Part II
by Simply dZ
Summary: She was a whore, entertaining hormone driven guys for money. But judgments are only skin-deep, and he learns that she is much deeper then meets the eye. SxS
ooOoo
He was drowning. Drowning in deep water. He was in deep over his head, and he didn't care.
He didn't care at all.
ooOoo
Syaoran found himself in front of Club Tokyo. He really didn't know why; after all, this was her business, and he had nothing to do with it. But a flash of her forest green eyes told him that he wanted to know, wanted to know her secret.
It was past midnight, yet the ceaseless traffic of pedestrians and cars kept the city alive. Signs shone in bright florescent lights, and the artificial lights lit the city as if it was still day. It was a blur of blue and red and pink and green and drunken old men and wannabe gangsters. Syaoran, wearing a pair of black sunglasses and beanies, stood calmly in the midst of it all.
He let his eyes wonder, and his thoughts with it.
A balding businessman in his middle years hurried past, the scent of alcohol and cheap perfume clinging discreetly to his slightly ruffled suit. It was obvious to Syaoran that he was hurrying home after a night of fooling around, trying desperately to think up of a good excuse to tell his wife. Syaoran hoped that he would never be like that. A gang of teenagers walked past, hairs all brilliantly bleached blonde and streaked bright blue and red. The chains clinked from their sagging pants and they tried to pull off intimidating glares. Syaoran tried to hide a smirk, idiots, you can never look cool in school uniforms.
Tokyo after midnight was like a gathering of everything society looked down upon. It was a habit of Syaoran's to stand at a street corner, silently observing his surroundings. His unusual ritual was his way of reminding himself of the imperfections of the world. His odd habit kept him in tune with reality.
But tonight, he was standing at a street corner with a purpose. He was curious about Kinomoto Sakura. His personality made him desperately want to resolve that curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, his mother had always told him. Satisfaction brought it back, Syaoran would always chide back.
Somewhere in the midst of studying wannabes and bimbos, he saw a flicker of auburn hair. After so long of studying her, he knew immediately that it was she and could have known so from a mile away.
The fact that Kinomoto Sakura had just come out from Club Tokyo had confirmed his worst fears and left him mad. Unreasonably mad.
Perhaps it was because he himself knew the state that he was in, but he did not immediately go up to her. It was only when he saw two guys shamelessly hitting on a reluctant Kinomoto that he stepped in.
He stood in front of her like a shield, fully ready, "hey, you can see that she doesn't want to, so why don't you just go find someone else?"
Syaoran could feel his blood pleasantly pumping, muscles familiarly tense.
"What the fuck? Who the hell do you think you are? Who do you think you're messing with?"
"Apparently someone who's too stupid to take a hint."
"What, you mother fucker!" the guy lunged at Syaoran clumsily, sending an ill-placed punch. It was apparent that he was all talk.
Syaoran however was not, and was already steps ahead. Years of training had made him nimble, and the punch simply landed on air. In the process of dodging the punch, he had also moved up and knocked the wind straight out of the other.
The idiot ran away clutching his stomach, following the route already taken by his cowardly friend.
Syaoran looked down at Sakura to see the beginning of a word, but something about her expression made him blow up.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT SO LATE? DON'T YOU KNOW THAT THERE ARE IDIOTS OUT HERE THAT WILL DO ANYTHING JUST TO FUCK YOU!" Syaoran blew up, his anger still very unreasonable. He didn't care anymore that he was standing in the middle of the street in Ginza, probably the most nocturnal district in all of Tokyo. He didn't know why he felt this way, and knew that under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have cared at all. But there was something about Sakura's seeming innocence that he wanted to protect, and the fact that she had just stepped out of Tokyo's most notorious nightclub and been hit on by a couple of retards just made him lose control.
You're just jealous.
"I fully thank you for your help, but I do not see how this is your business." She talked in a polite and cold manner fit for a forty-year-old, her eyes demanding and unwilling to back down.
But this made him even angrier, "GODDAMN FUCK! HOW CAN YOU…HOW CAN YOU BE SUCH A SLUT?"
He was fully expecting the crushing blow that came into contact with his check, realizing just how unreasonable he was being even before the slap. His head snapped to the side as an aftermath of the blow, and he could feel the sting numbing his cheek. He kept his head to the side, too ashamed to look her in the face. Yet he could hear from her voice that her eyes were bright with angry tears and that that comment had hit directly home.
"Don't you ever, ever…" she said in a shaky voice "call me a slut. Because shit, you bastard, YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW ME."
This outburst caused him the most surprise, his eyes widening behind his Calvin Klein sunglasses and mouth almost gaping. But she wasn't done.
"Shit, you think you have the right to go around calling people whatever you want? Listen, you bitch, you're just a spoiled little brat living in a bubble. What do you know about having money troubles? 'Course you don't, you live in a fucking penthouse in Aoyama (1)! So don't go around bitching about other people's lifestyle."
"I'm sorry, I…I'm sorry." Syaoran was ashamed. Aside from being astonished by her outburst, he also knew that she was right.
"Here, come sit…" he led her gently to a nearby café table. Kinomoto, who was far too disoriented from her outburst to complain, sat down obediently.
Syaoran allowed time for her to calm down, watching patiently as her cheeks turned from a flushed red back to her normal delicate cream.
"I..um," Syaoran figured that she didn't lose her cool often. She sighed, "I am sorry for the outburst, but that is a touchy subject with me."
"No, I'm sorry" Syaoran hurried to apologize, "but…why?"
Seeing her hesitation, Syaoran spoke up again, "no, never mind. I'm really sorry. I…let me walk you home."
He could see that she was arguing with herself. After a while of consideration (weighing the pros and cons, no doubt), she agreed.
The walk to her house was an uncomfortable one. Kinomoto remained unhelpfully silent, and a tense atmosphere shrouded the two.
When they reached her apartment, she looked up and softly asked, "do you want to come in? It's cold out, I can make a cup of hot chocolate…"
Surprised at her hospitality, he nodded, "if it's not too much trouble, thank you."
She gently put in the key and unlocked the door, creeping in silently.
"The kitchen's over there…" she whispered softly.
The kitchen was simply a part of the living room, only set apart because of the cooking utensils. The couch on the other side of the room appeared to be a makeshift bed, and all around it were her books and pens.
She, however, did not go into the kitchen or stay in the small living room. He followed her silently into the only other door (he had already found out that the one on the left was the bathroom) and saw a sleeping boy, around eight or nine years of age.
"I'm home, Touya…" she stroked the little boy's head caringly, gazing softly down at her brother's face. Syaoran relaxed, feeling content at viewing her simple loving gesture. But he once again felt curious.
"Where are your parents?" Syaoran asked as she closed the door gently behind her.
She nodded up, "up there."
ooOOoo
(1) Aoyama - an upscale neighborhood in Tokyo, it houses the rich, and in Syaoran's case, the famous.
DISCLAIMER: CCS does not belong to me. Ginza and Aoyama are actual districts in Tokyo and are absolutely a hundred percent real.
I upped the ratings because the central theme is mature (afterall, she is a whore) I'm not quite sure if we'll actually see her doing her job though...O.O
Shyt…I just realized that every brand name creates sunglasses…the first name I thought of was CHANEL and it kept on haunting me, but I just couldn't give Syaoran CHANEL sunglasses rofl. The name of it just sounded too…girly lOl.
So, one question solved, and more questions arise.
What happened to her parents? Why is she living like that? Why am I such a bad authoress?
If you want those questions answered, review xD.
Thank you all for the reviews before, though! So much for so little, you guys spoil me.