TheViolets Do Blossom In Winter

The Courtship of Daidouji Tomoyo


A Card Captor Sakura Fan Fiction


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Chapter Ten

Wiles Of The Fair Sex


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Keroberos was hugely amused at his rival's disaster. Not for one moment did Sakura's Sun Guardian pause in hammering away at Spinel with snide remarks about milk teeth and puppy slobber and hair balls.

"Oh, leave me alone!" Suppi fairly howled, trying to drown his humiliation in the cleansing suds of a wash basin.

Downstairs in the living room, Yoko, a grumpy Touya, and family patriarch Fujitaka entertained Eriol and Li. Sakura and Tomoyo were in Sakura's bedroom, doing something so important that no one else –especially the boys– should see it.

"Those two are up to something." Despite his grumpiness, Syaoran gratefully accepted the cheesecake slice Yoko offered him. "Anyone can see it from a mile away. They were smiling the same clever way you do, Hiiragizawa. Then there was that large box Daidouji had with her! It's a conspiracy, I'm sure of it!"

Eriol smiled at his perturbed relation. "Dear cousin, let not the wiles of the fair sex overly trouble you. After all of this has come to pass, you will see the wisdom in this and be a better man for it."

"What does that mean in plain English?"

"Wait and see."

Li contented himself with pretending Eriol was the cake he vigorously chopped with a knife.

"Sakura's always like that, kid," Touya interposed with a hint of malice. "Why don't you just give up on her and go find yourself someone else who'd suit you?"

The remark earned him a dagger-eye glare as Syaoran seriously contemplated toasting this detestable future-in-law with a Kashin Shourai.

"To-Ya!" Yoko nudged her boyfriend. "Quit teasing Li-kun about Sakura-chan!"

Tomoyo's call of "We're ready" drifted down the stairs.

"Finally..." Li folded his arms in front of him and assumed an excessively disinterested pose. Beside him, Eriol merely tipped his glasses back up his nose and waited, as did Fujitaka, dour Touya, and amused Yoko.

Down came the winsomely smiling Tomoyo. Her cause of delight followed half a dozen steps behind.

Gracefully tentative, an angel descending into the mortal realm, Kinomoto Sakura came to face her friends and family.

Simply put, she stunned everyone. Her short mane was restyled into an angelic halo of delicate auburn lightly held in place by beautiful ruby clips. The slight dab of ruby red lipstick and facial powder enhanced her naturally pretty features and giving her a glowing aura of noble kindness.

Her gown was the indisputable proof that Tomoyo did have excellent taste in costume design. The white masterpiece was a soft length of milky cotton, pure and effortlessly flowing. Graceful sashes of light blue and expert sewing melded it to Sakura's petite figure. It moved with her as she approached her admiring audience, the long skirt swaying, the lacy hem just barely refraining from kissing the floor, giving her the appearance of a shimmering mirage: beautiful, desirable, ephemeral.

In fact, the only thing marring the entire show– and not by much– was Sakura's face colored up like a crimson neon sign.

"What do you think?" she bashfully asked.

Her father beamed. "You look lovely, dear." In fact, Fujitaka wisely kept to himself– not that his daughter or his object of comparison would mind–, you remind me of your Aunt Sonomi back during that ball in high school…

"Not too shabby," grudgingly admitted Touya. That was high praise for him, but not for Yoko. At her nudging, he added, "Rather nice, too– for a monster…"

Sakura was too nervously focused on her fiancé to retaliate. "Li-kun?"

The slack-jawed Syaoran stared so hard at her that Sakura feared his eyes might pop out of their sockets or his jaw fall off. Nevertheless, with an almighty effort of his renowned iron will, he forced his gaping cavern of his mouth to mumble a single word of praise, the best one he could think of in a daze:

"Wow."

Sakura exuberantly pumped her hand into the air. "Yatta!"

"Your greatest triumph yet, eh, Tomoyo?" Eriol congratulated the understandably proud self-appointed fashion designer.

"Of course…"

"Maybe Daidouji has something to show us as well, kid," Touya snickered. "What do you say, Hime-sama?"

No one –even Eriol– expected Tomoyo to be so startled and affected by the inquiry. "Oh!" exclaimed the girl, "I was so intent on making the best gown for Sakura-chan, I totally forgot about what I was going to wear tonight!"

Sakura's grimace somehow failed to spoil her darling look.

Eriol burst into low-key laughter. He held a hand up to his mouth in a faint effort to control his amusement while his other hand waved silent excuses.

Tomoyo blushed and raised a hand as if to swat at him. "Eriol!"

"Pardon me, Tomoyo," the blue-haired youth managed between laughs. "It's just that you reminded me of a friend I knew long ago. She was such a serious sort, but she always kept forgetting an important issue at the last moment. We always had to postpone our business until she could finish her dues."

Curiosity replaced embarrassment. "Whom do you mean by that, Eriol?"

"It's a secret." He smiled.

"Well, at least we now know what an evil sorcerer sounds like when he laughs," commented Touya.

Yoko elbowed him.


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"Oh, no, no, no! None of these will do!"

Eriol offered to accompany her back home; the Daidouji residence was on the way to his hotel lodging. "Come back at eight o'clock!" Tomoyo bid him as they parted.

"I will."

She left Midnight to her bodyguards. The Women In Black were unusually nonplussed by this latest duty. Plus, one of them seemed to be allergic to dog fur.

Three hours was just not enough. She dared not linger for too long in the comfortable warmth of her bath tub, and spent the whole time thinking of possible combinations of clothing that would look formal, nice and (most important) not steal the spotlight from Sakura. Half an hour later found Tomoyo in her pajamas, brushing her hair and racking her brain like mad. She was sure of one item she would wear, and she wanted to wear it no matter what the rest of her clothes were.

But of course her other clothing had to match it. They just had to.

Thirty minutes of rummaging through her considerable dresser –every quarter of the year, her mother would take her out to shop at classy fashion outlets– had produced nothing.

Nothing, that is, that could complement the scarf she so desired to wear.

Not just for once, Tomoyo was being rather irrational.

"Is my little fashion designer having trouble with clothes?"

Daidouji Sonomi walked into her startled daughter's room. "I guess I'd be hard put to find something fir for that scarf," she told Tomoyo. "It is a nice scarf, after all. And we certainly don't want to disappoint Eriol and Kaho-sensei."

Blushing at being caught in trouble, Tomoyo hid the scarf behind her. Around her, though, were enough gowns and blouses and skirts to put her away for life.

Sonomi smiled endearingly. "Tomoyo. Come with me, will you?"

Puzzled, Tomoyo followed her mother into the master bedroom, Sonomi's hitherto private abode. Sonomi unlatched an elegant oaken closet. She stepped aside to let Tomoyo see her treasure.

Tomoyo gasped.

"This gown was the one I wore to my own junior prom." Pride and wistfulness mixed themselves well within Sonomi's throat. "I remember that memory quite clearly; oh, it was such a lovely evening." She grimaced. "That is, until I found out that worthless schemer Kinimoto was the one who escorted my dearest Nadeshiko that night. Oh, that conniving scoundrel! I can never forgive him for taking advantage of my sweet wisteria blossom!"

Tomoyo suppressed a grin as her mother lost herself in expounding upon "that evil man Kinimoto's malevolent designs" upon her cousin Nadeshiko. Sonomi then realized she was declaiming again, ground the bad memory under a mental heel, and went on.

"Anyway, I met the man who would be your father at the same prom. He was Fujitaka's student, his star pupil– but from a different class than ours. I will not call it love at first sight, I'd tell you this. I hated him almost as much as I hated Fujitaka because he was helping his mentor win Nadeshiko's heart and foiling my attempts to separate them. But after Nadeshiko married Fujitaka, that young man suddenly became very nice to me.

"Of course, I first hated him. But I gradually came to like him as well. And he liked me as well. It was nice, having someone who liked me.

Sonomi was lost deep within her reminisce now, alive once more in a world she thought had departed her decades past. "Even now, I still love him, just as Fujitaka loves Nadeshiko. Love is eternal. It is not limited by space or time or the world and everything in it. It is forever. As long as it lasts, so will the people who feel it. As long as two people are in love, they will always be together."


As long as two people are in love… they will always be together…


Sonomi carefully placed the gown in her daughter's hands. "Tomoyo. Take heart whatever happens to you. Wear this gown, as I wore it in the past. Let destiny decide if you will find your love come to you this night, or on any other night. Remember, you will find someone to love you, as I did. No matter how long, or how hard, in the end, you will find him."

Never had her mother been so emotional. There was a first time for everyone, Tomoyo decided, as there would always be a time for love.

She accepted the delicate silks her mother entrusted her with great care. "I will, Mama," she promised.

Sonomi smiled. She thought lovingly of a handsome face, a comforting presence unseen and unheard but felt very clearly. Only now have I noticed that our daughter has grown up into a wonderful young woman, just like my dearest cousin Nadeshiko. I pray that you watch over her this night, both you and Nadeshiko, wherever you may be.

And… and I will always love you and Tomoyo, until the end and beyond…


Perhaps there was a faint shimmer of light outside the window, as if a faint figure in white passed by, visible just for one moment. Tomoyo barely spotted, her attention called by that tiny flicker of white. And then it was gone with nothing to mark its passing.

Nothing, that is, but a single white feather, lying on the floor.


To Be Continued


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Fifteen minutes of fame for the eternal camera girl to finally stand in the spotlight.

Next in Violets: A Match Made In Heaven.