She watched him out of the corner of her eyes.

She liked watching him.

It was a habit. It was something she was used to since the age of twelve. She thought of him as interesting. She thought that possibly no one could smile as much as he did. It was unnatural… inhuman. Well, he wasn't like everybody else. As others chatted happily among one another in the art room, he would only focus on his work. His exotic-like eyes the color of a deep cobalt seemed to be permanently locked upon that piece of paper as he drew. His dark navy tresses fell over them, giving him a look of strange mysteriosity. She couldn't believe that he did not recognize her.

They used to be friends… well, not really. They knew each other, greeted each morning upon each other, and talked, but barely. He was never one for words. He used to tell her that saying, the "A picture is worth a thousand words" saying. Soon she came to believe him as she came to find out of his artistic skills. True, they did speak much more deeply than mere words. Each picture caught with realism, and yet he exaggerated the right spaces, making his artwork simply beautiful. His artwork screamed beautiful. And yet… his sadder works screamed, cried out painfully, the word "loneliness".

She let a small sigh escape her rosy lips as her long violet locks fell over her fair face. Her nails, coated with a black polish, tapped on her desk. A tee the color of a royal blue hugged her upper body. She had feminine shoulders, a slim stomach, and developed breasts. She was rather proud of her figure, but the body part she really liked about herself was her long legs, now hidden by her slate-colored jeans. She overall looked like an ordinary girl, with her insecurities and her confidence cancelling it out. Her name was Tomoyo Daidouji, daughter of Sonomi Daidouji, president of the Daidouji Toy Company.

Her equally violet eyes set upon him again.

Again, she couldn't help it. It was a habit. Something she enjoyed doing. It did seem rather strange that what she enjoyed was looking at a strange boy and noticing his behavior, but she didn't care. She knew that she was not insane. She watched him, and her nails stopped tapping. Eriol Hiiragizawa… that was his name. She knew he would not remember her, but she remembered him. She remembered that goofy smile he used to give. She remembered those geeky glasses he wore. They were now replaced by small, thin-rimmed glasses in which took shape in a half-oval, half-square. In her opinion, it flattered his features. His skin was still as pale as it used to be though. She noticed him standing up. He was still tall, about six feet now, but he wasn't lanky anymore. She noticed that he wore masses and masses of black and that he wore the same lace-up boots everyday. She wondered if he still lived in his mansion. She closed her eyes.

The ending bell rang shrilly, echoing inside the rather large room. She decided to stay, knowing he would. She wanted to see if he recognized her, like she did him. The class left quickly and noise subdued. It was silent now. He was still sitting, focusing in his artwork. She found the courage to stand up. Her legs brought her over across the room. His pale pink lips were pressed together in concentration. As she came behind him, she saw his work over his shoulder, and her mouth parted open.

A triangular shard of glass. That's what he drew. A triangular shard of glass, a trail of deep red blood contouring it, the drop about to fall from a side. The glass shined in a mosaic of lavender and rose on it's flat, transparent side, and across the center of it seemed to be a clear drop, fogging up the light mosaic. It was a tear. His pencil colored the glass very lightly, carefully. She couldn't believe the beauty that he emitted from such a violent-like, sorrowful object. "It's beautiful…" She whispered, not helping herself.

"Why thank you, Daidouji-san." He said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips for he knew her eyes had widened in surprise. "You'd think I wouldn't remember you, am I right?" He asked, looking back at her. He studied her widened eyes. Oh, how he remembered them. "Oh, I'm sorry." Tomoyo said "I thought you didn't…" Her voice trailed off.

Eriol chuckled. "It's all right." No, it wasn't. Nothing was okay for him. That chuckle was more of a pitiful, insane chuckle of self-pity. She wouldn't understand the loneliness he felt after he went back to England with Kaho. She found someone else and had broken his heart in a million pieces. He thought she loved him like he loved her. He didn't know that she would find someone else. Overall, he was lonely. He had no friends… none at all. They had lost contact with him.

Tomoyo saw through him. Through his soft smile, and saw a sorrowfull frown replacing it in her mind. He looked strange, as if not smiling by choice anymore. She knew it. No one could possibly smile as much as he did… at least, not by choice. She had to admit that she kind of missed his mischevious grins, that reckless glint streaking across his eyes. They seemed gone. Long gone.

She sat next to him, a soft smile dancing playfully over her lips. He looked lonely. Could she fix that? Could she make him smile like he used to? "So… how's my old friend?" She asked, knowing it would make a difference to him. Eriol's eyes widened ever so slightly, hearing the word friend come out of those full lips. He slowly came to a smile. A genuine one. A true one. "All right. How're you?… friend?" He asked.

Her smile became a little wider. She knew she made a difference to him now. She reached to her jacket pocket and removed a pen, encased in a box. She remembered that he loved black-ink gel pens. She placed the box onto his hands rather gently. He looked at her, surprised. She remembered his birthday? She cocked her head to the side. "Go on." She urged "Open it."

She watched his reaction, the smile widening even more, if possible. "Happy March 23th… Happy Birthday, Hiiragizawa-kun." She said. She looked into his eyes, surprised at the small tears glittering at the corners of his eyes. She soon found out they were tears of joy, because he smiled a large smile and whispered a "Thank you." She was right. He was lonely. 'Well, not anymore.' She thought to herself.

She watched him wipe his eyes and look back at her.

She liked watching him…