Birds of a Feather
With a gentle smile, Daidouji Tomoyo lowered her camera.
The cheerful couple holding hands before her looked so happy together. They were giggling and making teasing jokes and laughing at the stupidest of comments. But they were happy. They had each other. That was all that mattered.
Sometimes Tomoyo wished her own life were that simple.
"Would you like to view the photos?" She asked, her voice calm and musical.
The woman nodded, and Tomoyo walked closer to them. She would have taken the time to hook up her laptop and let them view the photos through the projector screen, but they seemed to be in a rush. After all, they were taking the photos for wedding invitations.
"Aw, they look nice," the woman giggled, throwing her arms around her soon-to-be.
Tomoyo felt jealous. She would never plan a wedding. Not for herself.
After the couple had left, Tomoyo was left alone with her computer and her camera. She wished that, for once, she too could be happy. She wished that she too could have someone to plan a wedding with. She wished that she could giggle and hold hands and be the person in the picture, not the one behind the camera.
Not that she didn't mind taking the photos herself. She preferred it that way. People with happy faces deserved to be on camera more than those without expressions at all.
"Tomoyo-chan!"
"How do I look, Tomoyo-chan?"
"Don't take a video, Tomoyo-chan!"
The sudden flashback stopped Tomoyo's typing instantly. She stared at the screen, her eyes blank.
Sakura. . . Sakura had been her very best friend for so long. They had grown up together. They had done everything together.
Now, Tomoyo barely knew what she even looked like.
How it had happened had been very simple, really. Sakura had met a boy. Not just any boy. She had met Li Syaoran, the "man of her dreams".
"He asked me out, Tomoyo-chan!"
"We actually kissed, Tomoyo-chan!"
"I love him, Tomoyo-chan."
Before Tomoyo could hold it in, she found her shoulders shaking. She found her forehead connecting with the desktop. She found herself close to sobbing.
Sakura had been her very best friend.
Now, Tomoyo wasn't sure if Sakura even remembered her. The pain of it was suddenly too much to bear. For years, she had held it in. Now, she wasn't so sure she could last another second. Sakura. . . Her beloved Sakura-chan was no longer in her life.
Tomoyo knew it had been years since they had last spoken. She knew that once high school had come along, Sakura had gone her own way. She knew that when Sakura had gotten married to Syoaran, Tomoyo had not been invited to the wedding.
Tomoyo knew a lot of things. She knew that now they had a baby girl with a bright laugh. She knew. . .
Another shuddering gasp broke from her mouth.
"Would you make me a dress for the prom, Tomoyo-chan?"
"Can I borrow your video camera, Tomoyo?"
"Do you have a pen, Daidouji?"
When had the familiarities ended? Even now, Tomoyo couldn't remember. It had changed so fast. Nothing had stayed the same.
When she had finally calmed down, Tomoyo packed up her laptop and camera. She wiped her eyes and regained her composure. She left her office looking dignified and calm, though she certainly didn't feel it. Her entire friendship with Sakura was long over.
She knew she needed to get over it.
But so many years spent together wasn't an easy thing to forget. Tomoyo knew that Sakura probably still remembered. She knew that. But no matter how hard she tried, she found herself incapable of picking up the phone and dialing Sakura's old number.
She couldn't just barge in on Sakura's life and expect to pick up where they had left off.
Tomoyo strode down the same street she walked by every day. It was a routine for her, now. She walked to the office in the morning, and she walked home late in the evening. That left her little time to be alone in her house.
She passed by Mai's Bakery and bought a cinnamon roll. She passed by the small grocery store at the end of the first block and bought a carton of milk. She passed by Flower Stationary and bought a new pad of paper for notes.
Of course, Tomoyo had known all along that Sakura and Syaoran were adorable for each other. They had both been gullible during elementary. They had both turned into blushing teens during junior high. They had both had fun playing kissing games in class together during high school.
Tomoyo wasn't stupid. She had seen the interactions, even after their last words had been spoken. Sakura and Syaoran had been meant for each other, and they still were.
Even now, Tomoyo took the credit for pairing them together. In all reality, she had been the one at fault for the distance in their friendship.
But that was all past. Now, she had a new life.
Tomoyo abruptly stopped walking. She now stood before a somewhat fancy restaurant, one she had eaten at many times before. But the restaurant wasn't the reason for her stop.
The skinny figure leaned over a flower pot had caught her attention. With the usual restaurant vest and black slacks on, he looked like any other person. His hair was dark and his hands quickly positioned the flower arrangement before him. From a side glance, she could make out that he wore glasses.
Tomoyo found herself staring. She couldn't quite understand why, but the young man had grabbed her attention. He had sparked a momentary bit of curiosity that was sure to die soon.
But still. . .
"Can I help you, ma'am?"
Startled, Tomoyo dropped her cinnamon roll. It hit the ground and rolled onto its top-half.
"I-I'm sorry. . ." Tomoyo knelt to pick it, but her laptop carrying case stopped her. The plastic bag with her milk toppled from her hand and hit the ground. Her camera case slid down her shoulder.
"Let me help you," the voice was amazingly calm and laid-back. Tomoyo turned towards the owner, shocked to see it was the young man she had been admiring. She stiffened. With a smile resembling the Cheshire Cat and half-closed eyes, he helped her to pick up her items and discard her dusty cinnamon roll.
"I'm terribly sorry I startled you," he spoke, handing her the plastic bag.
"I'm terribly sorry I wasn't paying any attention," Tomoyo countered, rearranging her bags around her. She almost dropped her camera.
"Would you like me to escort you to your home?" He asked quietly, grasping her notepad before it fell.
"Oh, no, I can make it," Tomoyo smiled faintly and took a step forward. Her heel broke, and she tumbled forward.
He caught her.
"I would prefer it if you would allow me to help, ma'am," he spoke, keeping a strong hold on her grocery bag.
Tomoyo sighed and nodded, "Alright, then. Would you hold this, please?" She handed him her laptop and camera cases and removed her shoes and stuffed them into one of her bags. She went to grab her camera, but he refused to hand it over.
"I can carry it all," he spoke casually. "You just lead the way."
"But you have work," Tomoyo protested, reaching to take her bags.
"I'm on my break," he nodded ahead. "Don't worry."
Tomoyo walked carefully, hoping she wouldn't step on any rocks. Her stockings threatened to rip against the rough ground. She hoped they held up, as they were her only good pair.
"I've never seen you around before," she finally started, glancing to the side at the young man.
He grinned back, "Really? I've worked at Maurice's for ages."
Tomoyo frowned thoughtfully, tapping her chin with a finger, "I've walked that same street for a few years now. I don't recall seeing you before."
He laughed, his voice whimsical, "Perhaps I don't stick out enough."
"Perhaps. . ." Tomoyo trailed off, finding nothing more to say. He seemed nice enough.
But one thing still provoked her.
He acted normal, despite how handsome he looked up close. But for some reason, Tomoyo couldn't place her finger on why she couldn't remember him. She was fairly good with faces, and after walking along the same street for well over five years now, she knew she hadn't seen him before.
But the way he walked confirmed that he knew where he was going. In fact, he almost seemed to be leading the way. . .
"What's your name, ma'am?" His sweet voice broke right through her thoughts.
Tomoyo stopped walking and stared at him, startled, "Ma'am? Do I look forty-five?"
She earned another laugh.
"I didn't mean to offend you," he managed in between chuckles. "But please, tell me your name."
"Daidouji Tomoyo."
"Daidouji-san, then," his Cheshire Cat grin returned and he gave her a small bow, "You may call me Eriol."
"Eriol-san, then," she smiled lightly.
Eriol was a nice name, but she wasn't sure if it was his last or first. He hadn't bothered to inform her on those details, which brought on a sense of unease.
"Are you wondering about my name?" He asked as if he had read her mind.
Tomoyo found herself incapable of replying.
"It's Hiiragizawa Eriol."
"I see," Tomoyo nodded ahead, "That's my apartment ahead."
She wasn't sure why, but she felt more comfortable around this strange man than she had around anyone else in a long time. She didn't want to remember the last one she had felt comfortable around. It brought too many painful memories from her past.
"Thank you," Tomoyo gave him her best smile after he had graciously carried her things to the second floor of the apartment building and placed them before her door.
"It was no problem," Eriol returned the smile with more enthusiasm, "I hate to see a damsel in distress."
She almost laughed with him.
Almost.
She faced away from him and pulled out her keys.
"Daidouji-san," he spoke, his voice suddenly serious.
She finished unlocking her door, "Yes, Hiiragizawa-san?"
His hand grasped her elbow gently, "Call me Eriol."
Tomoyo felt a tug at her hair, and she felt him suddenly step closer.
"Your hair is very beautiful," he muttered, his breath tickling her ear.
"Thank you," she whispered.
She knelt to her knees and picked up her bags, hoping the situation would keep from growing more awkward. He backed away respectfully.
"Would you have dinner with me sometime, Daidouji-san?" He asked as he waited for her to stand.
The question startled her. Tomoyo couldn't remember the last time she had been asked out. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she had gone out.
"Dinner. . ." Her voice was weak at the mere thought.
She had always refused boys. She had never accepted an invitation to go skating, or to see a movie, or to have dinner. She had never even gone on a date before.
The truth seemed to hit Tomoyo like a firework. She began to sob.
Eriol helped her into her apartment.
"I'm so sorry. . ." Tomoyo wiped at her eyes, hoping to calm down. But after so many wasted years, she couldn't calm down. The tears kept falling.
Eriol stood before her, waiting patiently.
"I'm so sorry. . ." She muttered, still wiping her eyes.
"It's fine," he smiled sincerely and held out his hand, "Would you like anything?"
"I'm so sorry. . ." She repeated, leaning forward so that her head rested on his shoulder. She hugged him.
He wrapped his arms around her, unsure what else to do.
"Yes," she muttered after a moment.
"Yes?"
"I would love to have dinner, Hiiragizawa-san. That is, if you would still like to," she sniffled and pulled back, wiping her nose.
"Of course, but on two conditions," he grinned devilishly.
She stared at him expectantly through teary eyes. She'd blown it. He wouldn't want her to ever come near her again. She finally had a chance to start something new, and she'd ruined her chances.
"Smile," he started, "And call me Eriol."
It was then that Tomoyo laughed. It was a real laugh, one that sounded like bells.
If Hiiragizawa Eriol was patient enough to let her cry on his shoulder during their first meeting, she was willing to have dinner with him. In fact, she wanted to have dinner with him.
She'd spent so many years behind Sakura's back, watching and waiting. She'd admired Sakura more than a young girl should have, and she'd given up any other chances at having a life. When Sakura had left, that had been Tomoyo's time to start anew.
But she hadn't been ready. She hadn't been prepared for life without her best friend.
Now, she would take her chance.
Tomoyo smiled up at Eriol, looking cheerful and more carefree than she had in years.
"Of course, Eriol," she finally managed.
He almost blushed.
Almost.