Chapter Ten

How One Makes Conversation

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

A simple routine had developed between Sakura and Syaoran. Similar to the first day, she would show up to his apartment, he would let her in and tell her to make herself at home, then he would retreat into his office to do what must be a truckload of work because he stayed there most of the day. Throughout the hours she was there, he would peek in on her, there would be some brief exchanging of words she tentatively defined as conversation, and then when it was nearing eight o'clock he would tell her she could leave.

The little snatches of time they spent together however, had gotten her used to his presence. Though, she would wonder every now and again if he was still peeved with what had happened - or not happened - the first time she came over. Sometimes he would be so focused on her she could not stop fidgeting with herself, but other times, he acted like she was not there as he walked by.

Truthfully, she was beginning to feel guilty about getting paid to basically do nothing but watch television. Yet, Syaoran did not act like he was missing out on anything and he did not mention them doing anything together. Maybe she should be grateful for the easy money and surprisingly easier client?

She checked the time on the ornate clock hanging from one of the living room walls. If she was correct, he would be looking in on her very soon. He had almost predictable 45-minutes intervals in which he did that. Yet today, two hours passed without any sign of him. Sakura went into the kitchen and strained her ears to hear the faintest sound from his home office. Nothing. Did he fall and bump his head? Was he sleeping? Buried in work? Should she go check in on him?

Since it was always better to be safe than sorry she lightly padded down the hallway to his office. When she got to the door, she put her ear against it and almost immediately heard a chair screech as it was sharply pushed back. Was he getting up? She heard footsteps drawing near and paled. Hoe! He was not just getting up, he was coming out! She turned on her toes and sprinted on them all the way back to the living room. She plopped down on the couch, breathing hard through her nostrils, just as Syaoran nonchalantly walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door.

He leaned back against the kitchen island and glared at the appliance as he drank from a bottle of water. Should she ask him what was on his mind? Would he answer? Would he think she was being nosy?

Syaoran spotted her from across the room and her gaze popped to the television screen. He started in her direction. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up like antennas as they picked up the Li Syaoran network in the Highest Definition known to man and broadcast it to every cell of her body.

So much for getting used to his presence.

"What do you find so interesting about this channel?" asked Syaoran, looking at what was on - Best Red Carpet Looks. "You watch it everyday."

"I don't know," answered Sakura, not quite sure how to explain her fascination with it.

He shook his head and took a seat on one of the armchairs adjacent to her.

"There's a lot of fashion stuff," she told him. "And you get insider details about your favourite celebrities. And when there are new music videos and things like that, they are all right here in one place." She placed a finger on her chin, thinking. "And some celebrities have reality shows and I like those as well because it kind of shows you who they are as persons."

Syaoran looked like he was on the brink of a yawn.

"So you spend hours of your life watching others live theirs?"

"Well, they do things I'll never do," said Sakura. "And they go places I'll never go. And I guess it's exciting to watch all of that and kind of be part of it with them especially when you're a fan. But what I really like to watch are the countdowns. I like guessing who would be on the list and in what order. Oh and there's also the entertainment news…"

"Do you watch real news?" asked Syaoran.

Sakura twisted in her seat and he shook his head again. He settled himself better on the armchair, his body spreading out over it, filling the seat completely. How long did it take him to master that accidentally cool-slash-sexy pose? He could definitely appear on one of the covers of those paperback romance novels you bought in the supermarket. Shirt off, pants low on the hips, head thrown back while his eyes watched you with devilish desire. Yes. She could see it.

"To me this is all useless information," he said, gesturing to the television. "I don't understand your inclination towards it."

"Neither does my brother."

"You have a brother?" he asked, going perfectly still. Sakura smiled, seeing him on guard and hearing it in his voice, even though it was only a little. "Younger or older?"

"Older," she informed him. "He's unbearably overprotective and lives to tease me and call me a monster. Which I'm not! I mean, it's partly his fault I grew up as a tomboy. But I think I've improved a lot. Our mother was very beautiful and refined and lady-like. It's been a sort of goal of mine to be like her."

"You said your mother was?"

"She died when I was three."

Syaoran glanced at the television, nodding.

"Does your brother know about your job? I find it difficult to believe he would like it considering he's overprotective."

Sakura gave a mental sigh. Why did he always have to bring up what she was doing for her job like it was the most terrible profession? Especially when he was using her services?

"He doesn't know. And you're right, he wouldn't like it. I never even had a proper boyfriend thanks to him. He always showed up wherever I was and scared all the guys away."

Syaoran smirked.

"It's not funny!" Sakura tried to frown but a giggle forced its way past her lips. "It was horrible. If he knew I was going on dates," she shuddered, "I don't even want to think about it. He was really against me coming to Tokyo on my own but Otou-san gave me permission and onii-chan respects him too much to argue.

"Where are you from?"

"A small town outside the city."

Syaoran looked her in the eyes, but she redirected her gaze back to the television before he could pry any information out of her. She still remembered how upset he had gotten when she did not tell him her name. But today was different. Today he did not get an attitude. He simply turned his attention to the countdown and watched it with her.

Every now and then, he would shift around in his chair like it was uncomfortable. When he cracked his neck by twisting his head with his hands, she grimaced, sure that it was going to come clean off. It was only when he yawned did she truly feel the compulsion to break the quietness between them and ask, "Do you want to watch something else?"

"No," he said, gaze fixed to the television. "You want to see who shows up on the list. Wasn't that what you said?"

"I don't have to..."

"Relax. I don't mind watching."

Sakura nodded but it was not long before she was feeling the need to be a good courtesan and be fully invested in making sure he was having a good time.

"Is your work going well, Li-san?"

He looked at her as a commercial came on.

"Why do you ask?"

"You're always busy, so I guess I'm asking to see if what you're doing is going the way you want. If you're making any progress. You looked a little annoyed earlier." When he did not respond, she added, "Despite what you think, I'm not bored by business. I just don't know about it. Most of it might go over my head but I won't mind hearing about your work. I like learning about what other people do for a living."

Syaoran's eyes narrowed in contemplation for so long, she had given up on him saying another word. But miraculously, he parted his lips and asked, "Do you know Yano Corporation?"

"I see the building from time to time as I travel," she said. "But I'm not exactly sure what they do there."

"They specialise in product engineering software. Some of what they do can be used in the design of motor vehicles and such. I won't go into the tech with you. All you need to know is that what they do, they do it well. Quite impressive, actually. I tried to buy them out but they refused my offer."

"So can't you negotiate with them?" asked Sakura.

Syaoran went stone-faced.

"Courtesan, if you're worth twelve hundred dollars an hour but you want to make me pay twelve million, no, we cannot negotiate."

"So they want too much?"

"Too much is an understatement," said Syaoran. "These... brainiacs, they act as though I snap my fingers and billions materialize. They don't realise what it takes to come up with even one billion dollars. It's a lot of money. So when they counter and ask for ridiculous valuations, I find it highly absurd and disrespectful. Especially when I did my due diligence and know for a fact that they're only worth so much."

That dark tornado swirling in his eyes... it was a wonder Yano Corporation was still standing.

"So what are you going to do?" asked Sakura.

"In the simplest terms, I'm trying to get the senior executives replaced with more reasonable ones. I need a certain number of shareholders on my side for that to happen."

"That's a takeover," said Sakura, excitedly, happy to not feel clueless. "I know about those. My brother did a project on different kinds of takeovers once and I listened to him when he practiced his speech for class. But people lose their jobs when things like that happen. You're not going to fire everyone right?"

"Not if their performances are up to standards," said Syaoran, and he squeezed his left shoulder and pressed his thumb into it in consistent circles. "That's far in the future though. What I need to focus on is buying Yano. Soon."

"It sounds urgent."

"It is. I have several other things demanding my attention as well. I have to do as much as I can now. I'm going to be losing weeks of my time come October."

"Why October?"

After a very tense breath of silence, he said, "I have an important event that month."

"A business event?"

Syaoran looked like his typical self but there was a strong, invisible wall materializing between him and her and she could feel its presence as acutely as she felt the couch beneath her.

"Okay," she said, moving on. "Well I know you may think I'm being insincere but I think it's really amazing that you're able to lead and take charge the way you do. I can hardly deal with public speaking. I can't imagine how scary it is to negotiate deals or strategize to buy corporations."

"I was groomed for it," he said, each word pronounced in an unhurried, vigilant manner. "To me, it's all very normal."

"Even so, you're very brave. Sometimes I feel like I don't know a lot and in some ways I'm a real coward because of that."

"You should see the world," said Syaoran, like she had endless resources to do that with. "Experience and learn all that you can. Ignorance breeds fear. Make a conscious decision to counter that."

"That's why I'm in Tokyo. That's what I wanted. Satomi-san said being a courtesan would give me lots of experiences. I don't think I've changed much on the inside though."

Syaoran awkwardly squeezed his shoulder again and winced.

"Um… would you like me to do that for you?" asked Sakura.

He froze, eyes questioning. She held her hands up and wiggled her fingers.

"At the agency they teach us some basic massages," she said to him. "And even before that, I've always been good."

Slowly, like he was already regretting his decision, he nodded. Sakura got up and walked to the back of his armchair, determined to show him that she really was a good masseuse. He craned his neck to glimpse her and she detected some hesitancy in the way his shoulders tensed up.

"Have you ever been to the spa?" she asked, looking down at his thick head of hair. It was different from looking down at Yamada Shoji's longer, black one. Syaoran had broader shoulders, too.

"Spas are for women," he told her.

She smiled. That was something her brother would say.

"It's for everyone," she said, resting her hands lightly on his shoulders, his cotton t-shirt like butter beneath her palms. "Especially for men who have stressful jobs and need to unwind."

"Wrong. That's what bars are for."

Her smile widened and she sank her fingers into his shoulders a few times before asking, "Is this enough pressure? Li-san?"

Seconds passed before he answered.

"No."

She applied more and he exhaled heavily.

"Better."

Bit by bit, Syaoran loosened up under her hands. She felt his lean, knotted muscles unraveling with her touch. Felt them flex as he moved. Felt his deep breaths as he breathed. After having seen him keep women at bay, he was actually letting her get close. There was a small sense of victory in Sakura though it was felt strange to be proud over such a thing. Syaoran sank forward, calm and languid. She peeped over him and saw that his eyes were shut.

A giddy sensation washed over her and completely forgetting the television show, she focused on kneading the muscles in his shoulders and neck, paying attention to every involuntary, sharp intake of breath he made so she could get her technique just right for him. A temptation to slide her hands down his chest invaded her but Sakura kept her hands where they were. Her control did not extend to her mind however, which kept picturing him without his t-shirt on.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, thinking about what could possibly happen between them. Maybe she was going about their relationship the wrong way. He was young. They both knew the rules. She could use this time with him to catch up to all the things she never experienced at school or anywhere her watchful brother was likely to show up. Frankly, it was embarrassing how old she was and how little she had done in certain areas of her life. And it was not like anything she and Syaoran did was going to cross a line anyway. He was easy on the eyes, he always smelled clean, he was polite now - what more could she ask for? They probably would not see each other again after these two weeks.

She paused her ministrations on his shoulders and rotated her aching wrists.

"You're stopping?" asked Syaoran, looking round at her.

"I'm not a professional," she apologized. "My hands are sore. Especially my thumbs. I'll start again soon."

He reached over the back of the chair and took her by the wrist.

"What?" she asked, face warming instantly from the skin to skin contact.

She had dreamed a similar touch just last night. A nameless, faceless touch, and she had woken up sweaty and yearning, not to mention unsettled. What was worse was that the first thing, idea, person that popped into her mind was Li Syaoran. It had taken her two hours to fall back asleep as she tried to make sense of it all. Usually she was annoyed whenever her dreams dwindled into nothingness but she had been glad that this one had faded to the point where she wondered if she ever really had it.

Was it natural to be so attracted to someone? So much so, your mind created things it should not? With Yukito her captivation had been so childlike and pure but with Syaoran, it was carnal and entirely unchaste. But could she blame herself for that? Could she even blame him?

He guided her around the chair to face him.

"Sit," he told her.

Sakura's mouth fell open.

"On your lap?" she asked, eyes glued to his crotch.

Syaoran glanced at the coffee table behind her legs. It only took a second for her to wish she could go back in time and clamp a hand over her big mouth.

"I didn't think," she said, backing up closer to the table.

Syaoran released her and she lowered herself lightly onto the glass.

Wordlessly, he took her right hand in his and she stared, mesmerized, as he massaged the back of her wrist with his thumbs before turning her hand over to massage her palm. He went slow and steady, paying as much attention to her as she had been paying to him and that made her have to wrestle down a huge grin from spreading across her face.

Now and again, their eyes would meet and her breath would catch every single time. It was unbelievable that someone who could render her motionless could make her heart beat so fast she thought it would fly out of her chest.

"Where did you learn to do this?" she murmured, as one by one he pulled down on the fingers of her left hand.

"I practice kung fu," he told her. "My hands can take a good beating at times. Massaging them helps the aches."

"You massage them yourself?"

"No. Wei does it."

"Who's that?"

"The friend I bought the watch for."

"Oh. I see. And how long have you been practicing?" she asked.

Syaoran's eyebrows furrowed.

"Since I was five."

"So young?! Weren't your parents afraid you would get hurt?"

"Not so much," said Syaoran. "I had a bad temper. Wei taught me kung fu because he believed it would help with my tantrums. Father approved. Mother went along. Beginning young is not unheard of. It's better that way."

"So did it help?"

"I became more disciplined. I no longer shout and break things. It's been over a decade since I last lashed out. Yes. I think it-" He paused his stroking of her little finger and looked deeply into her eyes, his own full of meaning. "I don't hit girls, courtesan."

"I never said you did," said Sakura, fighting the urge to squirm.

"You were thinking it."

"Nooo."

"Don't bother lying. Your face shows everything."

He started making sweeping strokes up and down her forearm before he switched and did the same thing to the other. She realised far too late to prepare herself, but that signalled the end of the massage. When Syaoran finished, he took both her hands in his and kept them cradled there like they were porcelain ornaments.

"Thank you," she said.

At any moment, she knew, he would drop her hands and head back to his office. But she did not want him to let go of her. His hands were slightly rough but strong and warm, and the way they felt holding hers, oddly enough, was reassuring. It was as if his own strength was pouring into her and she felt bolder already.

"I've been meaning to tell you that you have a beautiful apartment," she said, cutting the silence to hear his voice.

Syaoran, looking intently at her hands, said, "How could you know? You hardly ever move from this living room."

"That's because I don't want to break anything. I can be clumsy."

"What's the worse that could happen if you do break something?"

"I could end up owing you millions," she said. "And since I don't have that kind of money, I'd probably end up in jail or something."

Syaoran looked at her like she was daft.

"You think I'd send you to jail for a broken vase?"

"I'm not sure. Honestly, I'm kind of intimidated by you," she confessed. Then she added jokingly, "Even though I'm your elder."

"Elder?"

"We're the same age," she explained. "But your birthday is July thirteenth and mine is April first. I'm like three months older than you."

He breathed out wearily and leaned back in his chair, taking his hands with him. Sakura's fingers curled into each other to mourn their loss.

"You've been researching me."

Sakura's chest tightened at the abrupt accusation.

"No, I-"

"What did you find?" snapped Syaoran.

Sakura stared at him with a sense of uneasiness and dread. It had all been going wonderfully. Why did she have to always talk so much?

"I didn't research you," she tried to clarify. "I typed your name into a web browser and I read whatever came up."

Syaoran got a 'what's the difference?' expression on his face.

"What did you find?" he repeated.

"I read up on the types of companies you own," she said. "Just so I can understand if you mention something about one of them."

He folded his arms.

"What else?"

She gulped.

"You have charities."

"And?"

She spoke quietly this time.

"Your father died in a car crash when you were nine."

The muscles at the corners of his jaw pulsed.

"And?"

"Li-san-"

"And?"

"What do you want me to say?" she asked, her stressed heart thumping hard.

"That you didn't look me up to see my charities or businesses, courtesan," said Syaoran. "You looked me up to see how much money I have."

She glanced away. She had been curious. Anyone would be.

"Tell me," he said. "How much am I worth?"

"A lot," she replied.

"You want me to believe you didn't get a number?"

"I did," said Sakura, who did not want to lie. She sighed. "It's not a big deal that I looked."

"Would you like me to see how much money is in your bank account?"

She cringed.

"No."

"That's why you offered to give me a massage," he told her, rather than asked. "I found it unexpected. I must look more appealing now especially compared to your millionaire friends."

"That's not true."

"Really."

Sakura could not tell the exact thoughts Syaoran had in his head but whatever they were, they were harsh and stinging her like a horde of incensed wasps.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked. "I mean, anyone could search for you online. If it makes you feel better I don't know how much money you have. Different sites say different things. And it wouldn't matter if I knew anyway because I'm not some girl out to get you for your money. I'm a courtesan. I know my place. Besides, you can say goodbye forever unless you want to see me again, remember?"

"Certain things should be kept private," he said, after a moment had passed. "Certain things should not be posted for the world to see. I am not a celebrity. Nor have I ever desired to be one."

Sakura got the feeling he was not really speaking to her but she said, "I get that. And you're right. The media can be too invasive."

He stood abruptly and she tilted her head up to look at him, thinking she might deserve a little of what he was going to say.

"Look, I-"

He stopped and glanced away from her, as he sorted out something in his head. It was taking an awful long time and Sakura could not wait. She needed to keep the peace.

"Li-san. I'm sor-"

"I'm not angry with you," he told her, his eyes holding hers fast. "Only with what you did. You were correct to say anyone can do it but I have detested the blatant invasion of my privacy almost all my life. So I do what I can to limit that encroachment. I prefer you don't look me up again. If you have a question, ask. Let me decide to answer it or not."

"Okay. I understand. And Li-san," she said, before he could walk away. "I really did read up on your businesses. If you ever want to talk about work again or you want another massage, you know where to find me."

She hesitated and he caught it.

"Something else?" he asked, almost robotically.

"Ano..."

Sakura rose to her feet, saw they were too close and tried to quickly step back. Her calves hit the table and she tipped backwards. She gasped loudly, and shut her eyes tight, preparing for the impact of her back on glass. But as fast as she had started falling backwards, she changed direction and her front hit something solid. She clutched what was in front of her and felt a familiar material.

"Careful," came Syaoran's steady voice.

That was when she noticed the arm snug around her waist. She peeked up at him, a deep blush burning through her cheeks. She loosened her grip on his t-shirt and would have stepped back if he had not been holding her so securely. Like she was important to him. Like she was everything. She shook her head of silly thoughts.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Hai."

Still, he did not let go and she did not try to get him to. Why would she? He felt like a sunny Sunday morning and she could curl up in a cozy bed and sip on hot chocolate all day, bathing in his rays. When his hand glided down to her lower back, fingertips poised at the gentle rise of her butt, her knees trembled.

Syaoran edged back slightly and her head cleared.

"What was so urgent to say, you almost injured yourself?" he asked.

"I - well b-before I was going to say, um, well, I've been meaning to tell you," she tried to say, "that if you want to do anything on the package… um, anytime you're ready, you can."

Sakura saw a hundred questions flash across his face but he asked one.

"Did Matsushita tell you something?"

She shook her head.

"But you don't want to do those things," he reminded her.

"I've been thinking about how I acted before," she said. "I should have been more professional about it all. And, you were kind of right about Matsushita and the way I see it, I may have other dates like this one someday so I might as well get used to it now. With you."

"Because at least I'm not old enough to be your grandfather?" he asked.

A long pause swelled between them. Syaoran dropped his arm from around her and took a few steps in the direction of the kitchen. He ran a hand through his hair. He faced her, his eyes looking her over and excitedly, Sakura saw some positive appraisal there. She clasped her hands in front of her and smiled softly, trying to look as cute as was humanly possible.

"You shouldn't be-"

Syaoran averted his gaze and nodded to himself before attempting to speak to her again.

"Listen, I may have been hasty selecting this Indulgence package," he said to her. "It was offered and in a rare moment of poor judgement on my part, I took it. But it's not necessary for me nor is it something I really want. Let's continue to talk like we did today and finish off our arrangement. Nothing more. I don't want anything more."

Sakura swallowed, her self-esteem taking a dive off a cliff.

"Okay!" she said, voice high-pitched and a cheery grin plastered on her face. "No problem!"

"Good," said Syaoran and he strode off to his office.

Sakura glanced around waiting for an imaginary audience to start laughing raucously. Met with only the sound of the television, she sat primly on the couch, embarrassment choking her lungs.

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! What are you waiting for? Next chapter's waiting! Surprise! ^_^