O my... not many reviews for the other chapter... perhaps it was too awful? Still... I did get a lot of hits... is there something the matter? ONLY one review... thanx A Cannon... are my stories sucky? I guess... maybe giving up sounds like a good idea like always... ha ha... but yet it sounds sooo unlike me to be giving up. I'm piped up as always! I will continue! At least one review and I'll be happy! Zero reviews... um... I guess I'll update a year later then.

CHAPTER 2: LI SHAORAN

For a second there... he thought he had seen the glimpse of a plan... a glimpse of triumph and a... miracle perhaps.

No. It was impossible. He had no plan.

It was the first time he had ever had no plan.

But... what was this assassin after?

He knew that one was after money... while another was after a several chain of people... if only he knew something. If only he knew about that brute.

At least he knew it was a lively brute. A girl.

But it was the most he knew, the most he could say so far.

A girl.

For some odd reason, the strategies it drew were quick and clever, and not too slow and muscular like a mans... and he knew this because of his cousin. And himself.

And for some reason... it brought it back... that... memory?

And then he remembered long ago, when his father had put a smoke pipe on his mouth, balanced him on one knee, and Mei-Ling on the other, telling stories about their ancestors. And then Shaoran began to cry. He cried for his father to come back, his tears feeding on someone else's happiness.

There was a little murmur on the rooftop in Tokyo, where two assassins lay awake there, talking.

"I killed him."

"Why?"

"Because he was one of them who had planned it."

The other assassin shook her head, "There were many of them who did that, what's the real reason? You still haven't told me yet."

The assassin looked away, over viewing the sparkling city. She said nothing, nothing so the other assassin would say nothing too. And so they lay there, on the rooftop, quiet and keeping to their own thoughts and peace; just as they were keeping their secrets to themselves.

Now, let us introduce a new character, Li Shaoran's cousin: Li Meiling. Someone who is far, far away, in Hong Kong, and she is sulking.

She sulks in her room where she wonders what her dear, beloved cousin is doing in Tokyo, Japan. She lies in her bed, leans on one arm, and only tastes a morsel of her food instead of a bowl. She sulks, and sulks, oh how she wished she could be there with Shaoran! Aiding him, giving him advice, there to encourage him when he was down! And, of course, to remind him she was his fiancée, and no other girl could steal him.

She sulked even more.

What if a girl had come up, seduced him away from their love! Fled away with her dear Shaoran! She ripped the sheets and bit it, shaking her head ferociously when she thought of that. And then, as she lay awake in the night, she decided. She was going to go to Japan.

She was late... again. Tomoyo was on her way to school in the limo... and she was running.

"I'm going to win Tomoyo!" She screamed out loud.

But it did no good; she wasn't going to win at this state.

There were bikes streaming down the street like a river, and cars zooming by. There was the limo...

"HI SAKURA-CHAN!" Tomoyo waved mockingly.

"I'M NOT GIVING UP!" Sakura shouted back.

But she was going to loose... no matter how much she shouted.

And Tomoyo was going to win the bet, and she was going to lose. She was going to lose her dessert for a week.

If Sakura would win... Tomoyo would lose her fragment soap, not that Sakura wanted that anyways...

She just wanted her dessert.

And the limousine was out of sight, and she was dashing toward the school.

But she was going to be late. Very late.

She was going to lose.

She was going to lose her dessert for two weeks.

She couldn't let that happen!

And then... there was a ring... and another ring...

If only she had been paying attention and had used her quick wits to dodge it that second.

Dodging that bike running straight at her.

More rings... ring... ring...

If only she had...

And then in the next second, all was blurred out and confusing as they crashed.

"I'm so sorry!" She cried out to the air.

"Hey, are you alright?"

She opened her eyes...

If she had prevented it from happening... she wouldn't have seen...

"Did you get hurt?"

...His eyes.

"I'm fine."

But it was a lie.

"Hey, you're that girl from yesterday!" He smiled, "The one that was getting a dog."

Sakura stared at him, it was... him... the... Li Detective.

"Yeah, so?" She ignored his outstretched hand to help her out.

She bent down on her knees, and then put her right leg up... but then there was a sudden jolt of pain rushing through her body.

"Owe!" She winced.

"Your ankle..." He noticed it at once, a bit too quick.

The next seconds passed by like the wind, and she was soon sitting at the edge of his bike.

"Sorry I ran over your ankle, I'll give you a ride to your school." He started to peddle his bike again.

Sakura didn't say anything, she wanted know his name... his identity... she wanted to make sure he was the one. The very one. Her enemy. She was sure already, quick instincts... he had dropped his bike the instance she had been hurt, rushed over to her... and noticed the pain in her right ankle before she did. It was all she needed to know about him... he was the Li Detective.

And what he said next... gave her a startle.

"I'm Motoko Kumai."

She could have fallen off the bike, but she couldn't have fallen for that lie.

"No... you're lying."

His reactions weren't as she had planned.

"Huh? Lying?" He seemed just as startled as she had been.

If only she had known he had practiced this many times, because she actually fell for it.

"Oh." She looked a little discouraged, but there was no point of revealing her own identity.

"How about your name?" They were drawing closer and closer to the school.

"Kinomoto, Sakura."

For some reason, there was something stirring in his memory, something he just couldn't figure out. Kinomoto... that name sounded so familiar... it sounded like it had come from his... dad?

"Well, I'll get off here." She took a step off the bike, "My wounds healed, I'll be going off now." She ran off.

He stood still with the bike in his hands, "Ki...no...mo...to..."

"Class, we have a new student." The teacher called out, "Let's welcome him to our class."

Sakura grabbed Sakura's arm as the boy stepped in.

"That's the guy who helped me win the race!" She shook Tomoyo's arm excitedly.

Tomoyo glared gloomily at Sakura, "You only won the race because I was going as slow as I could possibly go."

"Hi." The boy gave a monotonous speech, "I'm just a regular Tokyo boy who has transferred schools..."

"This is Motoko Kumai, please welcome him."

The class gave a lukewarm welcome instead.

What had brought this Li Detective to this high school? Shouldn't he be doing research and be finding the two culprits?

No matter how much the elders believed he was joking, he made it firm with his inference that the assassins might be around his age and be living in Tokyo.

And so it began... assassins sitting by a detective and blind to each other's true identities. This is where the story really begins.

Shaoran fell back into the soft pillows of his bed, his thoughts traveling back and forth to Sakura and his father. And a sudden memory struck him, the very last memory he had of his father. How he had tried to stow it away in the back of his head forever, but it had come back. Come back to remind him what he was here for.

Time for the story in the story! I'm sorry if this is all so sucky... It's hard to write in such hot weather around here... even if it is fall.

LI'S STORY

There was a rush in the air, as though we were hurrying to go to the bathroom. What the real tension was though was really happiness. It was the happiness I felt whenever my father came home. He came home every month after traveling far and wide. He stayed home for three weeks, and then left again. He brought gifts from everywhere, from India and Mongolia, and America and Japan. But the best gift he brought home was himself.

I ran down the stairs, hearing bells clashing and horns roaring. The sound of the beating drum told me he had entered the gates. My mother rushed out with my sisters, leaving me to run ahead and jump into his arms that always smelled like lavender and dust from traveling on sand and dirt. I saw the outline of a large figure with brown hair, stepping out of the horse carriage, large trunks and rugs in the back. He turned around to show me it was him: the short mustache and beard, the twinkling eyes and his shout.

"Shao-Lang!" The way he pronounced my name made me sure it was him, and then I leapt into his large, bear arms and I clung on to him which seemed like forever.

With my sticky hands still around his neck, he brought me to his sitting room where he set me on his knee, lit the wood pipe and blew out circles of smoke. He then showed his gifts, stylish dresses and furs for each of my sisters, some jewelry and new collections for my mother, and for me he had many presents. He gave me a handmade, wooden airplane since I've already gotten so many boats; a jade wolf crying out to the moon, and my favorite: the sleekest, sharpest sword I had ever gotten. And that was the day he told me it was time for my real training.

Of course I had trained with my cousin Meiling, I learned to fight and do many things, but it was all to prepare me for my true training with my father. He would give me my sword when it would be time. My father gave me my real sword when I turned seven. But then, something went wrong.

My father's friend was an archeologist and teacher in Japan, they liked to take trips and visit sites together, and they had a daughter my age. He liked to tell Meiling and me stories about the times they had together, and about our Li ancestors. He made me admire this man, his friend, since they had become such great friends. I wanted to become an archeologist like that man, and have the personality of my great father. I wanted to be a good swordsman too, and smart and thrift. So you see, I had my dreams, and most of them had to do with these two men. And then, a terrible thing happened. I didn't understand why it happened, my father could only say goodbye. All I remember is that it happened when I had begun my training.

I was so happy, energetic, and ready for this, it was the day to begin my true training. I had the traditional Li clothes, and a sheath and my sword. I sat in the garden where my father came in, in the same costume but larger and brown. He did not smile, so I did not, and then he bowed, so I did too. I wanted to be just like my father, I wanted to be like him. So, like all the other years in my life, I tried to copy him. Then he took out his sword out of the sheath in his back with his right hand, so I did too. He took it out slowly… and then out like the wind, fast and swift. So I tried too. I did not do well; I had a slash on my shoulder. But I ignored it, imagining my father had once done the same and kept going. So we began. But then, not so close to when we started, nor so close to when we would end, but in the middle, a messenger came. It was urgent, so my father had to leave me, and I was not to follow. But I did, and I felt shame when I did it, because I was disobeying his orders. Still, I did. I heard them talking through the screen door.

"Sir, he's been cornered."
My father's voice, the first time I heard him concerned and panicked, "I knew this would happen, but he was so stubborn."

I didn't understand, who were they talking about?
The messenger continued, "They've got him in his house, and his family too."

"His family? That's worse, they'll have no mercy, they'll kill them all."

And then I thought, could he be talking about his friend? The archeologist?

"What are we to do?"
There was no hesitation, my father said, "I must go to Japan immediately and help."

"With which side?"
But then I could not hear more, because the screen door flung open and my father came out. He saw me.

The moment he stepped out, the moment he looked at me, I felt dread and fear in me whenI saw his face. It was the worst of him I have ever remembered. He was mad. And I knew he was mad at me.

"Shao-Lang! What are you doing here? Did I not tell you to not follow me?" His voice was angry, furious.

I bowed my head in shame, "Yes, you did father, I'm sorry I did not obey them." And more tears fell.

He had no pity, "Boys do not cry, so do not. I must leave now, tell everyone goodbye." He did not wave, pat my head, or anything, but left. His walk as confident as ever, as though he would come back alive, but he knew that he wouldn't. There was grief in my heart as I watched him leave... grief for myself.

I went to tell my mother and my sisters and everybody he left, but what left me with sadness welled in my heart was that, he had not said goodbye to me, he had told me to go say he had said goodbye to everyone. He did not say it directly to me. Did that mean he no longer loved me? That when I had listened behind that door, it had brought my family and me shame? Was that the reason? But I could not answer my own question, and he could not either, for after waiting for so long, a month, he did not come back. And it occurred to us that he had died, and so had his friend and his family.

My life continued with training, I trained hard every day, I did not stop to think about the past or future, I trained. And while I trained, I trained for my father, no one else. I trained and did not play, because I didn't want to bring more shame on me, to make my father proud in heaven, to know that I could make up for that ear at the door. And I trained, I became smart, good, and everything he had wished for me to be. And then I became a detective, for my father, to solve that case that had killed my father. And that's my story.