This Christmas Eve
By like a falling star
Christmas in Tomoeda was generally a merry affair.
The streets in December made for an altogether charming scene; a group of Santarinas posing for a photograph; a shop assistant, humming tunelessly to 'chestnuts roasting on an open fire', hanging a silver bauble on an already over-decorated Christmas tree; Santa Claus handing out pink-and-white striped candy canes to eager children; a young couple, gazing at each other over two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.
Eriol's eyes deftly picked out the sad things, the lonely things, as he was wont to do; a woman who slipped and fell on the snow, her shopping bags scattering; Santa Claus, who was getting old, wheezing as he walked about; the people who ignored the collecting tins in their haste to get home before dinner; a child crying in the midst of the crowd because he had lost sight of his mother; a pale wisp of a girl, standing outside the café, staring wistfully at the young couple.
Christmas, Eriol reflected, was such a sad season indeed.
And here was yet another Christmas he would be spending alone. With Ruby Moon and Spinel, yes, but alone nonetheless. Christmas was a season for lovers.
Very abruptly Eriol turned and entered the first store he saw. It was a craft shop, one that he had begun frequenting since Tomoyo-san took him there one day to buy some art supplies.
He pushed open the door, the bell above it tinkling as he did so.
"Good evening- Tomoyo-san?" He was, to say the least, mildly surprised by Tomoyo's presence behind the counter instead of Midaoru-san, the middle- aged matronly owner whom he'd become rather friendly with.
"Good evening, Eriol-san. How can I help you?"
In Eriol's mind the question struck him as ironic. You have no idea, he thought. Love me, say something to me, stop hiding. "Could I have three yards of blue ribbon, please?"
"Of course, if you could just wait a moment."
Eriol stood in front of the counter and watched Tomoyo as she opened a cupboard and took out rolls of ribbons in four different shades of blue. He chose the shade of blue he wanted and proceeded to watch her wrap it. He enjoyed watching her; it was like theatre and ballet, flawless, graceful acting. Her life was like performing art. "Where is Midaoru-san?"
Tomoyo did not pause in her packaging; she carefully snipped off the ribbon at precisely the three-yard mark and rolled it around a cardboard cylinder. "She left because of a family emergency, so I'm looking after the store for her."
When Eriol didn't say a word, she elaborated, "I ran out of velvet so I came here to buy some, but she was just about to close the store. So I volunteered to help."
Eriol nodded but remained silent. Midaoru-san was a widow, a plump, smiling woman with an air of tranquility about her. Often Eriol came to the store to seek her advice and sometimes, when he initiated it, they talked about Tomoyo. She let him speak, and never advised him about it except to say that he would only tell her when the time was right.
Tomoyo finished wrapping the ribbons and handed the plain white paper bag to Eriol. "Have a nice day, Eriol-san."
There was something in her voice, a resigned sadness of a sort, that shook him. Eriol suddenly gripped her hand. "Tomoyo-san, we've known each other for so long, don't you think it's time to dispense of all this formality?"
Tomoyo seemed a bit shocked. "Of- of course, Eriol-san. Can I call you Eriol, then?"
His face broke into a smile, and his mind registered the fact that she did not, in any way, try to remove her hand from under his. "Of course. Tomoyo." He opened his mouth to speak, to tell her what he'd always known - perhaps this was the right time, the one Midaoru-san had been speaking of - and then closed it. No.
Tomoyo noticed his hesitation to speak. "If you don't mind, Eriol-san - Eriol - I know it's a little late to ask - but do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? Mother asked me to invite some friends over, and- it's nothing much, just mother and I - you could bring Nakuru-san and Spinel if they'd like to come. I understand if you can't, it's all right, really - silly me, it's rather too late to ask."
"No, no, it's not. I'll go. We'll go." He seemed not to notice that his voice trembled with emotion. "Thank you for inviting me- us- Tomoyo." His lips caressed her name, and then he let go of her hand and took a step back. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas. She, too, was trembling ever so slightly. Had she felt it, then?
Maybe, Eriol reflected, as he made his way home, thinking of the way Tomoyo's hair curled around her shoulders and the way the faint lavender scent wafted around her like a halo, Christmas wasn't so bad after all.
*
By like a falling star
Christmas in Tomoeda was generally a merry affair.
The streets in December made for an altogether charming scene; a group of Santarinas posing for a photograph; a shop assistant, humming tunelessly to 'chestnuts roasting on an open fire', hanging a silver bauble on an already over-decorated Christmas tree; Santa Claus handing out pink-and-white striped candy canes to eager children; a young couple, gazing at each other over two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.
Eriol's eyes deftly picked out the sad things, the lonely things, as he was wont to do; a woman who slipped and fell on the snow, her shopping bags scattering; Santa Claus, who was getting old, wheezing as he walked about; the people who ignored the collecting tins in their haste to get home before dinner; a child crying in the midst of the crowd because he had lost sight of his mother; a pale wisp of a girl, standing outside the café, staring wistfully at the young couple.
Christmas, Eriol reflected, was such a sad season indeed.
And here was yet another Christmas he would be spending alone. With Ruby Moon and Spinel, yes, but alone nonetheless. Christmas was a season for lovers.
Very abruptly Eriol turned and entered the first store he saw. It was a craft shop, one that he had begun frequenting since Tomoyo-san took him there one day to buy some art supplies.
He pushed open the door, the bell above it tinkling as he did so.
"Good evening- Tomoyo-san?" He was, to say the least, mildly surprised by Tomoyo's presence behind the counter instead of Midaoru-san, the middle- aged matronly owner whom he'd become rather friendly with.
"Good evening, Eriol-san. How can I help you?"
In Eriol's mind the question struck him as ironic. You have no idea, he thought. Love me, say something to me, stop hiding. "Could I have three yards of blue ribbon, please?"
"Of course, if you could just wait a moment."
Eriol stood in front of the counter and watched Tomoyo as she opened a cupboard and took out rolls of ribbons in four different shades of blue. He chose the shade of blue he wanted and proceeded to watch her wrap it. He enjoyed watching her; it was like theatre and ballet, flawless, graceful acting. Her life was like performing art. "Where is Midaoru-san?"
Tomoyo did not pause in her packaging; she carefully snipped off the ribbon at precisely the three-yard mark and rolled it around a cardboard cylinder. "She left because of a family emergency, so I'm looking after the store for her."
When Eriol didn't say a word, she elaborated, "I ran out of velvet so I came here to buy some, but she was just about to close the store. So I volunteered to help."
Eriol nodded but remained silent. Midaoru-san was a widow, a plump, smiling woman with an air of tranquility about her. Often Eriol came to the store to seek her advice and sometimes, when he initiated it, they talked about Tomoyo. She let him speak, and never advised him about it except to say that he would only tell her when the time was right.
Tomoyo finished wrapping the ribbons and handed the plain white paper bag to Eriol. "Have a nice day, Eriol-san."
There was something in her voice, a resigned sadness of a sort, that shook him. Eriol suddenly gripped her hand. "Tomoyo-san, we've known each other for so long, don't you think it's time to dispense of all this formality?"
Tomoyo seemed a bit shocked. "Of- of course, Eriol-san. Can I call you Eriol, then?"
His face broke into a smile, and his mind registered the fact that she did not, in any way, try to remove her hand from under his. "Of course. Tomoyo." He opened his mouth to speak, to tell her what he'd always known - perhaps this was the right time, the one Midaoru-san had been speaking of - and then closed it. No.
Tomoyo noticed his hesitation to speak. "If you don't mind, Eriol-san - Eriol - I know it's a little late to ask - but do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? Mother asked me to invite some friends over, and- it's nothing much, just mother and I - you could bring Nakuru-san and Spinel if they'd like to come. I understand if you can't, it's all right, really - silly me, it's rather too late to ask."
"No, no, it's not. I'll go. We'll go." He seemed not to notice that his voice trembled with emotion. "Thank you for inviting me- us- Tomoyo." His lips caressed her name, and then he let go of her hand and took a step back. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas. She, too, was trembling ever so slightly. Had she felt it, then?
Maybe, Eriol reflected, as he made his way home, thinking of the way Tomoyo's hair curled around her shoulders and the way the faint lavender scent wafted around her like a halo, Christmas wasn't so bad after all.
*