Chapter 4: Preliminaries

Her Magic: Sakura's magic works a little differently here. She still has to say the name of the spell and can do only one at a time, but she has no cards. Instead, the spells are inside her. So she doesn't have to pull out a card to do a spell, or be holding her wand, she can just do it.

The Champion is Sakura, yes. That's supposed to be apparent, but I'm telling you just in case it's not.

The SH(OW)-ran Thing: By the way, my putting the Japanese pronunciation of Syaoran's name (I only saw it in Japanese, so I don't know the English) is just because I was reading CCS fics before I saw the show and it was driving me crazy because I desperately wanted to know how his name was pronounced. It's not some twisted attempt to make myself a pompous jerk, in case anyone was worried. Nobody's said anything, but I'm covering my bases anyway.

Most of the fights were happening at the same time and preselected judges would call the winner of each. Syaoran was stretching to warm up for his fight while the boundaries were being drawn. The field was being divided for these fights because, as Syaoran noticed when the names were called, they were expected to be done with rather quickly. In order to weed out the inexperienced fighters quickly, they had been paired with obviously strong and experienced fighters. A few of the loud men from the night before started to complain when they saw their opponents, but the large one that had been attacked by Yue didn't. He was looking at his opponent with a mixture of pleasure and fear.

He was fighting the champion.

"I forfeit," a laugh came from behind Syaoran. He turned and saw the man he'd spoken to at dinner, the one who had been stealing food. Now he was smiling and holding up his hands in a surrender motion.

"Are you serious?" Syaoran asked. He was disappointed at not getting to fight, but glad that he wouldn't have to beat so obviously inept an opponent.

The man nodded. "I've seen how fast you are with your hands -- I'm not stupid. I came here for the food, mostly."

Syaoran shrugged. He wanted to watch the champion's fight, anyway. "Let's tell the judge."

The judge raised one eyebrow, marked Syaoran the winner on her paper, and the two men drifted over to the champion's circle.

Sakura's Champion was lovely. Her white fighting clothes skimmed over her skin, allowing her full range of movement while still giving her femininity some play. The neck dipped down low and cut straight across the tops of her breasts, pressing them in and holding them so that she could move without having to worry about them bouncing too much. Around her neck was a long white ribbon tied behind in a simple bow like the two ribbons holding her hair back. Pale blue edged her clothes, and on her feet were soft white boots with wings on them.

A royal trumpeter would play one loud note for all the fights to begin. The king stood by, waiting for the judges to all give him the go-ahead so that he could cue the trumpeter, and Syaoran watched Sakura's Champion intently. If he looked through her instead of at her, he could see the magic she was calling up already. It was small, he could tell, the spell she was holding, and he wondered what it was.

One sharp, short blast of the trumpet, and the champion's palm snapped up. She said "Windy" and before her opponent knew what had hit him, he was blown out of the ring.

And, that quickly, she had won.

She turned, a small sigh passing her lips as her face softened and her body relaxed -- and that was when the stunned man got up and lunged at her, fury written in every line of his face.

Syaoran was able to put himself between the champion and her attacker only moments after Yue had moved. In three fluid motions, he had disarmed the man and knocked him flat. The attacker was, Syaoran saw when he could focus properly past the red haze of rage, unconscious and bleeding.

"Thank you," her breathless voice said from behind him, and Syaoran turned. Her eyes were a limpid green that swirled with dark emotions. She seemed stunned that any man would attack her like that, but also surprised at Syaoran's quick reaction. She looked at him and seemed to see him, but she was confused. "You would protect me so readily when I stand between you and the princess?"

"I . . ." he almost choked on his own tongue, "'m not here for that," he muttered, face hot and body so tense that he felt he would shatter if she touched him.

She gave him a strange look. "You're not here for what?"

He bowed low. "I just wanted to fight," he told her. "I don't want to win."

Her look was even stranger now, but he was encouraged that he'd gotten her attention -- and maybe her interest. She was, at the moment, trying to understand him. But that meant that she would have to think about him. So, at the very least, he was in her thoughts.

"Excuse me," he said, more to get away from her than anything, "I promised my new friend that I would help him pack." And so he turned, found his opponent, and hurried the other man back toward the castle.

The man was looking at Syaoran oddly as they walked. "What on earth . . . why are you here if you don't want the princess?"

Syaoran ducked his head and blushed furiously. "That's none of your business," he gritted out.

Comprehension was dawning on the man's face. "You want the champion, don't you? I can't say I wouldn't like a pretty young woman like her myself -- strong women bear strong children, you know. But I'd be afraid of offending the royal family, if I were you."

"Yes, well, that's why I'm going to lose. Eventually." He was eager to get off the subject. "Let's just go get your stuff together. Are you staying through lunch or are you leaving right away?"

"Leaving, I'd say," the man said, scratching his chin. "I want to get that food back to my kids as soon as I can. No use staying around here much longer."

"Right," Syaoran agreed, but his mind was already drifting back to a pair of green eyes.

He sat somewhat glumly while his "friend" got his large sack of pilfered meat and bread. With the sack across his back, he smelled so strongly of roast fowl that Syaoran was sure he'd attract every dog in the city. But he held his tongue and walked out to the front castle steps with the man.

"It was good to meet you," Syaoran said, bowing to bid the man farewell. "My name is Syaoran Li. I wish you good luck and fair weather on your journey home."

"I am Fuku," said the man, also bowing, but as he bent at his waist the bag he was carrying overbalanced and started to topple him over. Syaoran was able to grab him before he fell down the stairs, but the bag hit the steps and burst open, spilling stolen food all down the grand entrance to the Kinomoto castle.

"You dropped something," a very small, familiar voice came from behind them. The two men turned to the young woman who was looking at the mess in dismay. She turned her eyes onto Fuku, her white ribbons rustling in the wind.

"Where did you get this food?" Yue said from behind her, his pale eyes narrowed.

Fuku started to tremble. "I . . . it . . . my children . . ."

Syaoran stepped up, his voice steady and eyes unwavering as they met the longed-for green. This was bigger than he was, more important that his goals. But he couldn't help a small quailing in his stomach at having to stand up to this woman. "His children are hungry. We thought no one would miss a few things from dinner last night." And so sealed his fate.

She looked at them, down at the scattered food, then said, "Come with me."

It wasn't long before their fear was allayed. Though Syaoran was nervous, he refused to show it or admit that this may have crushed his chances for the beautiful champion.

They could smell the cooking from the corridor, and the champion caught a kitchen maiden and whispered something in her ear. She glanced at the men behind the other woman, but left to do as she was told. It wasn't long before she returned with a small bulging bag that the champion opened for inspection.

"Jerky," she murmured, "journey bread, honey, milk. Yes, this will do." She handed it to Fuku and told him that this food would travel better than what he had picked up in the dining hall. She looked at him inquisitively. "Do you have a mount?" He shook his head, and she led them toward the stables. "There's a very old donkey here -- we're pretty much just waiting for her to die. She ought to have one good trip left in her and if you can get her home, the meat will feed your family for a few weeks. Ho, stablemaster!" she called, and the two men behind her looked at each other, amazement flying between them.

Soon, Fuku was settled with his sack of food on the old donkey -- before he left, though, he bent close to Syaoran and whispered quite urgently, "If you get the chance at all, marry her."

"Okay," Syaoran replied, smiling. He stood back with the champion and Yue to watch Fuku ride out of the front gates. He gave the grinning, waving girl a sidelong glance, then smiled. She looked so young and bright when she was happy. All he said, though, was, "You certainly know your way around the castle." What he wanted to say was left unsaid: You are very kind.

She turned her bright smile on him. "I should. I grew up here."

"Really. So you are close to the royal family?" She only smiled her assent. "What's your name?"

Here she paused and blushed. "Sakura's Champion," she stammered.

She was being stubborn. "That can't be your real name."

Again she blushed and glanced at her unhelpful guard.

"At least tell me your family's name so that I might call you by it. It's very awkward to call you 'Sakura's Champion' all the time."

"Er--Daidouji. I'm . . . Daidouji." She seemed to be searching frantically for another subject and her eyes lit up as she found one. "You said a little while ago that you weren't here to win. That was very curious. Could you tell me why?"

He smiled. "Another time. I promise." And something about his eyes kept her from prying.

That evening, the champion's guard, Yue, was gone. He was resting, apparently, but Syaoran worried that he would tell someone about the donkey and the food and that Daidouji-Champion would get in trouble.

Daidouji. It was pretty -- elegant. He liked the taste of it on his lips. But he liked "Li" better, especially in her case. He did not want her to come out of this a Daidouji.

Unfortunately, a few of the other men, the ones that knew they wouldn't win anyway, seemed to be thinking along the same lines. If they couldn't come out of this with a princess, perhaps they could catch a very pretty young champion instead. To make matters worse, her cheerful friendliness encouraged them! Syaoran didn't want to be outgoing and social -- he didn't like crowds much -- but he felt more and more the need to pry his way into that little group of admirers and outshine them all.

Luckily, that was what he was here for -- to outshine them on the battlefield.

He started to feel a little bloodthirsty, but he welcomed it as he welcomed the morning. It would be a long day, but he would take care of his rivals -- he only prayed that he would be matched with some of them.

AN: This is my first Card Captor Sakura fic. If you want many more CCS fics by me, please encourage me with reviews. I love reviews and they make me want to write.