Title: Paint it Black

Disclaimer::Blows hair out of face: I am not the creator of Card Captor Sakura, merely borrowing the characters and bending them to my will and fit this cliché plot. This piece of fiction is made purely for the enjoyment of writing it and for readers who choose to read it. No money is to be made of it.

Rating: T (13+). This fanfiction is suitable for teenagers, 13 years and older. With some violence, minor coarse language and minor suggestive adult themes. Role on the good times, baby!

Warning: Apart from the fact that this has to be the most cliché plot out there in the universe of fiction, there will be course language, some serious OOC due to the fact that I'm new at this fandom (and I want them to act like this, so nyah!). There will also be some mild sexual references (you know, the usual kissing, cuddling, boys shoving girls up against walls in bouts of lust and all that lovely stuff).

Summary: Syaoran and Sakura were best friends as kids but High school tore them apart. Now they're separated by popularity. She's a prep, he's a punk. Fate means to reunite them. Includes prank wars, parties, snowball fights and chocolate hearts

Genre: A little bit of everything, I'm afraid. There's romance, the usual feelings, kissing, cuddles, the fuzzies, and all the good stuff. There's Drama, pranks of the childish kind, dates that go horribly wrong, and generally dramaness. There's also humour, cynicism, sarcasm, and general snarkiness. I will probably throw in a bit of angst because I like being cruel to the characters. Ahem, moving on.

Author's Note: Hello, and welcome to my very first fanfic, let alone in the Card captor Sakura fandom. I hope you enjoy it and please keep in mind that i'm new to all of this and i am British and use British spelling.



What we were

I can't for the life of me pinpoint the exact time it all started. Well, you don't, do you? Not at first. Especially when it happened when I was six years old, nothing more then a midget with impossibly wide green eyes and knobbly knees.

Maybe it was just fun for me to say 'I like so and so'. All the other girls were doing it so I guess I wanted in on the fun. I don't know why I even picked Li Syaoran. It could be because even at six years of age he was termed 'cool'. He was the first in our year to ride his sporty black bike without stabilisers. He could blow the biggest bubble with his bubble gum, smoked chocolate cigarettes in the playground and had an eight ball tattoo transfer on his bicep that he got from a pack of sweets.

The first time we talked, or I should rather say the first time he noticed me, was when it was lunchtime recess and the biggest bully of the school had kidnapped my Barbie doll and was holding her to ransom. Now, everyone knows you don't get in between a girl and her dolls; it's just plain stupidity.

So there we were, the bully gleefully swinging Barbie by her hair above my head and I, being the little midget that I was, was jumping up and down swinging my arms like a windmill trying to rescue her from his sweaty clutches. Now, I would like to state for the record that I wasn't myself at the time. I'm a very peaceful 'violence-won't-solve-anything' kind of girl. But I was out of my mind with frustration (I had spent the whole morning braiding her hair and she was being pulled around like a rag doll).

Without even thinking, my fist curled and shot out and hit him in the groin. The bully doubled over in pain, going cross-eyes as he clutched at himself. Letting out a girly squeak, he relinquished his hold on Barbie and I made a mad dash to catch her before she hit the muddy ground.

My moment of triumph was short lived when a teacher dragged me off to the principal's office (ever notice that the teachers are never around when you want them to, and yet they are there when you do something stupid? Yeah, you too?). But before I disappeared back into the school, I caught sight of Syaoran and his band of friends all cheering for me. I met Syaoran's eyes and he smiled at me and mouthed 'That was so cool'.

It wasn't 'heart-pounding, Dear-God-he-just-talked-to-me' sort of thing. I didn't really feel anything but a rush of pride and triumph at what I did. Syaoran thought I was cool. It was more to do with the fact I wanted to be friends with him, unlike all the other girls of my class who wanted to be his girlfriend.

Didn't they care bout cooties?

I wanted to be the one he gave rides to on his bike. I wanted to be the one that he high-fived when he scored a goal in sports, I wanted to chase him around the playground and have him chase me back. I wanted him to stick up for me when the bullies ever bothered me again. I wanted him to scrunch his nose up at the other girls and swing his arm around my shoulders. I wanted a best friend.

After what seemed like forever and my ears still ringing from the lecture I got from the principle, I was allowed back to class. After stammering an apology for being late, I searched for an empty seat and, as if God had answer my call, there was an empty seat next to none other than Syaoran. He smiled widely as our eyes met and patted the empty seat.

My heart was hammering in my chest as I made my way to the seat, painfully aware that all the girls were burning holes in my back with their death glares. I kept my head held high, ignoring them the best I can. Once the teacher carried on with the tedious lecture on the five times tables, Syaoran lent over to me and whispered "You're not bad for a girl."

I think that was the best compliment anyone has ever said to me.

After that, we were joined at the hip. I was initiated into Syaoran's little group of friends as the 'honorary girl'. There was Eriol with his Harry Potter glasses and a wicked sense of humour, Takashi and his incredible imagination and a knack for making little things seem colossal. There were others that were in the group but we were the four in the very centre and it was Syaoran and me that was the very power base. I had finally claimed the title of Syaoran's best friend.

It seemed I was on top of the world. I had finally found my place in life, found someone who was the other half of my soul. We had burping contests, Syaoran taught me how to ride a bike (after many yelling fits and crashes into people's gardens), I went through the phase of finding swear words very interesting and had the need to use them in every single sentence. My family have emotional scars through that little episode; they don't like talking about it.

Getting older brought new twists and turns. Life, as it most often does, change. Gym was once my favourite subject until it became a humiliation for me. Gym was now a place where people smelled, they sweated and dragged you kicking and screaming into the communal shower where the P.E. teachers stood over you like prison wardens.

Instead of sports, I found myself taking a liking to creative writing. It was just something about being able to create a whole new world with new characters that I got addicted to. Syaoran took the same liking to art. He was always with a sketchbook and pencils. I would often beg him to illustrate my stories and draw my characters. It was a partnership and I promised him if I got published, only he was allowed to illustrate my books. Syaoran just laughed and ruffled my hair.

While my fear of cooties often stopped me from even thinking of getting cuddly with a boy, I had my first crush in my fifth year. His name was Laurie. He didn't belong to our group of friends, which put me on my guard at the start, but he was in my class and when I turned up for my first lesson, I found him at my desk with daisies (unfortunately, the little fragile petals were bent because boys never seem to understand that you had to treat flowers gently). And he told me he liked my hair clips. We were immediately branded boyfriend and girlfriend. Syaoran seemed a little miffed about Laurie. The first time they met, Syaoran didn't say much and he was sizing him up. I bit my lip and hoped that he didn't go for Laurie's throat.

Syaoran looked at my worried expression and his frown slowly disappeared to a soft smile. He slung his arm around my shoulder and said, "Just as long as he doesn't take my place, it's fine. But that doesn't mean I have to watch you smooch him, got it?" My face was red as a tomato. I hadn't thought of that. Thinking about it made me want to throw up my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I ate for lunch.

Syaoran, on the other hand, was shy with girls. It wasn't like no girl wanted to be his girlfriend, quite the contrary. Every single girl in our class and in others tended to write his name in large pink hearts in their diaries. Syaoran just didn't seem interested in any of them. I was the only girl that he spoke full sentences to. He seemed content on being my bodyguard, making sure Laurie kept his hands to himself.

Laurie was the first guy I held hands with, walking home from school. I didn't know what to do with my fingers, was I supposed to interlace them with his or did I hold his hand like I held me parent's hand? It was very strange; his hand was hot and sweaty. We didn't speak, too embarrassed and red in the face. The girls were all jealous because no one had held a guy's hand so I was the most experienced (until two days later and this girl called Carrie kissed Eriol on the cheek for a game of truth or dare).

Laurie told me he loved me when we were at the school's Christmas party. He gave me a plastic ring that you can get from the slot machines. I treasured it more than anything.

Exactly two days after the party, I caught him holding hands with Carrie. He wanted the ring back but I told him that I had thrown it away but what I really did was to stand on it and listen to the satisfying crunch.

Of course, Syaoran didn't take too kindly to his best friend being cheated on. The next day Laurie was sporting two black eyes and a huge gap in his front teeth.

I couldn't have been more proud of my best friend.

But, like I said before, times change.

I thought we were inseparable, not even a hurricane could tear us apart. But it seemed something worse happened to us.

High school.

The first two years were a living nightmare for both Syaoran and me. My mother, a truly special woman, died of cancer. My whole world came crashing around my ears. Like all young girls, my mother was perfect in my eyes. She was so beautiful and kind, she was even a model. She left behind her a huge hole that would never be filled up. My father, Fujitaka, shut himself up in his study for hours on end. My brother, Touya, seemed to channel his grief through anger. I, on the other hand, found myself pulling away from everyone, including Syaoran. Through all of the shock and the loneliness, my mind persuaded me to not share any of it with Syaoran, that it was too big to have to burden him with.

Loosing such a big female role model in my life made me realise I didn't have many female friends. I sought those female friends in a girl called Tomoyo and her own group of friends like Rika, Meiling, Naoko and Chiharu. They were the pretty popular girls and I was uncertain whether I would fit in but they were so nice and very kind and I was initiated into the group easily. My own popularity jumped up and when I hit puberty and I was noticed by the opposite sex. Not as a girl who could flip Pringles in her mouth without it braking but as a girl who you go on dates with and kiss.

I was still Syaoran's best friend and I tried to explain to him about my need to be friends with other girls but Syaoran couldn't understand. He was always a follower of the whole non-conformist attitude and it was like a betrayal that I would even think of being friends with the likes of them. And the attention I got from the jocks was perhaps too unbearable for him.

Our friendship became strained. We were now gravitating to new circles of friends, me with the preps and Syaoran mingling with the punks/goth/skaters. We hardly talked to each other at school, social hierarchy making it practically impossible and at home it was even worse. We didn't phone each other, didn't text, and didn't meet up at the park or the café. It was like we were complete strangers.

The last nail in the coffin, so to speak, was when I heard from a secondary source that Syaoran had been kicked out of his own house and was living with Eriol. I knew things between him and his mother were never what a mother-son bond should be like. She was incredibly strict and was always seeking true perfection in her son. I had only been over his mansion-sized house once, and that was enough for me. The woman didn't even acknowledged my presences and she had criticised Syaoran on every little detail. He would always come over my house and he was like a second son to Fujitaka.

But he didn't tell me anything, didn't phone to ask to stay at my house which he knows he didn't even have to ask, it would have been a yes anyway. My anger overtook me, hurt that he snubbed me for Eriol, no offence to Eriol or anything but it was the best friend's duty to help out.

The next day I found him at school standing by the tree in the school yard waiting for the bell to ring for the start of lessons with his punk friends. A cigarette dangled from his hand and my step faltered. Since when did he start smoking…?

The group went silent as I approached Syaoran, who stood leaning against the trunk and staring at me with a blank look.

"Syaoran," I said in a way of greeting.

He inclined his head, and I pursued my lips.

He was so cold…

"Why didn't you phone me about what happened? You know there's room at my house. My dad would have said yes." I tried to keep the indignant hurt out of my voice, but I failed miserably.

He took a drag of his cigarette and I wrinkled my nose. "Since when do I answer to you?" He asked. His buddies snickered and I shot them all a glare.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." I hissed. What the hell was wrong with him? "Since when did we keep secrets from each other?"

"Since you decided to ditch me for the preps. Since you joined the ranks of sheep. Does it make you feel good to walk all over other students? Does it make you feel superior?" His eyes, once so affectionate and warm, were like shards of ice that cut me to the bone.

"I never ditched you. I've always wanted us to stay as best friends, but you couldn't handle that I wanted other friends. And what the hell are you talking about walking all over people? I have never done that to anybody!" I yelled defensively. How stereotypical of him to lump me with those few populars that sneer at people. Not the entire popular clique did that.

"Keep telling yourself that, princess." He sneered. I cringed at his harsh tone. "I only ask for help from friends."

My blood ran ice cold. "What are you trying to say?"

He stepped away from the tree until we were inches apart. "I'm saying that you should get lost. You're not wanted here. You'll never be wanted here. You turned you back on me, now I'm returning the favour. So why don't you run along with your preppy friends, I'm sick of the sight of you." He turned and walked away, his friends following and slapping his back in some sort of macho congratulation ritual. I could hear their laughter ringing in my ears.

He never once looked back at me.

I felt like I had been sucker punched in the gut. My best friend, the one person that I cared the most about, hated me so much that he could barely look at me.

…How did it come to this…

The aching hurt was soon washed away by pure fury. I may have been guilty of befriending preps and letting our friendship slip but that was about it. His prejudice alienated him from seeing that Tomoyo and the girls were kind and nothing like the bimbo cheerleaders of our school. He made no effort on holding on to our friendship and his resentment and anger over his family issues had poisoned him and pushed me away.

That sweet, shy Syaoran was no longer. He was replaced by an arrogant punk who played girls like they were nothing more then pieces of meat. The best friend I used to know was long gone and I despised this new persona and wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

Tomoyo, being the sensitive reflective person that she is, knew immediately that something was wrong. I told her about my confrontation with Syaoran earlier that morning. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's one of those things, Sakura. Friends drift apart, make other friends. It's how life works. It's such a shame that you guys had to do it with explosive fireworks for an encore."

"I still can't believe he would say all of those things about me. It was like all those years of being friends were wiped from his memory. Like it meant nothing." I grumble, holding my head in my hands.

"It happens when friends get accepted into different social circles. It's like a law or something, to hate anyone who isn't apart of it. I know you don't like it," Tomoyo said as she caught sight of my scowl. "I don't like it either but we can't do anything about it. This type of hierarchy in schools all over the world has been here for centuries."

This little chat did not make me feel better. In fact, it just made me feel angrier. But what could I do? Syaoran was avoiding me like I had the plague or something, and to be honest, I didn't want to be near him. What he said wounded me to the point where I couldn't be healed, didn't want it to be healed.

So, after all that, I'm finally at the present. I'm Sakura Kinomoto, seventeen years old, one of the most popular girls attending Tomoeda High. I haven't spoken to Syaoran since our little spat three years ago. We pass each other in the hallways without so much as a glance. But this is my last year and something is going to change.

I can feel it.

To Be Continued...

Review, my dahlins!