"You remember where your room is, right, Tomoyo?"

She smiled at her father's question; it had been a while since she'd climbed the familiar steps where her room overlooked the river. It was a nice change from having to look at the overgrown tangle that was Kurogane's backyard. "I think I'll rest for a bit," she told him as she set her bags down on her old (but reliable), creaky bed - right next to the little nook where Ruu appeared, purring and rubbing against her legs. She reached down to pat him (and realized how he had grown).

"Right. We'll be having your favorite for dinner tonight," her father continued, looking nostalgic as he scanned their cupboard (stocked with an endless supply of rice).

"Our favorite," she corrected in a nature of lightheartedness. "We came up with the perfect recipe together, after all."

"Ah. I was afraid you'd forgotten already - your being in that house for so long, you know, I was prepared to re-acquaint you with our style of living."

"But I could never forget something that took so much effort. We did-"

"-Experiment with it for six hours straight," he finished. "No tea breaks. Not to mention we had to work around your cooking impairment."

"And your ingredient impairment." They grinned at each other and laughed; it had been too long since they could finish each other's sentences (a trait her father said she inherited from her mother).

Dinner was a while in coming, so she began unpacking and rearranging everything in her room - this was a painstaking process, but well worth it as the room slowly regained its former self. Ruu wove in and out of the room and was especially interested in the amount of ribbon she kept in a basket (a rainy day project). Her thoughts turned to what everyone would be doing back at Kurogane's place: this was easy to conjure in her mind for she knew them all too well.

Mokona madly flipped through a cookbook in preparation for dinner; Syaoran would likely set the table while making a mental note to keep Kurogane's steak from burning; Fay plunked away on the piano (he called it 'mood music'), occasionally leaning over to see how much it annoyed the grumpy one.

Sakura and Chi would be tidying and lighting the fireplace, Kurogane sitting back in his chair in the living room attempting to read a murder mystery over the din of Fay's off-key notes.

She wasn't far from the truth - back at the castle Kurogane glanced toward a vacant chair at the table, strangely idle from his reading. He never let on to the others, but he perked up once or twice when it appeared she was coming downstairs. Obviously, he reprimanded himself, he hadn't acquired enough sleep.

Fay almost let slip a playful joke, but thought better of it in view of his friend's somewhat distracted mood. Today nothing seemed to please him as it once did. Frustrated, he slammed the offending article down and stomped upstairs. The other occupants' gazes leaned in the direction of the receding echo of his feet; this was new.

Safe from prying eyes in his room (so he thought), he silently stepped onto the balcony. The sun had gone down some time before and the stars were just beginning to poke out. Despite the ideal surroundings, he was not looking forward to the task set before him. He plucked a sprig from one of many vines twisting themselves around the castle wall. Back and forth he paced, shredding the sprig and cursing under his breath with each corresponding turn.

A period of more stationary reflection followed as he sat with his back against the balcony support, boring a hole into the center of the mangled greenery resting in his palm. He wished he could find his brain's 'nothing' box at this point (all men have one).

Finally (and this was the part he had dreaded), defeat became imminent. With pen, ink, paper, and a lit candle, he began scribbling as he never had before - a man on a mission.


"No offense, Father, but your cooking is a bit lacking without Tomoyo and I to keep you focused," Kendappa quipped as she popped another forkful of fish into her mouth. He was facing away from them as he put ingredients in their place, but they could see his head tilting slightly. He had a quiet way of listening to every word in conversation - which astounded the girls when they were younger. No prank by his less-than-angelic daughters had been successful as he had always known beforehand what they were doing with startling accuracy.

"It's good to have you back," he casually noted. You could hear the smile in his voice.

"It's wonderful to be back! And how is aunt Soma holding up? Has she found a new place to live?"

Her sister paused mid-scoop to answer, "Oh, didn't I mention? She's married to that nice man who keeps his cottage so clean. His name's Hideki, I think."

"Oh, yes! When I was little he would give me yellow carnations once a week and he often helped father with his more difficult plowing." Tomoyo smiled softly at the memory.

"She made an excellent choice."

Things really have changed since I've been away.

Night came again and she was in her room. She'd forgotten how brightly the stars shone in tiny streams of light through the window as they did now. Kendappa could plainly be heard from the adjacent room practicing her harp (with which she had grown quite adept). The river splashed and gurgled as usual; these were the old sounds of home. In a way it was good she had pushed these memories to the back of her mind during her stay at Kurogane's. How she had missed the sounds!

She stretched and curled up under the covers, though she wasn't the least bit tired yet.

I wonder if they miss me the way I miss them, she found herself thinking - then slowly grinned, closing her eyes while an even more warm and pleasant thought filled her mind; the sheer difficulty of erasing that smile and the memories that went along with it left her pleasantly surprised.

I wonder if he misses me.

The family spent the next day on a picnic in a grassy spot that lay along where the river behind their house branched out and widened. There was a cluster of elm trees in that spot, but three in particular grew closer together, and under these the family spread out their lunch things.

It was a mildly cold, but lovely, day. Tomoyo feasted on freshly baked bread, rice, and fish. The fish were caught beforehand by both girls using the technique they learned at an early age from their father. The taste of it reminded her of all the times she nearly fell into the water just from the weight of trying to reel some of them in. At the time she had been too small to accomplish such a feat by herself, so the trick was for her father to catch hold of both fishing rod and Tomoyo at the right time - then, if Tomoyo didn't fall in, they would let Kendappa have a turn (you could say she was a test subject of sorts in that situation).

After watching her catch a few of her own fish from the bank at a steady pace, her father announced, "What do you know - little Tomoyo stayed on dry land today!"

Things have changed since I've been away...but thankfully the people haven't, she warmly observed as the day quickly passed by.


"It was fun looking a little different, but at the end of the day it's nice to be my old self."

Tomoyo washed the minor application of cosmetics from her face, watching the foreign material swirl into odd patterns in the wash basin (it ended up looking like her first cooking experiment).

Kendappa tried her hardest not to flinch; watching Tomoyo swipe the brush through her done-up hair reminded Kendappa of one incident when Tomoyo had decided to cut her own hair (although the short length took only two weeks to grow back completely due to Tomoyo's aforementioned crazy hair growth ability).

Another swipe through her hair and Tomoyo met her sister's gaze in the mirror.

"Sorry-" Tomoyo faltered with the brush for a moment, "-I appreciate the work you put into it."

Her sister was laying belly-side down on Tomoyo's bed - they had just returned from their town's local festival which had provided Kendappa ample opportunity to play dress-up not only with herself, but Tomoyo. "But it just isn't you, hmm?" Kendappa knew the answer already - she just wanted to see the look that crossed her sister's face (a mixture of suffering and boredom).

"Not particularly..."

"Little wonder you aren't married; you don't put enough time into your looks. There were practically dozens of rich single men I was dying to introduce to you. Some of them even had a personality."

"Thank you for the compliment, but since you aren't married, either, I'll gladly let you have your pick of those 'wonderful' specimens," Tomoyo teased back.

"And I suppose you have a much more rich and wonderful 'specimen'?

Tomoyo quickly turned the conversation toward life at Kurogane's place.

"Tell me about your stay and don't leave anything out," her sister urged.

In between character descriptions of the various people at the castle and the castle itself there would be a little spark in Tomoyo's demeanor; her sister noticed, but said nothing.

These new revelations circled in Kendappa's mind (and she wondered if people were truly so unaware); after several more minutes discourse she finally voiced the opinion that it was time for bed and exited the room. Tomoyo's pale yellow nightgown laid ready on her bed from several hours before, and she quickly slipped into it; in doing so her eye rested on the item sitting on her nightstand.

She recalled Fay's specific instructions on how she would return to them: a tiny "magic" ring. A little note was bound around the piece of jewelry, and read as followed:

Hope you're having a pretty good time with your family - I say pretty good because we don't want you liking it so much you'll never want to see us again! I'm kidding - but on a serious note - you and I both know Kuro will never admit we miss you, so I thought I should.

p.s. Twist that little inlay on the ring twice when the three days are up and you'll be here again!

p.p.s Hope you don't have a nervous habit of twisting rings on your fingers - you may be here sooner.


Kurogane slid the letter into place on Tomoyo's nightstand between two books she had left behind from the castle's library (Kurogane was only a casual reader). He then had difficulty finding the correct way the letter should be presented when it met her eye - should it be laid atop the first book in an inviting manner? Or would that seem careless? Between the pages of the book? But then, would she think he was somehow ashamed to show it in plain sight? He finally decided on a different spot altogether - atop her pillow. Now he only hoped she wouldn't lay on it for three days before it was noticed.

"Tomorrow's the big day, huh?"

In all the years they had been friends, Fay never seemed to learn (or chose to be ignorant) that sneaking up on Kurogane triggered a reflex in his fist connecting with whatever was behind him - which, in this case, happened to be Fay's face.

"Sheesh! I only meant you must be happy she's coming back to tease you mercilessly so you can stop moping around every day and get on with your life," he said, covering the lump collecting in his right cheek,"you really are stressed."

An all too familiar slyness came into Fay's eye - he had spotted the tell-tale note.

"Afraid you'll get shot down?"

Kurogane lowered his eyelids in a way that indicated he was about ready for another 'fist reflex'.

"Oh, Kurogane!" his friend proclaimed, feigning Tomoyo's voice and making gesticulations as if he were about to faint, "I don't want to live my life with a man who can't respect himself! I couldn't possibly receive your passionate affections!"

"I don't want to think about it."

"Ok - but you know if you need any 'girls-are-not-always-angels' advice, I'm here."

"And what makes you the expert on women?"

"Weeell, I do happen to have my eye on a beautiful girl myself," he said. Nothing in his demeanor gave away the fact Fay was as unsure of his prospects with this girl as Kurogane was with his. Still, he trotted off in satisfaction, leaving Kurogane in wretched contemplation.

Kurogane's mother had put forth a valiant effort in making sure her son knew the proper way to treat women, training him for the special girl she had hoped he would meet any day. Unfortunately, this planning was lost on a twelve-year-old barely accustomed to puberty.

She gave weekly lessons (at times having to bribe him with pork buns), which all took place in the living room with the best table settings and décor set out so he would know she was serious.

He remembered in amusement how she taught him dancing (not just shuffling side to side), music appreciation (as opposed to banging sticks together), etiquette (his mother quickly broke him of pulling girls' chairs out from under them), and so on.

"Pretend I'm a nice little girl from a good family whose father wants to betroth me soon," she had instructed one day (a kind of final exam).

"What is the first thing you say to this proposal?"

His grimace said it all. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"Perhaps you're a little young to appreciate these things," she had finally resigned, sighing. "We'll start lessons again next year."

But before that opportunity had come to pass, he was put under a curse, ran away from home, worked as a part-time assassin, and saved up enough to buy his own place - which all did rather put a wrench into the works.


Syaoran, not given to the over-excitement that had come over nearly all the occupants in the castle, was yet just as anxious for Tomoyo's arrival. He heard Sakura's light step next to him and turned his head to acknowledge her. He then noticed with some alarm that she was puffing and nearly out of breath. She noticed his querying look.

"I've been cleaning everywhere - it was longer than I expected but I wanted it to be finished before Tomoyo-chan arrives," she explained softly (he could tell she was trying hard to stay awake).

"All by yourself?!"

"No, no, Chi and Mokona were helping." He had always thought it was cute when she became bashful about her work - her face with that adorable little smile, especially. She readily selected an open chair by the fire, taking enjoyment in being still and comfortable, and in shutting her eyes. She soon dozed. It would have been scandalous in his own eyes for Syaoran to place a kiss while she lay in such a vulnerable state (or in any state, for that matter), but as this kiss was deposited quickly on the forehead, he reasoned, it was right and proper.

"Good work, Sakura."


The way her father and sister hugged and congratulated her that last night right before using the ring stuck with Tomoyo for a long time.

"It's an interesting new way of traveling," her father remarked in his cautious matter-of-fact way. His eye caught the ring on her finger. It was quite plain he was nervous for her.

"This magic stuff - you're certain it won't accidentally drop you into a cave? Has the man who made it checked its reliability? What exactly happens when you use it? A friend of mine once heard-"

She placed her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "I'll be alright, Papa. Fay may be on the careless side, but not with things like this. I admit I'm curious as to how the ring returns me and my luggage, but I know it will work out."

"Say hello to Kurogane for me," interjected her sister in the teasing way familiar to those with siblings, especially elder; Tomoyo nearly dropped her luggage (which was odd considering she had both hands on the handle) in her agitation.


"TOMOYO'S BACK! TOMOYO'S BACK! TOMOYO'S BA-"

"I know, I know." Kurogane was already annoyed with his tie not sizing properly while he tugged at it (the mirror confirmed this), and the rabbit-thing bouncing up and down at the windowsill - repeating what he considered redundant exclamations - wasn't helping. He began to wonder how in the world Syaoran and Fay had talked him into wearing a suit today. A quick scan through his wardrobe, however, told him there was no other foreseeable option (unless he was trying for the rich hobo look).

"Mokona wants to see her first! Mokona will brighten her day!"

He tucked the flailing Mokona (about to take flight) under one arm and descended the stairs.

Syaoran awaited them in the living room; it was the first area Tomoyo would come through when she arrived since the front door (which was small for a castle) was situated there. The castle had never been brightened so cheerily as it was now; fresh red draperies hung in all twelve living room windows; the fire crackled and gave just the right amount of warmth.

"Alright," came their master's voice as he crossed the room (unhanding Mokona in the process), "I don't want anyone crowding her when she comes in."

Sakura was the most disappointed with the news. "But we only want to welcome her..."

"He doesn't mean only he can see her," Fay said, then, turning to Kurogane with a suspicious look, "right?"

"Right," the other affirmed, "just don't-"

"-Crowd her. We get it," Fay finished. "Lighten up, Kuro-Kuro!"

Their enlightening conversation was ceremoniously interrupted by the entrance of Tomoyo herself, a bag hanging off each shoulder, looking a tad bewildered.

"Hello?"

She wasn't allowed to say anything more before a wave of shouts and hurrahs greeted her. It was so good to be home when you had just left your other home. As the others parted from her, Kurogane stepped in - perhaps to say a simple hello; we'll never know, really, because as he stepped toward her, she merely glanced at him once and kept walking toward her room, the bewildered look never leaving her face.

"Are you two okay?" It was Syaoran who whispered it first - to which Kurogane shrugged. He wanted to know the answer to that himself.

Upstairs, Tomoyo slid to the floor with the door she had just closed to her back. Her mind was racing and she realized she had inadvertently dropped both luggage bags. Without a second thought she stooped to unpack, all the while her inner dialogue running back-and-forth as two opposing viewpoints:

What am I doing?

Go back down there! He might have something important to say.

Like what?

You'll never know unless you go down there. He may have missed you for all you know.

I will. First thing in the morning.

You'll say the same thing tomorrow.

Will not.

Will too.

Then it won't make any difference if I talk to him today or tomorrow.

But what if he wants to make sure you're alright now? You did make a scene in front of him.

It was only nerves. I was tired and didn't know what to say.

Believe that if you want.

It's just...what if he doesn't say what I think he's going to say? What if things keep going on the way they have been?

He wants to talk to you. Give him a chance.

I don't know...

Would you just go down there!

Twenty minutes after he had read and re-read the same column of his book, Kurogane heard what sounded like faint thumping down the stairs, then silence followed shortly by someone muttering something under their breath, followed by more thumping. The next time he looked up from his book, she was flying down the steps with the most triumphant look he had seen. She slowed her pace as her breathlessness caught up to her.

"Aha! Kurogane, I need...ask...go somewhere alone? Ok?"


The glow from the chandelier's candles caught the glass, shimmering a geometric reflection in all directions that they walked through while crossing the floor. After Tomoyo's abrupt request, she had been surprised at how quickly Kurogane had responded; within ten minutes they were making their way to what must have been a ballroom (of sorts - the room was too square).

"As you can see only Fay really comes here to practice 'his greatness", he commented while they passed the pianoforte, "He says it makes his playing more real in a bigger room." It was true - other than the chandelier and tapestries lining each quadrant of the room nothing was well kept. The floor especially had seen better days (at one time it had been brushed alabaster white instead of dull gray).

"I'm sorry if I made it seem like I wanted to talk to you about a life-or-death decision," she began sheepishly, "You were on the verge of bringing out your katana or something."

"It's in storage," he replied. It took her a few moments to understand the joke.

He eyed a bruise collecting on her left forearm (she was trying very hard to conceal it with her other hand, making it most obvious).

"Tough getting used to our stairs again?"

She nodded, and by the look on her face perhaps somewhat embarrassed from being found out. "Haven't you ever thought of replacing them with, I don't know, normal stairs? The type that don't trip you from behind and in front because of how winding they are?"

"I think you're the only one with that problem."

"I'll have Fay make me a magic carpet then. Problem solved."

"Do we always do this?" He said. It didn't seem possible to him that they were having a regular (at least for them) conversation this soon.

"Do what?"

"Spar with words."

"I'd say so; it's how we say 'I like being around you'."

"Fair enough."

"Too bad this room hasn't had anything but Fay's playing. It's called a ballroom, and there aren't any people to dance in it," she commented (and he knew at once where she was going with that line).

He smirked. There were some things he didn't need any prompting with.

"Not that you would be interested, but I do in fact know how to dance."

"I was hoping you would say that!"

Her left hand slid across his right shoulder; he rested his right hand on her back, and their free hands met. "What?" he asked, perplexed, when she burst into a little involuntary chuckle.

"You really are tall, aren't you? I never noticed as much until we were this close."

It certainly changed things now that his mother wasn't dancing with him. This new close proximity to Tomoyo was starting to send creepy crawlies up and down his spine; the only problem with these crawlies was he found he actually enjoyed them.

"Yeah, well, I get it from my father."

This remark was followed by several minutes of awkward silence. Tomoyo leaned into his shoulder while they swayed, not letting the quiet go to waste. Musical accompaniment was in the form of Syaoran on the violin (Fay had already retired to bed). How different it was to relax and enjoy the simple company of this person than he had imagined.

"I feel like I'm going to trip you, you're so tall," she said again.

"Well I feel like I'm going to step on you, you're so short," he immediately countered. Just at that moment, however, his mother's instructions on being polite came back to haunt him and made him second guess his choice of words. They hadn't been callously spoken - but then again you could never tell how women would take it anyway.

"Uh, it wasn't supposed to come out quite like..." but he stopped as he watched her face erupt with laughter - the kind of laughter that comes from needing to let off some nervous tension. The light bulb went on. She was just as nervous as he was.

"That's the second time you ever joked with me, Kurogane. It should happen more often."

Now that the icebreaker had been introduced, they passed idle chatter back and forth on how they grew up, what their goals were in life, and all the quizzing that should have come at the beginning (see what over-analyzing does?)

He dropped his steady gaze ahead and cautiously looked down when she fell silent. Her head nestled near his heart in a dangerously intimate fashion; his pulse responded by vacillating within high speeds. The old him would have pried off any female who tried this stunt, and he allowed himself to wonder why he hadn't done so with her. Just in case his voice wasn't as steady as he wanted, he cleared his throat as delicately as he knew how.

"Ah...Tomoyo?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think we're..." here he paused briefly to find the correct word that wouldn't make things uncomfortable, "...friends, maybe?"

She was analyzing his face in that curious way of hers. What went through her head at times like those, he almost wished he knew (almost, for fear it would be full of kittens, rainbows, flowers, and the like).

"I've found a wonderful, wonderful friend in you. I'm only sorry I never understood it before."

The way she said that second wonderful bordered on the way most people said adore - or maybe he was reading too much into it. In fact, he might have been reading into all of this too much. He should have stayed in bed this morning.

He cleared his throat again. "You know this is technically a date."

"After the first ten minutes, yes."

So far, so good.

"But friends don't really go on dates," he prompted.

"Then I guess that wouldn't make us friends at all."

She returned to "her nestling spot"; the creepy crawlies wouldn't leave him alone. They traveled up into his brain and at that moment something happened. He didn't know exactly what until he became aware that his head was resting on top of hers. He was still in too stupefied a state to comprehend exactly how it happened, but he was half an inch away from pressing a kiss onto the side of her face (and what good could come from that?) when she asked,

"Should we invite the others next time?"

"For what?" he snapped (which came out much more rough than he had intended).

"Don't get excited - I only meant so they could fill the ballroom more. It's usually meant to have more than one couple dancing, you know."

"Oh."

They considered each other for several moments before apologies were exchanged. She stated matter-of-factly, "you can kiss me now if you like."

He hadn't been prepared for a response like that out of the blue - particularly after he had lost his temper. She misinterpreted his silence as embarrassment (which oddly enough made her embarrassed in turn).

"That is, if you - if that's what you were - did I miss something...?"

He slowly shook his head, trying not to laugh while considering the eyes that were looking up at him questioningly; he had forgotten how beautiful they were (except for when she was shooting daggers out of them).


When Kurogane's footfalls reached the cold stone flooring that began from Tomoyo's doorway to the end of the hall, he paused. It had been several hours since they exited the ballroom and it was obvious from the absence of light beneath her door that she had long since gone to bed. The door itself, however, was slightly ajar. He nudged it - it responded with a squeak. He now remembered it was long overdue for maintenance. His conscience only worsened when he saw what lay inside. There she was, head slumped over folded arms, laying belly-side down atop her blanket on her bed. She had been so tired she had not even bothered to get under the covers or dress herself in anything more than a flimsy light yellow nightgown meant for spring.

The room was shabbier than he remembered and from the few minutes he had been standing in it he could tell it did not hold heat very well at all. He mentally kicked himself while promising to make things right.

At first he was reluctant to untie his bathrobe and slip it on her. His shirt and shorts underneath were not exactly his idea of winter bed attire but he had been too lazy to wear anything warmer - which he then realized made him a worse example than her for dressing appropriately. Any reluctance quickly faded when he noticed the corners of her mouth turn upward at the warmth of the new covering. It lasted a few moment before she slipped off to sleep again. He now made sure one arm cradled her while his other pulled the covers back - she was, at last, properly in bed. In his anxiety over her care, however, he failed to notice that the action of pulling the covers back somewhat forcefully caused the letter he had placed earlier to slip from atop her pillow behind her bed (he had really become a softie not to notice such a thing).

It struck him as he was about to leave that he wished he could do more for her, and why hadn't he done more, and why did she come back here? He found himself wondering what else he could do that would make her smile like that again. True, she smiled often for what appeared to be no reason, but this time she had smiled from something he had done for her that was genuinely...unselfish wasn't the right word...

Something kind.

Author's Note: Please forgive me for it taking this long to update! I hope you enjoy it. Bless you guys. =3