Extended Visit Only For You: Chapter Two
"Sir?" the beautiful cherry blossom prompted the man before her who was still staring at her rather analytically, as though he was deciphering some foreign code found on her immaculate visage. He seemed to shake himself free of that though as her voice reached his ears and, gathering himself in an abrupt hurry, he nodded briefly to her in the first acknowledgement he had shown.
"Thank you for your hospitality," he paused, waiting for her to supply a name.
"Kinomoto, Sakura Kinomoto," she bowed slightly in formal Japanese custom and he suavely reciprocated.
"Now, Kinomoto-san, where should I and my colleagues go? Will you be directing us?" Syaoran asked, careful to conceal the muted hope he didn't even fully recognize himself yet.
"No, but Tsukishiro will do that for me," she smiled benignly at him, no longer lost in his depthless amber eyes, which she noted could be listed under the heading of dangerous weapons...one could drown in those forever, she contemplated absently and then blushed. This was not like her, no. She did not like complete strangers and most certainly she did not like this particular complete stranger.
After all, they hardly knew each other!
Her subconscious laughed at her unabashedly.
Correction, it smirked at her internally; you don't know each other at all.
"Tsukishiro-san I presume," Syaoran nodded to Yue who in turn did the same and wordlessly stepped forward to unburden him and his 'colleagues' of their baggage. Sakura stifled a giggle as she watched Yue lead the congregation of high class and fashion towards the elevators; he certainly did not look happy at all.
Then a voice startled her out of her thinking.
"Sakura-chan, how could you do that to poor defenseless Yue?" a charmingly lovely voice suppressed her own laughter as Sakura turned and lit up at the sight of the one and only Daidouji Tomoyo.
"Tomoyo-chan! I can't believe you're here; I thought you and your mother would be gone for at least another week," Sakura smiled as she embraced the raven-haired beauty in a warm hug.
"I know, but she let me come back early. Besides, I need my beautiful Sakura-chan to help me model my new line of designs," Tomoyo's composed and mature face dissolved into one of a pleading and beseeching child in the space of two point six seconds. And as usual, though Sakura put up a valiant protest, one of her best in years in fact, she surrendered to them. There was something about Tomoyo that just couldn't be denied.
Tomoyo's puppy-dog eyes, as she called them, were also under the listing of dangerous weapons. The classic beauty could get anyone to do anything for her with them; it was almost scary. Except it was Tomoyo, which essentially for most people, took a great deal of the fear factor away. Sakura was exempt of course because she, unlike untold dozens of men who approached Tomoyo, knew the imminent mischief that lay behind those indigo-blue eyes and she was wary.
But, her being only Kinomoto Sakura and she being The Daidouji Tomoyo, well as things usually turned out, Sakura tended to give in to the latter more often than not.
Fortunately, as they were the very best of friends, she didn't really seem to mind.
"So, what illumination of your genius will you be forcing this unworthy personage to wear this time?" Sakura laughed.
"More like what 'illuminations' my dear," Tomoyo grinned and Sakura had to repress the urge to groan. Of course, she should have known it was not singular when it came to her designs; whenever she came out with a line she meant it. It was a line of clothes, all brilliantly designed and made, most of which she would likely be donning in Tomoyo's next publicity stunt, also known as a fashion show.
"Whatever you say Tomoyo-chan," Sakura replied pleasantly before asking in a suddenly shrewd manner, "So who's the big kicker at this upcoming show? A movie star, a director, a pop idol?" It was no surprise that at every Daidouji fashion show, something or someone famous made a glitzy and publicly unexpected entrance. Of course, this was all a carefully laid out plan by Tomoyo herself who knew that by giving surprise celebrities free tickets to her exclusive shows, the excessive press was unprecedented. It was a good tactic, and Tomoyo knew it.
"Hm, well you could say he's a bit of an actor and a writer," Tomoyo replied and continued, "I haven't actually met him myself before and don't have his name off the top of my head, but I hear he's a little full of himself."
"Gossip, gossip, that's all probably. Most people are very down to earth once you crack their outer shell; look at Yue," Sakura grinned as said person was approaching them with an empty baggage cart, obviously done with his precious excursion.
"What about me you little schemer?" he grumbled.
"Schemer? Me? Why Yue I am shocked. You know very well I never make you do anything you don't want to," Sakura smiled sweetly to an unaffected Yue; one had to build up some kind of resistance to Sakura's ever cheerful water off a duck's back mannerisms after befriending her for so long. Or so one would hope, especially Yue.
"Of course not, you only make it sound like I want to do it when you know I don't until I am so confused by your constant barrage that I absolutely have to do what you insist is for the best," Yue summed up matter-of- factly.
"And isn't it always?" Sakura retorted, almost blandly but with a hint of amusement in her sparkling emerald eyes.
"Right," was all Yue would reply with and Tomoyo stifled a giggle. Yue scowled at her. Apparently not stifled enough.
"Kinomoto!" a young man, older than her perhaps though by five years approached the threesome, black hair falling into his vivid blue eyes that, as they were, already shielded in elegant silver frames.
"Yes Hiiragizawa-san?" she smiled.
"Don't forget, you're to play in the mid-level soon, like always," he reminded her in a familiar manner that suggested the two were more than superior and worker. And they were. They were also friends.
"I know, I know. I do this every night Hiiragizawa-san. Give me some credit," she sounded sulky but it was purposeful and drew forth the desired outcome. Hiiragizawa Eriol's face frowned slightly and he absently pushed the center of his glasses up the bridge of his nose; they were forever sliding down.
"Forgive me Kinomoto-san. I just thought to remind you so you might not forget in your meeting with Daidouji-san here," he said and Sakura's sulky tone left her as she shrugged good-naturedly.
"I was kidding you know. Don't be so serious. I think you need a vacation Mr. President," she joked. Well he was the President, of the Hikari Hotel chain anyway.
"Yes, yes," Hiiragizawa nodded apologetically before running off to attack some poor busboy about his lack of coordination.
"Eriol's gotten rather...busy hasn't he?" Tomoyo asked pensively. Sakura's sharp green eyes flashed with the observation of something that might come to pass but she hid it well and pasted over it a blank and genki [cheerful] expression.
"Maybe, but deep down he's just the same old trouble maker. I'm positive it was him who dumped those five pitchers of ice cold water down the laundry shoots last week," Sakura shook her head and turned slightly away from the two, Yue smirking at her humor and Tomoyo grinning.
"Where you going?" Yue asked absently.
"You know, you know," Sakura groaned and added, "The mid-level, remember?" Yue hit himself, mentally of course and nodded. The word 'duh' came to mind but Yue would never bring himself down to that level of vocabulary as far as vocalization. Not if he could avoid it anyway.
"Bye then Sakura-chan, I'll be seeing you soon," Tomoyo winked and waved to Yue as well, "See you late Yue. Take care of our little cherry blossom!" And the infamous designer and business woman was out the automatic doors in a flash, off to her next order of business no doubt.
Sakura bid Yue a good-bye as well and set out for her quarters. Before playing she had to get into uniform, or dress-code. It was a different one from her concierge attire. Slipping the card-key out of her back pocket, Sakura approached a door at the end of a hallway, located of course, on the first floor. The light flashed green and she was in.
It was small, like any worker's room in a hotel. But it was home for now and Sakura's magic touch seemed to make it appear bigger than it really was. Sighing, she ran her tapered fingers through her hair, short as it was now, she still had a habit of doing so. Some said it made her look to childish, but after elementary school she had grown it out long and decided when she graduated high school, she missed her short hair. Her mother Nadeshiko, had had long, wavy gorgeous hair but somehow, Sakura knew that the way her hair was now, well, it suited her.
Framing her eyes, the bangs created a softening effect that served to make her seem attractive in her own way. She wasn't the normal, sexy, super- model type, but she was Sakura and that in itself was an attribute to her beauty. Unbuttoning the collared white shirt, she exchanged it and her black slacks for a pale green gown, floor-length, soft and elegant.
Every night at the hotel there was a formal dinner, so any of the people involved in the night's festivities, staff included, had to follow the fancy dress code. It wasn't revealing but it had an easy sloping neckline, sleeveless and made of a silky material that was a compliment to her fair skin and added extenuation of her green eyes. Around her neck she clasped a plain silver necklace with a teardrop pendant, a petite diamond, a present from Tomoyo a few years back. Then she stepped back to examine her handiwork.
Well, she was no Tomoyo but then again, who was?
She still looked good and anyone who said differently would be branded and sold a dead-straight liar for saying so. She looked very, very good. Of course, Sakura only saw that she was wearing the proper clothes for the calling, not that she was pretty or beautiful because that wasn't how Sakura saw things, especially not herself. So, satisfied, she stepped out of her room, a slightly silver purse on her arm and she made her way to the mid-level, oblivious to the appreciative stares numerous men gave her and the numerous lady-friends of those same men who proceeded to glare at her and yell at their boyfriends or husbands for being so uncouth.
No she was just focused on one thing now.
Sakura sat the bag down below the large black instrument and opened the cover delicately, flexing her fingers experimentally.
And then she began to play.
Her music was melodious with a touch of sincerity that evoked emotion from anyone passing by and it was precisely why she was chosen for this job as well as her concierge duties.
She loved the music and the music loved her.
Li Syaoran straightened his tuxedo, mentally thanking his secretary for getting a black one instead of a white one.
White just wasn't his color when it came to tuxes.
Giving himself one last look-over in the mirror in his deluxe suite, Syaoran idly flicked the lights off and exited his suite, suave and debonair in every way, the epitome of tall, relatively dark, and damn straight handsome.
Damn straight.
Women gawked and gaped at his finery, both natural and unnatural, meaning his fine looks and his fine clothes. This was him. This was Li Syaoran, infamous author and actor. This was him.
Hiiragizawa would later have to deal with re-routing his entire staff so that the female members, most of them anyway, were not around Li-san usually. They caused an awful ruckus when added to the already disruptive female guest list they had.
Awful ruckus.
And he, Syaoran, knowing full-well the flurry of things he caused, well, he smirked. He smirked knowing he did these things, knowing he could do these things at all. He was so busy congratulating himself on his entrance that he was startled out of his own mind by a beautiful sound.
A piano?
His amber eyes scanned the room he had just entered; grand like every other part of the Hikari, he marveled briefly at the molding and the etching, the carpet and the gilding. Then he marveled at the piano and its player and all things stopped right there.
Piano player.
Green eyes.
Light brown hair.
Incomparably astounding smile.
And then, as that man from before...Syaoran struggled to remember his name...Tsukishiro Yue approached her briefly, commented on something and made her laugh.
A sparkling laugh and she was still playing like nothing had fazed her.
Maybe nothing had.
And as Yue left her side by the piano, her playing, her fingers gliding like magic across the keys, Li Syaoran realized that for the first time in his life, instead of being stared at, he was the one doing the staring.
And he didn't really mind.
Not one bit.
-------------------------------------------- Alrightie, took me long enough I know.
So review if you want more, ne?
And Thankies to all who reviewed/ are reviewing already! Keep doing so. My ego just loves it. ^_~ Hehe.
But really, thank you.
-Kaji
"Sir?" the beautiful cherry blossom prompted the man before her who was still staring at her rather analytically, as though he was deciphering some foreign code found on her immaculate visage. He seemed to shake himself free of that though as her voice reached his ears and, gathering himself in an abrupt hurry, he nodded briefly to her in the first acknowledgement he had shown.
"Thank you for your hospitality," he paused, waiting for her to supply a name.
"Kinomoto, Sakura Kinomoto," she bowed slightly in formal Japanese custom and he suavely reciprocated.
"Now, Kinomoto-san, where should I and my colleagues go? Will you be directing us?" Syaoran asked, careful to conceal the muted hope he didn't even fully recognize himself yet.
"No, but Tsukishiro will do that for me," she smiled benignly at him, no longer lost in his depthless amber eyes, which she noted could be listed under the heading of dangerous weapons...one could drown in those forever, she contemplated absently and then blushed. This was not like her, no. She did not like complete strangers and most certainly she did not like this particular complete stranger.
After all, they hardly knew each other!
Her subconscious laughed at her unabashedly.
Correction, it smirked at her internally; you don't know each other at all.
"Tsukishiro-san I presume," Syaoran nodded to Yue who in turn did the same and wordlessly stepped forward to unburden him and his 'colleagues' of their baggage. Sakura stifled a giggle as she watched Yue lead the congregation of high class and fashion towards the elevators; he certainly did not look happy at all.
Then a voice startled her out of her thinking.
"Sakura-chan, how could you do that to poor defenseless Yue?" a charmingly lovely voice suppressed her own laughter as Sakura turned and lit up at the sight of the one and only Daidouji Tomoyo.
"Tomoyo-chan! I can't believe you're here; I thought you and your mother would be gone for at least another week," Sakura smiled as she embraced the raven-haired beauty in a warm hug.
"I know, but she let me come back early. Besides, I need my beautiful Sakura-chan to help me model my new line of designs," Tomoyo's composed and mature face dissolved into one of a pleading and beseeching child in the space of two point six seconds. And as usual, though Sakura put up a valiant protest, one of her best in years in fact, she surrendered to them. There was something about Tomoyo that just couldn't be denied.
Tomoyo's puppy-dog eyes, as she called them, were also under the listing of dangerous weapons. The classic beauty could get anyone to do anything for her with them; it was almost scary. Except it was Tomoyo, which essentially for most people, took a great deal of the fear factor away. Sakura was exempt of course because she, unlike untold dozens of men who approached Tomoyo, knew the imminent mischief that lay behind those indigo-blue eyes and she was wary.
But, her being only Kinomoto Sakura and she being The Daidouji Tomoyo, well as things usually turned out, Sakura tended to give in to the latter more often than not.
Fortunately, as they were the very best of friends, she didn't really seem to mind.
"So, what illumination of your genius will you be forcing this unworthy personage to wear this time?" Sakura laughed.
"More like what 'illuminations' my dear," Tomoyo grinned and Sakura had to repress the urge to groan. Of course, she should have known it was not singular when it came to her designs; whenever she came out with a line she meant it. It was a line of clothes, all brilliantly designed and made, most of which she would likely be donning in Tomoyo's next publicity stunt, also known as a fashion show.
"Whatever you say Tomoyo-chan," Sakura replied pleasantly before asking in a suddenly shrewd manner, "So who's the big kicker at this upcoming show? A movie star, a director, a pop idol?" It was no surprise that at every Daidouji fashion show, something or someone famous made a glitzy and publicly unexpected entrance. Of course, this was all a carefully laid out plan by Tomoyo herself who knew that by giving surprise celebrities free tickets to her exclusive shows, the excessive press was unprecedented. It was a good tactic, and Tomoyo knew it.
"Hm, well you could say he's a bit of an actor and a writer," Tomoyo replied and continued, "I haven't actually met him myself before and don't have his name off the top of my head, but I hear he's a little full of himself."
"Gossip, gossip, that's all probably. Most people are very down to earth once you crack their outer shell; look at Yue," Sakura grinned as said person was approaching them with an empty baggage cart, obviously done with his precious excursion.
"What about me you little schemer?" he grumbled.
"Schemer? Me? Why Yue I am shocked. You know very well I never make you do anything you don't want to," Sakura smiled sweetly to an unaffected Yue; one had to build up some kind of resistance to Sakura's ever cheerful water off a duck's back mannerisms after befriending her for so long. Or so one would hope, especially Yue.
"Of course not, you only make it sound like I want to do it when you know I don't until I am so confused by your constant barrage that I absolutely have to do what you insist is for the best," Yue summed up matter-of- factly.
"And isn't it always?" Sakura retorted, almost blandly but with a hint of amusement in her sparkling emerald eyes.
"Right," was all Yue would reply with and Tomoyo stifled a giggle. Yue scowled at her. Apparently not stifled enough.
"Kinomoto!" a young man, older than her perhaps though by five years approached the threesome, black hair falling into his vivid blue eyes that, as they were, already shielded in elegant silver frames.
"Yes Hiiragizawa-san?" she smiled.
"Don't forget, you're to play in the mid-level soon, like always," he reminded her in a familiar manner that suggested the two were more than superior and worker. And they were. They were also friends.
"I know, I know. I do this every night Hiiragizawa-san. Give me some credit," she sounded sulky but it was purposeful and drew forth the desired outcome. Hiiragizawa Eriol's face frowned slightly and he absently pushed the center of his glasses up the bridge of his nose; they were forever sliding down.
"Forgive me Kinomoto-san. I just thought to remind you so you might not forget in your meeting with Daidouji-san here," he said and Sakura's sulky tone left her as she shrugged good-naturedly.
"I was kidding you know. Don't be so serious. I think you need a vacation Mr. President," she joked. Well he was the President, of the Hikari Hotel chain anyway.
"Yes, yes," Hiiragizawa nodded apologetically before running off to attack some poor busboy about his lack of coordination.
"Eriol's gotten rather...busy hasn't he?" Tomoyo asked pensively. Sakura's sharp green eyes flashed with the observation of something that might come to pass but she hid it well and pasted over it a blank and genki [cheerful] expression.
"Maybe, but deep down he's just the same old trouble maker. I'm positive it was him who dumped those five pitchers of ice cold water down the laundry shoots last week," Sakura shook her head and turned slightly away from the two, Yue smirking at her humor and Tomoyo grinning.
"Where you going?" Yue asked absently.
"You know, you know," Sakura groaned and added, "The mid-level, remember?" Yue hit himself, mentally of course and nodded. The word 'duh' came to mind but Yue would never bring himself down to that level of vocabulary as far as vocalization. Not if he could avoid it anyway.
"Bye then Sakura-chan, I'll be seeing you soon," Tomoyo winked and waved to Yue as well, "See you late Yue. Take care of our little cherry blossom!" And the infamous designer and business woman was out the automatic doors in a flash, off to her next order of business no doubt.
Sakura bid Yue a good-bye as well and set out for her quarters. Before playing she had to get into uniform, or dress-code. It was a different one from her concierge attire. Slipping the card-key out of her back pocket, Sakura approached a door at the end of a hallway, located of course, on the first floor. The light flashed green and she was in.
It was small, like any worker's room in a hotel. But it was home for now and Sakura's magic touch seemed to make it appear bigger than it really was. Sighing, she ran her tapered fingers through her hair, short as it was now, she still had a habit of doing so. Some said it made her look to childish, but after elementary school she had grown it out long and decided when she graduated high school, she missed her short hair. Her mother Nadeshiko, had had long, wavy gorgeous hair but somehow, Sakura knew that the way her hair was now, well, it suited her.
Framing her eyes, the bangs created a softening effect that served to make her seem attractive in her own way. She wasn't the normal, sexy, super- model type, but she was Sakura and that in itself was an attribute to her beauty. Unbuttoning the collared white shirt, she exchanged it and her black slacks for a pale green gown, floor-length, soft and elegant.
Every night at the hotel there was a formal dinner, so any of the people involved in the night's festivities, staff included, had to follow the fancy dress code. It wasn't revealing but it had an easy sloping neckline, sleeveless and made of a silky material that was a compliment to her fair skin and added extenuation of her green eyes. Around her neck she clasped a plain silver necklace with a teardrop pendant, a petite diamond, a present from Tomoyo a few years back. Then she stepped back to examine her handiwork.
Well, she was no Tomoyo but then again, who was?
She still looked good and anyone who said differently would be branded and sold a dead-straight liar for saying so. She looked very, very good. Of course, Sakura only saw that she was wearing the proper clothes for the calling, not that she was pretty or beautiful because that wasn't how Sakura saw things, especially not herself. So, satisfied, she stepped out of her room, a slightly silver purse on her arm and she made her way to the mid-level, oblivious to the appreciative stares numerous men gave her and the numerous lady-friends of those same men who proceeded to glare at her and yell at their boyfriends or husbands for being so uncouth.
No she was just focused on one thing now.
Sakura sat the bag down below the large black instrument and opened the cover delicately, flexing her fingers experimentally.
And then she began to play.
Her music was melodious with a touch of sincerity that evoked emotion from anyone passing by and it was precisely why she was chosen for this job as well as her concierge duties.
She loved the music and the music loved her.
Li Syaoran straightened his tuxedo, mentally thanking his secretary for getting a black one instead of a white one.
White just wasn't his color when it came to tuxes.
Giving himself one last look-over in the mirror in his deluxe suite, Syaoran idly flicked the lights off and exited his suite, suave and debonair in every way, the epitome of tall, relatively dark, and damn straight handsome.
Damn straight.
Women gawked and gaped at his finery, both natural and unnatural, meaning his fine looks and his fine clothes. This was him. This was Li Syaoran, infamous author and actor. This was him.
Hiiragizawa would later have to deal with re-routing his entire staff so that the female members, most of them anyway, were not around Li-san usually. They caused an awful ruckus when added to the already disruptive female guest list they had.
Awful ruckus.
And he, Syaoran, knowing full-well the flurry of things he caused, well, he smirked. He smirked knowing he did these things, knowing he could do these things at all. He was so busy congratulating himself on his entrance that he was startled out of his own mind by a beautiful sound.
A piano?
His amber eyes scanned the room he had just entered; grand like every other part of the Hikari, he marveled briefly at the molding and the etching, the carpet and the gilding. Then he marveled at the piano and its player and all things stopped right there.
Piano player.
Green eyes.
Light brown hair.
Incomparably astounding smile.
And then, as that man from before...Syaoran struggled to remember his name...Tsukishiro Yue approached her briefly, commented on something and made her laugh.
A sparkling laugh and she was still playing like nothing had fazed her.
Maybe nothing had.
And as Yue left her side by the piano, her playing, her fingers gliding like magic across the keys, Li Syaoran realized that for the first time in his life, instead of being stared at, he was the one doing the staring.
And he didn't really mind.
Not one bit.
-------------------------------------------- Alrightie, took me long enough I know.
So review if you want more, ne?
And Thankies to all who reviewed/ are reviewing already! Keep doing so. My ego just loves it. ^_~ Hehe.
But really, thank you.
-Kaji