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Five. Syaoran Li
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Syaoran Li was Hong Kong royalty, Sakura learned a few days later; his family practically owned half of Asia—it seemed that Sakura had been the only person in Manchester who has not heard about the Li family. Apparently, Syaoran was the youngest of his siblings but the only male, making him the apparent heir of the family fortune. His father died many years ago, leaving Syaoran next in line for the reigns of the kingdom. His mother was a formidable woman, who has remained the head of the household since his father's death but it was rumored that this was only until Syaoran came of age.
When Sakura recounted the story of the night, drunken puking mess and all, over the weekend, Tomoyo had laughed. "Way to make an impression, Sakura!" she exclaimed giggling.
Sakura rolled her eyes. "I'm classy that way," she replied, blushing.
KT tried to be consoling. "At least you didn't throw up on him," she had said. "I wouldn't worry about it. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, you drank, you got sick. It happens all the time."
"Yeah, I know," Sakura sighed.
Tomoyo shrugged. "Sakura, I've held your hair when you were throwing up several times, and I've helped you clean up. Believe me, it's not that bad."
"Yeah, we've all been there before," KT agreed.
Sakura thought that she might be paranoid. She always worried too much—he brother kept telling her that. "I guess it'll at least make a good story," she said to her friends.
On Monday, Sakura bumped into him in the hallway between third and fourth period. He waved hi, giving her a small smile. He was looking very handsome and preppy in a checkered sweater and khaki slacks. Sakura flushed and walked away. She was still too embarrassed by the whole Halloween incident to do anything about it.
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The Li family owned one of the most well known Queen Anne style houses in New England. It was recently featured in Home & Garden. It was one of the only genuine 19th century Queen Anne's in Manchester. Currently, Sakura was told, Syaoran lived there alone with his butler.
Sakura had been surprised when she found out about this. Sakura knew the house well. It was some way down the street from her own home. She drove by it often, passing it her whole life. It had been unoccupied for most of the time she remembered and the house remained dark and inhuman—the way that homes get when their owners were away for too long, like it was soulless.
Like most houses in Manchester, it was big enough to be a small mansion. But its strange shingle Queen Anne architecture had imprinted itself upon her memory. The house looked like it was the setting of some old Victorian novel. The house was painted a dark blue; it had such an irregular shape that it looked like it had been expanded upon several times throughout the last century. Its asymmetrical shape made it difficult to discern exactly how many floors there were, but there were at least four. The most striking features were the large turret on its right, giving the impression of a medieval castle tower, and the wrap around porch.
Sakura remembered that whenever the house was occupied, there would be lovely white wicker patio furniture set out on the long porch and beautiful potted plants would hang from the porch's ceiling. The house almost looked like a home. But its occupants would never stay too long; a few weeks during the summer and the house would be deserted again for years. Every now and then, Sakura would catch a cleaning service at the house; no doubt dusting the unused furniture and changing the untouched sheets. The grounds were kept pristine by a hired gardener who came every couple of weeks, so the house never looked abandoned.
Sakura had always been puzzled by this. Queen Anne houses were notorious for being very difficult and exorbitantly expensive to maintain. Why would a family bother to upkeep a house and its grounds when they never lived in it?
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"I heard that his family already arranged for him to like marry the Japanese princess after he finished college," Emma told her on Wednesday. Her loud whispers were heard by half of their AP English Language class. Sakura glanced around her classmates; talking about other people always made her nervous. But Emma was always one for good gossip and half the time Sakura didn't know what to believe.
Tomoyo, sitting on Emma's other side, rolled her eyes.
"I'm serious!" Emma exclaimed in another loud whisper. "The Fieldings take annual ski trips with my family and Daniel had done business with the Li Clan in Hong Kong, you know, something about trying to get into the Asian hotel market." Emma recalled confidently. Daniel Fielding, father of the Fielding twins, was the COO of Bergstrom Luxury Hotels and old family friend of the Thompsons.
Then Emma lowered her voice even more; an astonishing feat for a gossip monger. In a dark tone she said: "Daniel said he had been through martial arts training since he could walk and he could kill in ten seconds flat. That's why he had to leave Hong Kong. He got into a fight with some boys at his old boarding school and nearly killed someone. In order to hush it up, his mother sent him away. Why do you think he lived alone with his butler?"
Emma looked decidedly pleased with herself having shared her little secret. Then she added, "So be careful Sakura."
Now Sakura rolled her eyes. "Why should I be careful? It's not like he knows me or anything. We barely talk; we met exactly once and I almost threw up all over him. There's nothing to be careful about."
Emma smiled wickedly. "Oh I wouldn't know about that," she sing-songed. "I saw him staring at you all through lunch today."
Red rose to her cheeks. "He did not!" Sakura angrily whispered without knowing why she was angry. She immediately looked to Tomoyo.
Tomoyo merely shrugged and said softly, "Sakura honey. You have to give yourself a little bit more credit."
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On Thursday, after a long afternoon at cheerleading practice, Sakura took a detour on her way back home. She drove pass the dark blue Queen Anne house, looking foreboding against the surrounding grounds. Unsurprisingly, most of the windows were lit.
Sakura wondered about Syaoran and the Li Clan, about his formidable mother on the other side of the world, about his other life somewhere far away from Manchester, about his schoolmate who almost died and about the city of Hong Kong: busy and alive and mystifying.
She wondered if he ever felt homesick for his mother, like the way Sakura felt sometimes: a deep heaviness in the back of her throat, like she was missing something she would never find. She wondered what he was missing.
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Author's Notes: I feel like all I do is apologize in these author's notes and I'm afraid I am going to apologize again. Over a year later, here is finally an update. I do hope you liked reading it.
For the few of you who still follow my stories, I feel as though I own you an explanation. I am currently in my third year of college; it has been busy, crazy, full, amazing and I barely had time to sleep or eat. I plan on finishing this story, so look out for hopefully more frequent updates. Although I make no iron clad promises (who knows what might come up?), but the plan so far is to update every other month (I hope, I hope!). All these years in the CCS fandom had made these characters so familiar to me; especially being an avid fanfiction-er. It's hard for me to give these characters up because they represent so much for me—a piece of childhood really.
I feel like through writing this story that I've gotten to "know" Sakura and Syaoran better. The few of you who still follow my stories—thank you, it means a lot to me—will know that I write almost exclusively ExT. I do hope sincerely that in the end, I will be able to do these wonderful characters justice.
It's been a while. I wish you all well.