Chapter 2: Signing Up

The tournament grounds were misty and just tinted cool with a breeze. Long lines of men waited to sign up at the two tables, straggling into the small field that they would be fighting on – lots of different types of men, too. Syaoran leaned against the support beam for a stand of seats and watched them. A few were farmers, still in their work clothes and sunhats, carrying scythes. They were pure muscle, mostly, leaning more on the brawn built through heavy labor than any particular skill in fighting. Still others were soldiers, trained and hardened for battle, but no match for a well-trained swordsman or martial artist. Or mage, for that matter. He wondered idly if magic would be allowed – and if so, who would be able to use it.

Still others in line were boys, not even young men yet, who had built faulty confidence through the ignorance of youth and minor victories in local brawls.

"You're not from around here."

Syaoran turned, surprised that someone had been able to sneak up on him, and found himself facing a pair of very hostile brown eyes. The young man's body was in a posture of relaxation, but his muscles were lightly tensed as if ready for a fight.

"Are you signing up?" he asked, tilting his chin toward the lines in a gesture that he somehow managed to pour contempt into. His eyes, when they fell on the lines and lines of men, were fierce and angry.

"I came to watch," Syaoran replied, wondering who this man was.

"Good," the young man said. "The fewer men in this ridiculous travesty of a husband-hunt, the better." And he stalked off.

Syaoran's good mood had vanished. Something about that young man had brought his hackles up. He cast a dark look toward the tables where men were signing up and turned --

-- bumping right into someone.

"Sorry!" the someone said, wincing as he turned his full glare on . . . her? "I really didn't mean to bump into you."

His glare turned into a blush as she smiled at him. She was all in white, wearing a somewhat form-fitting jumpsuit with ribbons trailing down from her short hair. Her eyes when she smiled at him became a dark, mischievous green.

"I guess I'll see you on the field," she said, turning and glancing back with what he could only consider a maddening look, heavy-lashed and provocative even though she was merely being friendly. "I'm the princess' champion in this whole thing."

Before she got very far, she was accosted by a beautiful young woman with endless waves of dark hair. "Cute Champion! There you are! I am missing wonderful opportunities to sketch you! Oh, the woe that I could not find you sooner in this crowd!" Her eyes sparkled and she overflowed with soft, bubbly joy at having found her friend.

"Cute Champion" laughed and blushed at the same time, a charming mixture, and Syaoran stood watching them walk away from the field, a somewhat dumbfounded look on his face.

It was probably then that he got in line without realizing it and signed his name before he even knew what he was doing.

Syaoran: pronounced SH(OW)-ran

Sakura's outfit: cut like the FFX-2 alchemist outfit but without all the armor and elaboration. It's mostly white, breathable fabric with a little mild blue pattern. (I wanted a more form-fitting, feminine version of Yue's clothes. Maybe you could even think in terms of Paine's white mage outfit.) But I particularly want you to note that cutout over the chest in the FFX-2 alchemist outfit. I think that's a nice feminine touch. In any case, I'll try to describe it in more detail later.