One Week

A/N: See how quick I can be when I want to? My lecture today got cancelled, so here's an extra-fast update. A couple of people mentioned the genre in the reviews … the story is under 'angst' because I didn't know what else to put it as! It's not really romance, and I didn't want to leave it as 'general' because it's not that either. However, I think originally I intended the plot to be a lot more angsty than it is now … Sakura and Syaoran just kind of got away from me! I'm happy to change it if people think I should – just let me know what to change it to! Also, a couple of people have asked if Sakura still has the cards … hopefully you'll catch the teeny reference here that answers that question.

And for those of you who are interested, I've put a bit of information at the end of the chapter about the longer fanfiction I've been talking about.

Saturday

He didn't have any meetings today, so it became even harder not to stroll down to the coffee shop and talk to her. But then he remembered that he still had her umbrella. He tried to convince himself that he didn't need to return it – it was only an umbrella, after all. It wasn't like it was expensive or precious or of great sentimental value. But it was hers, and she'd lent it to him so selflessly … He considered writing her a cheque and posting it to the shop, ensuring she'd have enough money to buy a new umbrella and probably a few other things besides.

He then realised he was being stupid.

Essentially it came down to this: don't go back, put the girl out of his head, and move on with his life like he'd been trying to do for the last ten years. Or go back, let her smile at him and continue to cling on to a thread of non-existent hope.

His head said no. His heart said yes. And for the first time in ten years, his heart won.

She might not even be there, he reasoned with himself as he walked down the now familiar street. It was later in the day now, much later. She might only work in the mornings, or on weekdays …

She was there, standing at a table full of teenagers and handing them their coffees from a tray.

Syaoran scowled, wondering if he should take a walk and come back when she was free to talk to him. Then he reminded himself that he was only there to return the umbrella. And it was better this way. He could leave it with one of the staff behind the till, take his coffee to go, and leave. And never see her again.

He ordered his coffee to have in.

He sat at the same table, part of him willing her to look over and see him, part of him hoping that she wouldn't notice he was there.

She was talking merrily to the teenagers now, beaming at them all and making them smile right back at her. The girls all looked happy. The boys were entranced by her. She'd always had that gift – people could feel warmth and sun and light radiating from her.

He suddenly felt inexplicably cold.

Taking care to keep his head down, he hurriedly sipped at his coffee. The sooner he got out of there, the better. He should have learned by now: people like her didn't happen to people like him.

"Hey, you."

He sighed heavily, unable to look her in the eye.

"You're later than usual, huh?" she questioned, apparently not put off by his lack of eye contact. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten me!"

The remark was so uncannily ironic that it stunned him into looking up.

"That's better!" she giggled. "So, why so late?"

"No reason," he replied. There was no reason, only that he'd been trying to fight this need to see her. He couldn't tell her that.

"Well, you're here now, and that's the important thing!" she announced sunnily, before glancing down at his table with a pout. "No croissant."

"Ah – would you mind -?"

She beamed. "Coming right up!"

He shook his head. The silliest things made her happy.

Now that he'd started looking at her, he found he couldn't stop. There was something undeniably cute about her today – and he didn't use that word, so that was saying a lot. Her hair was tied in low bunches, and she had a bright pink t-shirt on underneath the dark green apron. In fact, if he squinted enough, he fancied he could see the fine gold chain of the Key glinting around her neck.

"You've got that look again," she sighed, as she placed the croissant in front of him.

"Oh – ah – sorry," he stammered, trying to rearrange his face into a more pleasing expression.

"Silly," she said, with no real conviction behind the word. "There's no need to apologise for feeling sad."

He wanted to tell her that he wasn't sad, he was just so, heart-achingly lonely.

"How have your meetings been?" she asked, and the simple, every-day topic made the loneliness abate just the tiniest bit.

"Okay. A little boring."

She tilted her head curiously. "Do you not like your job? Is that why you're sad?"

"I –" He paused for a second. Did he like his job? He didn't even know. "It's not that, I – to me, a job isn't something that makes people happy."

She sat at his table again, a thoughtful look on her face. "Maybe you're right."

"Does your job make you happy?" he asked before he could stop himself. Somehow, knowing that she was happy with her life would make their separation seem bearable. It wouldn't matter if they were apart, as long as she was happy.

"I like it," she replied. "But you're right, it's not the job. It's the people that I work with, the customers I talk to – they're what make me happy."

He was struck by the curious desire to know more about her. "You work here full time then?"

"Oh no – well, at the moment I do," she explained, blushing slightly at his interest in her. "I just graduated from university – next year I'm going to start training to be a teacher, so I'm working here in the summer to make some money."

"I think teaching will make you happy," he told her.

She smiled, and he knew for sure that her chosen career path was perfect for her.

"I hope so."

There was a pause – not an awkward one, just comfortable silence – until she turned the topic of conversation back to him. "So, if your job doesn't make you happy … what does?"

He had no answer to that question, and he was horribly conscious of disappointing her.

"Your family?" she suggested tentatively.

He grimaced slightly at the thought of his fastidious mother and four bossy, domineering older sisters. But her hopeful smile had him thinking of his family's redeemable features – of which there were many that he rarely acknowledged – and he nodded his head. "Yes. They make me happy."

"And you must have good friends, too?"

Not any more. In Hong Kong all they were after was his money and his connections.

"And maybe a girlfriend?"

He smiled at her persistency. "No."

"You get a crinkle between your eyes –" She paused to lay a finger on his forehead, "– Right there – whenever I mention a girl." She pulled back to analyse this new development. "Did she do something bad to make you lose your smile?"

"No! Not her, she would never –" He paused, realising he was saying far too much. "It wasn't her fault."

"Well then I'm sure she'd want you to keep smiling for her."

He looked up curiously at this odd announcement, and she rushed to explain.

"Even if she can't be with you now, I'm sure she loved you and would want you to be happy more than anything." She paused, blushing slightly as she became aware of how personal she was becoming. But she forged on anyway. "I bet knowing that you were still smiling would make her happy as well."

He couldn't help himself. He broke out into the biggest, truest smile he was able to form, and she beamed back happily at the sight.

Suddenly she shrank back, biting her lip slightly. "Oh! I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

"Doing what?"

"Asking too many questions?"

"No, you're not. You're fine." He paused. "But won't you get in trouble for sitting here with me?"

She giggled slightly, covering her mouth with her hand in a cute way. "Silly. I've been on my break for the last twenty minutes!"

"You didn't have to waste your break talking to me."

She shrugged. "You looked like you needed someone to talk to."

A/N: A little bit longer this time, ne? I just thought I'd put a little note at the end about my upcoming long fic. For those who don't care (or who just like to be surprised!), feel free to skip this bit!

So … as I've said before, it's going to be a story based on a plot that dreamschemer very kindly took the time to write out and PM to me. At the moment, it's looking to be about 15-20 chapters long. And I'm going to be optimistic and say it'll be a little bit happier than this one! I'm hoping for lots of fluffy SxS moments because, let's face it, what's life without them? It will be set in the same world as "One Week", but it won't be necessary to read "One Week" in order to understand it. And at the moment, I'm planning on calling it "Void". Hopefully I will have the first chapter of it up before Christmas. I also plan (time permitting) on including a very short excerpt of it at the end of the final chapter of this fic. So … yeah. It should give me a chance to fumble around with this idea some more and answer a lot of questions that I know this fic doesn't. Hope that sounds okay!

That's enough of my ramblings. One more chapter to go, guys …