Chapter Three
The Second Time's Never the Charm
Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.
After the date with Li Syaoran, Sakura was feeling quite disheartened. She decided to go home on her days off, visit her father and return to the city refreshed. She had been dropped to the train station by one of the agency's off-duty chauffeurs and here she was now, walking along the familiar streets of Tomoeda, cherry blossoms fluttering down from the treetops and kissing her cheeks.
It was the good old days again.
The yellow house that was her childhood home came into view and she ran the last steps to the gate. Joy filled her as she saw her father sweeping up leaves in the small yard.
She slid her backpack from her shoulders.
"Otou-san!"
Kinomoto Fujitaka rested the broom against the front wall and opened the iron-wrought gate. Just as he opened his arms, she ran to him, and he hugged her.
"Sakura-san."
"I missed you Otou-san," she said into his chest.
"And I've missed you."
He held her back by her shoulders and looked her over, smiling serenely. It was the one thing she needed to feel better after a long day or in this case, week - her sweet, caring Otou-san.
"What are you doing at home on a Monday?" she asked.
"My schedule at the university's changed," he told her. "I have a long weekend now."
"I'm sure you're still doing work in the basement."
Fujitaka chuckled.
"You know me well."
She pouted.
"You should go on vacation. You're always working."
"Because I love what I do," said Fujitaka. "Let's go inside."
In the kitchen, he poured her a glass of lemonade and they sat at the small dining table as she soaked in the familiar sights, sounds and scents of her home. Kero, the large golden retriever of the family came up to her and licked her fingers. His ears peeled back, and he got a dazed expression on his face when she patted his head. Her mother beamed at her from a framed picture on the table and as always, Sakura smiled back.
"You're quiet," remarked Fujitaka.
Sakura pulled her hand away from Kero's ears and the retriever rested his chin on her lap and closed its eyes.
"I was thinking, do you ever get lonely now that I've moved out?"
Fujitaka glanced at the picture of her mother.
"Not as much as you think. I work a lot as you said. Don't waste time worrying about me. Live your life to its fullest." As an afterthought, he added, "Touya-san and Yukito-san do come over from time to time."
Sakura felt a warm glow in her cheeks. No matter how much time had passed, any mention of her childhood crush Tsukishiro Yukito - her brother's best friend - did that to her.
"Would you like to help me make dinner?" asked Fujitaka. "We can make a feast of our best dishes."
Though they both knew it would not be the same without candid Touya and the ravenous Yukito, she nodded.
"Let's do it!"
That night, as they sat together on the living room couch, bellies stuffed, with Kero eating a healthy portion of leftovers in his dog bowl, Fujitaka asked, "Are you still working as a babysitter?"
"Yes, Otou-san," she answered, unable to look into his eyes for fear of him being able to see the lies written in her face. To explain her new working hours and salary she had told him she was a babysitter for an affluent family and the lie never got easier to tell.
"Is it going well?"
"Hai, but can we not talk about that now that I'm home?" she whined, throwing her arms over her face like she always did when someone had asked her about school when she was on summer vacation.
Fujitaka chuckled.
"You showed up unexpectedly. I thought something bad had happened."
She had to admire his self-control to not mention his worries as soon as she was in the house.
"Nothing bad happened," she reassured him. "Well, there was a guest who seemed to look down at my career choice. I felt a bit demeaned."
"That has happened to me as well," said Fujitaka.
"But you're a distinguished lecturer!" she exclaimed. "You have two PhDs. You're always being invited to speak at conferences!"
"Over the years, I've passed up many career opportunities because I liked teaching my students. Archaeology can seem very boring, but I've found ways to make it fascinating to my students. Even today, I have students who've taken my classes only as electives, tell me I made a difference in how they see the world. People whose only aspirations involve titles and money find it difficult to see the value in that."
Sakura leaned forward on her knees and cupped her cheeks in her palms. Her father was inspiring even to her. He probably was the closest thing to a perfect man she would ever know.
"What did you do to stop feeling bad for your choices?" she asked him.
"I never felt bad. I knew what was in my heart. I understood why I did what I did. That's all that matters. Hold your head high. You are Nadeshiko-san's daughter and she never cared about what negative people thought. Except perhaps, just the one."
"You're not negative," said Sakura.
"Children don't seem to realise that there was a time when their parents were young and dumb too."
She giggled.
"I can't picture that."
Fujitaka adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
"What you can do," he said, with a small smile. "Is come up with one or two things to say when other people try to degrade you. Nothing distasteful, of course. Just something to validate or reinforce your stance. Do you understand?"
"Hai. I understand. Arigatou, Otou-san."
"I'm proud of you," said Fujitaka, resting a hand on her back. "I don't think there's anything you can do to not make me proud. When you were younger, I didn't think I could raise a girl child on my own. But you turned into such a bright, happy young lady. It makes me feel fulfilled."
Sakura looked down bashfully.
"Hoe-eee..."
"All you need now is a husband."
She flushed.
"Otou-san!"
"I'm sure you'll have no problem."
"Otou-san, please!" she said, mortified.
She tried to get away, but he caught her hand, a soft expression on his face.
"Don't you want to get married, Sakura-san?" he asked. "You just turned twenty-four. I would think it's something you are considering."
She squinted down at the floor.
"I have thought about it..."
"And what do you think? Should I be scouting for an upstanding young man, worthy of my daughter?"
Putting her hand over face she giggled, blushing hard.
"I know some wholesome young men with bright futures ahead of them," he continued. "I could set up a few dates. If you want."
Sakura thought she would die of humiliation at any moment. She looked at him through the gaps in her fingers and saw the face of an anxious, uncertain father. Was he just as embarrassed as her to be having this conversation? It must be hard trying to be both mother and father. He had basically said as much minutes ago.
She lowered her hand, determined to act like an adult since he wanted to use his precious time for her sake.
"If you find someone, I'll go out with him Otou-san."
"I'm not pressuring you?"
"No," said Sakura.
"Dating can be stressful," he said. "I'm not trying to marry you off to check it off a list. I want you to have good experiences. Not fall for someone whose intentions are not good. Or someone who doesn't know how to treat women. I want you to have someone who cares for you and cherishes you."
"I know what you mean, Otou-san. And I really don't mind you looking out for me."
The idea of finding the person to spend the rest of her life with was an exciting one. Knowing that her father was taking charge of it made her feel like she would get the best possible choice. It was one less thing to worry about. And she would at least skip the awkward stage of bringing someone home for him and her brother to dissect and analyse.
She hugged him.
"I can't wait to meet whomever you choose. Oh, and if he looks like Yukito-kun, that would be the best."
Fujitaka laughed.
"I'll call Touya-san and see if he and Yukito-san can come over tomorrow. You can even make your world-famous cupcakes for us."
"They're not world-famous Otou-san," she said. "Only you and Yukito-kun ever say that."
"Touya-san thinks so as well but he's too jealous of your talent to admit it."
Sakura bit back a smile. Her brother was sickeningly good at almost everything he did but baking was not his strong point. She put her game face on. She would make her cupcakes just to make him feel like the inadequate vermin he was!
Wednesday morning, Sakura went back to Tokyo with a pep in her step. In the following weeks, she entertained new clients, old clients and favourite clients - one of which was an impressionist called Yamada Shoji and the other was the old man, Ebisawa Koshiro. She had grown to like him a lot and she was sure he saw her like the daughter he never had, more than anything else.
"I have three sons," he had told her on their last date. "And only one is married. None have any children yet. The youngest is the most charming but he doesn't seem capable of finding himself a woman. Do they think I'll live forever?"
"I'm sure you'll get grandchildren soon," she had said to him.
He had baulked at her optimism but went on to select names he thought would be good for his future grandchildren.
Yes. Life was going great for Sakura. She had even gone back to Tomoeda once to go on a date with a newly graduated student from her father's university. They had a few things in common and he was smart and a good listener. She considered it a good effort on her father's part though she did not think he was the one.
Yes. Sakura was flying with the birds until she was grounded by a call from Naoko asking her to come to the Hikaru House's office. The girl sounded hassled and when Sakura arrived, she was told why.
"Hiiragizawa Eriol called."
Sakura's insides twisted around each other in an instant.
Oh please, no.
"He wants girls to accompany him to a nightclub on Friday. And he insists that you come as Li Syaoran's date again."
Sakura's shoulders slumped.
"He hinted that if you didn't go, he'd seek another agency for the girls. I remember you said Li-san was awful, but do you think you can dig deep for some energy and do it? If I lose them as clients, third cousins or not, Satomi will have my head."
It was not really a question but a strong, desperate plea. Sakura did not want to get Naoko in trouble and so, she nodded numbly.
"Perfect!" exclaimed Naoko. "I'll let him know. And I definitely owe you lunch."
Sakura threw herself on her bed, bouncing lightly. What evil had she done to deserve the punishment of Li Syaoran? She hugged her pillow close to her chest, playing over his words in her mind - words that had plagued her for weeks even though she pretended she had forgotten them. How someone could be so insensitive to a person, one who was there to ensure they had a good time, she could not understand.
As to be expected, Friday night came far too quickly for her liking, but she treated her date the way one would treat the reading of a court verdict - with determined stoicism. She slipped on a white, twisted halter neckline, bodycon dress. It was mini, new and made her feel pretty. She would need the extra boost in confidence tonight, she was sure.
She brushed on a few extra coats of mascara and passed her curling iron through her hair one last time, securing the soft, wavy curls she had created. While she fussed with her appearance, she frowned. Why did she even care? It was not like Li Syaoran would appreciate her efforts anyway. And if she looked bad, he would have material for his insults which should make him ecstatic. She had already steeled herself against the word whore and even 'slut' just in case he decided to use that one instead.
"Done," she said to her mirror, pitying the girl that stood there.
Grabbing her black clutch, she was out the door and in one of the agency's sedans in minutes. She fiddled with a silver ring on her forefinger all the way to the club, barely registering when the car was filled with two other girls. When they arrived, Eriol emerged from inside the nightclub.
"Sakamoto-san, I'm very pleased you could make it," he said, leading her and the others past the two bouncers and the long line at the entrance.
As they entered the establishment - and that was what it was; not a joint or a spot, but an establishment - Sakura's senses were assaulted with a blast of j-pop music, suffocating darkness punctuated by flashes of laser lights and the bee-like hum of hundreds of voices. She edged closer to Eriol as he ushered them through the throng of animated bodies, their electrifying energy thick in the atmosphere. They went into an elevator and all sound stopped for a moment as the metal box soared upwards. It pinged open and it was sensory overload all over again. Sakura was amazed the police had not raided the establishment yet. They usually frowned on dancing at nightclubs which kept the fun-level to a minimum.
Eriol walked them down a short passageway, and past two-armed security officers guarding a door. Sakura's eyes were adjusting to the dimness around her, but they did not need to anymore. The room they walked into was quite bright. And white. The floor was black, but the walls were white, the ceiling was white and suddenly she felt self-conscious that she was wearing... white. She glanced at her fellow courtesans, dressed almost identically. No one had sent her the 'wear black' memo.
There were circles of neon-blue chairs and sofas all over the room, a long bar, an area naturally designated as the dance floor and a glass wall from where you could see the party going on downstairs. That was not to say there was no party here. It was just as vibrant as the one below. Only the people in the room were partying more extravagantly, more expensively and more sinfully. Her eyes bulged out of her skull when she caught sight of a topless girl dancing in the middle of one of the circles. All she wore were transparent panties. Men were slipping money bills into it and smacking her on the butt lightly and laughing. Sakura gawked at Eriol when she realised he was leading them over there, and her blood ran cold when she noticed that Li Syaoran was one of the men sitting in the circle.
The dancer tried to straddle him, but he raised his hand, wordlessly keeping her back. Without missing a beat, she turned away to another guy and straddled him instead, allowing him to caress her round bottom which earned him a cheer from some of the guys.
"Syaoran," said Eriol, drawing his cousin's attention to them. "You must remember Sakamoto-san."
"You can call me Ayame," said Sakura, while silently wishing she could disappear from Syaoran's piercing, judgemental eyes.
"Ayame-san," Eriol said, smiling wide. "Then you may call me Eriol. Excuse me while I go call Takashi to find out why he isn't here to partake in my boys' night out. You kids enjoy yourselves."
He nodded to Syaoran and then to Sakura's horror, he took the two other girls and left her there with his cousin! No warning. No advice on how to survive in this lion's den.
"We meet again, Li-san," she said cheerily, and she sat down next to him, determinedly ignoring the naked - or as good as naked - dancer opposite them.
Of course, he did not answer. He probably thought he was too good to associate with courtesans. But Sakura could not understand how he could be so intrigued with the stripper slash dancer and yet have a problem with her. Since she had sat down, he had not taken his gaze off the girl even for a second. The dancer was being grabbed and fondled in so many places, Sakura felt ashamed for her, though the girl was not objecting to the invasive touches of the guys.
The awkwardness of the entire situation - especially since she was the only woman in a group of men high on testosterone - became too much for Sakura. When some guys started looking in her direction, she knew that she had to get away, if only for a little while. She doubted Syaoran would be a gentleman and defend her honour.
"Please excuse me Li-san," she said, leaning towards him so he could hear her above the roaring music. "I'll be in the ladies' room."
A slight pulsing of his jaw suggested he might have heard her. It was enough however, and she was up in a blink. A few directions later and she was safely tucked away in the clean, mosaic-tiled washroom. She had no desire to leave quickly and for a while she remained there, striking up little conversations with girls who came in and helping them to take pictures with their friends. What was it with taking pictures in building washrooms, she wondered, as she snapped a picture of a twin.
The time ultimately came when she decided she should return to the party, seeing as she was not being paid to hide. She washed her hands and exited her much needed haven. She cut through the dance floor to avoid walking all the way around when she felt a light tug on her wrist. She spun around to find a guy, who seemed friendly enough, holding up his hands in surrender.
"Just wanted to know if you'd like to dance," he shouted over the music with a grin.
Almost everyone was dancing now it seemed. The guy was waiting hopefully for her reply and Sakura gave in.
"One dance?"
"One dance," assured the guy, already moving towards her.
Sakura had experienced bouts of feverish dancing behind the closed door of her bedroom, and she considered herself a fairly good dancer, but she had never done anything in public. She almost changed her mind, but she remembered that tonight she was Sakamoto Ayame - a cool, assertive woman who did things Kinomoto Sakura would only dream of. She raised her hands above her head and started rolling her hips from side to side like a girl next to her was doing. She may even have done a few moves she had picked up from the dancer earlier though she might die before willingly admitting that one.
"Nice," drawled the guy into her ear.
Flushing, encouraged, Sakura turned her back to him. He grabbed her hips and pulled her into him. On another day, she would have pushed him away, but the music had infected all the blood rushing through her body, and it made her bold. It was liberating dancing there with him, a stranger, who was decent even though they were dancing so close, with the most suggestive body language she had ever spoken. One dance turned into two and two into three, and then she lost count. But seriously, how could you keep count when the DJ was constantly swapping out one hit song for another?
Sakura spotted one of the courtesans she came with walking across the dance floor and that brought her back to the moment and the reason she was in the club at all. She did not want to get all sweaty anyway, and she could already feel a cool layer of perspiration on her skin despite the chilly air that filled the room. She told her dancing partner goodbye and he reluctantly let her go, winking at her as she left, making her giggle.
She had barely taken ten giddy steps when the sight of Syaoran striding towards her, stopped her in her tracks. He raised his hand as he neared her and pressed her clutch into her hands. Sakura looked down at the item, thinking it was becoming a habit of hers to leave it with him.
"Thank y-"
She whipped around and stared at his back as he headed to the washrooms. He had not even paused to accept her gratitude! Sighing, she briefly debated with herself before the masochist in her decided to go after him. He had been kind enough to bring her things to her, and one good act did deserve another...usually.
Sakura stood outside the male washroom, in the dimly lit hallway and waited for him. It did not take long before he pushed open the door. He froze when they came face to face. She shifted uneasily, recognizing that she must seem creepy standing there, waiting for him without his knowledge.
A guy was behind Syaoran, so he stepped forward to let him pass, forcing her back against a wall. Sakura studied his perfectly sculpted profile as he watched the guy drifting drunkenly from the hallway. The ends of his hair around his face held flecks of water and there was a slight twitch of his lips and a shake of the head when the guy stumbled over his feet. For a moment, in his glee, Li Syaoran was like everyone else. A sudden, irrational desire to reach out and draw her fingertips down the cheek of this seemingly untouchable man swept over her. But no. She would not do that. Everything about him, from his scowls to his crass words, warned her not to. He did not even let the dancer straddle him and he seemed more inclined to that girl than he was to her.
Alone in the hallway at last, Syaoran turned to her, a mocking gleam in his eyes.
"Do you offer washroom concierge service too, courtesan?"
"No," said Sakura, already preparing herself for the worst. "I just thought I'd wait for you and we could go back to our seats together. That's all."
"You didn't seem too concerned with getting back to your seat ten minutes ago."
Her stomach sank. Had he seen her dancing with another man on his time?
"T-that guy asked me to dance," she explained. "I thought it'd be impolite to refuse."
"Thinking doesn't seem to be your area of expertise."
Sakura gave a shaky smile.
"My elementary school maths teacher would agree with you."
Syaoran's eyebrow raised at the unexpected self-deprecation. She averted her eyes and shrugged, hoping that would be the end to his taunts. Heaven must be on her side tonight because there was no retort, mean or otherwise. He just stood there, trapping her between the wall and his sturdy frame. She nervously ran the tip of her tongue across her lips and to her amazement, Syaoran mirrored the motion, his eyes fixed on her mouth.
Suddenly, her heart was a fluttering mess. She could not help it. He may be rude and uncouth but Syaoran was an attractive man and he was staring down at her with a deep, all-consuming look that could make a nun blush. And it was like she was a ten-year-old again, in the presence of her crush Yukito. Her face heated up, her breaths grew shallow and a warm tingle ran up her spine. It was remarkable what happened when Syaoran kept his mouth shut. And yet, she had to hear him speak to remind herself that he was nothing like Yukito.
"Li-san?" she called, breathlessly.
He was close. No one was around. If he wanted to, he could do almost anything with her there. That thought should have scared her, but all Sakura felt was a cautious kind of curiosity. How would it feel to be held by him? Feel his body against hers? Would he put as much passion into it as he did whenever he glared at her? Why was she thinking these things? This was Li Syaoran. He was a bully. Right? Right. It was unnerving that not a single part of him was touching her and yet, she could feel him all over her skin.
"Maybe we should..." She struggled to find the words. For some reason, Syaoran nodded like he was agreeing to her unfinished suggestion. But how could he know what it was? She shuddered. "Maybe we should... get back?"
The words hung in the air for a moment, unanswered. Syaoran's head gave a startled jerk. He blinked like he had just snapped out of a daydream. Whatever force that had been holding Sakura's body in place broke, and she sagged against the wall. Her heart beats pounded in time to the wild music around them as she wondered what he had just done to her. She was winded and excited all at the same time.
She ventured a peek at Syaoran from under the cover of her bangs. He was stoic, biting down on his molars so hard she could see the muscles in his jaw flexing. He took two controlled steps back and ran a hand through his hair, casting a withering look at her. Before she could find out what she had unknowingly done to anger him this time, he was heading down the hallway, back towards the dancefloor.
Unconsciously tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, Sakura collected herself from the glare he had sent her and followed him back to their seats. She made sure to keep several feet behind him.
To her dismay, a second dancer had joined the first. The girls were gyrating against each other and when Syaoran sat down, the new dancer crawled towards him and gave a solo show, twisting her body and flipping her hair. Sakura pursed her lips. This really was a boys' night out indeed.
A tall hostess came over to collect empty glasses.
"Anything for you and your date?" she asked Syaoran, balancing the wares on her tray.
He gestured for Sakura to order, his gaze focused on the girl feeling herself up between his knees. Sakura noted he was observing his show with as much concentration as he had used when they were alone only moments ago in the hallway. That bothered her somewhat, but she pushed the thought from her mind to answer the hostess.
"I'll have the house sake cocktail, please."
"Great choice. Coming right up!"
Syaoran leaned back on the sofa and Sakura made up her mind to take the opportunity to speak to him since he was acknowledging that she existed. Ignoring the fact that the dancer was unfastening her bra with deadly slowness, she leaned over to him.
"Li-san, forgive me if I'm being rude but why did you invite me here if you have other women to... entertain you?"
"You're Eriol's guest. Not mine."
"Oh..."
His gaze on the dancer intensified as her bra came off and he undid the first two buttons of his black shirt revealing a sliver of smooth chest. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and flexed his fingers. Was the girl finally affecting him? Sakura gave a silent huff. Was that what she had to do for him to be pleasant? Strip?
"So... you don't want my company?" she asked.
"Obviously not."
Sakura chewed on her bottom lip, digesting that.
"Does Eriol-san know this? I mean, he wanted me to come just for you."
"He likes to irritate me," Syaoran told her, stiffly. "That's the only reason you're here."
The hostess brought Sakura her drink and she quickly took a sip. It was sickeningly sweet compared to the sour atmosphere between her and Syaoran. She knew it was her job to endure a negative disposition to a point, but it was difficult not to take the things he was saying personally.
"Have I offended you somehow Li-san?"
"That too is obvious," he replied, as the dancer rocked to her feet, her full, naked breasts swinging gently as she rose.
She was working her hips like a belly dancer and like the first girl, attempted to straddle Syaoran but he held up a hand sharply and shook his head.
"It's not obvious to me," said Sakura, her cheeks growing hot from the scene she almost witnessed. "Please tell me, what have I done?"
She drank half of her cocktail in silence, waiting for him to answer but he never did. She eventually grew tired of watching him and the dancer watch each other, so she looked away. Yet all that changed was that she was now watching the other dancer grinding against the thigh of one of the guys opposite. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Syaoran pull his wallet from his back pocket and hand over two 10 000-yen notes to the dancer who accepted it with a huge grin.
"Sure you don't want a lap dance?" she asked. "I won't mind if you get a little touchy-feely."
She peered down her nose at Sakura.
"But it looks like you're getting a much happier ending tonight," she said.
"We haven't agreed on a price yet," said Syaoran. "How much would you pay for her?"
Sakura, who had been taking a long swallow of her drink, choked.
The dancer stood akimbo and cocked her head to the side, looking at Sakura, who was wiping sake from her chin.
"She's cute. Doesn't look like she knows much though. But hey, if you're going all the way, I'd say... fifty thousand yen?"
Syaoran shot a pointed look at Sakura and she could see the amusement in his eyes. The girl basically said she was worth just under five hundred USD, way less than the hourly rate Eriol was being charged.
"You can leave now," said Syaoran, and the dancer picked up her bra and walked away with ballerina grace. Maybe she really was a dancer - in the traditional sense of the word.
Syaoran's expression grew pensive as he continued to ogle Sakura at his leisure. In response, she clamped her knees together and wrapped her arms around her body, looking everywhere but at him. When she felt his gaze hit her bare thighs, she set a hand on the hem of her dress, to prevent it riding up further.
"Demure all of a sudden?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his words. "Move your hand. For twelve hundred dollars an hour, I should at least be able to look at you."
Obediently, Sakura did as Syaoran said, wondering how he could make her feel so cheap so easily.
"Our resident professional says five hundred dollars is reasonable. What do you say?" he asked.
Sakura straightened her back. She had the perfect, well-thought-out answer for him.
"You can buy my time Li-san. But nothing more."
She expected him to scoff, maybe even laugh.
"I'll give you ten thousand dollars to spend a night with me," he told her. "An intimate night, courtesan."
Sakura gasped – both at the price and the offer.
"No!"
"Twenty thousand then."
She shook her head. What was wrong with this man? Why did he enjoy tormenting and toying with her this way?
"This is inappropriate," she said. "The rules are not to ask for - if you do… they won't work with your anym-"
"I don't care about your agency's rules. I won't die if I never see you again. Fifty thousand."
"Li-san."
"One hundred thousand."
Sakura gaped at him. She could practically see yen notes raining from the sky. Would he really pay someone so much to spend one night with him?
"So that's your price?" Syaoran gave her one last once-over. "Higher than I expected."
Sakura's eyes burned and the corners of her mouth turned down. She knew he was going to make her cry again. She felt it rising up her chest. Li Syaoran had no limits to the insults he threw her way. No matter how considerate she was, he made it a point to belittle her in every way he could. But she could not be mean to him like he was to her. It was not in her to be that way at all.
"I'm sorry that I'm here Li-san," she told him, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. "I don't understand why you hate me so. Whatever I did to offend you, I'm sorry. I swear you'll never see me again. Even if Eriol-san calls and begs, I'll refuse to come. Even if I'm at risk of losing my job, I'll refuse to come."
With that, she set down her drink, made sure to gather her clutch and left his presence. She made for the elevator with wobbling legs and a mild thumping in her head. As the doors closed in front of her, a hand slid between them, making them snap apart. For a crazy instant, she thought it was him, but it was Eriol. She quickly wiped her eyes.
"Is something the matter?" he asked.
Sakura shook her head, unwilling to answer.
"Please, let me know," said Eriol.
Sakura's eyes soared to the elevator ceiling, and she blew out, calming herself and keeping her tears at bay.
"Your cousin doesn't like me. He's very rude. And cruel. And-" She placed a palm over her forehead. "Please don't do this again. I really tried but maybe you should choose someone else for him next time."
"Syaoran can be a reticent, emotionless bore," said Eriol. "But cruel? Absolutely not."
"I think he hates women."
"That I don't believe. Syaoran's the kind to help an old lady cross the street. He doesn't hate women. I'm sure."
Sakura wiped at her eyes again.
"Then with all due respect Eriol-san, maybe you don't know him as well as you think you do?"
Eriol extended a hand to her.
"Come. Let's go confront him. We can sort things out."
She recoiled.
"I'm sorry. But there's really nothing to sort. He was quite clear about his feelings. He doesn't want me here."
Eriol's hand fell to his side, and he looked genuinely remorseful.
"Is there anything I can do to make things up to you?"
"May I leave early?"
"Of course. Allow me to call you a taxi? Your chauffeur wouldn't be here yet."
"Thank you."
She closed her eyes in sweet relief, knowing that in the next hour, Li Syaoran would be nothing but a bad memory.
