Sakura busied herself over the month, spending most of her time in Brazil, doing a swimsuit shoot for some magazine or another. It was supposed to be her vacation time, but she felt she needed to keep busy, because whenever she had a spare moment, she was still seething over the behavior of the mysterious photographer. Even her publicist and best friend, Tomoyo, was casually sympathetic at Sakura's annoyance. At the moment, Sakura was lounging in her bathing suit on the sand, drinking a pineapple drink and applying herself to physics.
"The velocity of the car would be 30 m/s squared because v equals …" Sakura struggled with her basic knowledge of physics for the answer.
"Distance divided by time," Tomoyo recited off-handedly.
"Oh Tomoyo, I can remember the equations, but I just keep on thinking about Syaoran Li. I can't forget the way he spoke to me. '…Lack of intellect…!" Why can't I stop thinking about this?"
"Well, Sakura, you do know that he is known as the hottest guy in front and behind camera. He is a genius with models – don't you remember the spring catalogue for Victoria's Secret when they did they whole angel thing? Well, let's just say the models didn't think that one up."
Sakura thought for a moment. I mean, it is true. He is an astute photographer. I have seen much of his work in all the best fashion magazines. However, that still doesn't give him the right to be rude.
"I suppose you are right, Tomoyo, but I have never met the man, and I refuse to make any more opinions based on this information! I have spoken to him; he was rude, and that is all that counts!" She ended with a hmph just to make her point. Tomoyo could only sigh.
"All right, but I bet you will change your mind once you meet him. Just remember he has tamed wilder girls than you." And she left Sakura to mull over that comment. He will take her, I'm quite sure. Tomoyo enjoyed her thoughts, and started planning in earnest for the coming photo shoot.
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Meanwhile, things with Syaoran Li were just as heated. Seasoned model and ex-girlfriend Meilin had him in a compromising situation. He was backed against the wall, mauled by her kisses and hands. Somehow, she had gotten the notion to get him back, and this was her solution. Not that Syaoran wasn't enjoying it…any guy wouldn't mind being mauled by a beautiful model, but the proverbial statement read, "find a beautiful girl, and I'll find you a guy who is tired of being with her." He wanted to be on to bigger and better things. He was a man on a mission, or he liked to think of himself that way. And this man had no room for Meilin. No room for any woman, really. He in fact never imagined himself married. But he knew that was a lie. He wanted children; he wanted a partner in life. He wanted to be loved, and to be able to love back, body and soul. But he hadn't found her yet.
So he slowly, but surely, denied Meilin and went home. He lived in a stylish condo, near his studio, where he could just hop on a bike, or even walk when traffic was too much. Lying down on his bed, his mind full of everything, there was only one thought that he kept coming back to. It was a flowing and pure voice that sounded as clear as crystal icicles in a snow-bound cave. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, remembering her words, imagining her lips forming the sounds… "Who may you be…?"