Title: Phothief

Summary: “We have twenty-eight days, Kinomoto, twenty-eight days. One thousand, six hundred eighty hours and that’s it. I swear if you don’t make it, I will kill you with my bare hands. Do you understand?” She nodded. SxS

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter Two

Enjoy!f

December 6, 1999

Monday.

Sakura stood up from the bed and immediately headed for the large window draping elegantly across the east side of her bedroom. Gathering up her strength, she flung open the curtains and took a deep whiff of sunlight.

“Quite the morning person aren’t we?”

She whirled around upon hearing the voice and gave a little squeal, “Food!”

Syaoran smiled cheerfully and transferred the plate of breakfast in his hands to a nearby chair. Picking up the fork, he began to tick off the items one by one, “You’ve got your scrambled eggs, your bacon, some fruit… oh, and let’s not forget the biscuit. No meal is complete without a nice, warm biscuit.” He grimaced. “No orange juice though. I'm afraid my thirst outweighed any thoughts of hospitality toward guests, so we can go pick some up on the way home today.”

Sakura waved her hands dismissively and picked up a piece of bacon, “I’ll just grab a carton of milk later.”

He grinned and mussed her hair affectionately to the dissatisfaction of its owner. “Eating before brushing your teeth? What an unrefined little monster.”

She stopped chewing, “My brother used to call me that.” Noticing his quizzical expression, she swallowed her piece of bacon and asked, “What?”

“Nothing.” His eyebrows furrowed, “Your brother wouldn’t happen to be Touya Kinomoto would he? That math professor in Toudai who had to take up almost five part-time jobs at one point of his life just to get into college?”

“Yup, that’s onii-chan.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and moved on to the eggs. “You know him?”

“I went to college with him,” he chuckled at her shocked expression. “We were roommates actually, and he once mentioned something about a ‘kaijuu’ back at home.”

Sakura laughed and pretended to stab Syaoran with the fork, “What a jerk.”

“Me or him?”

“Both,” she replied immediately. “Now get out of my room so I can change.”

“Your wish is my command,” Syaoran replied and gave a mock-bow for added emphasis. “Don’t forget to eat your biscuit! You’ll need your strength today.”

Sakura raised an eyebrow inquisitively as she licked her fork for any remaining tidbits, “For what? You never said what we were doing.”

“Ah.” He patted her shoulder patiently, “That my dear, is a surprise. Now as much as I enjoy seeing you in your smiley face pajamas, you need to get dressed. You're welcome for the breakfast by the way.”

“Aww,” she pouted, “But then how will I know what to wear?’

He laughed and relented to her pleading expression. “Casual’s fine; whatever you usually put on for the DVD store.”

“DVD store?” She clapped her hands excitedly, thereby dropping the fork. “What movie are we watching?”

“Acting for Dummies now hurry up.” He dodged a fork that had somehow “slipped” from her fingers and left the room whistling cheerfully.

“Jerk,” she grumbled to the now empty room.

It had become a sort of morning ritual to her, something that she could always look forward to no matter how nasty he was the night before. Every morning she could count on that tray of eggs. It was a consistency, and god knows how hard it is to find something in life that doesn’t change. She wondered absently if he did this with all of his clients.

So what was the reason behind yesterday’s blow-up?

On the second day of their deal aka less than nine hours ago, Syaoran had, true to his promise, taken her to the producer’s office for an “interview.” After much smiling and butt-kissing, Tsukishiro gave them tips for the upcoming audition including some extremely helpful suggestions on what type of monologue the judges will be looking for.

Only after Sakura agreed to have dinner with him on Friday of course.

Shy, innocent Sakura felt a little embarrassed at his offer; however, Syaoran was quick to show her the rules of the Hollywood game. Seeing his client’s hesitation at replying, he instantly surmised the situation and without another word dragged her out of the room. Curt threats and hardened melanic eyes solved the problem in less than a minute, and before she knew it, Sakura had a date at the exclusive Cécille’s. Yukito watched them leave with a thoughtful expression on his face.

That evening at approximately 9 o'clock pm, Syaoran gave her a lecture she would never forget. Her father had once given her “explanations of life” when she was younger, but this, this was a lecture. Not once did he ever lay a hand on her, but somehow she knew that she would have preferred to be slapped, bruised, and beaten like there was no tomorrow over his little 'talk'.

He knew how people like her thought, and could analyze any argument she contrived, crush it, and spit on it repeatedly before the words even left her mouth. He'd met plenty of desperate, poor dreamers in his life, and Sakura Kinomoto was just one of millions.

Unfortunately, it was a one-sided understanding. She never could imagine what was going on behind those beautiful golden brown eyes, never could predict what he would do next. And it was this imbalance of knowledge that leaned the seesaw of power over to his side.

He understood her, and therefore, he controlled her.

That had been a difficult pill to swallow for Sakura; hence, the huge fight. Initially, it had just been ‘the silent treatment’, and then seeing how fruitless how that turned out, she began turning up the volume. The entire time they were eating dinner (and for one hour straight in the study after that) she had screamed and ranted about how damn controlling and cocky he was and how he had NO RIGHT to interfere with her love life and to STAY OUT of her effin business, and why the hell did he make her agree to seduce the producer anyway?

Syaoran kept silent the whole time. He waited calmly for her voice to go hoarse, and then slowly stood up from his armchair. The seat squeaked in surprise as his body changed into an offensive position.

“How immature,” he said. “You idot, I'm helping you achieve your goal, and all you can do is sputter incoherent, childish insults at me? Ingrate. How dare you bite the hand that feeds you?”

She colored, and replied back slightly hesitatingly, “Har-de-har. It’s not like you aren’t gaining anything from this either. In fact,” she grinned triumphantly, “I’m actually helping you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be stuck in this dumpster forever.”

Syaoran laughed. “Look around, Kinomoto. Does Malibu look like a dumpster to you? You just proved my point, you know that? Listen to yourself. Are these the words of a twenty something year old grown woman? You‘re the most ridiculous person I‘ve ever met in my life, getting so worked up about a single date.” He took a few steps closer to her and scoffed. “I never thought that I would have to say this so bluntly to someone, but since you seem so slow on the uptake, the responsibility unfortunately falls on me.”

“You see those fashion magazines on the table? Every single person in there has some sort of sob story about their road to success. Every one of those smiling, waving, laughing female models knew what they would have to do to get in that position. To receive is to give. It is very simple, Kinomoto, so very very logical.”

“And it makes sense, so stop looking at me as if I had grown a second head,” he snapped.

“In order to achieve anything in this world, you must give up something of value to yourself. Some choose to sacrifice their innocence; others give up their humanity. You know the whole “everyone has to grow up” crap that your parents fed to you when you were younger? That’s bullshit. No one has to grow up- no one has to do anything. No force in this world could compel you to do something that you don’t want to do.”

Syaoran advanced a couple more steps.

Sakura's eyes widened, and she subconsciously let her body drop into the swivel chair.

He proceeded calmly.

“But then why does anyone do anything, you might ask? Or maybe you wish to plead the case that some do it because they have no choice?” He laughed crazily and picked up a bill on his desk. “Do I have to give up thousands of dollars for my car payment?” He picked up another, “Or my water fee?” and another, “How about electricity?” and a very bulky one, "And let's not forget my wonderful yearly rent." Syaoran threw the envelopes on the ground and began grinding them with the heel of his leather Oxfords.

“No sweetheart, I can do whatever the hell I want. I could walk instead of drive, die from thirst, go live in the streets, and possibly even murder my landlord. And then if they sent me to jail, I could commit suicide before they put me behind bars.”

He laughed again.

“Everyone has a choice, Sakura, and you made yours. You wanted something, and therefore you made a decision so you could have it. I said it was simple didn’t I?” By now he was practically hovering above her, and his expression was one of mock pity. Merciless eyes glinted dangerously down at her startled face.

“And now you have to sacrifice something,” he finished almost gently. “What are you willing to give, Sakura?”

Her eyes flickered wildly as her brain searched for a response.

Finally, he answered his own question. "Oh I know already that I am entitled to almost half of your future earnings. Nonetheless, that’s just to me.” He bent down so that they were face-to-face.

“But what are you willing to relinquish from your soul? How do you think your ideals are going to change after this whole acting business is done with?” Placing a hand on her head, he weaved his long masculine fingers through her hair and let it tumble down her shoulders like a waterfall. “Are you going to surrender your innocence like the others?”

Syaoran whispered into her ear, “Or maybe kiss goodbye to that adorable naiveté?” His nose barely grazed her chin, and Sakura could practically feel his smirk. “Become a cold, hardened ice maiden perhaps?”

He straightened, and brushed the dirt off his trousers. Then after taking a moment to fix his shirt, he jeered disgustedly at her frozen face. “Personally, I think it’ll be your dignity.”

And without another word he swept out of the room.

Ah, Syaoran in all his devilish two-faced glory. Mr. Nice Guy one moment, and the most hateful bastard you’ve ever met in your entire life the next. I would say 'poor Sakura', but then again she was being a bit too idealistic. Rest assured though, she will have her character development as the story progresses and, who knows, maybe one day she'll even prove Syaoran wrong...

Hmm, but what do you think? Review review review please; it'll encourage me to update faster :D

Approbation is appreciated, flames are forgiven, constructive criticism is coveted, and reviewers are revered.