Disclaimer: Some things never change. Here's one perfect example.
Summary: There are papers. A puzzle. High walls. A name. Everything is white, was white. She came to hate the color.
Author's Notes: When I am lost, or have forgotten something, I try to return where I first thought of the idea and try hard to recall that which I have forgotten or what would be the next step to take. I think it is similar when you forget very important things, especially from a particularly trying, momentous event. Heavy angst and drama. Tragic and, though implying E x T, it isn't exactly aiming on showing the good times between the two. You have been warned.
Prologue
For a long time, they didn't speak to each other. For an even longer time, she didn't even recognize him. But now, he was here. In her room.
His face was down, she could not read his face- if there was anything to read, even. His hair was considerably longer, touching the lapels of his coat. He wasn't in a hurry, but he wasn't bothering to stay either. He was unwanted and he knew just as much. After all, for an even longer time, he was not needed in her life.
He smiled inwardly. This was for the best, he believed. For him, and for her, especially.
When she chose to acknowledge him, she asked what his business was with her. She didn't offer him a seat, much more a cup of tea. No special greetings. No formalities. They were far too familiar, and yet, in very much strained relation with each other to go through such troubles.
She was hoping to meet eyes with him- for so long, she hadn't even had the strength to direct so much as a glance to his direction. If he was here for what she thought was his purpose, then, truly this might be the last time she'll see him. And for the rest of her life, it seems, as he was a man of his word.
o0o...o0o...his name means white...o0o...o0o
A sheet of paper was on his hand. Now it was on her desk. He looked for a pen nearby; it was placed on the sheet, too. He remained standing afterwards.
It was ironic. It had finally come to this. Just as he thought he would. By now, she truly knew. Everything, every single thing, but she had not moved on- was still a prisoner of that period of non-existence. It was what kept her, and he who took her from it was also the person who put her in it. He, who was her happiness was also her undoing. Her consciousness and obliviousness. Her sanity and insanity.
She had wanted to embrace him when he entered her office. But, now as she faced the papers, as she is reminded of everything that has passed, she wants to slap him until her hands are sore and then make him leave in the most humiliating of scenarios. She thought about this and she wanted to cry.
How she loved and hated this man. How, indeed, for he was her everything and her nothing. Eriol Hiiragizawa, he was all of these things, and he had come to ask her to undo all that he was to her.
The white space was waiting. He was waiting. Tomoyo reluctantly held the pen. A decision was to be made now.
o0o...o0o...his name means white...o0o...o0o
Author's Notes: I didn't mean to get inspired and write another story while INO is still ongoing. (Ye~s it's still ongoing, even though I'm still in the process of writing the next installment. I really want to finish a multi-chaptered story for a change, so I won't really heed to requests of making the chapters long for this particular story. And as I have said in author's notes above, you're dealing with heavy angst and drama on this one. Not so much on the romance, fluffiness is little to none. Nevertheless, I would still appreciate the support and the reviews/comments you would give.
Another thing. His Name Means White is to be taken separately from INO- it is, in no form, a kind of written-too-early sequel, alternate ending or even a prequel. Same goes for Chestnuts.