For the star-crossed lovers - Love hasn't really changed over the past millennia…Or has it?

Chapter 2

Syaoran

It was a cooling June morning, at exactly 9.30 that I met my new buddy, Eriol. I didn't know why, but I looked at my watch just then. Well, there is a reason for everything in the world. So I guess this is important for details in my story, isn't it?

I was glad to meet Eriol that morning as I just left my last best friend, Tom. Having to leave my best friends is part of my job. It is not a nice part but I believe there is a positive side to everything. So the way I see it is - If I didn't leave my old best friends, I would not have made new ones. And making new friends is my favourite part by far.

Well, that morning I was just closing the great metal door to Tom's home, walking with no direction in mind until I ended up in a place called Fuchsia Lane. It must be the wild fuchsias growing around, thus such a name. When I say here, I mean Tomoeda. I have always chosen to work in Tomoeda as it is such a peaceful and cheery village.

So, I was walking down this lane of twelve houses, looking at little children skipping, cycling and all. Delighted screams and shrieks filled the air. I suppose they are happy it is the weekend. But I don't feel any special attachment to them. You see, as a friend, I am drawn to special people.

In the first house, a gardener was watering the fuchsias and mowing the lawn. The sweet smell of cut grass filled the air. I moved on to the next door. A little girl was sitting on a toy car, making "broom…broom" noises. Of course, they couldn't see me and were oblivious of this tall guy looking down at them. I was beginning to wonder if I took a wrong turn since I still have not found any people who attracted my attention. But I felt a strange urge to continue walking down the lane. So I did.

I stopped at the ninth house and turned to study it. There were no movements in the house, a plaque beside it read "Fuchsia House." There were fuchsias climbing up and down the honey and brown bricked house. Some windows were square while others were circle. The door was a huge mahogany one, with a fuchsia-coloured window on the top and a letterbox at the bottom. It looked like two eyes and smile. I waved back to it, grinning.

Just as I was admiring it, the door was casually thrown open and a boy of about five or six years ran out. He slammed the door, causing the smiley letterbox to sway slightly. He ran into the garden and played with his toy truck and fire engine. I observed him for a while. He was nothing like Tom. Tom was quiet and polite. This little guy was loud and noisy though I have to admit he is good with the sound effects of the vehicles. Better then me, even.

He crashed the truck into the engine, causing the main driver of the engine to fall off and hit him on the forehead. I snorted in laughter. To my surprise, he looked up, staring his blue eyes straight into mine.

"Uh... Hi…" I started nervously.

"Hi," the boy replied.

I started kicking my stained rubber sole against the brick wall. As much as I loved making friends, I still feel jittery about it sometimes.

"What's your name?" I asked.

The boy thought about it, as though contemplating whether to tell me. This is what I loathe about making friends. It is that you want to be friends with someone and realise they wouldn't want the same. Because some are afraid of this, they cower behind and put on a cold façade to show as though you are not interested, so as not to get embarrassed again.

Finally, he spoke, "My name is Eriol. You?"

I shoved my hands deep in my pockets and studied the granite patterns. "Syaoran," I said without looking at him.

He smiled at me. "You shouldn't call it a fire engine, "I remarked. "Cause obviously you won't put it through fire or it will melt!"

He screeched, giggling, "Whoever puts a fire engine through fire?"

"Well, it is called a fire engine, isn't it?" I replied defensively.

Then I noticed a shiny locket by his chest. I picked it up and observed it. There was a picture of a serious-looking girl with a tight auburn bun and the brightest green eyes ever but somehow dull. To her left, was a girl with lavender waist length hair, herwindows of soul sparkling with a wild fire-freedom.

"Who are they?" I asked.

He replied quietly, pointing to the first girl, "This, is my aunt Sakura," and even more quietly, he said, "And the other is my mum. She ran away a week ago. My aunt is taking care of me."

I was surprised. Here are two sisters, different as day and night, as yin and yang. One seemed serious and in control, while the other was contented yet craving for more. I realized that Eriol seemed down. Picking up a buttercup, I rubbed it against Eriol's cheek. "You like butter. So, how can you look like a bunny without two front teeth?"

Eriol's face lit up and he giggled, though not as much as before.

"Hey, want to come in? I got the new computer game!"

And so I found myself in Fuchsia house, preparing to have pizza with olives, cooked by a woman called Sakura with my new friend Eriol.

It was great of Eriol to invite me to lunch. I mean, come on. It's my favourite food. And what's more, it is on a Friday! How can you say no to a double treat? However, I got the impression from the playroom incident that his aunt doesn't like me much. I wasn't surprised as this was the way things usually happened. Parents think putting out extra food is a waste since they will end up throwing all away. It is tricky for me. You try to eat your food in a cramped area by the side of the table while everyone stares. I felt so paranoid that I ended not eating anything.

I am not complaining; being invited for a meal is nice. But parent often say, "Oh, I do believe Syaoran isn't hungry today." How do they know? Sometimes they give a empty plate and says invisible people eat invisible food. Does invisible wind blow invisible trees? Man.

Usually, it is the mothers who talked to me. Half the time they ask a question and don't listen to my answer. They even look at my chest when they talk to me. It is so stereotypical. They think a toddler must have a shortie as a friend. For the record, I am six feet tall. As for my age, from the place I come from, it is the brain and not the body aging. So I guess my IQ must be quite high by now. Well, I haven't failed being a good friend after all.

Half an hour later, Sakura calls us for lunch. My stomach was grumbling and I looked forward to pizza. I followed Eriol down the hallway, peeking into every room. All of them are decorated with beige and white tones. So spotlessly clean that I was afraid to touch. I began to think this place isn't suited for a child. There was no loud blaring of TV, no squeaking rubber soles, or crashing of wooden blocks. Somehow, there wasn't a homely feel to it.

The kitchen was nice though. There were wall to wall glasses, which made it seem like a picnic since the sunlight was shining through and we seemed so near to the lush green grass. We sat down and started to eat.

Lunch was a disaster. Eriol was shocked that Sakura couldn't even hear me, which was no surprise and Sakura kept glancing puzzled at Eriol since she didn't think that was such a person as Syaoran and neither did she believe it when the second slice of pizza mysteriously disappeared from the huge plate. Well, 'Syaoran' couldn't have eaten it, right?

Sakura

Eriol had just finished his call to his granddad, Fujitaka, telling him about olives Syaoran had for lunch. Sakura, who overheard the conversation, smiled. She knew her dad had never understood fancy food and wouldn't know the difference from an olive to a steak.

She finished stacking the plates in the dishwasher and was standing up when she heard a voice.

"Thank you, Sakura."

"You are welcome, Eriol. And it is Aunt Sakura to you!"

"Huh?" Eriol poked his around the door. "Did you call me?"

"It is pardon, not huh."

"Pardon, then."

"I said you are very welcome."

"But I never said thank you yet. That must be Syaoran."

Sakura opened her mouth to retort but closed it again. She felt shivers down her back and sighed. Why must her dear nephew give her such a hard time?

Sakura cradled a cup of plain coffee in her hands as she sat on the kitchen stool.

"Syaoran, come on! I will let you be superman this time!" Eriol shouted from the playroom.

Sakura groaned silently.

But Syaoran couldn't move. His sneakers were rooted to the kitchen floor. Sakura had heard him say thank you. He knew it. He circled the woman for a few time. He snapped his fingers. He stamped his foot. Nothing happened. But she had replied him, hadn't she? He was greatly disappointed to know she couldn't sense him after all. He stared down at the top of her head and wondered what else he could do. He exhaled loudly.

Suddenly, Sakura sat up straight, shuddering and pulling her tracksuit top zip higher. And he knew she felt him.

Hey! It's Tock here! Thank you for your reviews! If my replies seemed a bit awkward, I am sorry. I'm not too good at conveying my feelings in words. Hees...

StarAngel02: Thanks! Do continue reading, you are partially correct in your guesses!

Cheesycraziness: Well, we are (very) new writers, so do bear with us. This plot is actually adapted from a book. It is a romance story but love isn't always everything right? It is a sad love story and there are some hints to where the story is heading in the pick-me-up lines found at the start or end of every chapter. So do continue reading!