DISCLAIMER: CCS does not belong to me. Characters were used without permission. Succeeding fiction is a non-profit article.
RAI: I have taken an amount of time to update, true. If I explained myself, it really wouldn't matter much anymore. There is a notice in my bio though that you people might want to read.
The Assignment
V: Disillusioned
-
Sakura woke up and realized she was stupid. Stupid for a number of things. Stupid for stalking a stranger. Stupid for having demented illusions of that stranger. Stupid for imagining senseless things about the same stranger.
The whole Li Syaoran episode has plagued her thoughts from time to time. Up until this morning, she hadn't realized that she had been grandly disillusioned. And that fact was disturbing.
True, she was attracted to the man. Her compulsive reaction to him defies logical reasoning. He was, after all, an attractive person. She wasn't the only girl on campus who held an appraising torch for the stoic stranger. Twice, she had overheard women talking about the gorgeous new student in the engineering department-his course-the one with amber eyes and who always seemed aloof. She wasn't alone in this obsession.
But that was the disturbing part. Petty crushes have never affected her this way before. She had never believed in love at first sight or cosmic imbalances. She was far more level-headed than that. But her emotions have runaway ahead of her this time.
She mentally looked back at the past days that she have been obsessing with her stolid knight in shinning ego-as Tomoyo so well placed it-and inwardly grimaced at her stupidity. The lengths she'd gone and the things she did were embarassingly hopeless. The way she oggled at him at the parking lot and the library made her feel like an insipid dwit.
Groaning, she went out of bed and padded her way towards the kitchen. Tomoyo had an early morning class on Mondays and she knew she's be waking up in an empty dorm room. Half-awake, she reached for a bowl and the box of cereals. Methodically, she filled her bowl with her breakfast. Mouthing spoonfuls of cereal, her mind drifted again to her graceless behaviour the past days.
'Why' had been a uestion she had long given up on asking. There didn't seem to be any logical explanation for her obsession. He was a mystery she wanted to solve. So much so that the want accelerated to a need. A craving.
Was she…
Impossoble. Such things were neurotical and applies only to the hopeless romantics who were only bitten by the sad facts of reality later on. Love at first sight was nothing more than a destructive attraction. Love wasn't supposed to be foreboding. She was definitely not in love.
"Come on, Kinomoto," she muttered to herself, "you're smarter than this."
Finishing her cereal, she dumped the bowl in the sink and headed towards the bathroom. She lifted her head, as if clearing it away of an offensive thought, her footsteps falling assertive.
Kinomoto Sakura wasn't a delusional person. And Li Syaoran wasn't the man who was going to make her one.
-
She came like sunshine. Exactly the way he had seen her in the parking lot. Bright and warm. Her prescence brought memories of spring mornings. Fresh and dewy. She was laughing at something her companion was saying when she entered the chemistry laboratory. The sound of her laughter was like church bells on Christmas. Festive.
But he was not disillusioned.
There was something about her today. A sparked courage. A confidence he sa before he had rescued her in the parking lot. A confidence she lost everytime she came to notice his prescence.
But not today.
She saw him watching her when she entered. And unlike the blushing school girl he had grown accustomed to last week, she hardly gave him an acknowledging nod before she took the seat next to her friend's.
'Amusing.'
The little wolf wondered where and how this courage ressurected. Somehow, he seemed compelled to her even more now.
But he was definitely not disillusioned.
The classroom chatter subsided when Motoki-sensei entered the laboratory.
"I have checked your evaluation tests and I have based upon the results the pairings I have listed here," he extracted a piece of paper from his folio, "this pairings will be effective for the whole term. Unless you have any objections, which I expect to hear today, there will be no changing of partners."
The sensei began enumerating the list of pairs he has made. Syaoran was not listening. He was watching his assignment unobtrusively. He had seen the paper. He had known the results. He was waiting for the reaction.
The sensei finali mentioned the names he was waiting for.
"Kinomoto Sakura and Li Syaoran."
-
Sakura froze. The neme of the partner assigned to her for the whole term ringing in her ears.
"Li Syaoran."
Just when she's decided to get over her obsession, fate decides to screw up her plan in a grand scale.
'Compose yourself. This is no big deal.'
She breathed once. Then twice. Then thrice. She was going to get through this without any embarassing scenarios again.
Motoki-sensei finished reading the list, "Any objections?" the class was silent, "I expect you to be with your respective partners in fifteen seconds. Starting now."
The class scrambled about. Sakura stayed seated. He was the guy. He ought to be the one to approach her. But Li Syaoran wasn't exactly the gentleman type. And although he knew her, they have never exchanged names or have been formally introduced.
Now who was going to sit with whom?
Sakura counted the seconds.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Most of the class was already in pairs. Hers hadn't found her yet. He obviously can't put a name to a face.
Breathing deeply, she stood up and turned. Lis Syaoran sat languidly on his chair watching her approach. A condescending look on his face.
"Li Syaoran?" she inferred.
"Kinomoto."
"Guess we're stuck together for the term," she shrugged.
He nodded impassively at her and didn't say anything else.
"Is this seat taken?" she asked.
He didn't respond. She hates his guts. She took the liberty to take the seat beside him and placed her books on the lab table between them.
Irked by his non-response, she decided to give him a piece of her mind. She wasn't good ar Chemistry. But she intended to pass the general elective. And his superiority complex towards her couldn't possibly help her in this subject.
She gritted her teeth and said with enough spite, "you don't have to be so fucking condescending, you know."
-
He was still reveling at her nearness, trying his damnable hardest to regain control. This was an assignment. You don't make mistakes on assignment.
But his subject was even more compelling now than she ever was. She was fascinating him greatly. Something he couldn't ignore.
This was the thought in his mind as he avoided his gaze from the woman seated beside him when she spoke in an irritated tone.
"You don't have to be so fucking condescending, you know."
He turned towards her slowly and the look of fire he saw in her eyes almost extracted a smile from him, "I beg your pardon?"
"I'm not as stupid as you think I am," she said vehemently, controlling the rise of her voice, "if you don't want me for your lab partner, you can just say so and I can trade with someone you find more suitable."
She stared at him angrily.
Marvelous.
Li Syaoran decided he likes the Kinomoto more when she was angry. Her eyes couldn't possible turn into a deeper shade of green. Like sparkling emeralds.
He almost smiled. Almost. Instead he met her gaze and answered her sincerely, "I have no complaints."
She stared at him. Her forehead slightly creased. Then she abruptly turned her gaze towards the sensei, her cheeks tinted pink.
The little wolf couldn't help it. He had to smile.
-
Afternoon of the same day, after her class, Tomoyo entered the mall with a list in her hand. She needed materials for a project in one of her subjects. A Clothing Technology student majoring in Fashion Designing, her materials were going to be taken from the textile department.
But before that, she headed towards the ladies' room. She had too much iced tea from lunch caused by Sakura's latest tale regarding the elusive Li Syaoran.
Fate itself commenced a plan to set them up. She found the idea both strange and humorous. But she couldn't possibly laugh now. Her bladder was going to give up on her.
Turning the corner towards the comfort rooms, she nearly collided with a maintenance person in her rush. But the man in the blue jumpsuit had been cautious and had stopped in time.
"Gomenasai," she bowed profusely, apologizing.
The man merely tipped his hat and stepped aside to let her pass.
She grinned sheepishly before she darted towards the ladies' lavatory.
Only when she was already making her way towards the textile department did she note that there seemed to be something familiar about the man. The cleaning personnel. But she doesn't know much men who wears a moustache. Come to think of it, she doesn't know any man who wears a moustache other than her grandfather. And her grandfather died two years ago.
She shrugged it off thinking it was just someone who resembles her grandfather. Or someone else she knew.
-
After nearly colliding with Tomoyo, the maintenance man rode the service elevator towards the top floor of the building. The personnel department of the mall. Pushing a cleaning cart, he whistled his way towards the maintenance section.
A minute later, a moustached man in a suit emerged from the room, securing his tie. He looked like any other executive head moving around the floor. Employees who didn't recognize him assumed he was head of some department or a franchise owner.
He passed by the lounge room where the secretary of the accounting director was taking a coffee break that would last for ten minutes. All calls for the accounting director would be on hold for ten minutes.
No one saw him enter the office of the accounting head.
The director lifted his head and was surprised to see the stranger he didn't even notice neter.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The man gave him a small seraphic smile as he withdrew the .25 Walther from his coat, "the Angel of Death."
Two short gunshots were fired, their sounds omitted by the silencer on the weapon. One on the head and one on the heart.
He checked his watch. Seven more minutes. Plenty of time.
He walked towards the bookcase and withdrew a leather bound book by Victor Hugo. Les Miserables. He opened it to reveal a miniature oil canvass of a Victorian lady. Turning the miniature over, he fingered the meatal frame. He wasn't worried about fingerprints. The ones he was wearing would lead nowhere. Using his nails, he traced the edges of the frame. Slowly, he lifted a thin film, something that could be mistaken for a simple plasitc covering. The film, when rinsed in parenteral solution would reveal a Swiss account number and its details*. He took a small case in his coat and placed the film in it. Then closing the lid, he returned the case in his coat. He placed everything back where it was, except the cadaver sitting on the swivel chair.
He left the room as inobtrusively as he went in. No one noticed.
On the way towards the fire exit, he took off his jacket and moustache and dropped them in the garbage bag of the maintenance man walking towards the opposite direction. He muttered, "The weather is nice,"
An Institute code. Weather meaning the assignment. And nice, meaning dead.
The maintenance personnel whistled as he walked towards the service elevator. It took him to the basement parking where a cleaners van was waiting for him.
In the personnel department, three minutes later, the accounting director's secretary knocked on her employer's door. When he didn't answer, she dedecided to get in. then she screamed.
At the same time, on the first floor, wearing a blue shirt and black cargo shorts, Li Syaoran was choosing between a Merriam-Webster and an Oxford Thesaurus.
-to be continued-
* A figment of my imagination. No such thing exists. Unless my imagination proves more true than even I thought. As for the silencer on the Walther, I'm not really sure Walthers have silencers. I just read it in Glamorama. Cool novel.RAI: I'm not sure when the next will be updated. All I know is that this thing is making a life of it's own.it would pleasure me to hear your remarks.