It was twilight.
Midsummer winds grazing over soft grasses towards the hill that she stood, standing under the tree that bore the flowers that were her name sake. The sun on the horizon, setting, making her glow with a golden light, almost as if the sun itself was embracing her with its warm rays. Her hair, enhanced by this glow, her pink kimono caressed by the wind. She was beautiful.
And there he stood, watching her, captivated by her beauty. His short, brown hair stroked by the wind, his fiery brown eyes full of wonder, longing, sadness, and pain. He was the same height as she, same color hair and skin as well, his being a bit of a contrast to hers for the sun had no love for a magicless being such as himself. Things like the sun were attracted to magic, and she had all the magic.
Gathering up his courage, he walked up to where she stood. As he walked she turned around as if she had sensed his presence from a distance. She looked at him and smiled. She beckoned him to join her, laughing as his face turned a deep crimson. He started to trip over his own two feet in his haste to get to her. He walked up to her, scratching his head in a nervous manner. "K-konichiwa" he stammered. She smiled in the cheerful fashion that he loved so much, "Konichiwa, Shoran-Kun".
He woke up.
Shoran Li sat up from his bed with a start and looked around his room. It was dark but his eyes quickly adjusted, he saw lots of training robes for his classes and some souvenirs from his time in Japan as an exchange student. One item in particular caught his eye. It was a traditional Chinese sword, an heirloom of his family's, one of which he had inherited at his 10th birthday. The sword lay beside anoher type of heirloom, the traditional robes that had been passed down by the Lee clan for generations. These items gave him memories, painful memories, memories of her, of his time as a cardcaptor fighting by her side. Fighting back the tears, he redirected his eyes to another item, but this one was just as bad; this item was probably the reason for that bittersweet dream. It was a picture that he had gotten in the mail yesterday, a picture of a young, 13 year old Japanese girl with long, brown hair and clear, green eyes. She was wearing a pink kimono and a cheerful smile. There was a cherry blossom tree in the backgroound and the pictrue was titled, "To: Shraon, love: Sakura". "Sakura..." he said, as the tears started to flow...