Long ago, Tomoyo recalled standing out on this very balcony, and looking out at the moon. There, she had seen a single girl, who was – of all things – flying. Upon her staff she crossed the sky, accompanied by a yellow creature that she would later come to know as Kero. And Sakura simply flew.
Tomoyo had wished, those many years ago, that she could fly as well. Since then, she had flown once or twice. But never like that. Never across the broad moon that hung, hooked, in the sky. Never with the one whom she cherished, smiling and laughing so widely, truly enthralled to be in the air, cruising over and beyond the world below.
It was such a flight, be it in the air or not, that she desired to this day.
Here, on this very balcony, she stood once more. The moon hooked itself into the sky, stuck between the woven threads of night, embedded alongside the sparkles she knew to be stars. Another night of so many long gone. So much had changed; little was different. For if things were different, then why would she still stare at that sky?
Tomoyo brushed a hand across the pale white rail, made of wood. It was flawless. She feared no splinters from the wood, feeling only the smoothest paint beneath her hand.
Like so much else in this world, it was unbroken and whole and perfect. It was one reason she loved the moon – it was not always perfect. Sometimes it shined bright, round, full and glorious in the sky – but often, it was halved. Stuck between a state of light and dark that changed with each passing day, and eventually becoming all dark itself. And its light, in the end, was but reflected anyway. The sun gave it light. Without the sun in sight, would not the moon be nothing more than a cold rock eclipsed by life?
And her thoughts trailed along, dancing around the things she knew and the truths she held. Never once did she state anything outright to herself. Why not? There was no need to say that which was already known to her.
She heard to her side and behind her a noise – that of sudden footsteps, though the door had not opened. Tomoyo was somehow not surprised, and only turned her head, still leaning against the railing as her eyebrows rose. Somebody had dropped in.
"Daidouji-san," Eriol said with a respectful nod. He held out his staff, allowing it to shrink to the size of a key once more without a word. As he hung it around his neck, he took a step towards the railing, and leaned against it as well. He allowed his gaze to trail up towards the cold moon, and let it rest there.
Tomoyo did not follow his lead, and asked, "What are you doing here?"
His eyes flicked to hers and back. "I happened to spy you from overhead, and decided to visit. Two miseries are better than one."
The dark humor made Tomoyo smile slightly, but she as she did so, Tomoyo looked directly at the key now resting upon his neck.
"Yes, I flew. From behind your house, of course. Your balcony faces towards the east, does it not? I came from the west."
"Of course you did," Tomoyo replied, wondering why this was significant. Where else would he come from? The south? Of course not. Her curiosity satisfied for the moment, she looked back to the moon.
Silence blanketed them both for a time. It was a silence neither of them wished to break, for though it was not comfortable, it was better than speaking.
And yet, there were questions, and answers. Thoughts, and realities, unsaid.
From these thoughts sprung an idea. Eriol turned his head, breaking the tacit understanding between them after many, many long minutes.
"You want to fly."
She looked at him quietly for several moments, her violet-gray eyes veiled.
"Yes," she said at last.
"Will this suffice?" he asked, summoning his staff once more. Tomoyo looked at it, and could not help but compare.
Sakura's was, after all, pink.
And the wings that sprouted from the tip were, on Sakura's Star Rod, a pure and gleaming white. These wings were raven down, black and hidden, blending with the night.
"Yes," she said again.
"Will I?" Eriol asked, smiling enigmatically.
"Yes," Tomoyo lied.
At her affirming nod, Eriol proceeded to mount the staff, leaving room for Tomoyo in the back. Tomoyo gingerly swung a leg over the side, and rested her weight upon it slowly. It held firm, though it floated it midair.
"Are you prepared?"
Tomoyo closed her eyes, following instinct. In her imagination, she built this scene to be different. If she could not see, then it would not be. Her mind fabricated the reality she wished, coloring the staff to her whim, and plastering a smile upon her face. The last touch was to make the warm body she wrapped her arms around a different body, one of a girl with bright emerald eyes, who would now be smiling at her joyously.
"Yes," she repeated, careful not to break her illusion.
Illusion Sakura kicked off the ground, and then they were in the air.
It was beautiful. She could hear the wind whipping past her ears, sending her long hair out behind her. It created a dull, uneven roar that pelted her face. It was something Tomoyo cherished, that wind. She was in the air. She was free.
Next to the wind, she thought she could hear a sound as delicate as bells – the quiet tinkle of Sakura's laughter, childishly enjoying the sensation of being far above the ground.
It was as perfect as any dream had ever been before. Tomoyo could see it all, except for Sakura's eyes. Her emerald eyes were not nearly as bright in real life, and would never be so warm to her. Never.
But Tomoyo could fool herself. So she did. The smile on her face, hesitant a moment before, solidified. Tomoyo flew at last.
And, in her joy, she opened her eyes.
Looking back at her, she found a pair of solid azure eyes. Her illusion shattered, the smile on her face shattering with it.
"Having fun?" Eriol said dryly.
Tomoyo did not answer. She only looked into his eyes.
Why bother saying anything? He knew. Tomoyo neither needed nor wanted to speak aloud what they both knew. Flying would never be right unless it was with her. He was the same. Tomoyo didn't even want to ask why Eriol understood, but she could tell he did. What did it matter, anyway? They both shared that same pain in their hearts, in the end. Their eyes were both shadowed equally when they gazed at the incomplete moon, for whatever reason. In this, they could share. In this, they found a kinship that neither Sakura nor Eriol's most important person could ever understand.
That which could not be, and would never be, but they would always wish and hope to be. It bound them together eternally, yet never so tight as the bonds built long before.
Finally, Tomoyo tore her eyes away from his, looking again to the moon. "This is wonderful," she said softly.
"If you ever want to fly, Daidouji-san, you only need ask it of me. I can tell you have enjoyed it as much as I have, and would not be adverse in the least to repeating this."
"I would like that." Whether her statement was true or not was uncertain, even to her.
He paused for a moment, and adjusted his glasses quickly. "Then, perhaps we shall continue this little jaunt a bit longer, regardless?"
A firm nod made him turn back around, and continue flying. Tomoyo suddenly realized her arms were still around his waist, where she had placed them when her little illusion of Sakura had begun.
Tomoyo tightened her hold, maybe out of fear of falling. It was, she also suddenly realized, such a long way down. Tomoyo didn't want to slip from her seat.
Although, with Eriol watching her, she knew she couldn't possibly fall. It'd just be silly if the reincarnation of the great Clow Reed managed to let one girl fall.
The idea of it made her laugh, slightly. She smiled, and turned her face up into the wind.
Sakura was not here. Sakura would never be here. But what did that matter? She was still flying, anyway. She was far away from Sakura, far away from life or the world or the days and nights that slipped by slowly out of her reach. Here, Eriol and the sky above were her only companions. Nobody else was needed. Nothing else mattered.
Hearing her laugh, Eriol turned his head again, smiling slightly. "Better?"
"The moon's even closer from up here," she observed, looking at the bright crescent. "I could practically reach out and touch it."
"Theoretically, I could make that happen. But I'd rather fly, wouldn't you? Just out of reach?"
"Exactly."
Eriol chuckled, and turned away once more. Suddenly the staff leaned forward, swooping down at a startling speed towards her house. Tomoyo held her breath as they descended, but was disappointed – Eriol came out of the dive and glided to a stop just above her balcony, at a height she could step down to with ease. Shaking her head at the audacity of it all, she hopped off the staff, and held out a hand to Eriol.
He smiled cheerfully. "Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?"
"Point taken," Tomoyo said with an equal smile, and she lowered her hand as he hopped off as well. The staff's wings disappeared, and then the staff shrunk back to key size once more.
"You know," Eriol began, "It's just occurred to me that offering to take you flying again late at night without your mother's approval may not have been the most gentlemanlike thing for me to do."
"If I minded, I think I would have said something. Besides, I can keep a secret."
Eriol nodded. "Then, until we meet again," he said with a dramatic bow. He lifted a single hand into the air, and suddenly disappeared – no lights, no flash, no sound or anything.
Tomoyo looked at the spot with amusement, wondering, then shook her head and went back to leaning against the rail. She propped her head upon her hand, and watched the moon as it cast its ethereal light upon the earth a little longer.
And, at the first yawn, promptly went to bed.
-(YnT)-
I was asked where on earth I got the emotion for this little ficlet from. The answer? No idea. :) Perhaps because I would like to fly as well. But of course, that alone cannot make a story. I suppose its roots will remain a mystery, ne?
Enjoy, and please, if you liked it, take the time to review. I ought to get something for staying up to write and post this at four AM. Honestly, sudden inspiration is a such a bitch.