Chapter Two
A Real Prince Charming...
Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.
Sakura sat on the small, cream sofa in her living room, massaging the soreness out of her feet. She had been out with one of her now regular clients last night - an artist named Yamada Shoji. He was young and talented but somewhat socially inept. She did not mind though. They got along well, and she was always ready to fill the awkward gaps of silence. It was one of the reasons he took her on dates. He did not like the strange stares he got whenever he was out on his own and he needed a buffer of sorts for when he could not think of something clever to say - or when he was being a bit snobbish about his work which turned people off.
As far as Sakura knew, she had no appointments today, so she was looking forward to curling up on her couch with a good movie and some hot chocolate. She tingled just thinking about it. She would have preferred to go out with friends somewhere, but she had lost contact with many of her high school classmates as most people did when they graduated. Making new friends when she had gotten to Tokyo had not been easy since everyone was busy, and now that she was working at the Hikaru House, she was too tired during the day to put in the effort. Besides, she was getting to know some of the other courtesans and sometimes - like she had with Kazumi - she went on dates with them as well.
She got up to make her hot chocolate when her cell phone rang. She picked it up off the coffee table.
"Moshi Moshi," she answered.
"Ayame," came Naoko's voice, pleasant and professional. "Hope you're well. I'm calling to let you know you have a group date this evening."
Sakura put the kettle to boil and flexed her toes behind her, feeling the tenderness extend to her heels.
"What time?"
"Tonight. Eight-thirty."
"Okay."
She would still have time to curl up on her couch.
"I'll send a car over for you at seven," said Naoko. "I'm anticipating some traffic later. Oh, and you should know that it's a dinner date with your clients' business clients."
"Okay," said Sakura, already heading to her closet to find something appropriate.
It was shocking how easy it had been to adapt to going on dates almost every day. Being a little lonely in Tokyo, they gave her an opportunity to socialise and get out of her own head for a while. Her tiredness began ebbing away at the thought of what restaurant she was going to be taken to that evening and pure excitement took its place.
Sakamoto Ayame always had the most fun.
That evening, Sakura found herself standing in the waiting area of a four-star Japanese restaurant with two other courtesans she had met previously. She did a quick inspection of her look in front of a round mirror hanging above one of the sofas. Her makeup was natural-looking – a professional had taught her to apply it. Stepping back to see better, she twisted and turned, in her dainty high heels, running her hands over the velvet material of her ruched midi dress. The black, off-shoulder item with its sweetheart neckline hugged her figure like a glove, but the sultriness of it was balanced by its conservative long, fitted sleeves. Sakura moved aside to give another courtesan a chance and the girl took her spot with a knowing smile.
From where she stood, Sakura could see men and women coming up to the reception desk, done up with refined restraint. Farther off, there were many more patrons eating in the magnificent, sparkling ballroom, chatting without a care in the world. The different scents of sweet and spicy perfumes and the delicious aromas of flowers and food tangled around Sakura, and she breathed it in greedily.
What was it like to be born into such opulence? Such glitz and glamour that it made your head spin?
"You three lovely ladies must be my guests," said a young, dark-haired man as he approached them. He wore a Western-styled suit, frameless round glasses and a distinguished smile. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Hiiragizawa Eriol."
One by one, the girls introduced themselves and he kissed the back of each of their hands in turn. It was like he was some English prince, and they were princesses visiting from another land. When his cool lips touched Sakura's skin, a flush ran all the way up her hand to her cheeks and steam flew out her ears. He held onto her hand as he gazed at her, observing her with the concentration of an artist.
"And how are you this evening?" he asked.
"Fine, thank you," said Sakura, her throat and mind suddenly constricted.
Eriol glanced back at the other two courtesans, then back at her, deciding on something in his mind. Slowly, he released her hand as his smile widened to show a perfect row of teeth. Sakura had the startling impression of the Cheshire cat she had read about once in that children's book, Alice in Wonderland.
He bowed to them all.
"I apologise. I was momentarily rendered speechless by the presence of so much overwhelming beauty," he said, captivating her once more. "Please, follow me."
He led them down a wide hallway, its walls decorated with a mural of a thriving Japanese garden. White, sparse clouds, pine trees, cherry blossom petals and koi fish in a pond burst to life with such shocking quality that Sakura felt somewhat off-balanced as she moved along the two walls. Doors punctuated the hallway on either side and Eriol stopped at one on the right. He pushed it open and stood aside for them to walk in.
Sakura squinted. The soft purple glow of the recessed lighting was a stark contrast to the hallway. Immediately, her eyes were drawn to the wall of live jellyfish at the back of the dining room. She gasped softly, her eyes wide with wonder and Eriol smiled at her. She returned the smile as he gestured outwards.
"This way, please."
There were four, onyx-black tables in the room, all surrounded by pristine white chairs. Two young men sat at one of the tables, on the side of the room where the jellyfish pulsated up and down, their tentacles trailing behind them with dangerous grace. One of the men - the black haired one - was talking very animatedly to the other who was sipping a drink that could have been whisky or brandy.
"I have returned with our guests," said Eriol as they walked up to the table.
The black-haired one stood and greeted them, still laughing over something he had just said to the other.
"Ladies, this is Yamazaki Takashi," said Eriol, sending one of the girls over to him.
He sat the other girl in an empty chair and turned his attention to the other man. This one, brown-haired with a strong profile was sipping his drink like he had not noticed their arrival. Sakura could be slow at times, but she was not so slow as to not realise who she was being paired up with. She had secretly hoped it would be the debonair Eriol and she almost pouted when she realised the other courtesan's luck.
"Cousin," Eriol said to the man. "This is your date. Sakam-"
His cousin set his glass down sharply on the table. Sakura winced, sure that he had cracked it and alcohol would be spilling soon. Chin dipped low, he angled his narrowed eyes towards them, his jawline tight. Sakura took a half step back. She glanced at Eriol, but he did not seem daunted at all. In fact, he had the air of a parent watching their child go through an unnecessary tantrum.
Takashi was already engrossed in a conversation with his date, but his eyes flicked from Eriol's cousin, to Eriol, her, and back to Eriol's cousin again. He parted his lips and his entire demeanour suggested that he was going to say something placating but Eriol picked up where he left off.
"This is Sakamoto Ayame," he said, totally disregarding the cutting gaze being delivered his way. "Sakamoto-san, this is my favourite cousin, Li Syaoran."
Li Syaoran did not so much as blink in her direction. His deep brown eyes and thick eyebrows were quite menacing, and Sakura had to wonder where he got the energy from to sustain such a piercing stare. The way his hair fell softly into his eyes and framed his handsome features she was sure he would be even more good-looking if he lost the glare and smiled a little.
Sakura looked over at Eriol again, this time with barely concealed embarrassment. Never had she had a client react like this. They were usually friendly, sometimes too friendly but Syaoran was dismissive and glacial. Ever the gentleman however, Eriol walked around her and pulled out the seat next to Syaoran. Thanking him, she sat as he pushed the chair in.
Recovering from the shock of his crass behaviour, she turned to Syaoran and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Li-san."
The only thing that told Sakura that he had heard her was the brief pause of his hand on his way to take up his drink. He put the glass to his lips and sipped, staring straight ahead. And she watched him. The smoothness of his movements, the refined manner in which his fingertips gripped the glass, his sophisticated bearing and the way his dark, Chinese-styled suit fit it like a second skin.
Li Syaoran licked his lips and sucked on the bottom one, letting it go with a soft smack. He set the near empty glass back down, his fingers still clutching fast to it. A second later, his gaze snapped to her. Sakura's breath caught in her throat. Even though he was looking at her from the corner of his eyes, he still had enough force to lock her body in place.
When he had glared at Eriol she had been afraid, but now that his attention was on her, her pores raised in a not completely unpleasant way. He was used to being in charge, being obeyed, being the only thing that mattered, and it was painfully evident in his arrogant posture. A quick shiver ran through her. What was it with him and these looks? She averted her eyes, cheeks warm with self-consciousness.
Sakura let out a slow stream of breath, her heart racing. She was aware of every breath she took, of each time her chest rose and fell, and in her peripheral vision she saw Syaoran ignoring her again. She leaned back in relief. Why was she so on edge? It was not like it was the first time she had met someone rude.
She ventured to look up after some time and found Eriol engrossed in conversation with his date just like Yamazaki. In her own little corner with Li Syaoran, she felt like he did not even want her to breathe. She was about to reach for the glass of water on the table, when Syaoran stood.
She stiffened, looking up the tall length of him. Was her drinking to wet her parched throat too much movement for him to ignore? Was he going to leave? Such wild thoughts and yet, he was not concerned with her. Not at all.
He was focused on the entrance that Eriol had led her and the other girls through earlier. His business associates had arrived. The three older gentlemen must have been in their fifties, but their dates were about her age. Without a doubt, hired arm candy.
Introductions were made thanks to Eriol who seemed to relish that duty with the pride of a poor man cleaning his one good pair of shoes. Sakura was surprised he remembered all the girls' full names and when he said hers, she lit up. Throughout dinner there was little to say as the clients were speaking about their business with egotistical enthusiasm. Occasionally, they and even Eriol and Yamazaki, would say a word or two to their dates but Syaoran was disregarding her like she was but a fly on his windscreen.
Even when she looked at him, her face open to start a conversation with him, willing him to give her a minute of his time, he would simply glance at her with disdain before turning his attention back to his guests. Had she done something to upset him? She ate her plate of food meekly as she tried to figure out if she had broken some etiquette rule. One look at him had told her he was Chinese. She tried to remember things that they considered offensive, but she could not think of one she had done that night.
Eventually, Sakura struck up a conversation with the arm candy who sat opposite her. She had a heart-shaped face, a dimple in one cheek and was quite the talker.
"I just returned from a week-long trip to Italy. It was sublime. I think I'll make another trip there next month. You haven't eaten pasta until you've been to Italy."
"Is it really that good?" asked Sakura, hanging on her every word.
"Oh yes." She leaned forward and touched Sakura's ear. "I adore your earrings."
Sakura too touched the sapphires with her fingertips. The old man, Ebisawa Koshiro, had given it to her on their last date.
"They were a gift."
The girl grinned.
"Gifts are marvellous, aren't they?"
She held out her wrist, turning it about so Sakura could see her bracelet.
"White gold with diamonds."
"It must have cost a fortune," said Sakura, looking at it in awe.
"To some it is a fortune," said the girl returning to her meal with a smirk. "But I wouldn't know those types, would I?"
She gave a coy shrug before turning her gaze on Syaoran. She sat up straight and moments later, was staring at him with the most sensuous expression Sakura had ever seen. He caught her gaze and did a double take. A mischievous glimmer was in the woman's eyes, and he was not looking away. Was that what he liked? Unbridled, confident sexiness? Satomi always said play to your strengths and that definitely was not one of Sakura's.
Syaoran's left hand slipped under the table and as he looked down the table at Eriol who was speaking, he gave a good shove. The woman tipped back in her chair as Sakura heard what sounded like flesh hitting stone. She glanced under the table and saw toes slipping into a nude pump. She glanced around. Everyone but her, the woman and Syaoran were aware of all the footsie action taking place.
Despite Syaoran being less than thrilled with her, Sakura felt a rush of indignation. One minute the girl and her were on good terms, the next she was interfering with her date?
"Perhaps the ladies can leave us for a moment," said Syaoran.
Sakura cringed at the way he said ladies - it was bordering on sarcastic. But then she realised something. It was the first thing she had heard Syaoran say all evening. Though she was certain he was in charge, Eriol and Yamazaki were the talkers. And when they had ordered dinner, he had let Yamazaki do that for him.
The businessman who was with Ms. Footsie, frowned.
"Why? Are we discussing something confidential?" he asked.
He had a paunch, thinning hair and a very plain, round face. Without the money it was clear his date would not give him the time of day and maybe that was why he did not seem keen on separating himself from her. He had made it and she was his proof. Kazumi had told her, after their date with Koshiro, about these types of men - the show-offs.
"Business bores women," said Syaoran, his Chinese accent peeking through his deep, rich voice. "It's too heavy a topic."
Sakura frowned like the businessman. Was he trying to say they were stupid?
"Let us allow them to escape it for a while," he finished, with a tone of finality.
"I agree," said one of his other guests. "If my wife was here, she would be sitting there and silently condemning me to hell within the first five minutes of dinner."
"Would you all like to go into the lounge?" asked Eriol, the one who kept the ball rolling. He signalled to a waiter without waiting for any replies. "Please show these lovely ladies to the lounge."
Sakura stood and glanced down at Syaoran. He still refused to truly acknowledge her. Silently, she followed the line of women to the lounge. It was just as beautiful as the dining area. There was a bar along one wall with a spectacular array of alcoholic beverages to choose from. There were huge floor-to-ceiling glass windows through which you could see the lights of Tokyo traffic and the other towering business buildings and hotels.
Sakura ordered a cocktail at the bar and chatted with the girls from her agency. She was glad to have a good conversation after an uncomfortable dining experience with her client. An hour flew by in a minute and Sakura went back over to the windows to survey the city. She swayed slightly to the soft pipe music being played as she sipped her second cocktail of the night.
"Hey you."
Sakura turned to find Li Syaoran walking towards her with the intensity of a military lieutenant.
"Li-san," she murmured, stepping back from his gigantic presence.
In the brighter lounge lighting, she could see he was even more handsome than she had realised. He was the kind of guy who would make girls drool regardless of his attitude. It was not typical in her job as she had been told, to meet someone who was both as young and good-looking as he was, with as much money as he probably had. This novelty unnerved her or perhaps it was the fact that even in four-inch heels they were not at equal eye-level. Or perhaps it was the single expression of aloofness he owned in its entirety.
"You left your clutch," he said, holding out the gold accessory to her.
Taking it, head tilted in curiosity, she said, "Most men just call it a bag or purse."
Syaoran did the impossible and stared at her with even more venom than he did when they met. A waiter passed and she handed him her drink just to have something to do other than burn under Syaoran's gaze.
"I have a lot of sisters," he told her, glancing out the window.
"Well thank you for bringing it to me," she said, squeezing it in her hands.
Sakura stepped up beside him and gazed out at the streets below. It was a shame to be so finely sculpted as he but have such a rotten temperament. She did not ask to be here. He requested her company. Standing there in silence with him, she wished she still had her cocktail. She needed something to calm her nerves because he was setting off each one like he held their triggers in his hand. Yet, she felt obligated to make the date work. She did not want him saying something bad about her to Satomi.
She drew a deep breath.
"How many sisters do you have, Li-san?"
"Quit while you're ahead," he said, his gaze fastened to the metropolitan scenery outside.
"What?" she asked, not understanding his abrupt words.
"Fakes smiles and feigned interest," he said, voice cool but harbouring a layer of iron underneath. "You can stop now. You already did your part."
"My part?"
"You showed up. You looked presentable. You're probably articulate. But the show is over. Quit pretending."
Sakura's insides turned to cold slush.
"I-I'm sorry. Li-san...I didn't mean to sound - it's just that I'm here for a while longer and I thought-"
"How much do you cost?"
A brutally straightforward question asked in a viciously punitive way. Sakura looked around sheepishly. Where was someone, anyone, when she needed them? No one had ever asked her that before. He should know. The unexpected question, one she never discussed with clients made her feel low for the first time since she had started dating them.
"I…"
Syaoran turned to face her.
"You don't even know?" he asked, tone slightly mocking.
"Twelve hundred."
Syaoran raised an eyebrow.
"USD?"
"Hai."
"A night?"
"An hour."
His brows lifted for a split-second before his eyes narrowed dangerously. His gaze whacked Eriol from across the room so hard the man spun around like he had been stung in the back. Seeing it was Syaoran looking at him, he gave a huge grin and held up the drink in his hand. A silent, "cheers." Syaoran's jaw muscles flexed.
Sakura had taken his divided attention to regain her composure.
"You think it's too much?" she asked bravely.
"It depends," said Syaoran, turning his gaze back to her. "What do I get for all that money?"
"Companionship."
"You're a very expensive friend."
She swallowed the lump rising in her throat.
"Well... I can go anywhere with you and I will never make you look bad because I know how to carry myself in a range of situations. When you want to see me, I'm there and when you don't, I will go away. I don't want a romantic relationship with you. As a result, you'll never have to worry about me ever wanting something beyond what you're willing to give."
Syaoran stared and Sakura was proud that she was able to hold his gaze. Though, she really had just given him her version of the Hikaru House Mission Statement.
"Your madam taught you well," said Syaoran, his features darkening. "But I know exactly what you are. I used to play hide and seek with my father's favourite mistress. "
"I'm not a mistress. I'm a -"
"Courtesan, oiran, geisha, mistress, whore. What's the difference?" Syaoran loomed over her, like the shadow of an eagle covering its prey. "You can dress it up however you like. You are what you are. All women like you have a price for which you'd get on your backs. And men like me have deep pockets."
Sakura's lips trembled. Why was he being so mean? Her legs were shaking in her heels and her head started feeling light. People never spoke to her like this. Like she was something rather than someone.
"Tell me. What's yours?" he asked.
"Mine?" she murmured.
Syaoran leaned forward, brown eyes drilling into hers.
"Your price."
"Ano..."
"You're unsure?" prodded Syaoran. "Or is that service included in the twelve hundred?"
Sakura blinked back tears, her face hot with shame.
"It's not included," she whispered.
"Speak up. I can't hear you."
She cleared her throat.
"I said, it's not included." Her nails sank into her clutch. "I don't do that."
"And pigeons don't fly." Syaoran was eyeing her with disgust. "What's next? You're not a day over nineteen?"
Silence.
"I'm not lying, Li-san," was all Sakura could manage to say. "I don't do that."
"You are either in perfect denial," he said. "Or you truly believe this reluctant routine is working for you. Stop playing games. Tell me what I can do with you."
The walls were closing in on Sakura and the air must have thinned because each breath was becoming more laborious than the last. She was not a piece of meat to be flipped over, prodded and poked anyhow he liked. But she could not tell him that because he was just too fast with his insults.
"It's like pulling teeth," he said, half to himself, eyes hard with contempt. "Let me ask in simple terms you can understand. Do I finish in your mouth, between your legs, or… someplace more suitable for your profession?"
Sakura's face crumbled. The dam on her tears broke and she took two steps back before turning and fleeing the lounge. She passed the dining room and ran back into the hallway with the garden mural. Hand over her mouth, she fell forward against a wall and cried.
Why did he have to say those things? She was not that kind of girl. She would never sleep with someone for money. Those eyes of his looked at her like she was filth and worse, they made her feel that way too.
A waiter came out one of the hallway doors and she quickly turned her back on him, her breaths coming out shaky. As he passed however, she felt a tap on her arm. Wiping her eyes, she looked up and found him with a tissue in hand. Grateful, she took it.
"Where are the washrooms?" she asked, hiccupping.
He told her and she made her way back into the dining room and turned into a hall where the washrooms were located. She put her clutch on the counter by the pipe and ripped more tissues from the dispenser to dab at her eyes, willing herself to breathe evenly. She cleaned up her makeup with quivering hands, all the while wondering why Syaoran hated her on sight. He had practically said that she did everything right so why was he being so cruel?
Satisfied with her appearance, she still waited fifteen minutes for her red eyes to return to their usual colour before she went back to the lounge where all the men and their dates were still mingling. Sakura was not sure if she should return to Li Syaoran or not, but she was robbed of the decision when she saw him in an armchair, off alone in a corner, smartphone pressed to his ear. He was occupied and that was entirely fine with her.
"Sakamoto-san," called Eriol, walking up to her at the bar when the evening came to a close. He took hold of her hand. "Thank you for your company. Syaoran enjoyed it."
Was he joking? Yamazaki, who had come over to refill his drink must have thought the same thing because his face screwed up in scepticism.
"Syaoran-kun doesn't speak much to people he doesn't know well," he said, almost like an apology. "But you made it."
Eriol smiled.
"Yes, she did." Raising her hand to his lips, for one of his enchanting kisses, he said "It truly was a pleasure, Sakamoto-san."
He was a little eccentric, this man, in the way he spoke and behaved, but he sure knew how to treat a lady right.
"The hour is late. May I take you over to Syaoran so you can let him know you are taking your leave?"
"Hai," said Sakura, even though her inner self was holding tight to the bar's countertop, kicking and screaming.
Striding up to Syaoran as he finished his call, Eriol nodded to her.
Sakura said in one breath, "Goodnight, Li-san. I found the evening enjoyable, and I hope you did too."
He stared at Eriol blankly. Not a nod, nor one word escaped him. Determined to be the more mannerly one, Sakura bowed low even though he was not looking at her.
"Care to join Takashi and me?" asked Eriol. "We're escorting the ladies to their car."
Syaoran made a sound of derision in his throat, his face coming to semi-life with scorn.
"I'll pass."
"Must you be a spoilsport, dear cousin?"
"Eriol. Go away."
"He pretends he doesn't love me," said Eriol to Sakura. "Yet, he does. Very much. Don't you cousin? You wouldn't have half as much fun if I wasn't around."
Syaoran went silent again. Eriol, smiling like his cousin had professed his undying love, rested a hand lightly on the back of Sakura's waist.
"Shall we?"
As they left, she could not help but twist her neck slightly to see what his cousin was up to. Li Syaoran was staring out the window, moonlight bathing his features, chin settled nonchalantly against his knuckles. He was like a Greek marble sculpture. Cold and unmoving but entirely pleasing to the female gaze.
