Everything You Want- Chapter Three

Everything you want

Witch-Mistress-Animaru

A/N: Third chapter while I’m still writing the fourth one. It pays to have a clear outline of the story, don’t you think?

The expression “figures” which I used last chapter is a shortened version of “it figures.” Just so you know. (Grins)

3: To get everything he wants

At seven that evening, Sakura descended from the grand staircase of Daidouji mansion, looking positively radiant in a Venus-cut green silk dress. Her hair hung loosely around her face, the curls gracefully swaying as she moved. She looked perfectly sophisticated, elegance personified.

Inwardly, however, she was silently cursing her cousin-cum-best friend as she nearly catapulted downstairs, thanks to the three-inch stilettos strapped on her ankles.

She clutched on the wooden railings like a lifeline as she steadied herself, cursing under her breath.

If I survive this night, I’m definitely going to murder Tomoyo.

Thankfully, she made it to the entrance hall without further accidents.

She saw Syaoran loitering by the hall, eyeing the house’s interior with apparent interest. His back was turned against her so she cannot see his face.

Then he turned, and she nearly—very nearly in her opinion—swooned.

She quite forgot how lethal his charms and features were. He looked very smooth—and casual—in his black collared shirt and overcoat, his hands in his pockets, gazing at her with a smile.

This is so wrong. He...he’s my friend, for heaven’s sake! I can’t be attracted to him—I mean, hello, I knew how handsome he was before, but—damn it, stop thinking about it!

“Are you okay?” He asked with a mild frown as her face showed the inner turmoil she felt.

“Yeah,” she marveled at how steady her voice sounded. “I’m just feeling a bit queasy in these clothes.”

“They look great on you,” Syaoran said, smiling. “But then, you’d look good even in a pair of overalls.”

She had to snort at that. “Quit pulling my leg.”

“But I’m not,” and she could see he was very, very serious. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she realized the intensity of his gaze.

This is stupid. I’m making mountains out of molehills. He’s my friend; of course he’ll compliment me. What in heaven is wrong with me? I’m reading more out of the situation than there really is. God, if he knew, how embarrassing it’d be.

“There you go again,” he murmured, eyeing her petulant expression with confusion. “I wonder what irked you, aside from Daidouji, that is. I hoped I didn’t do it, though.”

“Nothing, really. I’m just out of sorts, I told you.”

“Maybe it’s because you have no date for the evening? I’ll very much oblige you.”

He’s kidding. Of course he’s kidding. He can’t be serious!

---

As it turns out, however, Syaoran is very much serious.

There he was in his study, a few hours before, poring over some accounts, when he received the call from Daidouji.

He wasted no time clearing up his desk. In an hour, he was all dressed and ready to go.

Except that that would have made him look like an idiot eager to go on his first date.

And so he waited. Passing time was such a drag as the seconds ticked away.

Then he drove like hell to Daidouji mansion.

But looking at Sakura now, he knew everything was worth it. Just worth it, if not more.

He wasn’t even aware of talking coherently. For all he knew, he might have babbled nonsense to her and he’d not have a clue about it. He was, for lack of a better term, mesmerized.

Or maybe enchanted will do the trick.

“Uh, have you been drinking, Syaoran?” She asked softly, her eyes looking both wary and worried at the same time.

“No, of course not,” he denied quickly. I just basked in your radiance. She had no idea how lethal her charms were to a man’s sanity.

“You’re sure? Oh, dear, I wonder what’s holding Tomoyo up,” she added the last sentence as an afterthought. She was at a loss of words for the first time with Syaoran.

“Knowing Daidouji, I think she’s just trying to look her best.” No doubt so I can be alone with you.

Oh, dear, is he trying to compliment my friend through me? Sakura’s mind forgot its inner discomfort about Syaoran’s weird demeanor towards her as she thought of Tomoyo’s comment earlier.

Really, Sakura could be dense sometimes.

“She’s really taking her time, isn’t she?”

“Daidouji could be very persistent,” Syaoran clued in.

---

Tomoyo went down ten minutes later and she nearly groaned when she saw the pair downstairs laughing their heads off.

One would have to be blind not to notice they belonged together, she thought. Yet Sakura was oblivious of that fact, and Syaoran remains insecure because of that.

She took her videocam and secretly took snapshots and stolen video of the two before she revealed her presence by clearing her throat as she pranced downstairs.

“Oh, you’re done.” She very nearly laughed at the disappointed and somewhat wistful note in Syaoran’s voice.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” she said serenely, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, how do I look?” She twirled around, hoping Syaoran will remember their little plan as she did so.

“Wonderful, as always,” it was Sakura who answered, a bit airily.

Or was it sarcasm Tomoyo heard in her voice?

“Yeah, you look dazzling,” he said magnanimously albeit insincerely. She ought to kick the man in the shins. “Dazzling” was such a superficial, empty and exaggerated praise. Even an idiot would recognize the lack of ardor in such a word, said in such an offhand manner.

“Dazzling? You’re sure? What about our Sakura? Doesn’t she look magnifique?”

“She certainly is,” he said unblinkingly, unaware of her sarcasm, and that was when Tomoyo realized just how deep Syaoran had fallen for Sakura.

Now if they can only put some sense back to Sakura’s brain, everyone will be happy.

---

They arrived at Fukkusei Fashion Hall at quarter to eight. The place was brimming with bright lights and people from the upper crust of Nippon society. Women in daring evening gowns and brilliant, sparkling jewels darted from corner to corner of the ballroom. Men in expensive dinner jackets made of suede and cut in finest western style accompanied the women, their luxurious-smelling perfumes and colognes clashing all over the place.

Syaoran did not escape the prying eyes of the media as he passed. Many a gentleman shook his hand once or twice and chatted idly with him for a minute. One man even tried to push through a business deal with him in passing.

Tomoyo had her share of acquaintances. Daidouji Fashions is a most formidable brand of clothing for those with discriminating tastes. Aside from this, her looks alone made men nearly swoon at the sight of her.

Sakura did not consider herself a dazzling beauty as her cousin, but her renown as an award-winning and bestselling fiction writer has leaked through the crowd and many women made her acquaintance that night. The fact that she was related to the Tomoyo Daidouji of Daidouji Fashions only increased their clamor to get to know her.

She was, in her own way, a celebrity of a different caliber. She may not be old money, or a blue blood by birth, but she had paved her way to be among the richest of Japan.

The fact that Syaoran was accompanying her instead of Tomoyo (a form of courtesy to their friendship, Sakura thought, but how very wrong she was) didn’t improve matters. She was silently wishing for a moment’s peace when they entered the main hall for the show. Tomoyo had conveniently disappeared, leaving Sakura and Syaoran prey to prying public eyes and malicious gossip.

“Are you alright?” Syaoran whispered as he helped her sit down in the front row (it helps when your cousin is influential).

“Yes...I’m just feeling a bit queasy, like that time in the restaurant, do you remember?”

“How can I forget? You hated restaurants thereafter.”

“Wrong. I hated them even before you took me there.”

“I stand corrected.”

As they chatted, Sakura’s initial apprehension soon vanished, replaced by good-natured humor and ease. Syaoran succeeded once more in taking her mind off social niceties such as proper behavior.

“Oh, look, it’s starting,” she said almost happily.

The first set of models wore the skimpiest evening gowns Sakura had ever seen and she can’t help but point it out to Syaoran.

“...Oh, look, just pull that dress a bit more and her—” she mouthed the word ‘breasts’ before continuing—“will burst for us to see.”

Syaoran sniggered at that.

“And look at that one—I’m quite sure that one’s had a boob job. They don’t make it that way naturally.”

Syaoran refused to look anymore; his face was all too red from both her comments and from trying not to laugh.

---

Tomoyo had gone and sat on the other end of the first row, keeping a close yet unseen eye on the pair as they giggled and snickered silently throughout the first part of the show. She rolled her eyes.

How juvenile can some people get? Really, Sakura was her best friend, but she hoped she could appreciate fashion a bit more. Syaoran, however, seem to share Sakura’s conservative sentiments about today’s latest fashion modes.

Beside her she heard someone cough.

She darted an annoyed look at the pair who were now laughing their heads off over the mink selection.

It’s not a laughing matter! Why did Mom allow them to use minks?

Then a voice explained that it was synthetic mink used, formulated by cosmetologists for fashion use. She saw that the people were keener to see the sheen of the fabric now that they know it isn’t real mink from some poor animal.

She heard a cough again, followed by the clearing of a throat. She turned to see a man gazing intently at her. He had blue eyes and equally, if not darker shade of blue for hair.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said the moment she turned, and her breath caught. “I heard you are the cousin of Miss Kinomoto, the famous writer. Is that right?”

She nodded absently.

“I’m Eriol Hiiragizawa,” he held out an elegant hand. She very nearly did not take it from sheer shock. “I’m a huge fan of hers. I wonder if you can introduce us.”

The moment his message sunk in, she felt disappointment welling inside her. She immediately felt guilty. Really, it was the first time a man introduced himself to her so that he can meet Sakura, so why was she feeling resentful towards her cousin who had not the slightest idea what was happening right now?

“Oh. I’m Daidouji Tomoyo, as you already know. But...if you are...interested with my cousin, I fear you might be too late. See that guy?” She pointed at Syaoran. “He’s angling for her affection and I must tell you—”

“Whoa, wait a minute, lady,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “First of all, I’m not...that is to say, romantically inclined to Miss Kinomoto. That remains to be seen. I just wish to be introduced. So if you’re keeping a torch for that man—isn’t that Li Syaoran, her publisher? That’s interesting. Well, as I said, you need not worry. If she really likes that man, I have no wish to compete.”

But that’s just the problem! Sakura’s being too dense with him!

“Oh.” She said in a small voice. “I’m sorry to have said that. But if you must know, I really like that guy for her.”

“I’m likeable enough, I assure you.”

But you aren’t perfect for her!

And he’s perfect for you? A tiny little voice answered inside her brain.

“It’s not the point. Anyway, I’ll introduce you after the show.

---

The show ended with both Sakura and Syaoran in the best of moods. Sakura had quite forgotten Tomoyo’s disappearing act as she continued blabbing away.

“...and so I told him to get lost. That was the first time I ever did that, did you know? Well, apart from my big brother, anyway.”

Then she saw Tomoyo standing a few feet away, apparently arguing with someone. The man had his back turned on them.

“...no, I wasn’t being presumptuous. I was just warning you off, remove any false hopes.”

“See? You’re doing it again.”

“Oh, whatever. Don’t count on me on helping you with her, though.”

“I don’t need any.”

“Fine.” Sakura was fascinated. She never heard Tomoyo sound so snappish and haughty before. Then she looked up and saw Syaoran and Sakura standing near and she pulled the man with her.

All it took was one glance. Sakura’s eyes widened; she very nearly swooned.

She met the man before, she was certain.

In her dreams.

And all it took was one look in Sakura’s face to destroy Syaoran’s good mood and break his heart to pieces.

As in Tomoyo’s case.