DISCLAIMER: Standard disclaimers apply. See prologue for full disclaimer.
Until You Do
by Ekai Ungson
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
You tell me things I've never known
I've shown you love you've never shown
But then again when you cry
I'm always at your side
You tell me 'bout the love you've had
I listen very eagerly
But deep inside you'll never see
This feeling of emptiness; it makes me feel sad
But then again, I'm glad
--"Friend Of Mine"; Lea Salonga
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Chapter I: Should I Feel So Empty
She had kept it a secret, these two years, and she'd been pretty good at it, too. She'd managed to keep her mouth shut at the most opportune moments, like at his house for tea last year and at the Music room at school several, several times.
But the truth was, she was in love with Hiiragizawa Eriol.
It had begun when she was thirteen, that first time he'd opened up to her, that time when she read his landscape correctly. Over the years they'd grown closer, closer to each other.
And then one morning it simply hit her as blindingly obvious.
She'd been staring at him then, that morning when she was fifteen, as he labored over his roses.
And boom.
They weren't children anymore.
Her "otomodachi-kun" was a remarkably intelligent, ridiculously talented, hopelessly handsome young man.
And she was in love. Not at first sight, no. Just a realization of what HAD been happening all those years they'd been friends.
They'd been changing, seriously. She'd changed, too. She lost a tad of the meek, humble, quiet image. It was replaced by a slightly rebellious, fast-talking attitude that predictably got her mostly everything she wanted.
Tomoyo sighed. Mostly everything.
"Ohayo gozaimas, kitsune-san."
She looked up to meet laughing eyes of dark blue. "Mou, otomodachi-kun. Watashi wa kitsune jannai no."
Eriol only chuckled. "You sound so much like Sakura-san when you do that."
Kitsune. A fox. Eriol had given her the name when he observed her cunningly trying to fast-talk her way out of responsibility in the school committee. He'd said she sounded like one. She pointed out that foxes didn't talk. He then said that she looked like one. She fumed. And so the name had stuck.
"Have you done your English homework?" he asked.
"Yes, O Great Studious One," she replied in a dazed voice that mocked his bossiness.
He looked pointedly at her. "The Math?"
"Yes, O Great Studioud One."
"The Literature?"
"Yes, O Great Studious One. Do you require anything else, O Great Studious One?"
"Stop calling me 'O Great Studious One'."
"Then stop _bossing me around_."
The bell rang.
He took his seat behind her. She smiled. Always behind her. Close. And when she fell, he would catch, unfailingly.
"What are you smiling about?" he whispered.
She smirked. "That'll be for me to now and you to find out."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Two thin envelopes of pink paper fell into Eriol's hands that day as he opened his locker.
Tomoyo shook her head. "And wide popularity, not to mention extreme good looks, strikes again," she teased. "Tsk tsk."
He shoved the letters in his pocket. "This is the third in a week."
Tomoyo only laughed and opened her own locker. Inside, she was seething with jealousy.
And then five envelopes fell to her hands.
"Ha!" she heard Eriol say triumphantly. "And the same to you, too. Look who's talking about wide popularity and extreme good looks."
"... stooge... seventh... three days..." Tomoyo muttered.
"I didn't quite catch that, Tomoyo-san?" Eriol prompted cheerfully.
"I said, 'What a stooge, for the seventh time, in three days'!" Tomoyo repeated exasperatedly. "What IS with these men? I never reply, and I nevr entertain, so why do they keep bombarding me?" She turned to him. "And YOU! I don't know why you relish this so, you crazy loon."
"'Crazy loon''s redundant, kitsune. Let's go grab a bite."
"Shouldn't you read those and try to decipher the writing so you can find out whose brave souls called you out?"
"And have you breathing down my neck trying to sneak a peek and then taping the embarassing exchange? Never."
"Very funny, Hiiragizawa."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Music class and Eriol was yet again on piano and Tomoyo was yet again front and center for vocals.
Tomoyo smiled. Again, that familiarity that when anyone said "Daidouji-san can sing", it was usually followed by a "Hiiragizawa-kun can play."
Hiiragizawa, Daidouji.
Daidouji, Hiiragizawa.
Applause broke out, and Tomoyo went back to her seat.
"Arigato gozaimas, Daidouji, Hiiragizawa," Goshen-sensei said. "Class, the piece they performed is your assignment for the week. You may go."
On cue, the bell rang.
As Tomoyo gathered her books, Eriol whispered, "Will you wait?"
"I always wait, dimwit," came the reply. "Sure. You go break more hearts while I stand guard."
"That's why you're my friend, kitsune."
"Bah."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Hushed whispers hidden in the fleeting shadows of sunset.
A declaration of love.
A polite rejection.
Always, always.
And as always the dejected party would watch two figures walk off towards home.
One was a raven haired girl, with violet eyes that held no expression.
And the other was the object of said party's affections.
After which, she would get over it, thinking;
*Of course. Taken.*
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Tomoyo looked back.
*I know what you're thinking.
I wish.*
Until You Do
by Ekai Ungson
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
You tell me things I've never known
I've shown you love you've never shown
But then again when you cry
I'm always at your side
You tell me 'bout the love you've had
I listen very eagerly
But deep inside you'll never see
This feeling of emptiness; it makes me feel sad
But then again, I'm glad
--"Friend Of Mine"; Lea Salonga
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Chapter I: Should I Feel So Empty
She had kept it a secret, these two years, and she'd been pretty good at it, too. She'd managed to keep her mouth shut at the most opportune moments, like at his house for tea last year and at the Music room at school several, several times.
But the truth was, she was in love with Hiiragizawa Eriol.
It had begun when she was thirteen, that first time he'd opened up to her, that time when she read his landscape correctly. Over the years they'd grown closer, closer to each other.
And then one morning it simply hit her as blindingly obvious.
She'd been staring at him then, that morning when she was fifteen, as he labored over his roses.
And boom.
They weren't children anymore.
Her "otomodachi-kun" was a remarkably intelligent, ridiculously talented, hopelessly handsome young man.
And she was in love. Not at first sight, no. Just a realization of what HAD been happening all those years they'd been friends.
They'd been changing, seriously. She'd changed, too. She lost a tad of the meek, humble, quiet image. It was replaced by a slightly rebellious, fast-talking attitude that predictably got her mostly everything she wanted.
Tomoyo sighed. Mostly everything.
"Ohayo gozaimas, kitsune-san."
She looked up to meet laughing eyes of dark blue. "Mou, otomodachi-kun. Watashi wa kitsune jannai no."
Eriol only chuckled. "You sound so much like Sakura-san when you do that."
Kitsune. A fox. Eriol had given her the name when he observed her cunningly trying to fast-talk her way out of responsibility in the school committee. He'd said she sounded like one. She pointed out that foxes didn't talk. He then said that she looked like one. She fumed. And so the name had stuck.
"Have you done your English homework?" he asked.
"Yes, O Great Studious One," she replied in a dazed voice that mocked his bossiness.
He looked pointedly at her. "The Math?"
"Yes, O Great Studioud One."
"The Literature?"
"Yes, O Great Studious One. Do you require anything else, O Great Studious One?"
"Stop calling me 'O Great Studious One'."
"Then stop _bossing me around_."
The bell rang.
He took his seat behind her. She smiled. Always behind her. Close. And when she fell, he would catch, unfailingly.
"What are you smiling about?" he whispered.
She smirked. "That'll be for me to now and you to find out."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Two thin envelopes of pink paper fell into Eriol's hands that day as he opened his locker.
Tomoyo shook her head. "And wide popularity, not to mention extreme good looks, strikes again," she teased. "Tsk tsk."
He shoved the letters in his pocket. "This is the third in a week."
Tomoyo only laughed and opened her own locker. Inside, she was seething with jealousy.
And then five envelopes fell to her hands.
"Ha!" she heard Eriol say triumphantly. "And the same to you, too. Look who's talking about wide popularity and extreme good looks."
"... stooge... seventh... three days..." Tomoyo muttered.
"I didn't quite catch that, Tomoyo-san?" Eriol prompted cheerfully.
"I said, 'What a stooge, for the seventh time, in three days'!" Tomoyo repeated exasperatedly. "What IS with these men? I never reply, and I nevr entertain, so why do they keep bombarding me?" She turned to him. "And YOU! I don't know why you relish this so, you crazy loon."
"'Crazy loon''s redundant, kitsune. Let's go grab a bite."
"Shouldn't you read those and try to decipher the writing so you can find out whose brave souls called you out?"
"And have you breathing down my neck trying to sneak a peek and then taping the embarassing exchange? Never."
"Very funny, Hiiragizawa."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Music class and Eriol was yet again on piano and Tomoyo was yet again front and center for vocals.
Tomoyo smiled. Again, that familiarity that when anyone said "Daidouji-san can sing", it was usually followed by a "Hiiragizawa-kun can play."
Hiiragizawa, Daidouji.
Daidouji, Hiiragizawa.
Applause broke out, and Tomoyo went back to her seat.
"Arigato gozaimas, Daidouji, Hiiragizawa," Goshen-sensei said. "Class, the piece they performed is your assignment for the week. You may go."
On cue, the bell rang.
As Tomoyo gathered her books, Eriol whispered, "Will you wait?"
"I always wait, dimwit," came the reply. "Sure. You go break more hearts while I stand guard."
"That's why you're my friend, kitsune."
"Bah."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Hushed whispers hidden in the fleeting shadows of sunset.
A declaration of love.
A polite rejection.
Always, always.
And as always the dejected party would watch two figures walk off towards home.
One was a raven haired girl, with violet eyes that held no expression.
And the other was the object of said party's affections.
After which, she would get over it, thinking;
*Of course. Taken.*
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Tomoyo looked back.
*I know what you're thinking.
I wish.*