"Cardcaptor Sakura"

Liar Game

Synopsis:

Tokyo: the technological capital of the world; the only city living in its own 31st century, mechanically-regulated bubble, and the home of the world's nastiest criminals. Li is a thief and a felon on the run and ends up bumping into the sweet, innocent kingpin of the world's largest crime circle. Can he con his way out of this one and lie to avoid both the authorities and opposite end of the law? Or will he get caught and hanged in a game of ultimate stakes?

***

Chapter One: Ubiquitous

"Would that my lies become your belief,

To deceive thy eyes and blind my foes,

For even Socrates to agree at my behest,

I would make false your reality unto mine,

And give to thee a Faustian bargain;

So that the Devil may accord this pact,

That I might save my soul and sin once more,

All for the Silver of the King."

Translated from the German play, "Der Silberne König"

Act I, Scene II, Lines 258-265.

Kingston, April 1, 2562

***

It was cold tonight. Lieutenant Petrov Ailimetry hated the cold. Nine different permanent stationing moves and six of the nine had been in the cold. Either his superiors disliked him, or karma had a cruel sense of humour since participating in the Fire Wars of 3021at the illegal age of twenty. Twenty years later, a promotion and nine station changes, here his butt was in Boz—the coldest, most desolate and deserted city Russia had to offer. Despite being a lieutenant, it meant nothing to his superior here in Boz who was enjoying the warmth of a fireplace at HQ. Petrov couldn't have hated the man more if he tried.

Stopping his circuit of the grounds, Petrov huffed a puff of white smoke in irritation and rubbed cold warmth into his stiff arms and shoulders. Cursing profusely he sneezed twice and wheezed an aching breath, as if his hatred of the weather would warm him, Petrov grumbled. What a federal facility was doing here in the middle of nowhere, and why it needed routine guarding wasn't his concern. The government didn't pay him to gripe complaints to the cold; no matter how many he had to give.

There was a sneeze of sound and Petrov whirled around; hand on his gun. Glaring into the blowing snow and wind, he cursed again and turned back to finish his damned circuit of the compound so he could go home and get drunk off heat and equal amounts of booze. The blistering cold weather was finally getting to his brain because he must be hearing things.

On a rooftop, directly behind Lieutenant Petrov, Li crouched against the windowsill of the second-story building, face buried in his glove. It had taken him exactly an hour and fifteen minutes to infiltrate the base without much hassle. The guards of the Federation were all lazy, arrogant and the ones he encountered were too cold to notice or care about an intruder in the dead of night. Boz had seen much more exciting days when the weather was fairer and the permafrost seemed permanently gone.

Turning around once the guard had disappeared, Li inspected the window. Enforced pyruveum. Pricey. It only reinforced the tip that had plunged him into this heat-forsaken wasteland in the first place. Unlatching the cyrex-plated diamond cutters from his belt, Li traced a small hole at the top of the glass. Hundreds of years of technological advances and space age later diamonds were still a girl and thief's best friend. Wedging a small round ball into the opening, he tapped the glass once, twice and stepped away, pressing his back against the wall, hearing the telltale hiss of melted pyruveum and steam.

Glancing inside the molten hole, Li saw the heat sensor right away, alerted to yellow, and threw an object the size of a marble at it, letting it latch onto it. Sparking a few times, the yellow light had once again turned green. All clear. This really was the weakest part of the facility—a functional heat sensor would've turned red right away to even the slightest change of heat in the atmosphere and alerted his presence to the entire building. Boz really had seen better days and security before its ice age when weather was warmer.

Stepping inside carefully to avoid the molten liquid metal, Li turned to his immediate left and saw, as expected, the executive suite that had the only elevator that would reach the floor above it. Kneeling down beside the door, he inspected it. Well damn. It was a downright archaic lock and key mechanism right in the doorknob. He owed Kero a hundred Clicks. It was time to stop betting on the validity of his information. As expected, the pyruveum didn't stay in its cool jelly state for long and reformed back in a snap—pristine. His only exit now was out the door and onto the balcony of the floor above the suite.

Slipping a wire inside, he stuck his diamond pick in and jiggled it a bit. Honestly, as old as it was, it was probably the best security because, by the 31st century, every thief worth their salt could empty the contents of Knox and still be confounded by the simplest of locks. Nobody used locks anymore, honestly.

The echo of footsteps reached his ears and Li paused for only a second, feeling the electrical charge run down his spine, telling him to hurry. Jiggling the wire with more fervour to get it done Li kept ducking his head over his shoulder for the sentry. Eyes widening at the glow of the flashlight, Li turned back to the lock and jiggled it a bit more. When the lock came with a click, he ducked inside as quickly as possible, feeling his heart pound in his chest and in his head.

Silence surrounded him, thick and heavy. Only moments later it was broken by the doorknob being turned furtively. Alarm bells turned red in Li's mind and he swiftly turned the lock in the doorknob. It was jiggled a few more times before being left alone. Indefinitely, it seemed. Li let out a sigh of relief and allowed himself a moment to relax to calm his nerves.

Turning on the light on his headband, he looked around the office. It was old and had actual books on the bookshelves. Taking the liberty to glance at a few of the titles, he raised an eyebrow at them. The Damnation of Faust, by Hector Berlioz; Le Comte de Monte-Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas; Lysistrata by Aristophanes: An Adapted Version, by Jacqueline Rose, and many more similar ancient books by authors that were long-since dead he'd never heard of decorated the walls in pristine, mint condition.

Li whistled. Nobody read actual books anymore let alone owned one. A real one cost upwards of five-hundred Clicks.

Turning away from the bookshelf, Li ignored everything else in the room—no matter how much he wanted to look at everything else in the museum of an office. He had a job to do. Heading straight for the wooden desk, he opened the top drawer and took the silver key embedded in white out of its secure padding. Removing a large painting that looked like a copy of the Mona Lisa—the real one had finally been stolen only thirty years ago during the Fire Wars, by Reed, his associate, no less—Li set it down carefully and revealed the hidden elevator. This elevator was the one and only way to enter the deathtrap that was the top floor—for it had only one window and had heavy security.

Remembering Kero's words as to what he should do once his job was successful, Li had to just wish for the best and hope that the cold wouldn't kill him on his way out. He could feel a cold coming on already. Turning the key in the lock, he pushed open the iron gate and returned the key to the desk, closing the drawer quietly. Stepping past the gate, he shut it and the door to the elevator closed promptly afterwards, immediately going up—as a response to the weight. Damn. He owed Kero another hundred Clicks. Apparently he was, with all his gear on, the same weight as Commander Trachtavin Regifeuld.

When the elevator door finally opened, Li continued walking, hearing the lasers activate behind him almost as soon as he left the elevator. It was programmed to vaporize anything that didn't leave the elevator within the next three seconds of the doors opening fully. Striding right up to the box containing one of the Federation's deadliest secrets known to man, Li placed his decoder on the solid steel box. Red numbers spun at lightning speeds, attempting to crack the ten digit number that was randomly generated every two minutes.

It was this moment that Li had practiced for the past three months for. As good a decoder it was, opening the box without the real authenticator took a minute and fifty-four seconds exactly. This gave him a short window to read the numbers and input them into the panel on the box that would open it without alarm before the number reset and was useless. Li had only one shot, because it would take the guards far less time to come and gun him down than he could try a second time and escape with increased security.

As the ninth spinning number stopped, revealing a four, Li thought in the back of his mind of bad luck. Despite all the nonsense it was, he would still avoid the number four and the colour white—he wasn't keen on having his luck run out on him at the worst possible moment. When the final number rolled another four, Li's itching hands got to work on the dial-pad. He had practiced this down to non-thought. When the box opened with an electrical hiss and revealed a red velvet ring box, Li took it and replaced it with the replica quickly. Mission successful.

Walking around the pedestal, as it hissed closed quietly without alarm, towards the grate-covered window he would escape through, Li walked around the wall obscuring it from view. Feeling his nose itch, he sneezed…

…right into the face of the guard posted there. They both froze for a few precious seconds. Unfortunately, it was the guard who was first to react.

"Freeze!" he yelled, fumbling for his gun.

Li took the split-second delay and kneed him in his gut, elbowing him between his shoulder blades, and finally kicking him, sending him flying towards a wall, slumped over. It was too late, however, as the guard had slapped the com link on his vest and it sparked to life.

"Intruder on the top floor! Requesting—urgh," the guard groaned as a kick was sent into the side of his head. It wasn't enough to kill, but would be the blame of a terrible headache the next day.

Frowning, Li cursed slightly. So this was what Kero meant by being on his own after job success. Cutting another hole in the blue-tinted window made of pyuveum, he quickly stuffed another jelly marble into it and stood back. The pyruveum hissed and steamed into the cold and the sudden flush of heat left a chill with Li. The grate still remained untouched, hot, liquid pyruveum pooling around the ground as the alarm went off and he saw lights like angry bees converging on his location from below.

Kicking at the grate as hard as he could a few times, he managed to break it apart at a few places due to the quick heating of the steam and cooling of the cold once it had all settled. Jumping through just as the liquid substance was reforming, Li glanced left and right, wincing when a light was flashed on him. Cover blown. It was time to bust his way out with his prize.

Lieutenant Petrov had heard the siren and frowned. Despite his frustrations with command, he was still a Lieutenant of the Federation and could get the axe pretty quickly if he wasn't doing his best. Holding his gun out in front of him, shivering, he pointed upwards when the spotlight came upon the thief—just a kid—dressed like a ninja in black having escaped from the building. There was a black mask over his face and Petrov couldn't help but wonder where he had seen those petrifying amber eyes before.

Raising a hand, blue smoke erupted in a quickly-formed cloud dispersing widely, obscuring the thief from sight. Aiming his gun into the smoke, Petrov started to fire like so many of his other colleagues had started doing. Mere moments later something like an arrow shot out of that cloud and Petrov caught it, whipping his head around to catch sight of the thief for the last time.

***

"Boys, gentlemen, place your bets!"

Grumbles and other curses were expelled towards the raven-haired woman with the sharp violet eyes grinning round the room. Eight of Japan's worst criminals were currently playing a twisted version of strip poker. All eight were attempting to walk away with some form of profit at the expense of others. All eight had slighted the one person in the world they shouldn't have and were playing a game to gain the chance to repent their action. Four would die tonight and four would make a huge profit and a chance to make amends to the party insulted before mysteriously disappearing after four weeks if amends were not made.

Coins and various bills were allotted in the centre after the hands were assembled and would remain so until the round winner took the pot. Only live players could hold money. Money did no good wherever these felons were going after the game was over.

"Tomoyo—"

"Maitress Daidouji, to you Treius. Now what is it?"

The one called Treius grumbled something under his breath but stopped upon seeing her rather cheerful smile darken as her violet eyes flashed. "Maitress Daidouji, I believe the number we all were informed of was the usual three—not two. This is… not fair."

The cocky smile returned to her face once more. Right now, Tomoyo was the very right hand of God herself. Anything she said would either get done or The Boss would be informed and that number would be drastically reduced. Nobody really knew how Tomoyo had gotten such a trusted and, rather vied, position beside The Boss, but they didn't dare question her rule. Tomoyo Daidouji was probably just as bad as The Boss.

Despite looking sweet and innocent, everyone sitting at that table knew Tomoyo had a short patience and you either humoured her or you didn't last long in this game. One of those humours, every so often, was to call her Maitress Daidouji, rather than her typical address of Tomoyo. Hushed voices of nearby observers could be heard whispering Devil Daidouji every now and then—but her attention was not to be stolen by trivialities. Tonight she was Maitress Daidouji and they would all fear her every move. Letting out a cheerful laugh, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, Tomoyo wiped away an imaginary tear. Treius witnessed five of eight of Japan's worst criminals cower in fear to the wicked laugh of a twenty something year old slip of a girl. Slamming her hand on the table, she tilted her head, smirking at him.

"Princess, what say you?" she called out loudly, grinning wide—addressing The Boss directly—without taking her eyes off Treius.

"Shoot," came the curt, rather bored, response.

Whipping out a pistol in a flash of blue-black lightning as Tomoyo's unbound hair went flying, a click was heard in the room. In the span of no time at all, the barrel end of a silver magnum was ghosting the spot between Treius' eyes. Tomoyo earned her nickname well. She was the quickest draw and the most accurate shooter you had ever met. Tomoyo could shoot anything in a hundred yard range with that magnum of hers and be able to boast where she shot it to be true.

"You heard it here first. Last words, Treius?" she asked, winking at him.

A gurgled response came from the man and the fear and rage was evident in his face. Being able to boast a pretty mean shot of his own, he had attempted to do so once more after the judgement of his fate had come down. The fear came from the fact of his imminent death. The anger stemmed from being ousted by the girl that was the right hand of the devil.

"Maitress Daidouji, I beg that you please reconsider."

The crooked smile returned to her face and all the other seven were careful to avoid any chance of gaining eye-contact with her. Most were holding their cards stiffly before, but now they were shaking. Tomoyo held these games as The Boss' embodiment for reasons.

"Your last words are pitiful," she said condescendingly before a loud bang was heard and the smell of gunpowder filled the room. It was a sickly sweet, ancient smell that reminded everyone of the days where it was used. With a thud, Treius' body fell on the ground, his body pooling in his own blood. Spinning the silver gun once before pocketing it again, Tomoyo gave the remaining seven a good look. "Any other complaints?"

Heads were quickly shaken. No. No one was willing to test the temperamental disposition of The Boss—who had oddly attended this game rather than shut herself up in her room again. If it weren't for the fact that Tomoyo was such a loyal pet to The Boss, everyone would've assumed long ago that Tomoyo Daidouji was pulling the strings.

There was a shuffle and all eyes shifted towards the sound. Even Tomoyo had taken her eyes off the table to look up. Walking over quickly a hand reached out towards her, flailing slightly, before Tomoyo caught it, pulling The Boss to their feet. Tomoyo's other arm was wrapped around the other's waist, supporting her while the other held her hand, steadying her. Everyone watched as Tomoyo leaned close and whispered a few words. Everyone watched, some amazed—for this would be their first and last time seeing The Boss. 'The Boss' was nothing more than a girl that looked like she could be snapped in half by a strong wind. Eyelids lifted revealing glassy green eyes framed by long golden-brown hair. The room was silent and all eyes were on the pair by the couch in front of the fireplace in the darkened room.

After a few more moments, The Boss nodded to the whispers of Tomoyo and eventually stood on her own, threading a hand through her hair to the tips that hung loose around her waist like an unholy shroud. Tomoyo politely let go once the girl was steady and bowed slightly to her as she headed out the door, leaning on it slightly after stumbling.

"Russia," she called out in the same curt, bored response as earlier before stepping outside the door.

Tomoyo's eyes glanced over at one of the girls by the door and gave the faintest nod before she slipped out to follow their leader.

Eyes were wide. Thoughts were scattered. The feared 'Boss' was nothing more than a girl that didn't look any older than Tomoyo—possibly younger even. The one whose orders were responsible for a couple hundred deaths of Federation officials, guards and three of its presidents was probably around twenty years old. Seeing that that almost sickly-looking girl held the ominous title that others could only refer to her by as 'The Boss' was a little humiliating. For a long time, there were theories on her identity and who she could be. None even came close.

It was now that Tomoyo turned her attention back to the table—good instinct being around criminals for so long. Far more likely to get a bullet in the back of your head if you didn't. A wide smile was once again applied to her face as she stalked back over to her usual spot. With a quick glance at each of the men at the table, she took out her magnum once more. The calm that spread unconsciously at seeing the much-feared Boss, who didn't seem so scary after all, instantly disappeared. Even if that girl was not scary, Tomoyo certainly was.

"Any further questions or complaints? Good," she smiled. "Well now, the name of the game is strip poker. You each have two lifelines. Bottom two are reaper's seats. Yes, Vance?" she asked, seeing the grim question in his eyes.

"I shouldn't be here. I didn't even do anything to her."

A grin. "Too bad. Boys, gentlemen, let the betting be—"

"I SHOULDN'T BE HERE!" came the strangled cry from Vance, tears running down his face now, lunging on the table bawling by now, revealing his hand to be a pair of threes—being the lowest hand of them all. Even so, he had one lifeline left.

"Rankings will be recorded after discipline." Tomoyo only smiled crookedly. "Ruby, prepare the roulette."

***

Li groaned as he landed on the ground, slamming against the wall. Not even being given time to nurse his bruising sides, his collar was pulled viciously up, whipping his head back. Angry golden eyes stared back at him.

"They saw your damn face! You're all over the freaking news! What the hell is wrong with you getting your picture taken, Li?" Kero yelled an inch away from his face.

Upon managing a pathetic attempt to glare back through his one good eye Li blew air into Kero's face. Kero wasn't amused. "Well hell, Kero, if you had told me about that damn Fed blocking my only exit, maybe, just maybe I wouldn't be Russia's man most wanted dead!"

With an aggravated growl, Kero let go of Li's collar and swung around, stuffing hands in his pockets, pulling his scarf around him tighter. Despite being dressed all in black, his signature flaming golden hair was a dead giveaway in any condition. Even so, Kero had the superior ability to make himself scarce when he needed to be. Pacing around the room in frustration, Kero vented. Eventually kicking a hole in the wall he growled louder, taking his hands out of his pockets and scratching his head in frustration before kicking the wall again.

The first thing that Li was greeted with was a punch to the face upon seeing Kero. After that he had been dragged back to their hideout and beaten within an inch of his life. Underneath all the black clothing, only the black eye Li sported indicated any bodily harm was done.

Wiping a hand over his face, Kero turned back to Li. "You gotta lay low for a while," he said, shaking his head. It was the only option. "You and me."

Li pushed against the wall, managing to stand to his feet; hoping the seeping cold would numb some pain. Hunching over, Li ran a black gloved hand through his hair. Looking up at Kero somewhat blearily, he gave a tired look. It was no use to ever argue with Kero. It never was.

"Where to? I don't even know if I can get out of the country the way it is. The Feds in North America and China still remember how I stole goods and blamed it on the gov to start that damn war three years back."

Kero shook his head. "No, no, not there. Shot on sight, buddy. I'm thinking Japan."

"Bubble capital?" Li returned incredulously.

With a nod of his head, Kero sat down on the battered green couch behind him. It had definitely seen better days. "Yeah. As long as you stay away from The Boss you should be fine for a month or two until this all blows over. While you're in hiding, I'll see about selling your hard work."

Li raised an eyebrow. "The Boss?" he questioned.

Pursing his lips, Kero cupped a hand over his mouth bracingly. "You don't want to know. This guy's got a lot of blood on his hands. No heart, man. One word from him and you're lucky to be alive in the next five minutes. Eyes friggin' everywhere. Remember Qi'shu way back?"

"Damn hell I do. Almost had my throat gutted by one of them. Biggest friggin' gang in China at the time. Glad they're gone."

"Yeah, that was his doing. Q insulted him big time and the next thing anyone knew his sorry carcass was found run up the Chinese flag pole in front of the Fed building a week later. Perps weren't even caught. Cleanest job I ever seen."

Eyebrows shot up and Li gave him an incredulous look. The Qi'shu had employed the meanest, roughest criminals this side of the planet. From the corrupt government to the smuggling ring in China, the Qi'shu were the ones pulling the strings. In about a span of a week, they had all been found dead—every single one of them right up to the man known only as Q. Word quickly spread and the only explanation given was 'The Boss.'

Sighing, Li shut his eyes. "Great, if I run into the Feds I'm dead. If I run into this guy, I'm worse than dead. Seriously though, Japan? It's like the Fed capital of the world! And I have to stay outta this lunatic's way? Are you trying to kill me, Kero?"

Kero shook his head, sighing. "Australia is on a tight lockdown right now or I'd send you there instead. Look, it's only gonna be for couple months. Just lay low, change your name—or rather, use your name, Syaoran—"

"Xiaolang, thank you, very much."

"Whatever. Keep your nose clean. Get a job. A real one. I already nabbed you a fake passport with a clean record—don't ruin it until I say so. You've already destroyed five already and Rita's throwing fits," he said, tossing the red little book at Li. The phoenix emblem that China had adopted was printed in gold on the front. "Flight's in three. Get your sorry butt on that plane and outta this damn cold country, or I'm not bailing you out of prison this time."

Pushing off the wall, Li walked across the room, slinging his black backpack over one arm. When something buzzed in his pocket, he reached inside and pulled out his phone. Scowling at it, he moved to put it back in his pocket.

"Whoa, whoa—who is it?" Kero asked, nodding at his phone.

"Feimei, as usual. Probably to whine about how I'm on the news again—in a different country. That or to drag me back home so my mother can kill me."

"Pass it," Kero said, as Li handed him his phone. Flipping the device open, a holographic image of Li's sister came into view. The phone hovered in the air as her image was projected like a screen. Her eyes were narrowed into a scowl and it looked like she was ready to kill someone. "Yo, chicka! What's shakin'?"

"Kero you bastard. Hand it to my brother. Where is Xiao?" she demanded, tapping her finger impatiently, eyes skimming over probably to a nearby clock.

Feimei worked for Federation as the head of the Chinese Immigrations Department and was fluent in twenty different languages including two not in use. Feimei was the oldest out of them all and had chosen the studious life to pursue a career with Federation in liaison with the Chinese government. It was more than likely that she had broken some laws and used her authority to cover for Li's sake.

Grinning, Kero looked up at Li—who had his back turned to him. "Sorry, babe, he's not in right now. What can I do fer ya?"

Brute anger swept her features and she slammed both hands down on her desk. Kero winced. "You damn—! Where the hell is my little brother? I want to talk to him right now you crook!"

Kero's eyes shifted up to Li once more. A finger was placed at his lips and he jabbed his thumb at the doorway, indicating that he was leaving in the next five seconds. Sitting back against the couch, Kero tilted his head at her.

"I love you too, Feimei. Your baby brother is busy right now. Go harass someone else related to you," Kero said bluntly, winking at her. "Bye," he deadpanned leaning forward to the floating phone.

"Wait! No! Kero, you—!"

With a blip, the image disappeared and Kero snatched the device out of the air, tossing it over to Li. "You need to change your number, buddy. Your sister's hot, but she's damn annoying."

Li frowned in frustration. "I do. All the time. She's engaged to the head of the International Information Bureau. His network is larger than yours."

Kero smirked, clasping his hands together. "I can guarantee it's not. Now move it. Don't keep Maz waiting or she'll have my head. A special flight is arranged for you. I'll see you in Japan in three months."

Li walked out the door. He didn't need to ask how Kero was getting out of the country; he didn't need to. Kero was like a ghost with literally no name on file—a person who didn't exist on paper. One day Kero would show up in front of him and they would continue doing what they were doing. Pulling the collar of his black trench coat a bit higher, Li put on goggles and a black hat before disappearing into the blizzard of white.

***

Tokyo.

It was dirty, it was corrupt and it was the only city to live in its own protective bubble. You could look up into the sky and see a blue sky that once was real—a couple hundred years ago. Now it was all simulated with artificial colouring and light. Those born in this city, unless they left Tokyo, never saw the real sky even once. If you looked up at the sky at the right time when the false sun was high you could see the sheen of the protective coating covering the city like a glass dome.

Japan had long ago seen the worst of global warming and successive cycle of cooling. It wasn't until 2462 that Kraenn Kurosawa, a part-Japanese, part-Russian, part-something else native-born came up with the concept of what was known commonly today as 'The Bubble.' With the wickedly changing climate conditions ravaging Japan, the people needed something to protect themselves from the harsh elements.

With the arrival and rapid advancement of laser technology in the previous century, a dome had been developed that was easily expandable, expendable, and, most importantly of all, controllable. It was able to generate and influence any kind of weather that the citizens wanted. The dome itself took a good four decades to perfect, but it had finally been done and was erected just after Japan had its fair share of temperate climate and was starting to turn bitterly cold like everything else.

Five-hundred years later, Tokyo and its citizens lived in their bubble like it was still the 21st century and long-since forgot what the real sky looked like. Everything was regulated by the bubble that had to do with atmosphere and was programmed to run automatically according to the time of the year.

Looking up at the false sky with a dazed look on her face, she showed no sign of moving. Having stood there for a quarter of an hour already, looking up at the sky, she had received plenty of odd looks her way. To everyone who looked at her, she was just some girl, standing in the middle of a park, staring at a fake sky.

Finally closing her eyes, she looked around her—as if she had just woken up and was getting a bearing for her surroundings. The park was clean. They were always clean. The robots everywhere made sure of that. People didn't actually do anything anymore. Tokyo was a city that virtually ran on its own from the shops and even the lower branches of government.

Fluffing her pink skirt out a bit before proceeding, she crossed the street and walked down the busy sidewalk—not really taking in anything around her. The guard positioned to follow her moved from her spot on the bench reading the newspaper and blended in and disappeared with the crowd. Tomoyo was really too cautious sometimes. It couldn't be helped. No one alive other than Tomoyo and precious few others knew what The Boss looked like.

Being pushed roughly to the side of a wall, she winced. The one responsible for doing so was a middle-aged man with a mean scowl on his face. She frowned at him slightly in displeasure and he glared at her before muttering a 'Watch where you're going,' towards her before pressing onwards through the mill of the crowd. Narrowing her eyes, she felt irritation crease her brow until it passed. It wasn't good to start axing common nobodies.

Deciding it was time to lose her guard, she ducked down her usual alley and pressed against the wall, tapping her pink-faced watch. Instantly, she heard the buzz and held still. Moments later the guard arrived at the dead-end alley and looked around alarmingly. Bodyguards who failed in keeping tabs on her often didn't live very long. She didn't care. Where there was one there were thousands more to replace them. Pulling out her phone, the black-suited woman muttered a few codes into it and snapped it shut before disappearing into the blend of the crowd.

Smiling, she kept her head turned towards her direction—incase she made a desperate u-turn. When something bumped into her, she yelped and was knocked over, falling to the ground on her behind. Looking up she saw a boy staring down at her with bright amber eyes. They looked clear. Innocent. Almost in awe, he stood there, staring at the girl he had just knocked over as the rush hour mill of the crowd had slowly died down to a few errant stragglers.

Belatedly coming to his senses, he gave her an awkward smile and offered his hand to help her up. "I'm so sorry, that was completely my fault. Are you okay?"

Taking his hand, she felt herself quickly pulled up so that it disoriented her slightly. On a second look, up-close, she blinked. He was already handsome as it was and the golden brown eyes only heightened his appeal. For a few short seconds, she scanned his appearance over. Although she felt that she had seen those eyes somewhere, she couldn't place from where. Chinese. By the looks of his clothing and the black backpack over his shoulder he was probably just a regular student—a kid.

"Are… you okay?" he repeated, brow creasing in concern.

Blinking, she shook herself out of her daze. "Oh, yes, fine, thank you. Don't worry about it. I…"

Eyes widening, she saw the familiar bodyguard turning the corner. Seeing her distress, the boy gave a quick look over his shoulder and turned back to her; grabbing her hand. Bolting down the street with her in tow, she turned back around and saw the bodyguard starting to run after her—having caught sight of her again. Holding her fanning hair against the speed of their chase, she had no choice but to go wherever this boy was taking her.

After ducking down a few alleys, and through a building, and down a fire escape; they ran back into the park as the boy fumbled for something in his pocket. Swinging around the large trunk of a tree, he pressed her against it, attaching a hairclip to her hair. There was a buzzing sound in her ear and her eyes widened as he leaned close—touching their foreheads together. The boy's soft, warm breath passed her lips before she pursed them shut. Up close, those eyes of his only looked more attractive—looking in the direction of their pursuit. The heeled footfalls of her bodyguard on the pavement approached and passed them completely by.

"She's gone," he said, looking back at her. Jumping a bit, eyes widening, he backed up, almost falling over, holding a hand over his mouth, yelping an apology.

Smiling, she pushed her messy hair behind her and stopped when she saw black strands replaced her brown ones. Touching the clip in her hair, she felt its shape; it was that of a flower. A device. A portable disguise. Looking down, she saw that it looked like she was wearing black jeans and a red vest over a white T-shirt.

"Are you a Devicer?" she asked, blinking up at him.

Eyebrows perking, he blinked. Lifting his hands up, he waved them at her reassuringly. "No, no, I'm not, honest. I just… get bullied a lot so I've learned to escape pretty quickly and pretty successfully. Those things are stupidly expensive, but not as uncommon as people think."

Grinning at him, she raised an eyebrow. "Those who say they're honest are usually liars."

Laughing, he shook his head. "Are you kidding me? I couldn't lie to save my life! My name is Syaoran, by the way," he said, holding his hand out, smiling. "Nice to meet you."

Eyes shifting down at his outstretched hand for a moment before they swung back up to his face, she clasped her hands behind her back; cocking her head at him. "Kin. Sakura Kin. It's short for… but you can call me Kin. Sakura is fine too, I guess."

"Sakura…" he repeated slowly, as if testing her name. "The name of a flower, right? A pretty one. That was pretty intense back there... Why were you being chased?" he questioned as a look of confusion bridged his brow.

Sakura smirked. "Haven't you ever heard of a wild flower?"

***

"…call for change! Peace! Freedom! Gentlemen, I ask that you grant me your support to make these changes happen! I have no desire to see the travesty that occurred to me to happen to any of our citizens! As the current and long-time president of Federation, I promise you, the good people, that I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety against all that threatens you!"

The man up front gave a hard-pressed stare into the small crowd in front of him and millions of floating, flashing cameras, creating a perpetual spotlight on the stage. Closing his eyes dramatically, bowing his head, he let out a long sigh before continuing.

"A couple years ago, I lost my most precious thing in the world, other than my beautiful wife and son, to the disease that attempts to rot our peace and security from within. My daughter. Barely even four when she was stolen from me. Right now… I don't even know where she is," he said, holding a hand up to his temple as if the memory pained him and he was ready to cry at any second at the cruel reminder.

There were a few gracious nods from the audience in front of him. The story had been told every once in a while and always, somehow, managed to draw out the same sympathetic emotions that had kept him president of Federation for the last thirty-three years without fail. The man was certainly ambitious—ambitious enough to have stolen the presidential seat when he was only twenty.

Pounding a hand on the podium, he looked back into the eyes of his audience with conviction. "Know this: I fight only for the sake of the people! I won't allow the travesty that happened to me happen to you! Federation will flush out the deviants that prey on the weak and innocent!" he declared proudly, pounding his hand on the podium once more for effect.

After a few more moments of blinding flashes, and the denial of billions of questions by the media, the president exited off the stage and sighed in aggravation. Standing by the door of his only exit was probably the bane of his existence and he scowled accordingly.

"Stop using her as a scapegoat, Dad," he said threateningly, staring straight ahead as the president passed him.

Snorting, the president continued on through the door, ignoring his son. Sonomi Daidouji, his secretary, sister-in-law and Chief of State Affairs, scowled at him as he came into view. They bore a mutual dislike and the only thing tying them together at all was Nadeshiko. Cradled in her arms was a clipboard. As he came closer, the scowl turned into a smirk.

"I can't believe you gave that sop story again, Kinomoto."

"That's President Kinomoto to you, Daidouji."

"It's disgusting," she said without hesitation, stepping in tune beside him. "I heard you passed a new legislation without my knowledge. Again," she added with emphasized displeasure. "You'll have to inform me of these dumb regulations you keep passing. People aren't animals and don't need to be tagged and marked like you want them to so you can 'ensure their safety' by 'violating their privacy' to do so."

"Will you just shut up?" he hissed. "Frankly, your libertarian views are starting to grind on my nerves. I didn't tell you about it because I knew you would object."

"With good reason," she shot back, her voice pitching higher.

Sighing, he entered his office where Nadeshiko was spinning around in his leather chair, coming to a full stop upon seeing the two of them enter his office suite. Giving her a small smile, he turned back to Sonomi with a patronizing look she only glowered at. Folding his arms in a conciliatory manner—he didn't like to argue with his wife's cousin in front of her—Fujitaka prepared to make some compromises.

"Fine. What do you want to do about the legislation that will make you happy and get off my back?"

"Torch it."

The frown deepened.

Before he could open his mouth to retort, there was a gentle hand on his shoulder and he looked into her worried green eyes. "Darling, the legislation is a bit extreme... I think…" she added, casting her eyes downward.

A triumphant smile passed Sonomi's lips and she folded her arms over the clipboard exultantly. When Nadeshiko was on her side, it was just about impossible to win against the woman who was only his secretary. Right about now he wanted to strangle that disgusting smile off her face.

Shoulders slumping, he rubbed his temple. "Alright, alright, I'll make some amendments."

Nadeshiko brightened.

"Thank you. I know Sakura will be happy… wherever she may be right now. I just hope that she's safe and happy somewhere…"

Sonomi shot him a dangerous look and Fujitaka merely hugged his wife tightly. "Me too, dear. I'll be home in a couple hours; I need to discuss a few more things with Sonomi and in time for dinner. I don't know about Tory, you'll have to call him yourself. Love you," he whispered gently, placing a kiss on her forehead before ushering her out the door.

After closing the door behind her, he turned around to see Sonomi leaning against his desk. Her arms were folded in their usual unhappy manner and the reticent frown on her face saying more than words ever could. Fujitaka sighed again, walking around past her to sit in his chair. Sonomi turned around and slammed both her hands flat on the desk.

"You bastard. You haven't even told her the truth yet! That the only reason you have this seat right now is because of your daughter; that you've been lying to all of Federation these past thirty years!"

The frown returned.

"Sakura was a necessary sacrifice."

Gritting her teeth, Sonomi leaned over and struck him across. The crack of sound shot through the air and was absorbed by the walls lined with bookshelves and hundreds of books. The President didn't even move. With a disgusted look, Sonomi turned around and walked towards the door, pausing for a moment.

"You're a cold-hearted bastard, Kinomoto."

The door swung shut behind her and Fujitaka swivelled around in his chair, looking out the window behind him.

Federation's President could only offer a smile.

***

The phone buzzed, slowly crawling across the table. Li rolled over and glared at it. The glowing letters hovering in the air with Kero's name scrolled in a marquee. Glaring at it a little harder, Li closed his eyes until the phone fell off the nightstand. Popping open of its own volition, the image of Kero wearing a hat to cover his hair and dark thick glasses popped up. The phone started to hover—adjusting to its owner's height. Even in the dead of night, miles and miles away, Kero still somehow managed to bother him.

"Li! You awake, man? Listen, I don't have much time to talk to you—"

"So don't," Li supplied snappily, rolling over.

The phone annoyingly swivelled around in the air, bringing him face to face with Kero once more. Li chastised himself for not shutting that feature off for some reason. There was a glare on Kero's face and Li groaned, hugging his pillow tighter to him.

"Listen to me when I'm saving your sorry ass, Li. Look, I ran into some news recently about our beloved Feds. You know the Kinomoto family that runs Fed? Well, turns out they have some nasty secrets. Remember when I told you about The Boss? Li! For damn sake's man, listen to me!"

Sighing in exasperation, Li glanced up at the time. Four-thirty-two; AM. Shifting his weight, he sat up in bed, looking blearily at the glowing face of Kero. Letting out another sigh, frustrated, Li hugged the pillow to his stomach.

"This better be good, Kero."

"Damn straight it is. Anyway, you'll NEVER guess who The Boss is. The Boss is a chick! Her name is actually Sakura Kinomoto. The thorn in his side this entire time and his ticket to presidency is his own friggin' flesh and blood! Can you believe that?"

That name sounded familiar for some reason.

"Here's a picture. I'm sending it over."

Another display opened to the right and showed the picture of a cute little girl with striking green eyes and short auburn hair. Cute kid. Nothing special. So the big, bad, scary Boss was actually a chick—big deal. The women in the Qi'shu were legendary demons before they got snuffed out.

"Cute. So what?"

Kero frowned. Li never truly appreciated the information he got from Kero for free. They both knew it.

"You know what, Li? You need to turn off your jerk switch. Here's another picture of what she might look like today."

When another picture opened up on the left, Li's eyes widened in horror.

Sakura Kin.

Sakura Kinomoto.

First and Second-Last Note to Reviewers:

If you like it, please review. If you hate it, you're more than welcome to review as well, but please tell me at least why you hate it. Gosh. That's immature if you don't. Also, as a first and semi-final note to everyone, the speed at which I update this particular story (or whether I update it at all) is based entirely on you. If you want to know what happens next, well, let me know and I'll be happy to tell you. If you don't, I'm taking that as you don't care or you have stopped reading it. I enjoy writing and plan to finish this story for personal reasons. If you want to read the rest of it, please review and let me know otherwise I will leave you in the dark.

Ahead of time, thank you for everyone who has, will and plans to leave me a review for Liar Game. I'm very much obliged. The only reason I post my writings up online anywhere is all for you guys. So, with all that said, I hope you enjoy my tale of destruction and deceit; that my lies become your obsession and you don't get too caught up in the game at hand.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.