A/N: Sorry, this chapter is kinda . . . long. I bet you were probably wondering where Sakura was . . . well, here she is! Also, a review asked if there was going to be any romance. As for that, I guess you'll just have to wait and see! Anyway, I should shut up again, so here's your next chapter!

Sakura's POV (finally)

I yawned and stretched, rubbing an eye sleepily. After a second and third yawn, I blearily blinked out the window. Hmm. Judging by the moon, it's about . . . ah, who cares? It's waaay early in the morning. No one'll be up anyway.

I stood, wrapping my blanket around my shoulders. Thirsty . . . thiiiiiiiiiiiirstyyyyyyyyy . . . thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrssttyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy . . .

Stumbling into the kitchen, it wasn't that hard to find a glass and fill it with water. I downed it, then poured another. I drank this one more calmly . . . or, that is, until I heard a faint grunt and the sound of someone picking up something fairly heavy. Frowning, I tracked the noise as I set the glass down silently. I reached for the first weapon nearby. I hefted it and burst through the door.

Immediately, I rammed into a dark figure. I made a startled noise out of reflex, and swung my weapon over my head. Upon contact there was the sound of splashing water, a stream of quiet curses and a thump as the figure fell heavily to the ground.

Still raising my 'weapon', I turned on the lamps. Then, I gaped at the intruder.

"S-S-Syaoran?! Oh my god, I am soo sorry! I thought you were a burgular . . ." I trailed off, staring.

He was sitting on the floor, an overturned bucket lying nearby. The contents, presumably water, soaked him from head to toe. A sponge sat on his lap. As he rubbed his sore head, he glared up at me. Surprisingly, the dim lamplight made his hair look like molten gold and his eyes . . .

"At least we know you and that killer broom are protecting us." He told me somewhat angrily, picking up the bucket. Apparently, he was trying to ignore me as he tossed the sponge in.

"S-sorry . . ." I flushed (why?) and dropped my 'weapon', which was the killer broom he was talking about.

"Eh, it's okay. You really got me good, though." Syaoran stood, gently rubbing where I'd whacked him again. "At least I don't have to clean up the water again . . . I think it all landed on me . . ."

"What were you doing anyway?" Curiosity did kill the cat, after all, and I was dead already. Why not kill yourself again? Not like it could hurt you . . .

"Didn't you see me slice up Futomaki's back? I was cleaning up the blood." He gave a self-conscious grin.

I stuck my hands on my hips, indignant. "You enjoy being mysterious, don'tcha?" I raised an eyebrow for emphasis, meaning I wanted my question answered, and answered now.

"That's enough questions out of you, it's my turn. Who are you, anyway?" Syaoran retorted, eyes blazing. Dammit, those eyes . . . bad thoughts! Bad thoughts!

"Sakura, as in the cherry blossoms."

"Hn. Well, Ying Fa, why are you up at this hour?"

"Got thirsty." I followed him as he went into the kitchen. "What's Ying Fa?"

"Your name in Chinese."

"And you know this . . . how?"

"I'm Chinese. Didn't you know? It's not that hard to tell. I've even got a bit of an accent from it." He shrugged. "Get your drink and go back to bed."

"All right." For some reason, arguing didn't seem to be a good idea. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"I doubt Tomoyo would enjoy a dirty bucket. Also, I can't shower until morning, so I'm at least rinsing my hair." Syaoran answered calmly, merely continuing to rinse the bucket and his hair in one of the large kitchen sinks.

"Uh . . . Syaoran . . . ?"

"Hmn?" He turned off the water, blinking at me.

"Um, I'm kinda new, and kinda . . . well . . ."

He almost smirked. ""You're lost, aren't you?"

"So what if I am?!" I snapped.

A shrug. "Then I'll see you later, as you don't seem to need my help for anything."

"Wait!" I called. He actually turned back, expression expectant. "Um, I . . . do kinda need your help . . ."

He smirked. Ooh, I could learn to hate his ego . . . "What room?"

" . . . 35." I almost growled.

Syaoran nodded. "C'mon then." He led me down the maze of halls, strangely silent. Finally, he stopped at my bedroom door (like all the other bedrooms in our hangout, it was numbered, and my number was a 35). "There."

"Thanks!" I smiled, my emerald eyes big. I could have sworn he stared at them for a moment before grinning and turning to leave.

"Oh, by the way, I'll be back in the morning for you." He paused.

"Huh? Why?"

"Exactly as I said. I'll be back in the morning for you." He turned slightly to blink at me.

"OH MY GOD, you're asking me on a DATE?!" I pulled back in horror.

"Huh, you wish. I'm taking you to my swordsmaster, stupid. If there is a raid, we could use your . . . unique broom-wielding skills."

I calmed automatically, beaming. "Sure, okay!"

He gave a small smile and left. As I climbed back into bed, I pondered over him for a minute. He didn't smile much. Seemed like he was in a shell, huh . . .

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somehow, I still managed to fall back asleep.

And I woke back up to a loud knock at my door.

"Yea? Whutizzit?" I called sleepily. "C'mon in . . . zzzzzzz . . ."

"Well, you do know how to rest up, but that doesn't necessarily help the swordsmaster." Syaoran entered, face expressionless and voice dry.

"HOEEEE!!! I'm in just my nightgown, you pervert!"

Surprisingly (not), he wasn't even fazed by this. "You didn't seem to mind last night." He tossed my blanket on top of me. Apparently, I'd forgotten it in the events of last night.

"Close your eyes!" I ordered, still flushing hotly. Syaoran crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, but still obeyed. I darted into the bathroom, clothes clutched to my chest. It didn't' take long for me to shower and dress. "Okay, ready!"

"Good, because we're already late." Syaoran opened his eyes and dragged me out of the hangout.

"Who's this swords-guy anyway?"

"His name's Clow Reed, and he was my teacher. You'll address him with respect, as he could have you skewered in less that a minute." Syaoran told me sharply as he dragged me at a swift pace. Within half an hour, we were at the dojo.

"Ah, young master Li!" a middle-aged man, bearing a strange resemblance to Eriol, jumped up to greet us. "Back so soon? You disappoint me, boy!"

"I'm not beater, Master Clow." Syaoran grinned darkly. "Though, Sakura here did give me a large enough lump with a broom."

Master Clow beamed at me. "Hello! I'm Clow Reed!"

"Wow, you're the swords-guy Syaoran made such a big deal about!" I exclaimed, excited. Syaoran groaned.

"Hmm, she looks like a rapier or normal sword." Master Clow blinked seriously at me. "How did she assault you with that broom?"

Syaoran's reply was instantaneous.

"Over the head."

" . . . um, I meant, how did she hold it?" Master Clow sighed.

"Well, it was dark and I really couldn't tell, but as far as I know she just swung it over her head."

"Uh-huhmn . . . normal sword then, a little shorter than yours . . . maybe a little thinner as well . . . in any case . . . Sakura! Come with me. Syaoran, you go search out Kohei, if you want. He should be here . . ."

"Nah, I just beat up the dummy again." Syaoran ambled off in some random direction.

"Hey! Don't forget to block the blade this time!" Master Clow shouted after him. "We'd better hurry and make you your sword. I don't want him to ruin the dummy like last time."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Heya Syaoran!" I called, struggling up to sit on the stone wall around the training ring.

He ignored me. Idiot . . . I'll just call louder.

"HEY SYAORAN!!!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs. I could have sworn his eye twitched (maybe in annoyance) before he continued to ignore me. "Hey!"

"Shh. He's focusing. That blade had better be blocked this time." Master Clow watched his former student as I looked around with (very very very very VERY) mild intrest.

"Hey, what's that heap o' junk?" I gestured to a pile of metal and cloth. Mostly it was metal. Very . . . chopped up and . . . beaten-looking metal . . .

"Oh, that. The remains of his last practice, where I forgot to order him to block his sword."

My gaze traveled to the tense Syaoran. I won't be getting on his bad side for a while . . . scary . . .

"Oh, good, he blocked the blade after all." Master Clow nodded in assurance. "This should be good."

A number of dummies appeared from nowhere (probably those very obvious holes int he ground . . .). Automatically, Syaoran started attacking.

He skipped over the first dummy, leapfrogging it. The second dummy didn't last long before he whacked it over the head. Then, he skipped the third and fourth, but defeated the fifth, sixth and the seventh with ease. The eighth was skipped, and the ninth took a little longer. The tenth took the longest, because it was the only one built to fight back. He dodged most of the attacked, looking quite focused (well, DUH!).

He jumped over this last dummy's blade, the slashed out horizontally after he landed in a cat-like crouch on the ground. Even though his sword was blocked, the dummy was sliced cleanly in half.

Master Clow sighed depressedly, and I knew I was gaping like a fish.

"Did you have to bust it this time, too?" Master Clow scolded Syaoran as he walked over to us. "Thanks to you, we're running out of that particular type of dummy!"

"Sorry." His grin was almost companiable, as if Master Clow and he were friends. "At least I blocked it like you said."

"Aaaaand you still busted it! How the hell do you do that, anyway?!" was Master Clow's response.

"Hey, I said I was sorry!" Syaoran's grin widened. "Eriol wouldn't say sorry twice."

"Eriol doesn't beat up the dummies as bad as you! Stop being so stubborn already! Go, get lost already." Master Clow's last statement was almost teasing.

Syaoran's grin remained glued to his face "If I were so stubborn, I'd not leave without a fight!" he called back over his shoulder just as teasingly as he led me back towards the hangout.

"Master Clow's your best friend, isn't he?" I beamed at Syaoran.

"Nah. he's more like a dad. Eriol's my best friend, even if he's constantly teasing me and calling me his 'cute little descendant'." Syaoran shrugged. "Can I see the sword he gave you?"

I handed it to him without a single comment. He nodded, looking it over, then handed it back to me.

"It will be a tad heavier on the left side, just so you know. I'll talk with Eriol about lessons as well."

"Really? Yay!" I grinned. but then it faltered. Only to shoot back up again, of course. "But I'm comin'!"