Chapter 5: Round One

The Daidouji Name Game: To prevent confusion, I'll always call Sakura "Daidouji-Champion" or something with "Champion" in it, and Tomoyo will always either be unnamed or "Tomoyo." I will try my best to make the seperation clear so that no one gets confused.

Sakura is the princess and the champion, yes. (Because someone asked.) Elaboration will come in time.

Yue is the personality and voice he had in the anime (Japanese subtitled). I'm trying really hard on him because I adore him.

Please enjoy this story. It makes me very happy to make others happy. And thank you to all the wonderful people who tripled my review count -- it exploded. Boom!

He was distracted. It was that silly woman's fault, he knew, but he had to get his thoughts in line before he fought, or he'd fall on his butt and make a fool of himself.

He wasn't, of course, fighting any of his rivals. He'd been paired up with another particularly easy opponent. Oddly, the men who liked to drink and boast had been paired up against each other, while Syaoran couldn't see a single one of Daidouji-Champion's friends who didn't have an easy opponent -- himself included.

He felt a little chafed because of it, as if she didn't think he could hold his own against a strong opponent, and it made him attack hard and finish his match quickly. Finding himself done before the others, he turned toward the champion's fight. They had been delayed because her opponent was arguing.

"It's a setup! I know it is! You put me against her on purpose!"

Again, the biggest, meanest of the men was paired off with the champion. He looked nervous, obviously remembering how quickly his friend was beaten.

Syaoran privately thought that he had reason to look scared. One small spell had been all she had used last time, but it had been as effective as anyone could wish. She may not be a powerful sorceress, but she was smart and that made up for a lot of magic power.

"Of course you're fighting me on purpose." Her voice was soft and a small smile played around her mouth, but her eyes were chips of hard cold emerald. "We're weeding out the men," here she swept a hand as if graciously offering him a seat in the ring, "that we don't like."

The prince took a small step forward and subtly nudged the man into the ring -- but only if a nudge were a rough, one-handed shove -- while he pretended to be looking elsewhere.

Daidouji-Champion politely allowed the warrior to regain his balance and even prepare for an attack before blowing him out of the ring. The prince, though, looked unamused.

"One second of hesitation," Syaoran could hear him lecturing her as they walked toward the castle, "and the battle can turn on you. You have to be more careful!" He quietly agreed but wouldn't have been able to say so -- her laughter, like cool water after a long day of training, made his tongue feel thick and his face feel as if he'd been practicing for hours on end. He would never be able to approach her like the prince did -- never be able to get on familiar terms with her. And his whole purpose for being here would fail.

Fail.

That evening, the number of men was a fourth of its first size and Syaoran was able to make out Kinomoto courtiers among the throng. They mostly left the warriors alone, but a few seemed to have deemed Syaoran worth talking to despite his obvious foreignness.

One of these was the beautiful woman with long waves of dark hair who he first saw with Daidouji-Champion. She sparkled softly, smiling and speaking with him over her daintily-held glass of wine. Ale had been supplied for the warriors, but wine was in abundance for those of higher rank.

"The fights have been so exciting," she was saying in her soft, lilting voice, "especially the champion's. Don't you think she is the cutest champion ever?" She waited for him to agree before moving on. "Did you know that I made her costume? I wanted to make one for every day of the tournament, but she wouldn't let me." She put a pale hand to her cheek and looked desolate. "It would have been my greatest pleasure to make cute clothes for our cute champion."

He made a vague noise of assent, but didn't pursue the subject. Besides possibly being a little weird, this girl was close to the champion. Did that mean that he should get close to her?

Before he could come to a decision, a well-dressed woman with short red hair approached, throwing her long arms around the girl he was speaking to. "Tomoyo! Who is this handsome young man you've found?"

The girl smiled. "We were just getting acquainted, mother. We were speaking about the champion when you arrived. I was just about to seek his opinion of her."

The woman perked up. "Do tell!" she said, releasing her daughter and turning both eyes on Syaoran. "What do you think of our cute champion?"

Syaoran was flustered and blushing, every muscle in him screaming to run rather than answer that one question.

At his continued silence and obvious discomfort, the older woman blinked, then realized something important. "I'm sorry -- I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Duchess Sonomi Daidouji." She shook his hand vigorously. "Cousin to the late queen."

"Ah!" her daughter said in dismay. "I forgot to introduce myself, as well. I get so distracted when I talk about our cute champion." She'd put her hand to her face again, but her confession had been so sweet and soft that he found himself nodding even though he'd been raised to understand the paramount importance of ettiquette. "I'm Lady Tomoyo Daidouji." She curtseyed, the motion so smooth that she didn't spill a drop of her wine.

His ears twitched. "Daidouji?" he asked. "Are you related to the champion? The only name she would give me was Daidouji."

The two women looked at each other, something being communicated that he didn't understand.

The daughter smiled at him. "She's our cousin. But I'm surprised she gave you any name -- she's not supposed to."

He looked at her quizzically. "Why is that?"

It seemed that she had said too much because she only shook her head and the two women moved away from the subject with polite and eloquent small-talk. Eventually, the conversation made its way to his bouts in the tournament.

"I wish they'd give me someone more challenging to fight tomorrow." If he didn't fight anyone worthy, he couldn't impress the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. "The two men I've had so far have been jokes."

"Have you requested someone difficult?" Lady Tomoyo asked, looking at him with steady, curious eyes over her cup. "I'm sure you would be readily obliged."

He glanced over at the people hurrying around the charts and grimaced. There were enough warriors and courtiers trying to ingratiate themselves with the king and prince that a moth couldn't fly between most of the bodies in that area of the dining hall. Unfortunately, this made their job of writing the charts even more laborious because people kept offering advice.

The princess, whom he was indifferent to, was still ill. Many of the warriors had expressed concern -- or thinly veiled anger -- at this delay in meeting her. She again sent her regards and well-wishes to her future husband, but this did little to allay the surge of negative emotions that Syaoran could see swinging to the fore.

All he could tell from her messages was that she seemed like a very kind, polite, and obedient girl.

Exactly the kind of girl that would bore Syaoran to tears.

His eyes moved to the champion, who was grimacing more than smiling under the jocular attentions of a few half-drunk warriors. Yue, he was glad to see, was standing very near them with the coldest and most disapproving look Syaoran had seen on him yet. This gave him heart and he started to consider going over there when he remembered that there were still two ladies he had not yet answered.

He smiled at them and apologized for letting his mind wander. "I think I will ask someone when the crowd thins a little. I'm sure a few spots can be shifted around."

It wasn't until a few hours later that the gaggle of men and women around the champion had moved off to their rooms, exhausted and ale-muddled. Syaoran felt bad for the warriors in the morning, having to fight with hangovers, but found that this was a perfect opportunity to catch the champion alone.

He managed to sidle up to her and give a soft cough. Yue was already staring down his aristocratic nose at him, but Syaoran did his best to ignore the taller man.

Daidouji-Champion turned, plastering a fake smile on her face even before she saw him. He noticed the weariness around her eyes and felt sympathy shoot through him like a razor. He promptly forgot what he was there for and touched her shoulder, but removed his hand at Yue's soft warning hiss. "Daidouji," he said, eyes steady as he studied her face. Her smile had relaxed into a genuine one when she'd recognized him and, though that made his heart leap a little in joy and hope, it didn't stop the worry that was already taking hold. "You should get some rest," he told her, trying to keep the obvious concern in his voice to a minimum (the last thing he needed was for her to realize immediately how madly in love he was with her and then to run screaming to the nearest guard). "You look exhausted. Are you eating well enough?"

She laughed a little, but the warmth that spread up his body from his fingertips at the sound didn't make its way into his face and his brow furrowed even more. "I'm okay, thank you. Just a little tired from staying up too late. I'll be fine."

Syaoran was worried. "You shouldn't be tiring yourself out when you're going to be fighting. Let the others do this work, you need to rest."

"That's what I've been telling her." The voice was deep and familiar, and Syaoran turned slightly to meet the eyes of the prince at his elbow. Those eyes were openly hostile as usual, but Syaoran detected two new things in that gaze. First, the barest lessening of hatred towards Syaoran. Second, a well-hidden but deeply-seated worry for the girl in front of him. He really did care about her and Syaoran, looking at the prince, felt his heart just slightly go out. I'm sorry if I'm stealing your girl, he offered in silence. I really am. But I'm going to do it anyway.

After a few minutes of manly cajoling, in which Yue even offered his silvery persuading tongue ("Go to bed."), they managed to make the yawning, sleep-stumbling champion work her way to the stairs, beyond which Syaoran assumed was her room.

He left soon after, not remembering what he'd walked over there to do in the first place and not really caring.

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