Free of Torment
by ^death^ Himura

I cannot stay here...

*

"Tomoyo-chan! Tomoyo-chan! I have the -greatest- news!" She spun around wildly, her face aglow with love and warmth. Her eyes, two emerald orbs sparkled with so much life, so tempting to one who was devoid of one. I wanted to reach out to her, to hold her close, to have that wild zing of life coarse through my veins like adrenaline.

She was my ecstacy.

"What is it that thrills our dear Sakura-chan so?" I teased, looking up from the blueprint of a design that I had been planning. She grinned basfully, an expression so child-like and innocent that it had me responding in kind. She dragged the wicker chair out from across me and, as gracefully as she could, drop into it.

"So?" I prompted, eager to be let in on the news that made my jeweled-eyed angel so happy.

"He proposed."

What?

"Tomoyo-chan? Are you alright?" I did not know what the expression on my face would have looked like. I do know that my facial muscles were cramped somewhat, locked in some expression that could have appeared worrying. I gulped, though not quite able to be rid of the sudden dryness in my throat. Nor the sudden ache that echoed from heart to belly.

"He, proposed?" Words uttered so carefully. Mere words that could change a person. Words that could make one sparkle like the nova of stars in space. Words that could turn heart into lead, and let it fall endlessly into an abyss.

"Wow." But there was no 'wow' in my voice. There was... disbelief.

And then she blinked. In that instant, my mask had returned. The one that had spared me disgrace in public. The one that so few had seen without. The mask that hid me.

"That's BRILLIANT! When? Where? Details Sakura-chan! Details!" And the afternoon breezed away, my heart falling apart like the petals of a flower; scattered away to the melodious lilt of her joyful voice.

*

I glance at the mirror now, the silver-gilded antique that mother had bought on one of her rare trips into the rustic alleys of London. I glance now, at the thick un-braided length of ebony that had been my pride and joy. The inky black tresses that held so much memories, of her touch.

The knife winked at me in the dimness of my room, taunting me with its melancholic echo.

'Use me...'

'Cut me...'

And within me, something cried back.

'Free me!'

'Release me!'

*

Kinomoto Touya grumbled as the doorbell rang, stumbling over wedding decorations and plastic ornaments that littered the floor.

"Dammit Yuki! Can you not leave nails lying around?"

"It wasn't me To~ya!"

"Sorry Touya."

"Gah. Dad!" The bell rang again, impatient and belligerent.

"Get the door."

"Yeah yeah. Hold on a sec. Yes can I he-." He paused in mid-sentence, eyes widening in surprise. She stood there, smiling serenely. In her arms was a pristine white box, with a pink bow wrapped meticulously around it.

"Daidouji-"

"Tomoyo-chan!" Yukito leapt up and scampered to the door, smiling at the dark-eyed beauty in that adorable way of his. She nodded her head in response and smiled. Then Yukito's smile faded, somewhat.

"Tomoyo-"

"I came to deliver Sakura-chan's wedding gown. Is she in? I have to speak to her." Touya blinked out of his reverie and shook his head.

"She went off to meet the coordinators. Daidou-"

"Ah. Okay. I'll try calling her when my plane touches down."

"Plane?" Her smile turned wistful, something nagged at the back of Touya's head.

"Yes. I've been accepted in an Arts programme in Europe. My flight was supposed to have been next week, yet somehow it got cancelled and was pushed to today. I'm afraid I won't be able to attend her wedding. Tell her everything will go off without a hitch okay?" She smiled, yet they did not feel warmth.

"Take care of yourself Kinomoto-san, Tsukishiro-san." And she left. Yukito turned to Touya, the expression on his face deep in thought.

"Touya?"

"She was... cold."

"Touya."

"What?"

"Where was Tomoyo-chan's hair?" And in that sudden instant, Touya Kinomoto realised that Tomoyo Daidouji was missing the usual thick braid. The glorious mane of hair that was her trademark, replaced by a stylish bob that would have made her appear ordinary. Yet it only amplified the sorrow within. The sorrow thay had taken so long to notice.

"Take care... Daidouji."

*

Europe is such a fascinting place. Like a palette of colours, I feel so eager to try them all upon my canvas. I have not felt such freedom in a long time, always kept under close scrutiny at home. A prisoner within my chamber.

My heart holds no more sorrow, an empty abyss that feels random emotions at will. So carefree. I never want to part from such a feeling.

There are time that my thoughts flicker over her. Wondering... reminiscing. And they always end in bitter shards. For every time I think of her, I am reminded of myself. Of my loneliness, my sadness. Reminded of the notion that had I not left, I would be forever chained to her. I would live in her shadow, never truly alive, crowding her with my neediness and dependence on her vibrant soul.

With my removal of her presence, she will not turn against me. She will not be suffocated, she will be free. As I am.

To be free... and yet, immensely lonely.

Is it truly worth it?

She paused, the nib of the pen hovering over the crisp white page for a few minutes before being capped and returned to its home within the drawer. The scenery outside her apartment window enthralled her, the blending of earthy colours as the days approached the end of autumn, drawing nearer to the pale white winter.

Tomoyo smiled, clad in a simple white shirt and shorts. The sun showering warmth upon her being, arms spread out, ready to take flight.

It is worth it... to be free. Free of torment, and yet still free to let you linger in my memory.