Current mood:

pessimistic

CCS/TRC fanfic
Because I don't want to study for exams. Shut up.

Title: Of mice and...

Fandom: CCS/TRC

Pairing: Mentions of Syaoran/Sakura, mostly just Syaoran

Rating: G

Summary: [SPOILER] "Technically Watanuki is working off Syaoran's debt to time, space, and fate itself. Syaoran is never to be trusted with a credit card." [/SPOILER] - A Troper @ http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Ptitletanigjtzzgkp?from=Main.XXXHolic (highlight to read)

Warnings: Uh, spoilers? But if you've been following TRC, you should know this already!

~*~
Syaoran twisted in his seat, fingers drumming along the seam of his pants. The soft cushion of the family couch was doing nothing to ease the tension that was building in his stomach, settling into the bottom of his gut like a very hard, very indigestible piece of lead.

His father was pacing before him, walking in a stiff gait that covered the length of the room in only a few strides. In his hand was the source of Syaoran’s agony, an innocuous looking piece of paper that bore his doom.

Intent as he was on the fluttering paper, he failed to notice his father stopping. It wasn’t until his father was clearing his throat, a very annoyed scowl gracing his face that Syaoran looked up from his daze and into a glare that he had learned to fear since he was young. It was a look that said Syaoran would have been happier to allow his mother to deal with him. And his mother’s punishments were very creative.

“Dimension travel to another world,” his father read from the paper in his hand, the scowl tightening with every word, “twice.”

Looking up from the words, he gave Syaoran another glare before continuing, “Turning back the time, twice. Changing the future, thrice. Returning the dead to life…”

His father’s words trailed off as the paper in his hands crumpled. From Syaoran’s seat on the couch, he could barely make out the signature at the edge of the sheet, a flowery cursive of ancient script which he couldn’t read but knew without a doubt was Ms. Ichihara Yuuko’s handwriting.

“You’re going to paying off this debt,” his father informed him, shaking the crumpled paper in emphasis, and Syaoran nodded miserably. His father hadn’t told him what the payment would be, but from the way his father’s eyes were twitching, Syaoran could guess at a number of unsavory options.

“You’re grounded,” his father continued, his pacing starting once more and making Syaoran dizzy with anxiety. “Until you’re 18, you will not set foot outside of this house. You will not visit, see, or talk to your girlfriend, royalty or not.”

Syaoran jerked at the mention of Princess Sakura, not wanting to know how much more his father knew about that particular affair.

“You will do all of Kimihiro’s house chores and you will not run errands for him,” his father was growling now and Syaoran hastily agreed, his voice squeaking in fear.

Stopping again, his father settled for pinching his brow in frustration, no longer glaring at Syaoran and was instead focused on some image far, far away. In a softer mutter, he added, “Your mother will be taking care of this…bill, and you will show your appreciation to her as soon as she comes back.

“And you will not ask that Witch for anymore wishes,” his father finished then stalked out of the room, presumably to face down his mother’s wrath once she learns of his transgressions.

In the wake of his father’s departure, silence fell in the room, a crushing presence that was only broken seconds later by a voice from under the couch, “Ah, don’t worry. Your father’s always been a hotheaded brat. Give him a few days and he’ll cool off.”

Syaoran dipped his head further, glaring at the source of the unhelpful advice.

“I’m never listening to you again, Kero-chan.”

~*~
Spoilery author notes: Okay, yes, I know "Syaoran" isn't actually named Syaoran, but since we don't yet know what his name is, we'll keep calling him "Syaoran" until it's revealed what his parents named him. That sentence totally made sense in my head.