Disclaimer: CLAMP.
revised 51907.
Loveless: A Composition on Pain
(shine brighter for me, please, so that i can still see you when you leave.)
A cheerful banner stretched across Tomoeda Elementary School's entrance. Welcome Back! It read cheerfully, and the doors were opened invitingly. A sigh broke through many, as they walked through familiar doors, padded through familiar halls and memories came rushing back. They weren't children anymore, these people, all adults, or at least in a figurative sense. They varied in ages of 17, the youngest students, to people in their 50s, teachers, who had been offered better jobs, but never forgot where they came from.
The children they once were, seemed to be a lost memory, and exclamations of, "Hey! I drew this here in fifth grade!" to declarations of, "Do you remember, Saki? This was our favorite lunch spot!" were all tinged wistfully, and eagerly, these adults became children again. A few were missing from their ranks, evidently, Tomoyo for one, was 21 now, and seemingly even more busy then she once was. She had promised Sakura and Syaoran, still her best friends, though, that she would try to make it, and as Sakura and Syaoran wandered the halls, they wondered vaguely where their friend was. But they weren't children anymore either, and the clasped hands, flushed cheeks and glittering ring on her finger confirmed it.
Most stayed to the lower floors, and the outside, as that was where many of their classes had been, the upper floors reserved for the music rooms and the library. So most didn't hear the strands of melancholy music coming from a certain music room. At exactly a quarter to 2, one certain Daidouji Tomoyo found her way to Tomoeda Elementary School, and after hesitating at the front steps, stepped softly up, and pushed her way through.
Oh, she knew these faces, didn't she? There was Rika, and there was Chiharu and Yamazaki, and oh! There were Sakura and Syaoran and just as she were about to wave to them and call out a greeting, they turned around and Syaoran whispered something in her ear, pointing to a cherry tree, and Sakura first blushed, then giggled, the wind blowing her auburn hair back. Tomoyo closed her mouth, and a sad, wistful look descended on her face, and only the barest smiles played at the corners of her mouth.
She excused her way through the crowd, but it was at the stairwell that she felt the anxieties, the ugly emotions fade away. She touched the familiar banister, and smiled as she traced the intricate pattern along the end. She alighted gracefully, and the floors were like nothing, until she reached the top and she breathed in the familiar, slightly musky smell. This was where she felt most comfortable, surrounded by music. And speaking of…
She frowned, as she neared her music room. (Yes, she thought of it as hers, she did spend an impossible amount of time there when she attended this school.) A melancholy, heart wrenchingly sad, but breathtakingly melody played, and Tomoyo could feel her heartache in this song. Her hand rested on the doorknob, and all she wanted to do was sit down, slide against the door, close her eyes and let the music drift her someplace else. But her grip on the doorknob tightens, and unwilling, it twists open and the door opens with the creak of being unused, and the music stops abruptly.
No, she wants to cry out, please don't stop. But it does and it's all her fault and she needs to step in now and for some reason, this scares her more than anything else. She doesn't want to see the face of the nameless composer because whoever it is will disappoint her, she's sure. She keeps her eyes to the ground and shuts them tightly, because maybe if she can't see whoever it is, they won't be able to see her either. But she hears the piano bench being pushed back gently, the lid being closed gently, and she can already tell that whoever it is loves the piano, loves music.
She stands there, the door not fully open, not fully closed, hand still on doorknob and eyes still tightly closed. She feels the door being pulled open, (gently of course) and she feels a warm hand on her wrist. Long, pianist's fingers resting on her pulse, there is nothing that can get any more real. She still doesn't open her eyes, for fear of breaking a daydream that does not belong to her. Another hand tilts her chin up, eyes still closed, and she feels his (she can tell he's male now, gentleness aside) breath on her face.
"Tomoyo-san?" The astonishment is prominent in his voice, and oh, she knows this voice, and it's okay to open her eyes, because she's sure she won't be disappointed.
Her eyes fly open and a half smile breaks out on her face. "Hiiragizawa-kun!" And in an awkward dance only two people who have known each other forever can perform, they manage to perform an awkward hug-kiss, with her leaning in to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek and him leaning in to hug her slim body to his. The result is her lips pressed somewhere underneath his ear, her hands and arms trapped somewhere at her sides. She can smell his familiar Hiiragizawa-kun smell, comforting, though spicy. He can smell her familiar Tomoyo-san smell, flowery, but cold.
He lets go, just as she pulls back, and they stare at each other for a few minutes, and it's Eriol who breaks the (not really) awkward silence, and asks her, "Why were you standing outside?"
Tomoyo grits her teeth in an embarrassed smile and replies, "Well, I didn't expect anyone to be up here, and you know, I wanted to come here…you know, I was feeling horribly sentimental…you know."
And he did know, because he saw what others could not. There was desperation in her eyes, something that begged him to understand and push any further, because she didn't know herself right now. He smiled softly, "Did you see Kaho and her new husband downstairs?" He tried to keep his tone light, but she saw the hurt and he saw her eyes light up because, oh she knows because she understands.
She opens her mouth, and then closes it, changing her mind, something she has been doing a lot lately. "What song was that?" She gestures vaguely into the room, toward the piano that is still beautiful, the keys still gleaming ivory, stuck somewhere in the past where it was beloved and was cleaned meticulously, to give it the water (smooth) sound it has.
He closes his eyes, and when he opens they're more guarded, shielding a hurt she's never seen before. "I'll play it for you," he says quietly, and because she is curious, she complies. She perches on the window seat, throwing a Tomoyo-shaped shadow over the grand piano. He takes a seat quietly and opens the piano lid.
His fingers brush over the piano keys and he begins to play.
-/-
(He begins to play and she begins to listen and they both learn something and they both lose something.)
