Sugar Baby
Chapter 1 | "Stay"

Maybe all of her dignity spiraled down the drain in that hospital room, where she had watched her father's prone body expel one last breath. It was too soon for her to be going through this again. Just a year earlier, she had witnessed her older brother do the same. She was motherless before she had even started elementary school, and now she was going to start college without a father or sibling.

She was the only one left.

In spite of all the hardship in her life, however, Sakura was never one to give up. She certainly wasn't going to start now. She knew she was a smart girl— maybe not street smart, but she was definitely book smart. She knew she had the potential to make something of herself.

The only obstacle was the outrageous tuition for the prestigious university she had been accepted to. She hadn't exactly been born into a well-to-do family, and being the beneficiary to all of her father's assets (or lack thereof) was merely evidence of that fact.

It didn't matter to her, though. She had been happy, penniless, with her little family. Money was stupid. It was stupid, but she understood that currency ran the world.

She had ruminated her options. There was no way she would be approved for a loan. And it wasn't as if she hadn't won any scholarships— she did. But the scholarships weren't enough. Grants weren't enough, either. Not with the school she was going to attend.

She could have put her dream school on hold and enrolled herself into a junior college, but she was too stubborn for that plan. There was a way for her to work around the financial issue; she knew it. It wasn't going to be easy, and it wasn't going to be moral… but she lost all her dignity in that hospital room, after all.

Maybe it was her lack of dignity that helped her stomach the nausea as she sat in front of a computer in the public library, scrolling through profile after profile on a website designed specially for female students seeking benefactors.

'Benefactor' was really just a fancy word for 'sugar daddy.'

Some profiles included a photo, many of which caused Sakura to quickly avert her eyes. It was clear as to why these older men were willing to pay for companionship. They had failed to find a partner in their youth, and now they were lonely. (And rich.)

Just pick one, she urged herself. Her fingers curled over the computer mouse. Her knuckles whitened. She felt the nausea intensify, but her face remained placid. Pick the next profile that comes up.

The next profile belonged to a man who was 45 years old, much younger than many of the other candidates. It didn't mean he was any less shady, so Sakura didn't understand why she felt even the faintest glimmer of relief. There was no phone number. Just an e-mail address.

To: anonwolf
From: skinomoto
Subject: Hello.

My name is Sakura. I am about to start college. I need help paying for it. I also need help with finding a place to live.

To: skinomoto
From: anonwolf
Subject: Re:Hello.

Hello, Sakura. I will refrain from introductions because I am assuming you read my profile. I have two questions for you.

1. How old are you?
2. Are you pretty?

To: anonwolf
From: skinomoto
Subject: Re:Hello.

1. I'm 18 years old.
2. I'm not ugly.

To: skinomoto
From: anonwolf
Subject: Re:Hello.

Perfect.

The plan was to meet at his condominium, which was located in the nicest part of a city six hours away. If everything played out according to what they discussed over e-mail, they would only be sitting and talking tonight, getting to know each other. Simple enough. After their talk, he would make arrangements for her to stay at a nearby hotel… unless she wanted to stay overnight.

As Sakura sat in the bus on the way to the city, she fought every flicker of emotion that came her way. She was dressed in her nicest clothes: a white, billowy blouse and a black high-waist skirt. Her soft brown hair was pinned back. It was the most she could do. There was pepper spray in her purse and the only thing she let herself think about was the one class she took two years ago on self-defense. She couldn't remember much.

Sakura didn't have to step off that bus. She didn't have to walk down the block and pinpoint the exact location of the condo. But she did, she did all of that on her own, and there was no turning back.

The lobby of the building was clean and quiet, with pearlescent floors and granite walls. The elevators were just as nice.

He lived on the top floor, in the penthouse. Sakura stood alone in the elevator, thinking of this faceless 'benefactor.' She wondered what he had done to become so wealthy at the age of 45. Perhaps there was already money in the family. He still had plenty of time to find a partner, so why was he choosing to seek companionship in young women? She needed to stop asking questions, otherwise she would chicken out. She had already come this far.

They were just going to talk, after all.

Once she reached the door of the penthouse, she lifted her fist and poised it in front of the mahogany— there's still time to turn back— and knocked. Two minutes of silence passed before Sakura mustered up the courage to knock again. Deep down inside, she hoped the door would never open.

But it did, and the unthinkable happened.

"Can I help you?"

His voice was deep and youthful. He wasn't 45 years old— not even close. In fact, he appeared to be about her age. He stood several inches taller than her, with mussed brown hair and an intense, copper gaze.

Every ounce of fear Sakura felt leading up to this moment became overlapped with confusion, and it left her feeling sick. This wasn't right.

"You… live here? Just you?" she croaked. She had finally found her voice.

"Yeah. Just me." He lifted a brow, scrutinizing her. He leaned against the threshold, his hand still grasping the doorknob. "Are you looking for someone in particular?"

"Syaoran Li."

"That's me."

"Then I guess I'm looking for you." Sakura paused before slowly adding, "But the Syaoran Li I'm looking for is 45 years old, and incredibly wealthy, and… was willing to pay for my college tuition… if I…"

Syaoran pursed his lips, watching as Sakura struggled with her words. He said nothing. He merely stood and waited.

"I sat in a bus for six hours expecting… not you, but…" There was a knot in her throat now. She lifted her hands to cup her face. "Oh, god. It all sounds so stupid when I say it out loud."

Sighing, Syaoran took note of Sakura's gleaming green eyes. "Are you going to cry? I don't know you, but I believe you when you say you spent six hours in a bus to come here, because you definitely look like it."

"What's that supposed to m—"

"Do you want to come in?"

"W-what?"

"Do you want to come in." The second time didn't sound so much like a question. "I was raised to keep the promises I make. Apparently, I've promised to sit and talk with you. I can't say anything about your college tuition, but we can talk."

"I…" Sakura's hands were still on her face. She moved her fingers over her eyes, where tears threatened to fall. The burning sensation in her throat made it difficult for her to say anything at all.

"At the very least, let me give you a tissue and a glass of water."

Cradling her head in her hands, Sakura managed a nod.

"What's your name?"

"S-Sakura," she mumbled in a strained voice. "Sakura Kinomoto."

"Miss Kinomoto—"

Sakura dropped her hands from her face. It was almost comical, hearing someone her age address her so formally. It must have been another thing he was raised to do.

Syaoran pulled the door back and stepped aside.

"—come inside and have a seat."

There was a small pile of balled-up tissues on the coffee table at Sakura's knees. She lifted the glass of water to her lips and finished every last drop in less than a minute. Syaoran crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter not too far away, watching her.

"So… a sugar daddy, huh?"

"I-I'm sorry?" Sakura placed the empty glass on the coffee table, knitting her brows and looking at Syaoran. She had exhausted herself from spending the last twenty minutes crying, but now that it was out of her system and she had a bit of hydration, she could think with a little more clarity.

She stared at Syaoran from her spot on the couch. It was unfathomable, how she ended up conversing with a handsome young man instead of a questionable, middle-aged stranger.

"It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. You're broke, right? You're about to start college and you're desperate for money to pay for it. You came here looking for your sugar daddy— some old, lonely guy who will pay you to spend time with him. Doesn't always involve sex, but it usually does…" Syaoran trailed off for a moment as Sakura looked away. "But instead, you got me."

"So, the person I've been e-mailing…"

"I don't know how that person got a hold of my information, but that wasn't me." Syaoran left the counter and moved toward Sakura, sitting himself down on the other side of the leather couch. "I'm not 45 years old, I'm not lonely, and I'm not looking for sugar babies. The only true thing on that profile is that I have money."

Sakura moved her gaze to meet Syaoran's once more. His face was solemn. She couldn't read his emotions, and she could only imagine what he was thinking. He must think I'm an idiot. She certainly felt like one.

"Thank you for the water." Sakura sighed, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. She grabbed the soiled tissues from the coffee table. "I'm sorry for doing this— coming out of nowhere and wasting your time and all. I won't waste any more of it."

Syaoran stood from the couch, rubbing the back of his head. "Wait a second…"

"You were kind enough to let me in and explain things to me," Sakura continued, her voice trembling slightly. "Even though you didn't have to…"

"Okay, look." Syaoran let out a long exhale as he pushed a hand through his hair. "Do you know what time it is? It's almost midnight. It's late. It took you six hours to get here. Now what? You're just going to go back?"

Sakura sank her teeth into her tongue, dropping her gaze. She shrugged. "What else is there for me to do?"

"And then I suppose you're just going to get back on a computer and find another 'benefactor'?"

Sakura fell silent.

Syaoran sighed again. "I don't know much about you— not much at all, really. We're strangers. So why does my opinion matter, right? You're free to do as you please." He paused, thinking for a bit. "But you are putting yourself in danger. I don't know if you realize that, or if you even care. You want the money so bad that you're not thinking rationally. You're not thinking of the consequences."

Still, Sakura said nothing.

"Your parents, your family. Don't they—"

"They're gone. All of them."

"I see." Syaoran's voice grew quieter. "Is there anyone you can—"

"No one," interjected Sakura, her voice cracking. "Where I'll end up is something that I need to figure out on the bus ride back."

"Back where, exactly?"

"I'm not sure."

"Then stay."

Sakura blinked in disbelief.

"W-what?" she stammered.

Syaoran averted his eyes. "I'm a decent human being, okay? It's not safe for someone like you to be wandering around this late at night. You're just asking to get hurt, aren't you?"

"You don't have to do this…"

"Do what? It's nothing. You get my couch, a blanket, and a pillow. Coffee in the morning. And then you get to leave. I have a conscience, you know, and a busy day tomorrow. I won't get any sleep knowing I let some innocent girl wander the streets at this hour. Then I'll be too tired to get anything done."

Sakura hesitated, unsure of what to say.

"So if you won't do it for yourself, do it for the sanity of the guy who gave you tissues and water."

It was unbelievable. He was offering her hospitality— insisting, even. They were virtual strangers, and yet he seemed to dread the thought of Sakura venturing out into the night almost as much as she did. At that moment, she knew she had to decide between a sleepless six-hour bus ride filled with decisions to make, or a warm night on this young man's couch.

Coffee in the morning.

"Okay," Sakura finally said, nodding dejectedly.

"Okay." There was the slightest hint of relief in Syaoran's voice. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Sakura watched Syaoran disappear into the hallway. She set her bag down on the coffee table again.

The fact that this stranger was showing her this much kindness was enough to make her want to cry again. Admittedly, she felt pretty pathetic. She was turning into a charity case. The night had turned out to be nothing like she anticipated, and for some bizarre, unknown reason… she was a little glad.

Syaoran returned with a large pillow and a thick, wool blanket. He placed them on the couch before turning to Sakura.

He avoided her melancholy gaze and cleared his throat. "I'm not a creep, so don't worry about me doing anything weird to you, alright?"

"Alright," Sakura replied, steadying her eyes on the couch. "You're the nicest stranger I've ever met, Syaoran Li. Thank you."

"Rest well, Miss Kinomoto."

"Just Sakura, please."

"Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning."

A/N: Hi, friends! I'm back with a new story. Not too sure if I'm happy with this first chapter as I'm a bit rusty, but I promise it'll get better and much, much more interesting. I would love to hear from you all, so please leave a review and I'll see you in the next chapter!