level with the source of his torment.

"I see you, Sakura. Beneath all that bravado is a girl who is wise beyond her years. Someone who is too damn smart and too damn beautiful for her own good." He didn't mean to say the last part aloud, and judging by the way her lips parted, letting free a small gasp, he didn't think she expected it either. Their eyes locked, both their minds working overtime trying to figure out how to navigate this uncharted territory.

Her phone rang from her desk, breaking their trance. He cleared his throat and walked back toward his stack of papers. She hesitated for only a second before answering.

"Hello?" A pause. "Jesus Christ, Hiro. I'm coming. I said I'll be right out," she snapped, exasperated. She swept her belongings into her backpack and headed toward the door.

She hesitated in the doorway before looking back at Syaoran from over her shoulder. She bit her bottom lip – again – and his eyes followed the movement.

"Thank you," she said softly. And then she was gone.


Syaoran had given up on fucking other women to get his mind off Sakura. And since he couldn't fuck her out of his system, he had resorted to the lesser of two evils. He was in his bed at ten p.m. on a Friday night fucking his fist to thoughts of his student. Pathetic. This was becoming a nightly ritual, and every night he hated her a little more for it. For making him want her. For making him question his morals, his humanity, his general taste in women. But most of all, he hated himself for liking it. On some level, he liked the game they were playing, even though he was the one who had everything to lose. She had no skin in the game.

He was imagining her straddling his lap as he sat behind his desk at school. He imagined her inching up her skirt before freeing him from his pants. He imagined her sliding her panties to the side and sinking down onto his cock. He tried to stay still. To not be an active participant – as if that absolved him of his crimes – while she used him to get off. But he wouldn't be able to stop his hips from thrusting upward. He wouldn't be able to stop his hands from smoothing up her thighs to grip her ass and guide her movements. And when he felt her clenching around him, he wouldn't be able to hold back from–

A violent buzzing from his nightstand interrupted his depravity right before he blew. He considered ignoring it and finishing what he started, but something told him to answer. It was a number he didn't recognise – even more reason for him to ignore it – but curiosity got the best of him, and he picked it up.

"Hello?" A sniffle. Muffled music and yelling in the background.

"Mr. Li?" Sakura? "I know it's late. I know I shouldn't call you, but I need you and–"

I need you. Those words coming from her mouth affected him more than they should.

"Tell me where you are," he said, cutting her off.

"I'm at my house. Hiro and his stupid friends–"

"'Did anyone touch you? Are you okay?" he practically growled.

"I'm fine," she whispered, avoiding the question. "I locked myself in the bathroom."

"Stay where you are. I'm coming."

"Okay." And the fact that she was being co-operative, compliant, told him that she was not fine at all.

Knowing what he knew about Hiro, he didn't take the time to do anything beside shove his cock back into his gym shorts and throw on some shoes before he was on the road.

In Tokyo, there was always traffic and always construction. But on a Friday night? He was fucked. It took him almost forty minutes to get to Sakura's house, and each passing minute felt like hours. A sense of déjà vu overwhelmed him, making him feel even more anxious. How many times had he done this very thing? Except, it wasn't a student who needed rescuing. It was his sister.

He scrolled through his call log – he never saved her number because he was trying to do the right thing – and shot out a quick text.

I'm almost there. Don't move until I come in to get you.

He tossed his phone into the passenger seat, looking for Sakura's street. He knew it was one of these streets. He swung a hard right and spotted her house immediately. It was hard to miss. Cars and motorcycles littered the driveway and the road. Music blared from inside. He was forced to park a few houses down. He almost left the engine running in his haste, but he knew they wouldn't have a way out of there when he got back if he did that.

He forced himself to appear calm, to walk and not run. He walked right past the people sitting in the yard drinking and threw the front door open. No one even noticed his entrance. He saw a hallway with four doors. He wasn't sure which one was the bathroom, but that was all there was to the house, so he knew she was close.

He tried one door, and it seemed to be her bedroom. There was a man draped over a girl, moving between her thighs, and Syaoran threw him off by the back of his shirt.

"What the fuck!" the guy yelled, adjusting his crotch. Syaoran looked back at the girl on the bed – not Sakura, thank fuck – and walked out without an explanation.

Door number two was locked, so he pounded on it. "Sakura? It's me! Let me in!" he yelled over the music. The doorknob twisted, and he slipped in and closed the door behind him.

"What's going on?" he asked as his mind tried to keep up with what his eyes were seeing. Sakura was on the floor with tear-stained cheeks and bloodstained thighs. Next to her were two towels with splotches of blood on them and little shards of glass were sprinkled around her.

"I'm fine," she said again. "I mean, I got nicked up, but I'm okay. What I saw…" she trailed off, her lower lip started to tremble.

"What?" he asked her. "What did you see?"

"Can you just get me out of here first? I'll tell you everything." Syaoran nodded and extended a hand to help her to her feet. Her palms looked like they had cuts, too, but he resisted the urge to question her until they were back in his car.

"Ready?" he asked instead. She nodded once and tucked her tiny hand inside his. He opened the door and kept her close to his side as they walked out. Just when they were metres from the front door, Hiro stood from the couch. It was then that Syaoran noticed the glass coffee table was shattered. There were beer cans and fast-food cups that had poured out onto the carpet and dollar bills coated in white substance.

"What the fuck are you doing with my girl? In my house?!" Hiro yelled, working his jaw back and forth. He was shirtless and sweating profusely, which on its own didn't mean much but the fact that he can't keep still, bouncing from foot to foot along with the dilated pupils were a dead giveaway. Syaoran knew the signs better than anyone. He was definitely using. "You're not fucking him, right, Kura? Isn't that what you said? Little lying ass bitch," he spat.

"She's coming with me," Syaoran informed him through clenched teeth. He was trying to stay calm, but firm, because he knew from experience how volatile and irrational this shit could make people.

"Fuck this!" Hiro roared, crunching over glass and trash to get to them. Syaoran tucked Sakura behind his back.

"One more fucking step, and not only will I beat the living shit out of you, but I'll call the police and let them know about your little extracurricular activities." His voice was menacingly low. He should've already called the goddamn cops. He won't – not yet. But he didn't need to know that. Syaoran was going to get his revenge. He was going to get justice. Just a little bit longer…

Syaoran saw the hesitation in Hiro's eyes. He was wondering if Syaoran was bluffing.

"Just let me go, Hiro. Don't do this to Dad," Sakura said as she came to stand between them.

Hiro threw his hands up in the air and spun toward the small crowd of people watching them, ignoring her altogether.

"You hear that, guys?" He laughed. "He's gonna call the fuckin' pigs!" He turned back to Syaoran. "Didn't you know? I. OWN. THIS. TOWN."

Such a bunch of bullshit, but he was so fucking strung out, he probably believed it.

Sakura tugged on Syaoran's arm, pulling him toward the door. He kept one eye on Hiro, letting her lead him outside. He opened the passenger door to let her in, and when he was walking to his side, he looked up to see Hiro standing in his doorway, arms braced on the frame. "And I own her, too, motherfucker!" he yelled and chucked a beer bottle at his car. He missed and that pissed him off even more. He turned to go back inside, throwing some girl off him when she tried to hang on him and ask if he was okay, then slammed the door.

"You need to get out of there," Syaoran pointed out dryly, reaching across the console to buckle her up. She was out of it. Completely. He didn't like this new Sakura. He liked the one who looked at him like he was her next meal, even though it was bullshit they both didn't believe it. The Sakura from school could deal with what he was about to throw her way when he locked her brother away. This one? No way in hell.

She was still in her uniform with her knees pulling to her chest, tear tracks dried to her flushed cheeks. And maybe it made him a sick bastard for thinking so, but she had never looked more beautiful than in this moment. She was vulnerable and bleeding, but still she had fire in her eyes.

"Why do you think I called you?" she snapped.

"I mean for good. You need to leave for good."


s1983079

Thanks for reading. I have more written but it would be better in a separate chapter. You don't mind me posting a lot in a short time, right? The reviews are great and I encourage you to leave them on any story you read since they're the only feedback that writers get back for posting their stories. More often than not, it will make their entire week.

Ap423 - Thank you for the review. I think a lot of people are too shy to leave reviews on stories like these but there really is no need since there is the anonymous option. I'm glad you're liking it and thank you for taking the time to review, it means a lot.

anime1angel - I'm glad you're liking it.

Guest - There is a lot of tension built up but it will come crashing down next chapter which I've written so get ready - I will post it tomorrow.

Monstar xo - Yeah, Syaoran is starting to see the problems with his revenge plan now but I think he's thinking of the greater good that the outcome would bring.