A/N: My first multi-chaptered fic! This story is set about … ten years or so after the second movie. Only in this version, Syaoran didn't get there in time and The Void card took its price from Sakura. Ergo, she doesn't remember Syaoran or what she feels for him. You may find echoes of Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicles in here. It wasn't intentional, but the resemblance is inevitable, really.
Disclaimer: I suppose I should get used to saying this, shouldn't I? I don't own it. Never have, never will. Okay?
Summary: He knew the girl behind the counter … but she didn't know him. Short fic set in a world where The Void has taken Sakura's love for Syaoran.
He hated being in Tokyo.
He supposed he was being a little unfair to the city by making that statement – after all, the weather was warm, summer had caused the flowers to come out in full bloom, and the people here were the friendliest he'd ever met. But none of that changed the fact that he hated being in Tokyo.
He travelled a lot for his job, all over the world, even. But the Elders he worked so hard to please knew better than to send him to Tokyo unless it was a Clan emergency.
Apparently, this was an emergency.
A CEO had made several contractual violations that had pulled him away from his Hong Kong mansion and into a penthouse suite in one of the finest hotels in Tokyo city centre. It was because of this CEO that he found himself in his most hated city, wandering down a street looking for somewhere that served a decent cup of coffee.
He was fairly certain that the CEO in question no longer had a job.
Finally a place caught his eye. He was picky when it came to coffee – Starbucks was never good enough for him. Unfortunately, you could never tell from the exterior of a shop just how good their coffee was.
He took a chance on a moderately sized place on the corner of the street he'd been walking down. The interior was warm and cosy, made up of dark mahogany wood tables and mismatched, squishy chairs and sofas. He had no idea why he'd chosen this place. Usually he liked things clean, cold and shining.
He joined the queue, impatiently checking his watch even though he had nowhere to be for an hour. He ordered his plain black coffee to go with the minimal pleasantries, not even looking at the boy behind the till as he scrawled down the order, stuck it to a polystyrene cup and handed it to the girl working the array of coffee machines.
The girl, however, caught his attention.
She was small, with auburn hair clipped at the back of her head to keep it out of her eyes. She spoke to a colleague, then to a customer (making them both laugh), and then she was just smiling, smiling at nothing as she went about preparing his drink.
He knew that girl … but she didn't know him.
He moved to the end of the counter to wait for his beverage, watching the girl's every move. She handled the machines with well-practised ease, clattering about and humming happily to herself. Finally she placed the cap on his coffee and turned to him, bright green eyes sparkling cheerfully.
"Here you go!"
She didn't recognise him. Why had he been stupid enough to hope that she would?
He took the cup slowly, wanting to say something, anything. But every word that came to his lips would be out of place, wrong in her eyes. He couldn't think of anything to say to a girl who clearly didn't know him, but still made his throat tighten and his breathing quicken and his heart ache.
He smiled at his reason for hating Tokyo. She smiled back at him.