Chapter 49.5: Words We Couldn¡¯t Say

(Christmas Story Prequel)

 

 

Li Syaoran, former Chosen One of the notorious Li Clan of Hong Kong, currently resided in Tomoeda, Japan, living the life of a normal teenage boy, stressed by exams, occupied with extra-curricular activities such as soccer and the journalism club, and struggling with time management and social commitments. At least, his life was as normal as can be, considering that his chief companion, a pet dog of tan-colored fur and pointed ears, named Vega of Lyra, a.k.a. ¡°Wolfie-chan,¡± was formerly a dark force. Together, they started each morning by jogging around the neighborhood at the break of dawn, followed by Syaoran¡¯s martial arts training, and then warm down.

 

Meanwhile, his next-door neighbor was a former thief-turned-classmate, with the pseudonym of Mizuki Kai. In fact, his ex-criminal neighbor was probably the greatest source of nuisance to Syaoran. Not only did the former Thief of the Night insist upon blasting hard rock music on his 5.1 surround sound speaker system in the still middle of the night, but he also seemed to think Syaoran¡¯s apartment was his second home, casually dropping in and out for mealtimes every day. Somehow, Kai always knew when Syaoran had prepared a meal, and popped up from the kitchen window with his pet parrot. Today, his naturally white parrot, named by Meilin ¡°Perro-chan,¡± sported a crimson Mohawk. Leaning back on the chair and tapping his foot impatiently, Syaoran glared at Mizuki Kai who like every evening invaded his kitchen during dinnertime. Not only was Kai a freeloader, expecting Syaoran to cook and feed him, but he never stayed long enough to do the dishes.

 

Helping himself to another bowl of rice as usual, Kai stated, ¡°How come you¡¯re not eating? The vegetable stir-fry is delicious! Then again, I think you should have some meat—we¡¯ve had vegetable all week. I¡¯m getting sick of it.¡±

 

Containing his irritation, Syaoran said through gritted teeth, ¡°If you¡¯re getting tired of my food, why don¡¯t you make your own meals?¡±

 

¡°Arf arf!¡± echoed Wolfie-chan, yapping at Kai¡¯s ankles.

 

Kai jumped up on the chair and swatted at the puppy with a rolled up newspaper. ¡°Shoo, shoo.¡±

 

¡°Grrr¡¦¡± Wolfie-chan growled.

 

¡°Syao-kun, get this beast away from me,¡± Kai yelped, sunglasses skewed. ¡°Anyway, you know I can¡¯t cook for the life of me. No matter what, Syao-kun¡¯s cooking is the best, next to Mei-chan¡¯s. So now, good doggy. That¡¯s right. Good boy. Go back to daddy.¡±

 

Wagging its tail, Wolfie-chan trotted back to Syaoran¡¯s seat and jumped up onto its master¡¯s lap. Absentmindedly, Syaoran petted the puppy¡¯s head.

 

Resuming his meal, Kai asked, ¡°Anyway, has something been on your mind? You¡¯ve been flipping through your account book and sighing a lot lately.¡±

 

Slant-eyed, Syaoran remarked, ¡°Since when have you been so observant of my behavior? Is it a new pastime?¡±

 

¡°Nay, my friend. Only following Mei-chan¡¯s orders and keeping an eye on you,¡± Kai replied, setting down his chopstick next to his clean bowl of rice and patting his stomach. ¡°When she was here, Mei-chan was concerned about my constitution and insisted upon feeding me a healthy portion of protein every day. She¡¯ll cry when she finds out I¡¯ve been living on grass for the past weeks.¡±

 

¡°Ew! Ew!¡± screeched Perro-chan.

 

¡°Heh, then we can have fermented beans tomorrow,¡± Syaoran said crossly.

 

¡°Really? I like fermented beans,¡± Kai declared brightly. ¡°Beans have iron in them, which is good for replenishing red blood cells and¡¦¡±

 

Turning green, Syaoran mumbled to himself, ¡°I forgot this is the guy who can drink spoilt milk without realizing it has gone bad.¡±

 

¡°Mei-chan¡¯s doing fine back in Hong Kong. She says the atmosphere is really tense with the restructuring of the Li Clan; you know, the Great Elder is ill, so the Elders are waiting for him to name the new Great Elder—they¡¯re expecting it to be Li Wutai,¡± Kai said, twisting the heavy silver rings on his long fingers. Teasing the wolf-boy was his favorite pastime, now that Meilin was gone.

 

¡°Uncle Wutai?¡± Syaoran repeated in ill-hidden contempt. ¡°He¡¯d be pleased—he¡¯s been vying for that position for at least a decade now.¡±

 

¡°On top of that, the Inner Council needs to nominate a new candidate as the Chosen One,¡± Kai said, looking up at Syaoran expectantly, over the bridge of his sunglasses. ¡°Meilin told me not to say this, but you do know that your name has been stricken from the Book of Li, don¡¯t you?¡± There was a deliberate pause.

 

¡°That¡¯s nothing unexpected. Anyway, you seem to know a lot about the internals affairs of the Clan,¡± Syaoran finally remarked, pretending to be disinterested.

 

¡°Well, aren¡¯t you worried about it? With everything going on at the Clan; it was bad timing, the Great Elder falling ill, you forfeiting your title, the global economy in a decline, the busy holiday season coming¡¦¡± Kai trailed off, unable to decipher Syaoran¡¯s expression. He¡¯s shocked, definitely, yet he¡¯s taking it better than I expected. At least pretend to be interested in what I¡¯m saying. ¡°You didn¡¯t even tell Sakura yet, did you? That you¡¯re no longer the Chosen One.¡±

 

¡°That¡¯s not important,¡± Syaoran replied, twirling a pen around his fingers and crossed out the figures on a notepad. ¡°What¡¯s important is that I chose to remain here. And I told Sakura so.¡±

 

¡°So¡¦ That¡¯s not what you were worrying about?¡± An eyebrow quirked and Kai leaned back on his chair, stretching out his long legs.

 

Believe it or not, family matters are the last of my worries these days. Good riddance, how does that former thief seem to have so much leisure? Syaoran said, ¡°Kai, this is an odd question to ask a thief, but where do you get your daily living from? You¡¯ve returned most of the jewels you¡¯ve stolen, and hopefully you haven¡¯t sold the Five Force treasures.¡±

 

¡°Ah, I see now!¡± Kai clapped his hands together. ¡°Money problems! Why, did mommy cut your allowance again, because she¡¯s mad at you for not coming home?¡± He snickered, mimicking Syaoran, ¡°¡¯I only joined the Best Couple Contest for financial reasons.¡¯¡±

 

¡°No, it¡¯s not a matter of docked allowance,¡± Syaoran replied grimly. ¡°They¡¯ve cut off all my credit cards and suspended my Hong Kong bank account.¡± ¡®They¡¯ clearly meant the Elders. Or more like the Li Clan accountant, his second uncle¡¯s third son. Luckily, he also had a secret personal account in Japan, which in the end didn¡¯t amount to much.

 

¡°Ouch, that¡¯s harsh,¡± Kai commented. So, the Elders were serious about punishing Syaoran, after all. ¡°The Li Clan¡¯s loaded. No need for them to be so stingy.¡±

 

¡°I need to find a job I guess,¡± Syaoran said, crossing his arms. When would he find the time? He was already overbooked. And he was sure Sakura and her friends would laugh, if they caught him working at the ice cream parlor, wearing a pink and white shirt with a red ribbon around his neck. Not that this was a time to be vain. If they thought he would return to Hong Kong once money ran out, they were mistaken.

 

¡°You can join the business—you did a fair imitation of the Kaitou Magician last time,¡± Kai stated, whipping out a rose and throwing it up the air. The petals showered down, then transformed into a top hat which landed on Syaoran¡¯s head. ¡°Code name Kaitou Wolf.¡±

 

¡°Very funny. I thought you¡¯ve retired from your ¡®business,¡¯¡± Syaoran said, snatching off the top hat and picking out a red petal from his tea disdainfully.

 

¡°Dear Syao-kun, from what I¡¯ve seen in life, those who try to earn a living through earnest means to do not get very far. All their life, they struggle, soak in sweat and toil, but what for? It is always those who use crooked means, if not blatantly dishonest, that survive in the end,¡± Kai stated, his cross-shaped earrings glimmered. ¡°Fraudulence enables you to survive, never honesty and hard work.¡±

 

¡°So, how do you earn your living, besides thieving?¡± Syaoran asked dryly. ¡°As a con artist or something?¡±

 

¡°That¡¯s a simple question,¡± Kai stated. He slipped out laptop and placed it on the table, facing Syaoran.

 

Skeptical, Syaoran eyed the blue screen full of charts and graphs. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±

 

¡°Stock market!¡± Kai replied as a matter of fact.

 

Coughing, Syaoran demanded, ¡°That¡¯s it? You invest in stocks, and that¡¯s how you have enough money to buy an apartment on your own, travel around the world and buy all those ridiculous videogames?¡± Why am I not surprised to learn that Kai would feel no guilt about living off others¡¯ losses?

 

¡°Excuse me—the only means of surviving in this capitalistic society is through investment and vision; it takes talent to do well with stocks,¡± Kai stated, cracking his knuckles. ¡°And maybe this pro can teach you the knack of buying and selling stock and analyzing the quarterly trend.¡±

¡°No thank you,¡± Syaoran said. ¡°I think I¡¯ll stick to my honorable means of earning a living, futile may it be. I don¡¯t plan to invest what little earnings I have in my account for a venture that may collapse the next day.¡±

 

¡°So, you think stocks are too complicated?¡± From his sleeve, Kai conjured up a stack of cards, which he shuffled magnificently mid-air, then deftly caught them on the palm of one hand. ¡°How about trying your hand in gambling? One lucky deal, and you can secure yourself for the next decade. Viva Las Vegas!¡±

 

¡°Or you can end up on the streets without a stitch on,¡± Syaoran muttered. Stupid of him to ask Kai for advice. Either way, he had to pay the apartment rent, the electricity bills and phone bills, not to mention the cost of groceries and basic necessities. Furthermore, holiday season was approaching, and he wanted to save up enough money to buy Sakura a nice present, yet at this rate, he would be broke. He definitely needed to find a job.

 

Not heeding to the fact that Syaoran was no longer listening, Kai rattled on, ¡°Or you can work at a host club.¡± He leaned over the table and stared intently at Syaoran¡¯s face. ¡°Even I acknowledge you¡¯re a bishounen, and ladies pay well at host clubs, especially for such a cute boy like you. Of course, you can always try your luck with modeling—that¡¯s a little harder. You might not make if far because of the fierce competition, unless you go into the underground business and—¡±

 

¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be getting back?¡± Syaoran sighed, having reached his extent of tolerance with Kai.

 

¡°Nah,¡± Kai scoffed. ¡°I can stay for desert. Or you can try car racing— you put on quite a show in Tokyo with the police cars chasing you—and the F1 models are super hot, and if you gain popularity¡¦¡±

 

¡°There will be no desert tonight,¡± Syaoran interrupted, eyebrows twitching in irritation. ¡°Maybe I should start charging you for all the meals you freeload off me. That will be a start.¡±

 

¡°Perro-chan, it¡¯s time to go back!¡± Kai said, jumping up far too readily. ¡°Let¡¯s go back and do some math homework!¡±

 

¡°Oui oui!¡± Perro-chan replied flapping after its master.

 

¡°Finally some peace,¡± Syaoran muttered, leaning over on the kitchen table after he heard the door click. ¡°I guess it¡¯ll be the ice cream parlor after all, nee, Wolfie-chan?¡±

 

¡°Arng¡¦¡± Sympathetically, Wolfie-chan rubbed his wet nose against Syaoran¡¯s hand.

 

¡°The striped shirt is bad enough, but I really hate the red tie and matching visor,¡± lamented Syaoran. ¡°Though I guess I¡¯m not in the position to complain.¡±

 

******

 

The next day, Syaoran, one time foreordained future leader of the Li Clan, immediately began his first job search in the real world.

 

¡°Excuse me, is it necessary to wear that hideous pink-and-white striped shirt?¡± Syaoran politely asked the manager of the 100 Flavors Ice Cream Parlor.

 

¡°Do you want the job or not?¡± the manager barked back.

 

A bell rang at the door, and Sakura, Tomoyo, and a bunch of their girl friends entered the store.

 

¡°Ah¡¦ no¡¦¡± Syaoran replied hastily, ears turning red.

 

¡°Look! It¡¯s Li-kun!¡± Chiharu exclaimed.

 

¡°Syaoran!¡± Sakura waved, smiling. ¡°Did you come here to buy ice cream? Did you try the new Strawberry Marshmallow Cloud Deluxe?¡±

 

¡°Eh? Yes¡¦ Igottago¡¦¡± Syaoran dashed out of the store, leaving everyone puzzled.

 

¡°What¡¯s wrong with him?¡± Miho asked, licking her orange flavored sherbet.

 

¡°He used to do that a lot,¡± Sakura murmured, gigging as she licked her cone. ¡°I thought he finally got over that habit.¡±

 

Holding up her camcorder, Tomoyo stated, ¡°I¡¯ve more clips of him dashing off the scene like that than making a cool appearance.¡± Tomoyo didn¡¯t particularly think the ice cream parlor uniform was flattering; if Syaoran was searching for employment, she hoped that he might as well find a place with a nice uniform. Or maybe she could custom make him one.

 

 

 

Next, Syaoran tried the local fast-food restaurant, Happy¡¯s. Their manager was rapid-talking, very excitable and sprayed spit when he spoke. Carefully, Syaoran stepped back. This was a job he wanted even less than the ice cream parlor job. It demanded long work hours, was low-paying, and the kitchen reeked of cheap corn oil.

 

¡°You can start working anytime!¡± the amiable Happy¡¯s manager declared. ¡°We¡¯re always short of workers around this time of the year.¡±

 

Trying his luck, Syaoran asked, ¡°And do I have to wear that hideous red-and-white-checkered shirt?¡±

 

¡°Of course, it is our uniform!¡± the manager declared.

 

From a corner of the restaurant, Syaoran heard a familiar, haughty voice, ¡°And you won¡¯t guess what Eron told me! He said that I can¡¯t date you because you¡¯re a college student and too old for me! How old-fashioned! It¡¯s like he¡¯s my grandfather or something, not my twin!¡± A girl and a guy burst into laughter.

 

¡°Oh no,¡± Syaoran muttered, looking around rapidly for an exit. Good, Erika hadn¡¯t noticed him yet—she was completely absorbed with a tall guy with glasses and a pile of books.

 

¡°Here¡¯s your shirt!¡± the manager said, thrusting a putrid checkered red shirt at Syaoran¡¯s face. ¡°You can get changed and start working right away!¡±

 

¡°Ah, I¡¯m sorry¡¦ I¡¯ll think about it,¡± Syaoran stammered, before rushing out the backdoor.

 

¡°Eh? But this beautiful uniform is free!¡± the manager exclaimed, waving it in the air.

 

 

 

Syaoran had a bit more luck at the convenience store. The owner was friendly and very sympathetic.

 

¡°Nope, there are no uniforms. The dress code is pretty relaxed here. A neat, clean appearance is all that is required,¡± the owner stated. ¡°And the hours can also be negotiated. The work shouldn¡¯t be too difficult; basically I would need you to help with moving boxes, shelving, and managing the cashier. Hopefully, you are proficient in accounting.¡±

 

¡°Math is my favorite subject at school,¡± Syaoran replied. Finally a decent job!

 

¡°Great! You can start working right away. Kinomoto-kun! Show the new part-time worker around,¡± the owner called out to a tall young man stacking up cartons.

 

¡°Kinomoto?¡± Syaoran¡¯s eyes rounded. No way¡¦ Out of all places! ¡°Ah, excuse me¡¦ Please let met think over this job. He bowed, then rushed out of the store. Out of all places, Kinomoto Touya had to work at the convenience store! And here he was, thinking that he finally found a decent job. So much for that!

 

 

 

Several blocks away, Syaoran could finally catch his breath. He sighed; so much for finding a job. What bad luck he had. Maybe he should just put aside his obstinacy and return to the ice cream parlor.

 

Walking out of the bakery, Yukito, carrying a cake box and a bag of pastries, spotted a gloomy Syaoran. ¡°Li-kun, what are you doing here?¡±

 

¡°Good afternoon, Tsukishiro-san,¡± Syaoran said sighing. He wondered how Yukito could always look so happy. If only food could cheer him up like it cheered Yukito-san.

 

¡°Are you worried about something?¡± Yukito asked, tilting his head in concern.

 

Well, it¡¯s worth a try. Yukito-san knows a lot about the job market, for he¡¯s had quite a few jobs over the past years. ¡°Actually, I¡¯m looking for a part-time job, but I haven¡¯t had too much luck so far,¡± Syaoran admitted.

 

¡°I see. But you must already be overloaded with schoolwork, soccer practice, and volunteer service at the hospital,¡± Yukito said, munching on a meat bun.

 

¡°Tsukishiro-san and Kinomoto-san could handle multiple part-time jobs when you were in high school,¡± Syaoran said.

 

¡°Let¡¯s see¡¦ But I didn¡¯t have any extra-curricular activities back then¡¦ though we did help out a lot in various activities. Touya did soccer too, now that I think of it. Well, he was saving up money to buy a motorcycle. And I just took jobs because Touya did. It¡¯s kind of funny how similar you are to Touya, now that I think of it; he was always top of class and soccer captain too.¡± Yukito smiled. Not to mention overly protective of Sakura.

 

At the suggestion of any remote similarity between Touya and himself, Syaoran scowled.

 

¡°I know. There¡¯s a suitable job for you.¡± He fumbled around in his pocket for a business card. ¡°You might want to try here.¡±

 

Syaoran took the business card and read it. ¡°La Seine? Isn¡¯t that the high-class restaurant in downtown?¡±

 

¡°Yes. It¡¯s really selective in choosing waiters. But the wage is good, and the working conditions are suitable. And you can only work in the evenings, right? It¡¯ll fit your schedule,¡± Yukito replied. ¡°Actually, I work there right now, so I can speak in your favor to the manager.¡±

 

¡°That¡¯ll be great,¡± Syaoran said eagerly. This was better luck than he had bargained for. ¡°Thanks a lot, Tsukishiro-san.¡±

¡°Any time, Li-kun,¡± Yukito replied. He dug into his white paper bag for another meat bun. ¡°Do you want a meat bun?¡±

 

¡°No thank you.¡± Syaoran shook his head politely. The best way to show his appreciation was to let Yukito-san enjoy his food.

 

Looking rather relieved, Yukito bit into the steaming white bun with the seasoned, juicy meat oozing out of the sides. He licked his lips. ¡°Food always cheers me up!¡±

 

 

 

The manager of La Seine was a menacing, plump man with a curling moustache, and a booming voice. ¡°How old did you say you were, kid?¡±

 

¡°My name is Li Syaoran, and I¡¯m¡¦¡± Syaoran stared at his feet; luckily, he wasn¡¯t wearing his school uniform. With camel-beige woolen half-coat over dark brown trousers and a beige cashmere scarf casually swung over his neck, he looked older than a junior high student. ¡°I¡¯m a senior in high school.¡± He could pass for one; he was tall enough.

 

¡°Eh, you don¡¯t look 18,¡± the manager said, twirling his moustache. ¡°What work experience do you have?¡±

 

¡°Umm¡¦ Modeling. Babysitting¡¦ Professional mercenary¡¦ Bodyguard, violinist, actor, math tutor¡¦¡± Syaoran mumbled, still staring at his feet.

 

¡°Eh, what did you say?¡± the manager asked, picking his ear.

 

¡°Uh¡¦ None,¡± Syaoran said, louder.

 

¡°Humph.¡± The manager circled around Syaoran. ¡°You¡¯re good looking enough. Well, we¡¯ll put you on trial for a week. Be prepared to be dedicated and civil. Remember we are a restaurant of reputation and dignity, and we must always please the customers. You can get started right away. Tsukishiro-san, show Li Shoaling to the kitchen.¡±

 

¡°Li Syaoran,¡± Syaoran corrected underneath his breath. ¡°Oh, are there uniforms?¡±

 

¡°Uniforms?¡± the manager snickered. ¡°You won¡¯t be needing no uniform yet.¡±

 

The first night, Syaoran was stuck washing all the dirty dishes, mountains of greasy dishes which didn¡¯t seem to diminish, as well as carrying out the trash and mopping up the kitchen after working hours.

 

¡°Where are the clean silverware?¡± barked the manager. ¡°Li-kun, hurry up with the dishes!¡±

 

¡°Don¡¯t they have dishwashers?¡± Syaoran grumbled, scrubbing harder. He had never seen more dirty dishes in his life. This was worst than when his four sisters made him wash all their clothes by hand when the laundry machine was broken.

 

¡°Do I hear someone complaining?¡± questioned the manager asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

 

¡°No sir, everything is washed,¡± Syaoran said, proudly presenting the neat, gleaming stacks of dishes and bowls.

 

¡°Good, now go sort the trash and take them outside,¡± the manager.

 

¡°Disgusting,¡± Syaoran muttered, tying the smelly plastic bag and lugging the heavy load outside to the dump. ¡°Is this really what I have to do to earn money?¡±

 

¡°It¡¯s always hardest the first week,¡± Yukito said, patting Syaoran¡¯s back sympathetically. Yukito was a waiter, so he hadn¡¯t been able to supervise Syaoran as much as he would have liked to. ¡°It gets better.¡±

 

¡°Really?¡± Syaoran said flatly. He reeked of the kitchen, his hands felt numb from all the scrubbing, and since he hadn¡¯t eaten dinner, he simultaneously felt hungry and nauseous from the stink of rotten garbage.

 

 

 

Syaoran concluded that Yukito must have been kidding when he said the first day was the worst. The next evening was definitely worse—he started off by being 5 minutes late for his shift, because he had to run from after school soccer practice.

 

¡°You¡¯re late, Li Shouting!¡± barked the manager. ¡°For every minute you are late, your pay with be docked 5%.¡±

 

Soon, Syaoran was put to doing more dishes. He was already exhausted from soccer practice and suffered from sleep deprivation since he had to stay up all late last night to study for the Japanese composition test today. It was probably not his fault that one of the waiters collided into him while he was holding a soapy dish, which slipped from his hand and shattered, but the manager blamed him anyway.

 

¡°Li Showa! Wage docked another 5% every time you break a dish!¡± the manager shouted. ¡°Now pick up the pieces before somebody steps on it!¡±

 

The other employees snickered.

 

Who knew that working at a restaurant would be this hard? Syaoran wiped his sweaty brows with the back of his sleeve.

 

¡°It¡¯s just a threat. He doesn¡¯t really dock 5% of your wage,¡± Yukito whispered in reassurance to Syaoran, helping him sweep up the shattered china. ¡°It¡¯s only 3%.¡±

 

As if the day could get any worse, Syaoran heard a sickeningly familiar, high and mighty voice. ¡°Actually, for most employees who work here, they¡¯re lucky if they can retain 50% of their wage in their first month.¡±

 

¡°Touya, you made it after all,¡± Yukito said, handing Touya a white apron.

 

Tying on his bow-tie for the La Seine waiter uniform, Touya replied, ¡°Yeah, the seminar at the hospital ended earlier than expected.¡±

 

Of course, why didn¡¯t I suspect before? Syaoran thought darkly, sulking behind the sinks. If Yukito was working here, that person would definitely be too. Speaking of the worst of luck.

 

¡°Brat, what are you doing here?¡± Touya asked, finally having noticed the miserable soap-splattered boy who was sending venomous glares his way.

 

¡°Li-kun started working here since yesterday,¡± Yukito replied. ¡°When you had shift at the convenience store.¡±

 

¡°Oh yeah, I quit that job,¡± Touya said. ¡°It was too much to handle, and this job has a higher wage per hour.¡±

 

¡°Li-kun, are you feeling okay?¡± Yukito asked, walking over to Syaoran. ¡°You look rather blue.¡±

 

¡°Heh, don¡¯t tell me the Brat is really working here?¡± Touya snickered, crossing his arms. ¡°Is he the delivery boy or something?¡±

 

¡°Actually, I introduced him to this job as a waiter,¡± Yukito admitted sheepishly. ¡°I thought you would be quitting this job, not the convenience store one.¡±

 

¡°That¡¯s right. If I knew you would be here, I would never have taken this job,¡± Syaoran stated defiantly, stepping back.

 

¡°Li-kun! Watch out!¡± Yukito called out. It was too late. Syaoran had bumped into a high stack of plates near the edge of the table, and they all came crashing down.

 

¡°LI SHENDONG!!!¡± shouted the manager.

 

With the manager¡¯s chiding, Kinomoto Touya¡¯s malicious laughter, and shrieks of remorse and amusement from the waitresses, Syaoran wanted to crawl into the dumpster and simply cease to exist.

 

 

 

When Syaoran returned home, he was greeted with Kai lounging on the couch as if it were his own living room, munching on a bagful of microwave popcorn, which he had messily spilled everywhere. Wherever he walked, Syaoran heard the crunching of corn kernels underneath his slippers.

 

¡°Where have you been these days? Why are you coming back so late?¡± Kai asked, looking up, throwing up a popcorn in the air and catching it in his mouth. ¡°Eww¡¦ You smell of grease.¡±

 

¡°Get out of my house,¡± Syaoran said darkly, kicking aside a popcorn at his foot.

 

Kai winced. ¡°Ouch. Got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning?¡±

 

¡°I¡¯m warning you, I¡¯m not in the best of moods right now, especially after dealing with him,¡± Syaoran said, kicking off his shoes and tumbling towards his room. Still smarting from the humiliation and degradation in front of Kinomoto Touya, he threw his soiled clothes into the laundry basket, which was overfull—he didn¡¯t even have time to do laundry anymore. ¡°Why is there color laundry in the white linen basket?¡± he muttered, holding up a black boxer with red heard over it. Again, his expression darkened. Kai¡¦

 

When he came out of his room again, in even worse humor, Syaoran asked dryly, ¡°You still here?¡±

 

¡°Aren¡¯t you making dinner?¡± Kai asked, pouring the rest of the popcorn in the paper bag into his mouth.

 

¡°It¡¯s 1AM,¡± Syaoran said.

 

¡°Yeah, and I¡¯m hungry,¡± Kai replied, wiping a crumb from his mouth. Crumbs dropped on the carpet.

 

Syaoran was about to snap, but realized that his stomach was rumbling.

 

Quarter of an hour later, the two were eating tofu and eggplant lo-mein, watching TV on the couch.

 

Slurping up the noodles contently, Kai asked, ¡°Did you get a job?¡± Only Syaoran was able to conjure up such a delicious meal in 10 minutes.

 

¡°Yeah,¡± Syaoran replied.

 

¡°It¡¯s tough, huh?¡±

 

¡°Yeah.¡±

 

¡°Should have listened to my advice,¡± Kai said, setting down his plate and leaning back on the couch. ¡°People do crazy stuff for money. Because in this society, you can¡¯t survive without money.¡±

 

¡°Yeah.¡± Syaoran found his stir-fry noodles rather unappetizing after spending all evening in the kitchen. He hadn¡¯t started on any of his homework in four subjects. Plus, articles deadlines for journalism class were approaching, and he didn¡¯t even have a topic. Wolfie-chan jumped up to the sofa and licked his plate clean.

 

¡°You¡¯re not much of a conversation-maker tonight,¡± Kai commented, staring at the flashing images on the television screen.

 

¡°I guess,¡± Syaoran replied. He usually wasn¡¯t, anyway. The Elders had trained him to obey wordlessly, and speak only when spoken to, and even then, only politely and concisely. That¡¯s why it was so awkward when Sakura initiated all her little, light-hearted chatter, like that first time they had a real conversation, by the seaside on the school trip back in fifth grade.

 

¡°A beginner magician is taught that skill comes with endless practice and endurance. But success comes with thinking outside of the box, using charm, beauty and the clever play of words,¡± Kai said, absentmindedly shuffling a deck of cards with one hand.

 

¡°Well, if you¡¯re finished eating, why don¡¯t you go back now?¡± Syaoran said crossly, mostly because he was tired.

 

¡°Don¡¯t overwork yourself. It¡¯s not worth it,¡± Kai replied, not offended.

 

¡°I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s because of what Meilin said, but you really don¡¯t have to be overly concerned about my business,¡± Syaoran said.

 

¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not,¡± Kai said, getting up and scattering all his cards over the carpet. ¡°It¡¯s just that when I look at you, I¡¯m reminded of a certain foolish boy who thought he could solve all the problems of the world with his own two hands.¡±

 

It¡¯s strange. I should be more tired, but I can swear that Kai looks ever more worn out than me. Syaoran reflected, in his drowsy state. Can¡¯t help wondering if it¡¯s mental or physical strain¡¦ ¡®Aren¡¯t you lonely living by yourself?¡¯ Sakura had asked, that one night years ago by the seaside. She looked at me with such inquisitive green eyes, so sincere, and I felt a warmth that I never felt before. That¡¯s right, I don¡¯t even have time to be lonely anymore. That would probably be thanks to Wolfie-chan, and that wretched boy who needs more guidance than even myself.

 

¡°Truly, when I look at you, Mizuki Kai I feel like my problems are quite trivial,¡± Syaoran chuckled.

 

¡°My sister will despise me, my mother won¡¯t recognize me, and I will only loathe what I¡¯ve become—that is what my future holds,¡± Kai murmured, leaning against the doorframe. ¡°You are very lucky; you know what you want, and you have chosen to stay by her side over all else, to protect her with all that you have.¡±

 

Kai was a surprisingly considerate guy at times, Syaoran realized. Albeit he didn¡¯t pick up his cards before leaving.

 

******

 

By the fifth day, Syaoran was no longer dropping any plates, and the manager was not shouting at him every five minutes. He had learned to obediently do his duties quickly and efficiently without complaining. So that he didn¡¯t have to sacrifice sleeping hours, he learned to do his homework at school, during break times, and he bought school lunch, so that he didn¡¯t have to wake up earlier to make lunch. Luckily, Aki had been busy with basketball tournaments, so that journalism club meetings had rather been lax lately. And as the soccer team captain, Syaoran ended practice earlier now, blaming the cold weather. Still, students complained that practices became twice as vigorous as usual, though it ended half an hour earlier.

 

¡°Eh, Tsukishiro-san couldn¡¯t make it today?¡± the La Seine manager demanded to his employees. ¡°He was sent on an errand by some doctor? Then, we¡¯ll be short on waiters tonight.¡± He looked around the kitchen with birdlike eyes. ¡°You.¡±

 

Syaoran continued mechanically scrubbing the dishes in scalding hot water. There was a silence in the kitchen. Then he looked up and around him. ¡°Me?¡±

 

¡°Yes you. Li Shawping.¡±

 

¡°Syaoran. Syao, the character for ¡®small¡¯ and Ran for ¡®wolf,¡¯¡± Syaoran corrected half-heartedly.

 

¡°Put on Tsukishiro¡¯s uniform. You¡¯ll be serving tonight,¡± the manager said.

 

¡°Eh? But the only experience I have as a waiter is during school cultural day when our class hosted a café,¡± Syaoran protested.

 

To his relief, Syaoran found that waiting on tables was a lot easier than doing chores in the kitchen. Balancing five dishes and seven drinks on the tray was effortless compared to some of the training he had to undergo in the Li Clan. The only difficult part was the occasional picky guests who took ages ordering, canceling orders and spilled food all over the table.

 

¡°You boy, smile more,¡± the manager said scowling. ¡°With that kind of expression, you¡¯ll scare all the customers away. Be courteous and polite, respectful and humble.¡±

 

¡°You don¡¯t happen to know the Elders, do you,¡± Syaoran muttered.

 

¡°Excuse me?¡± the manager peered at Syaoran. ¡°And don¡¯t mumble to your self. Project, and remember, smile!¡±

 

¡°Yes sir,¡± Syaoran said, carrying out the dishes laden with food on a tray with one hand.

 

¡°Don¡¯t drop the food!¡± the manager called out.

 

¡°Don¡¯t worry—this is a lot easier than balancing a log with a bucket full of water in each hand,¡± Syaoran replied.

 

¡°Weird boy,¡± the manager murmured. ¡°It¡¯s strange how all the female customers love him and all the male ones are very wary of him.¡±

 

¡°Annoying brat,¡± Touya muttered, swearing revenge upon Yukito for introducing Syaoran to this job. Yukito just wanted to put us together, I know it. To see my reaction.

 

¡°What took you so long?¡± demanded a balding man dressed in a blue striped suit dining with a lavishly dressed, plump lady.

 

Syaoran set the food on the table quietly.

 

¡°I bet the food is cold already,¡± the man continued, picking at his pasta with a fork.

 

Without bothering to reply, Syaoran headed over to serve the drinks for the next table.

 

¡°What an impudent boy!¡± drawled the lady. ¡°I love his scowl though.¡±

 

Disdainfully, the man poked at his pasta again. ¡°What is this? Is this seafood marinara pasta? I ordered seafood carbonara pasta! Hey boy, explain this!¡±

 

Eyebrows twitching, creasing his brows, Syaoran said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but you clearly ordered seafood marinara sauce, not carbonara.¡±

 

¡°What are you talking about? I distinctively remember ordering cream sauce, not tomato sauce,¡± the man retorted, setting down his fork. ¡°I demand that you bring what I ordered.¡±

 

¡°This is what you ordered,¡± Syaoran repeated, restraining irritation. Were all customers like this? 

 

¡°That rude, impolite waiter!¡± the man declared, voice rising. ¡°I¡¯m going to complain about him to the manager. I refuse to eat this!¡±

 

The famous temper finally erupted, and Syaoran burst out, ¡°Fine then, if you don¡¯t want to eat it¡¦¡±

 

Before Syaoran could finish his sentence, Touya came up behind him and kicked him in the shin. Grabbing Syaoran¡¯s head, Touya made him bow over. ¡°I apologize for the waiter¡¯s mistake. He¡¯s new, so he doesn¡¯t know what he¡¯s doing,¡± Touya apologized hastily. Together, they bowed low.

 

¡°Humph. I demand for him to be fired at once! He dared to talk back to a customer,¡± the man stated, crossing his arms in satisfaction, glaring at Syaoran.

 

¡°It wasn¡¯t my fault,¡± Syaoran hissed, struggling under Touya¡¯s iron grip.

 

¡°Bow down lower,¡± Touya said through gritted teeth. ¡°And apologize sincerely. It is not your place to complain.¡±

 

¡°But—¡° Syaoran was cut off.

 

¡°Do you want to lose your job?¡± Touya demanded. He bowed to the man and woman again. ¡°You can count that dish on the house. If you still want the carbonara pasta, we will have the chef prepare it right away.¡± He glared at Syaoran. ¡°Apologize.¡±

 

Reluctantly, Syaoran bowed down and said through gritted teeth, ¡°I am sorry for my mistake. I¡¯ll bring in your order of seafood carbonara pasta right away.¡±

 

¡°Humph. It¡¯s okay. I¡¯ll just have this.¡± The man sniffed.

 

¡°Again, I apologize on behalf of this new, ignorant waiter,¡± Touya said one final time.

 

Trembling to subdue his infuriation, Syaoran followed Touya to the kitchen.

 

¡°Are you an idiot, talking back to a customer like that?¡± Touya demanded, once they were out of earshot. ¡°What do you think you are, the Emperor of Japan?¡±

 

¡°I told you it¡¯s not my fault!¡± Syaoran retorted. ¡°I did not hear wrong; that man is lying.¡±

 

¡°I know it¡¯s not your fault,¡± Touya said shortly.

 

Choking, Syaoran sputtered, ¡°Then why—¡°

 

¡°As a waiter, the customer is the king, and if they said you made a mistake, then you made a mistake. Just swallow it and accept it. You can¡¯t go around in the real world, thinking that you are always right, and that everything has to be your way,¡± Touya replied. ¡°Idiot; you¡¯re just showing your ignorance.¡±