Aki no Gensou
chapter 10
The old lady had shown her the room. It was terrible. She
had to admit this. The bed was a worse than it had been in England,
and the walls were a terrible mixture of left over paint, to create something
sickening disgusting. One might compare it to the color of something
would find in the gutters Calcutta. Meiru would be happy though,
she realized, the sea air was good for the two. She had been left
alone after that, and after standing quietly in the dark room she walked
over to the door which let in light through its dusty glass pains, and
calmly unlocked it. Once again she was alone, once again she was
on her own. This time there would be no Eriol to protect her, this
time it would be only her, far far away in a foreign land.
She caught her breathe, as the sky line met her face. The colors
of thick rich cream of the clouds mingled together with the golden orb
now low on the horizon, and finally the great blue mass of water stirred
all three of these undeniable elements until they were something that one
could only describe as breath taking. The clouds were aflame, alive,
burning hot with colors of red, yellow and gold. The azure sky seemed
to be the continual water that diluted the already startling colors, however
the sky failed, and only made the scene more breath taking. And all
of this beauty was reflected in the calm, quiet Adriatic Sea.
No, it was best to live for the moment. It was best to forget
Japan, forget England. Here she would start anew, here she
would be reborn in Ostia. Ostia, the town by the sea. And through
this town she would be able to travel to Rome, meet new people, try new
things. But most of all, most important of all....she would forget
Eriol, and the minutes the two had shared in the garden at the wedding.
Perhaps Meiru would not be the only one happy here....
~
Eriol had been in Japan for about a month after the wedding.
Nakuru had insisted after all, to visit all her old friends, which included
Touya and Yukito. It had not been unpleasant to see the two, for
the conversation certainly had been interesting, however he found himself
wishing for the hills of Kyoto, the golden sun, and the new growth which
could only be found there. He found himself wishing for the dark
and dusty alleyways with sparks and flashes of zinnia's. However,
the formalities were something that must be done, and so he found himself
ridding the train to Tomeda, to visit Fujitaka. Yes, Wisteria.
The family, no the community of flowers, of plum, peach, cherry, wisteria,
yes the community of flowers.
But now he was back in Kyoto. Now he could visit the one person
he truly wished to visit. And yet each time he set out to her apartment
he found himself 'mistakenly' taking the wrong turn, and end up in some
very interesting part of town where he would spend the day. It perplexed
him. Why was it so hard to visit Tomoyo? Did all those months
of their relationship in England mean nothing to him? Or her, for
that mater? Why was it strange that the heat that had taken over
his body during the wedding be suddenly, and without notice extinguished?
Maybe it was Japan. He figured, perhaps Tomoyo would be the way she
had been. Perhaps the tears she had shed would have transformed her
into the keeper of tears, and the mistress of smiles once again.
And yet, Eriol found that so very hard to believe, that Tomoyo, his dear
Tomoyo, should have changed so drastically.
Often, he would look over his life, and he would become very confused
over the subject of Tomoyo. She was friend to be sure, but where
did the path of friendship end and the road to something else begin?
He did not know what it was that caused him to feel this way. Perhaps
it was her wry wit, and her beautiful voice. Of course, perhaps it
was her beautiful body, which seemed to have been perfectly designed for
him, and him alone. Or maybe, maybe it was every individual detail
of her: her wit, body, cleverness, and overall out look on life which
did this to him.
Today, however, he resolved, today would be different. He would
be able to go to her apartment, and knock on the door. Today, yes.
Today.
And so Eriol set out, firm in his resolution, a bundle of gloriously
white daisy's in his hand.
~
The clouds moved softly by, quietly, sadly. How beautiful it
really was. How sad. The warm ocean breeze swept in, Tomoyo's
long fragrant hair was swept by this. Yes, the foggy moors of England
were best to be forgotten. Now she only lived for the sea, the warm
sea and the clouds which swept high in the heavens above her.
The ancient ruins of an age gone gazed quietly at her, the worn marble
pillars quietly sighed. It was truly a paragon of beauty, the green
moss growing against such a backdrop. How happy it all was.
The mornings of sleeping in, the mid day of classes, and the golden afternoon
all to herself. At times she would draw the beauty of the ruins of
rome, and yet at other times she felt herself longing for the sea.
Often in a small red rented car could cruse quietly along the ocean roads.
But now, she lay, her head rested against a tuff of grass, and her eyes
looking towards the heavens.
She screamed, and yelled at herself for not having told Eriol.
How could she have done something like that to him? Her most important
person in her life? The thought was unbearable. She had already
hurt him once when she had left England, but twice? Twice?
His hurt eyes drifted across the ocean to blow quietly against her cheeks.
How kind he had been. So understanding. Quietly the two had
walked in the garden, not one word spoken, for everything that needed to
be said was naturally understood. But now, twice, had she hurt
him. His eyes the color the English channel, gray and blue, a mixture
of sadness and knowledge. He could tear apart her masks, and expose
her knocked to the world. With his eyes he could do this. But
now, as Tomoyo closed her eyes, she found the seas of England haunting
her. Now she was in Italy. The land of the Mediterranean.
The land of the sun.
It had been true that the first weeks had been terrible. She lived
in her hotel, or at school. And gradually, gradually, she found small
corner cafes where she would stop and sketch the people going on their
daily life, the ancient cobblestones glittering in the afternoon sun, the
cup of steaming cappuccino mingling gently with the air around her body.
The smells of wonderful things, new and adventure some. Yes, Italy
was hers. The people, the food, the culture. Now, after weeks
quietly becoming acquainted with the culture, she now each day greeted
it as a warm friend.
And on days like today, the wonderful clouds streaming above her head,
her thoughts wandered back to England. But....most importantly, Eriol.
Eriol....
She would admit nothing to herself yet. Nothing.
~
Where the devil has she gone??? Eriol's mind questioned
angrily nearly every second the day. Sakura had become extremely
worried, for Tomoyo had not even told her. Tomoyo had not told Sakura,
obviously this was something big. The world had stopped. Tomoyo
was away, far away, and no one knew where she was. Sakura knew that
Tomoyo was fine, and enjoying her life, and there was no need to worry,
but as soon as she had heard the news the first time, a look of extreme
fear had crept slowly into her expressions day by day. How cruel
it had been to not tell Sakura. To tell anyone. But something's,
Eriol realized, are best kept a secret. Best....kept a secret.
The world had stopped, and he was the only one breathing....
...
He had finally made it to her apartment, and his soft hand knocked
gently against the door. He waited a few moments. Nothing.
He knocked again. This time, perhaps, a little louder. Only
the hum of the world was his answer. He leaned in closer, his ear
pressed to the door. Only silence. Silence. The cruel,
screaming silence.
He knew that Tomoyo should have been home. She should have been
home, his mind yelled. And yet, only this sickening quiet met his
ears. How terrible it was. He rushed down the stairs, where
was she? Where is she? His mind called out. Where, where,
where? Suddenly the world seemed to be laughing in his face, the
walls, the rugs, the stairs, the lights, all laughing. There was
nothing to be worried about. She could be out for a cup of coffee,
his mind whispered, she could be out getting new clothes, his mind said,
she could be out riding her bike, his mind screamed. But deep, deep
in the core of his being, he knew that like the autumn wind she had vanished
off the face of the japan. She was far away. Beyond his grasp,
beyond the mirror.
He cursed himself for not noticing the foggy look in her eye
at the wedding. He had presumed it was the sorrow that drenched her
like a downpour that day. But now, now as he looked over that fateful
day, he realized this was the look of secrets. Not sorrow, but secrets
living in dreams and painful things. Where had she gone? The
world was her pallet, and she could be painting the earth over now.
She could be in London, New York, Singapore, places yet discovered.
What mattered the most was that she was not in Japan. Not with him.
He reached the main floor, the dumpy old lady looked over at him, slightly
glazed as if she had drunk to much wine. Her eyebrows raised, not
in a look of surprise, but suspicion.
"Yes?" The woman questioned, her old scratchy voice echoing off the
walls.
He looked at her, the years of age etched into her face. She
must be at least sixty, no sixty five years old. She was born in
the time of war. The time of sorrow, and blood. His voice came
to him, washed over him, and he heard himself whisper, gruffly, desperately,
"Daijouji Tomoyo. Did she leave? Do you know where she is?"
The world stopped and much time passed. He was aware of a bird
that flew past the window behind the old lady. The wrinkles of her
face moved to form a wicked smile, "Didn't you know? Why, she left."
Her voice was filled with gloat. And she added, spitefully, "Oh,
but she will back in the fall..." Her eyes traveled to the ceiling,
as if trying to recall something very very old indeed.
"Where did she go?" He questioned, anger, desperation, but most
of all fear beginning to rise up through his body.
"I can't really say..." The voice responded. "Far away,
to be sure."
In a matter of seconds he was storming through the beautiful flower
filled parks of Kyoto. The beauty swept by infront of him. He stopped
only once to gaze up at a flowering plum tree. Tomoyo was the plum
blossom, falling, falling, just out of his grasp.
~
The summer had now arrived in Italy. How good the clean heat
felt. The air from the sea did not make it completely unbearable,
and the dry atmosphere was beautiful, much unlike the humid of Japan.
Now Tomoyo had nearly forgotten about it all; the past. One night,
however, she awoke to the same dream. The dream of Eriol and her.
Her bare body, his lips against her skin, the words that had been spoken,
and the actions which followed afterwards. Sometimes the dream would
surface to her consciousness, but instantly, instantly she would suppress
it. Eriol was in England. Sakura in Japan. And Tomoyo
was in Italy.
So much had been accomplished here. Slowly but surly she began
to pick up the language, and make friends who were studying at the same
University as herself. She began to learn her way around Rome, and
call out to the shop venders which she knew. People began to know
Tomoyo, and life for her turned from blues to reds. The light
and beauty effected her greatly. How the clouds swept over her head
like some beautiful dream, the colors that she could never capture, the
words that would never be spoken. The dry look of the country
side called out to her, the gold's standing out against the radiant never
ending blues of the sky. Do you know? Do you know? the
wind whispered all around her. The quiet hazy summer nights she would
fall asleep to singing, and music, and in the morning she would awake to
the smells of a new day. No body was in Italy except the natives.
How wonderful it was not to be bombarded by the tourists. Now, it
was just Tomoyo and Italy. One and one. Only a very special
person would know to come to Italy in the summer, only one very unorthodox.
~
The warm Mediterranean breeze whipped and teased against the back of
his neck. The slow moving boat tugged gently through the lapping
water. How wonderful the world was around him. Here in Italy,
he could forget Tomoyo. Forget the wedding and the tears. Here,
he was at peace, away from Kaho and the gray waters of the Channel, and
away from Tomoyo and the drifting blossoms.
The great white clouds drifted by him, and the wind calmed his heart.
His heart had been alert, since it seemed the beginning of time and the
end of eternity. From the edge of the horizon he saw it, gazing back
at him. Italy. It smiled gently, its golden hills waving at
him through the blue sky. It whispered to him of the past.
A smile tugged at his lips, a true smile. He was happy to be back
in his past....for this was Kaho and him had become engaged. This
was where his doom was sewn like the seeds of spring. But the memories
that flooded and gushed throughout his mind were not sad, but only melancholy.
The feeling of watching gray clouds whisper past the horizon was what this
feeling reminded him off.
The tap against the steel floor reminded him he was not alone.
His head turned, to stare at Nakuru. She smiled gently at, her long
honey like hair blowing in the wind. When she had heard of Tomoyo's
disappearance an invisible wash of sadness overtook her expression.
Nakuru knew as well as Eriol that Tomoyo was the only happiness he had.
Had. Yes, it was over now. Like the flower of a spring, it
would never reappear the same one the next season. Spinel had taken
to sitting with him in his study, contemplating the fire hour after hour.
Nakuru walked towards him, a gentle smile still standing out against
her face. Her long, delicate arm wrapped around Eriol, hugging him
quietly...
~
Yes. It was a definite urge. No, not an urge, she told herself,
a longing. A great longing to tell Eriol. She had hid too long
from the world, now she was better. The warm wind from the sea calmed
her. She now could listen to Sakura's voice chirping like the morning
birds, she now could gaze into Eriol's eyes, the sorrow having now been
severely extinguished from her own. How lonely she felt that day.
She had awoken from that ever familiar dream. The dream when she
felt the heat of Eriol's skin pressed against her own. She
could say that she had grown accustomed to the dream, but whenever she
awoke from it, she no longer would sit in her bed, the sheets wrapped around
her, wondering, wondering, why? Why? Today, however, instead
of the nervousness or the heat that would spread throughout her body, she
now felt alone. The world surrounding her suddenly foreign.
And the greatest urge in her body to return to England and perhaps
sit in the lazy summer shadow of the Rendezvous. However England
seemed so far away today...just out of her reach, just as Sakura had been.
Slowly she dressed herself, the memories of England surfacing one by
one into her mind. But it was not the places that haunted her.
No. It was the face of Eriol.
Today would be different she told herself as she drank a cup of strong
coffee, and staring out at the blue sea just outside the window pane it
was. How close it was. If she broke the glass she could jump
out into the mild water. The blue water. From the distance
at the edge of the horizon a small dot appeared. Yes, a ship.
As she watched the ship it came closer and closer, small parts becoming
definable, the colors of red and white, and the rust coming together slowly
slowly. She could make out two figures as they neared. A very
tall women, her dark honey hair blowing in the wind, and a pale man with
ink colored hair, and what appeared to be glasses. The image of Eriol
flashed across her mind. Quickly she sipped her coffee, and put some
money on the table and quickly left.
Right now she wanted to sleep. Let her self escape from it all,
let her self be free. She smiled. She would conquer this, she
could, she would, she was sure of it. However, she had to catch the
train to Rome at the moment. For in two days she would travel back
to Japan, the land of humid weather.
~
Ostia. The town by the sea. His foot was placed upon Italy
as he stepped off the boat. The quiet streets of Rome would be what
he needed. Here, he and Kaho would discuss of politics, and of times
gone by. Of the mortality of man, and how good the coffee of Italy
really was. Suddenly he felt very tired, and the world and sea mixed
together creating a blur that blinded his eyes. He stumbled, and
fell. How could he fall? Wasn't he not a great sorcerer?
With powers beyond any mere mortals comprehension? Power had nothing
to do with this, he knew that, no it was weakness of mind. The world
had been turned down, and the image blurred. Just faintly in the
background could he hear Nakuru's shrieks, and feel as he was slowly lifted
and taken to a small cafe, and he could just hardly taste the cool flavor
of the water he was handed. The world had turned fuzzy. Why?
Why.... he whispered as he closed his eyes, falling into a state
of unconsciousness mingled with sleep.
...Silently the plum blossoms fell into the water, the ripples like waves died out. He looked up, the slight faint whisper of breeze ruffling his hair. She was outlined in the moon, glowing softly, gently. Her hair was down, free, its never ending fields of rippling darkness complementing her snow white skin. She turned, and for the first time he saw her face. The same as usual, just the beauty and sorrow more beautiful and undefined as ever. Her eyes were a mingle of darkness and moonlight, like a never ending melody forming new notes in which her beauty could be sang. The dream spun and sang madly, and when he opened his eyes he found himself standing not seven centimeters away from her. He could hear her breathing, her heart beat, which was strangely in sync with his. Quiet was all he wanted with her. The whispers of shadows mingled, quietly, and the mysteries of the past were revealed. He closed his eyes, and the beautiful music of some unknown language came to his ears. So beautiful....so sad.....
His eyes opened, and the dream faded, and reality was once again at
his finger tips...
~
She sipped the Italian soda quietly, its kiwi type flavor refreshing
in the heat of the day. Really, how she longed for the sea, the blue
never ending bliss. Tonight she would step into the sweet sand, barefoot
and enjoy her last quiet days here. She would enjoy these last two
days if it killed her. She finished her soda, and then quickly, sketch
book under her arm, she hurried off to her afternoon art class. This
class was over by six, and it was six thirty when she rode the deserted
train back to the small seaside town she knew so well. It was dusk
when she arrived. Strangely the hunger that usually plagued her stomach
around this time was absent, and instead she set out towards the beckoning
sea. How quiet, and beautiful it was. Her head cleared and
only the one thought remained. The sound of the sea.
Beautiful...so beautiful....
She took off her shoes and allowed herself to feel a bit of freedom
as she strolled quietly through the sand. The texture was so different
like anything else in the world. Soft yet rough at the same time.
So very nice it was. She sat down on a bench and gazed at the remainder
of the day, the sunset fading beyond the horizon, and the world turning
into muted shades of gray. Yes, it was the end of summer, and soon
she would go to Japan where the illusion off fall would begin again.
Her head was rested on the back of the chair, and her tangle of inky hair
spilled over the edge like some strange waterfall. She closed her
eyes, the ocean singing to her, quietly like lullaby's she had never known....
She was vaguely aware of someone sitting next to her. She paid
the person no mind, but allowed herself to sink deeper and deeper into
the sound...
~
The sea called to him that night, just as it had done to Kaho.
We would not resist, not here, not now. Here there would be no secrets.
Nakuru was in the other room with Spinel trying to find a channel that
was not Italian. However, the shows amused her, and her gay laughter
filtered through the thick walls. Quietly he left, writing a quick
note in his refined loop like script. He wanted to to be alone with
the thoughts that plagued him. But, when he heard the sea the fears
washed off him, and he was as pure as when he was born. As white as fresh
snow. The streets were turning a shade of gray, and yet the lights
had yet to come on. The blue hour. The streets were deserted,
and this was fine, for solitude seemed strangely fitting. He walked
his eyes never straying from the sea. Come here...it whispered,
I have a secret...a beautiful secret....wouldn't you like to know?
Lovely it was. Very lovely....mysterious, and quiet.
He crossed the street, and allowed himself to sink into a bench.
He barely noticed that a person was already there. However, sense
there was only one bench, they would be sure to understand. His eyes
wandered over the person, obviously a girl, for her body leaning quietly
against the bench, her head flowing over the back of the bench, had certain
features which only women could naturally obtain.. Her skin was indeed
very pale, so pale. The image of Tomoyo smiling flashed momentarily
infront of his mind. Her pale skin, pressed against his own.
And we shall meet in our secret rendezvous...
His eyes fell to the dark sea. Yes, coming to Italy was a good
idea. Here he would find his peace, the peaceful summer...
The woman moved, and he noticed her breathing, slow long breaths.
Really, she was relaxed considering a stranger was sitting right near her.
She moved again, this time a small noise uttered from her body. Her
head swung forward in one fluid movement, so very graceful it was, and
then she got up. He had barely glanced at her, and then she slowly
turned around. The world stopped, and their eyes widened. Memories,
questions, answers all raced through their heads. The sea continued
on and on, but it should have stopped at that moment. It should have
stopped.
"Eriol..." Tomoyo whispered quietly. She looked at him.
When she had first turned around and their eyes met, suprise was filled
in them, but now it was anger, and a mixture of disappointment. She
no longer could meet his gaze. How very cruel the world was.
This was not the way she wanted it to happen. This was not the way
at all...
He stood up, the fabric gently making a quiet sound. The two
were close, but she could not return his gaze. For the first time
in months she heard the voice which haunted her dreams. But it was
not as she had expected it. No, this was her worst fear. The
voice was filled with anger, resentment, so unlike the wonderful sensitive
voice of Eriol she knew. Now it only had anger...not a trace of anything
else.
"So this is where you have been hiding. Do you know how worried
all of us have been?! Sakura has been crying nearly every night,
your mother has asked the police in Japan to put out a search for
you, and I, I have been worried sick about you!" The anger was obvious,
radiating like an underground river. She found the tears well up,
the tears of the wedding, the tears of being alone, the tears of England,
but most importantly, the tears for Eriol. They fell, one after another,
one continuous stream, and all through this she spoke like some mindless
idiot, "I'm sorry. I am so sorry Eriol. I just had to get away
from everyone, from Sakura, Li, Japan, you..."
Eriol interrupted, suddenly as if that last word had murdered him in
his bed, "Me? Why would you want to get away from me? I have
not done anything- anything at all. Tomoyo, I thought we were friends."
He
thought we were friends....Tomoyo's heart whispered. The sea
only spoke now, the tears from Tomoyo's eyes kept flowing, raining, pouring
down.
This was not the way he would have wanted it either. However,
the truth hurt, and Tomoyo must bear the pain. Sooner or later it
would have come, and Eriol was just caring out the act first. But
now...the anger had faded from him, and he was hallow, like some quiet
room, never to be opened. He wanted Tomoyo. More than he could
ever imagine, he wanted her. He wanted her to be his, only his.
He wanted to feel her warm skin against his, he wanted to talk to her,
go out on walks, and just live with her. The only thing he could
do now, was wrap his arms around her and comfort her. Compared to
her sorrow, his was nothing. It had been cruel to yell at her.
Yes, perhaps she would forget his anger and the two could start over.
He felt her breathing, the slow heavy breathes. She shook, not with
cold, but fear. Where had the Tomoyo of England disappeared
to? Where was her strength? Had it all disappeared with the
changing of seasons?
He released his arms, and yet Tomoyo did not move. She still
pressed her body against his, her arms wrapped around him. It was
not a romantic act, yes it would have been different if it was romantic.
She would have looked up, and then he would have kissed her, and the happiness
would have been there's forever. But now, Tomoyo clung to his shirt
in some desperate act of drowning. I am stronger than this.
I know it. Tomoyo yelled.
She forced herself to stop crying, and instead slowly dried her eyes
and smiled. She looked up at Eriol, who in turn smiled down at her.
She whispered, her beautiful voice quiet, soft, and full of true happiness,
"Eriol, I am glad to see you."
Eriol smiled, truly, "Yes...as I am glad to see you, Tomoyo."
The two walked back to civilization that night. The blue hour
fading, dimly, into the black hour, the hour of true night.
She walked into the hotel room where the shrieks of Nakuru, and the gentle
smile of Spinel made it seem as if nothing had happened. From there
she had been invited to dinner, where she actually discovered she was hungry.
All night, she did not mention that she was leaving. That would have
to wait for later. Right now, she would be beautiful, and wonderful.
How wonderful....to laugh again. However, she must be strong...
~
It was now a matter of hours. She looked beautiful, her long
night like hair flowing, bouncing off her shoulders, and a beautiful long
airy summer dress, white, the most pure white. It flowed like and
danced like clouds on a fine day. She decided she would tell Eriol
today, she never wanted to see the anger in his eyes, ever. Quiet
solitude did not seem to suit her anymore, but it was over.
Now she would return to Japan, and face the beautiful music. He should
have been breakfasting, for last night he and Nakuru had invited her to
breakfast down at the small local cafe. Nothing special, perhaps
just coffee, a biscotti, some yogurt, and fruit. But company makes
everything much better, right?
She found them, sitting in the warm morning light, dreaming of something
indefinable. Her voice found her, and she called out to them, waving
quietly. They beckoned her over, and she smiled as she sat down.
Eriol, when he first saw her, nearly choked on his coffee. How beauteous,
and fresh she looked. Her smile, and laugh....in words he could not
describe. The three of them chatted quietly, about the wonder of
Italy, the weather, and life in general. Nobody was aware of
the wind singing secrets from the sea. The breakfast had been finished,
and Nakuru explained that she had to go get Spinel who was still sleeping.
Tomoyo and Eriol would meet her at in the small, bright old street which
the their was one very fine tree. They would meet under this tree.
The two walked, at first quiet, but by and by they found their voices again.
Tomoyo told of him of her life in Italy, and Eriol told of her of
life in Japan, and that was the way it was. And yet, the conversation
died out, for the shadows of secrets separated them once again. The
only sound was the world around them, growing, slowly, and quietly.
The sunny shop venders roofs, the worn cobblestones, the splashes of color
with blooming flowers. Beautiful.
The two continued to walk, slowly, and then, finally, the words found
Tomoyo and she spoke. There was no vague actions took today, only
strait forward, and the brutal truth.
She barely noticed Eriol's last words, "I hope we can meet often while
we are in Italy..."
The meaning spread throughout her, and now the ache, the painful ache,
made her regret ever leaving. Once again, she had to flee from Eriol,
the person who made her life full of light once again. Yet, willingly,
she traveled back into the darkness of Japan.
"I am sorry, Eriol." Tomoyo began, "I will only be able to spend
now with you. Because...you see, I was supposed to leave today."
Quiet. The world continued. She continued, "I should have told
you last night, but I didn't want another fight. So..."
Her voice died out, it was now over, she had said what she had to.
Eriol remained walking, his hair covering his eyes, a shadow thrown
across his face. His lips moved, forming the words, "When do you
have to leave?"
"Almost now, but I wanted to wish Nakuru good bye. I am traveling
down to Sicily, and taking a local plane to Switzerland, and from there...back
to Japan..."
"Ah...Japan. So you are returning there, are you?" Irony filled
his voice. Not cruel, but questioning. He looked at Tomoyo,
his gray eyes a mixture of reflection, and sorrow. But irony glinted
through them like the star which led the people, "Well, I must say, Tomoyo
it is too bad that you will be leaving. I trust that you will come
and visit me, after all, it gets so boring having nothing to do..."
Tomoyo smiled. Dear, sweet, wonderful Eriol. "Of course
Eriol, believe me, I will come and visit often, as soon as I sell some
of my designs and earn enough money."
Eriol laughed, happily, "Tomoyo, you yourself know that everyone has
been begging to buy those things. It's you who has to be willing
to sell."
The sorrow had faded, and only irony and happiness lay in their path.
Eriol stopped, and looked at Tomoyo. This would be last time
he would see Tomoyo in a very long time, he must remember her...
Slowly, he took his hand, and wrapped it around Tomoyo's, bringing it to
his lips, and gently brushing them against it. He looked up, and
their eyes met for that moment of time. He smiled, "I must say, Tomoyo,
Nakuru will be heartbroken."
The warmth came again, and yet she smiled, enjoying the feeling, "I
am sure she will manage." She closed her eyes as she knelt forward,
and slowly kissed Eriol his brow. The scent of him momentarily intoxicated
her. "I will miss you more than you know." She heard him say.
Tomoyo smiled, quietly, sadly, "No, Eriol, I know. It is the
same for me too."
How she wished she could have hugged him, but instead she turned her
head to the moving figure who was moving in their direction. It was
Nakuru, a smile spread across her face. In a few moments, this smile
would be replaced with tears. And it a matter of hours, Tomoyo would
be riding the plane to her home. Home...
~~
AN: *sniff* Aww, poor Eriol and Tomoyo. Anyways...next chapter,
woah, I have no idea. Either it might be the final chapter, or else,
Tomoyo and Eriol ponder about eachothers feelings, and then they call eachother...or
something. damn. no clue. Anyways, enjoy.
feel free to e-mail me
furinkoto_neko@yahoo.com
Also...um, sorry for any misspelled words and typo's. >