It is the same every day.

Li Syaoran will stroll to the nearest bus stop to his university, settle down and humour himself with either reading a book, listening to a music player or simply basking in the vista of the foreign country that is gradually becoming a second home to him until his bus arrived to transport him back to his hostel. It is a routine he has adopted ever since he came to England to further his studies.

The bus stop is nearly always deserted, except for occasional passersby who habitually glance at him before continuing on their way. Syaoran has long gotten used to the curious looks tossed at him, taking in his Oriental features, his mass of dark mocha locks, and his bronze depths. He will lower his gaze, submerge himself in whatever he is doing and wait until they amble away, restoring his peace and hush once again. Strange as it is, he is never lonely. In fact, he enjoys the solitude at the bus stop, a chance to clear his thoughts and indulge himself in some craziness that he cannot quite perform in public – an activity he cannot accomplish in his shared hostel; unless, of course, he does not mind everyone else doubting his sanity.

Today, however, a stranger shows up at the bus stop. Usually, Syaoran does not take any notice, except the stranger is obviously an Asian as well. The stranger perches at the bench beside his and leans back, staying as silent as Syaoran himself. Due to social propriety, Syaoran does not stare openly at her. Instead, he glimpses at her from the corner of his eyes while pretending to be immersed in a book. Auburn hair framing an adorable face with huge emeralds blinking brightly. Syaoran wonders if she is a Chinese like himself, but makes not attempt to start a conversation.

The girl suddenly turns towards him, and he leaps off his bench ever so slightly. Embarrassed, he coughs and buries his nose into the book he is supposed to be perusing, the next moment questioning why he is being so self-conscious.

"Ano…" the girl starts, and being literate in Japanese, Syaoran immediately identifies the girl as Japanese. The girl shakes her head then seemingly to correct herself, and speaks in accented English, "I mean, sorry to interrupt you, but your book's upside down."

Syaoran stiffens, and – much to his mortification – finds that indeed, he is holding the book in reverse. He almost chokes, but by some miracle, manages to keep his cool.

"Oh, err… Domo," he stutters back in Japanese. The girl cocks her head and smiles happily.

"Hoe? You're Japanese!" she exclaims in delight.

Syaoran shakes his head. "No, I'm Chinese, I know Japanese because I lived in Japan for some time before."

The girl's eyes widen, and Syaoran momentarily hears a practically inaudible gasp.

"Is there something wrong?" he asks.

The girl starts, and stammers, "N-No-Nothing's wrong."

Syaoran remains quiet, sensing that there was something more she intends to say.

"Um, w-what's your name?" she inquires timidly.

Syaoran smiles. He is about to reply when he spots his bus coursing into view. He stands up and waves to the girl.

"I'm Syaoran. Li Syaoran," he calls out before ascending onto the bus. Before the bus tours away, Syaoran catches a brief look of amazement on the girl's countenance.

"Japan…" he mumbles to himself, eyebrows furrowing together, reminiscing back to the days when he stayed at the land of sakura blossoms, the place where he met his first love, the place where he left her behind…

"I wonder how she is now…"

The next day, Syaoran instantly falls into deep slumber as soon as his head touches the back of the bus stop. It has been especially gruelling in campus that day, and Syaoran wishes for nothing better than to recline on his bed that exact moment.

He dreams of an 11-year-old preteen with endearing green eyes, prancing about in colourful costumes that few can carry well and a long pink staff in her hand. He dreams of cards with intricate designs soaring magically in the air, glowing even in the dark. He dreams of chasing creatures with the girl, both of them collaborating to seal the creatures back into their original forms. He dreams of biding adieu to the girl, not daring to face her any moment longer for fear he would not be able to leave her.

And he hears her soft voice calling, "Syaoran-kun."

"Syaoran-kun."

Syaoran positively bounds into the air, abruptly snapping his eyes open to find a pair of jade irises peering at him.

"Your bus is here," the owner of those mesmerising pools articulates. For a moment Syaoran sits there blankly, brain powerless to process those words.

"Oh," he finally answers idiotically when the girl from yesterday points towards the looming bus before him. "Arigatou," he hastily thanks before skipping into the bus.

As the bus drives away, he recalls that he still does not know the stranger's name and an air of familiarity around her. And he ponders whether the lack of lunch has anything to do with the fluttering in his stomach right this moment.

The third day, Syaoran is anticipating for the arrival of the mysterious girl anxiously. He checks his watch over and over again, concluding that it is broken when the hands seem to have stopped moving altogether.

"Why am I so restless?" he mutters. Five minutes pass, and Syaoran discovers that a corner of his shirt is crumpled from twisting repeatedly. Ten minutes pass, and Syaoran declares that global warming is really getting out of hand considering the amount of sweat on his forehead from just sitting there. Fifteen minutes, and Syaoran is ready to strip off his shirt altogether.

Then the girl at long last appears.

"H-Hi," Syaoran greets nervously, his throat suddenly becoming very dry.

The girl beams, and heat embraces Syaoran's cheeks.

"Hi," she returns, parking herself at the bench beside Syaoran. Syaoran fought back a strong urge to slide closer to her. He pulls at his collar, speculating how to voice his next words.

"Um…" he begins, "you know, I still don't know your name."

The smile falters off the girl's face, and Syaoran muses over what he has said wrong.

"I… I don't think it matters. I'm leaving England tonight, and… we may not see each other again."

"Oh," Syaoran responds, mind shutting down all of the sudden. 'Oh' seems to be something he has been saying a lot nowadays. He clears his throat.

"Well then… It's been nice meeting you," he says dumbly.

The girl sends him the all-too-familiar grin again.

"Yeah, it's nice seeing you again, Syaoran-kun. It's been so long."

Before the full impact of her words hits him, she is gone.

That day on the bus, Syaoran clutches his chest tightly, deducing that he is really having gastric pains by the way his stomach was churning agonisingly and his difficulty in breathing.

Yet, he does not believe any doctor can cure him.

The fourth day, the girl really does not appear anymore. Syaoran fidgets at the bus stop, now craving the company of a certain someone instead of the seclusion he enjoyed once upon a time – well, more accurately, four days ago. But that is beside the point.

He mulls over why he does not recognise her right away. Perhaps he has shoved memories of her far far away, perhaps it is his mind unwilling to welcome the possibility and be disappointed.

Maybe disappointment would have been a better choice compared to the miserable compunction he feels now.

Suddenly, he perceives a piece of paper pasted tentatively onto the seat beside him. He inclined forward for a better look.

Syaoran-kun, I'll leave it to fate whether you find this or not. If you do, maybe there's a chance for us after all.

My e-mail is kinomoto_sakura a xxx . com.

Love always,

Sakura

Syaoran grinned. He cannot wait until he gets to his computer.