Nadesico's Daughter:

.:Interlude: Tomoyo:.

A Card-Captor Sakura Fanfiction by Kit Spooner





Breakfast at my house was generally a formal affair. It wasn't necessarily a traditional breakfast, but Mother and I met every morning to enact the ritual of eating together. Mother always said it was the civilized thing to do.

Recently, Mother had taken a shine to English-style breakfasts, so I was unsurprised to be faced with a plate of fried eggs, fried ham, and fried potato wedges. A wicker basket of steaming crumpets sat between Mother's seat and mine, along with a generous pot of tea. Earl Grey, I guessed. I wasn't particularly fond of English breakfasts, though I did enjoy the tea varieties. I found I missed the time when Mother had hired the French pastry chef to create mouth-watering delicacies for breakfast.

Mother was already seated when I came downstairs, her full attention on the thick sheaf of papers she was reading through. I'd had a late night, and hadn't awoken as early as usual. I was still sleepy, and I think it probably showed. If Mother noticed, however, she made no comment on the fact. "Good morning, Tomoyo-chan," she murmured over the rim of her delicate porcelain teacup.

Mother was using the tea service she'd bought in Denmark nearly twenty years ago. It was a pale, translucent white, with a dainty tracery of flowers and leaves around the rims. They were glorious, sunrise-pink dianthus flowers, Nadesico's flowers. I wondered if the selection of the tea set this morning meant something.

"Good morning, Mother," I replied, a little distracted.

"Sit down," Mother said. "I'll pour you a cup of tea." The spout of the beautiful teapot clinked softly against the rim of the fresh teacup she'd found. "British style?" I nodded and watched my mother add a generous dollop of cream to my cup, along with a teaspoonful of sugar. She set the cup and saucer in front of me and went back to her reading. I think it was part of the quarterly earnings report for the company. I wasn't curious enough to ask, so I turned my attention to breakfast.

My eggs, ham and potatoes were still steaming faintly, but the aroma was strong enough to turn my stomach. English breakfasts are perhaps not the best thing to awake to after scrubbing one's room clean of gaki goo all night. Instead of working on the fried food, I helped myself to a crumpet and slathered it with butter. Even if we'd lost the French pastry chef to a newly opened restaurant, our current chef was a whiz with crumpets. Perhaps that accounted for Mother's recent fascination with English cuisine.

I nibbled at the buttery crumpet, which melted deliciously in my mouth, alternating bites with sips of my tea. I was glad Mother didn't use the Danish tea service very often. The pieces were so fine, so delicate that I was always afraid that they would crumble in my hands. The porcelain was to thin that it was translucent around the edges of the cups. Yet as far as I knew, no one had broken a single piece of the tea set, despite it's occasional use and misuse. Perhaps the porcelain was stronger than it looked.

I was suddenly reminded of a conversation I'd had with Sakura a few days earlier, when we'd gone shopping at one of the higher class boutiques in town. We never actually bought anything there, but it was always fun to try on the expensive, sophisticated gowns and pretend we were truly adults, and not the giggling teenagers we really were. Sakura had cajoled me into trying on a rather daring creation of wine-colored silk with subtle, jet beadwork along the hems.

"You're so beautiful, Tomoyo-chan!" Sakura had exclaimed, her face lit with delight.

"As are you, Sakura-chan," I'd replied with that gentle smile I always saved for Sakura. And indeed, Sakura had been stunning in her filmy layers of midnight blue chiffon.

Sakura had blushed, as she always did when complimented. "But I'm not like you," she'd explained. "You're so slim and delicate, like a flower. Sometimes you look so very fragile, as though a good breeze would knock you over . . . "

We'd both laughed at Sakura's silliness, but now I remembered her words. Delicate. Fragile. My mirror upstairs agreed with Sakura's estimation of my body. But maybe I'm like the nadesico tea service, I thought inanely, Perhaps I'm stronger than I look.

"Did Sakura-chan leave already?" Mother suddenly asked, breaking into my idle musings.

"She left last night," I replied, not quite lying. "Li-kun brought her over when she fainted after cheerleading practice, but later on she was feeling better, so she went home."

"Ah," my mother said, giving me a penetrating glance. "I see." And she obviously did see.

I winced inwardly and buttered another crumpet. Mother always seems to know when I'm stretching the truth, or sidestepping the truth entirely, particularly when it has something to do with Sakura-chan and her family. For someone who still holds such a grudge against the man who married her beloved cousin, Mother certainly does keep a close watch on Fujitaka Kinomoto and his offspring. To this day, I don't know if she watches over them out of love, or out of duty.

It really could be either possibility. Her love is obvious, as obvious as mine is, though her duty is less so, buried in the family vaults. When she was young, my mother had refused to carry on the line of Amamiya priestesses. Sonomi Amamiya had better things to do than rot away in some temple. So she had gone to school, had thrown herself into her studies. This might have caused more of an uproar among the Amamiya elders had not sweet, young Nadesico been an even more qualified candidate for the family legacy.

I still have trouble reconciling the different pictures of Sakura's mother that my mother paints. Sometimes Nadesico is the flighty creature who caught Fujitaka Kinomoto with her ethereal beauty, and held him with her innocently beguiling ways. But sometimes Nadesico is the half-wild child that my mother grew up with, the girl who ran unfettered and barefoot through the forests, the girl who fairly worshiped her grandmother, the powerful matriarch of the Amamiya family.

But as so often happens, things went awry. Nadesico never finished her studies, never even finished high school. Instead, she met an older man, who quickly earned her love and the enmity of her family. By the time Nadesico was truly gone, it was too late for Sonomi to take over as the Amamiya heir, even had she changed her mind and agreed to it. Mother didn't like to talk about it much, but I'd wheedled the story out of my great-grandfather once.

I knew that Mother's failure to carry on the family tradition was a sore point for her. She felt she had disappointed her family, maybe Nadesico, in particular. I know that I was a bit of a disappointment for Mother. Perhaps Mother thought that if she herself couldn't carry on the family legacy herself, then perhaps her daughter could. The Amamiya blood is strong; it flows pure and true in most female descendants. But not me. Nadesico was chosen to become an Amamiya priestess, her husband was the reincarnation of a ridiculously powerful sorcerer, her son was a gifted psychic, and her daughter was the destined successor to the sorcerer's power. Sonomi's daughter was . . . a photographer, a fashion designer.

Sometimes I feel like I'm deaf, and all of my friends and family are musicians, or at the very least, lovers of music. I can't appreciate it. I don't even understand it.

Mother seemed to notice that I was drifting off, and began to question me about my upcoming day. I told her that I was taking a text book over to Sakura's house after breakfast; she'd left it here last night, I explained. Mother gave me another of her half-believing smiles and simply nodded. "Tell dear Sakura-chan that I said hello."

"Yes, Mother," I replied as I drained the last of my tea and wiped the corners of my mouth with my napkin.

Mother paused, her eyes growing distant. Her facial expression was one I normally associated with thoughts of Nadesico. I briefly wondered what it would be like to lose the one I love the most, as my mother had. "How is Sakura-chan doing these days? She hasn't come over recently."

"We've both been busy," I temporized. I couldn't very well tell my mother about Sakura's shields.

"Hmm," said my mother absently, her eyes still focused on something else.

I stood and politely excused myself.


It was only a few blocks walk to Sakura's house, and the weather was pleasant. It turned out to be a lovely walk, despite the uncomfortable weight of the textbook in the bag slung over my shoulder. I probably should have carried it in my school bag, since the satchel was bumping against my hip with every step. Sakura's clothes from the night before, carefully cleaned and folded, cushioned the impact of the heavy textbook somewhat.

When I rang the doorbell, there was silence within. It took Sakura several minutes to make it down to the door. When she finally appeared, she was still looking sleep-rumpled in the pajamas I had loaned her the previous night. "Tomoyo-chan?" she asked blearily, rubbing her eyes.

"Good morning, Sakura-chan," I said cheerily, giving her the smile she was used to. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I was just returning your clothes and your math book. You left them at my house last night."

Sakura still didn't look terribly awake, so I led her back into the house and up to her room. "I'll explain it to you over breakfast," I told her before leaving her to change out of my pajamas.

I went back downstairs to search for food for Sakura. I was reluctant to make a mess of the kitchen simply to make one breakfast. I should have brought over some of the crumpets, I thought. Fortunately, in the refrigerator I found a neat row of covered boxes, left by Sakura's father, each carefully labeled. What a thoughtful father, I thought as I pulled out the one labeled 'Sakura-san's Saturday Breakfast.'

Sakura was a little more alert by the time she came downstairs. I watched her eat her breakfast, noting the unusual pallor of her face, the slight hollows of her cheeks, the way her eyes seemed huge and dark. "You look tired, Sakura-chan," I commented once she'd polished off the last of her rice.

Instead of denying my accusation, she merely sighed. "I am tired," Sakura admitted. Then her lips curled into a tiny frown. "Or rather, part of me is tired, very tired, but part of me feels . . . oh, I don't know, energized, maybe. I don't know what it is." She rested her chin on her propped up fist. "Maybe it's a vitamin deficiency or something."

"You could be right," I lied. "Perhaps you should go to the pharmacy later today and buy some vitamins." Inwardly, I was worried. I wanted to ask Syaoran about what was happening to Sakura, but I suspected he didn't know. And asking him would only worry him even more. As it was, he was running himself nearly ragged dispatching gaki.

Sakura nodded vaguely and took her breakfast dishes over to the sink to clean them.

"You seemed energetic enough at lunch yesterday, though," I told her with a sly, secretive smile that I knew she found maddening.

Sakura looked at me blankly for a moment, trying to figure out what I was talking about. Then I could see the realization hit her. She blushed prettily. "Tomoyo-chan!" she exclaimed.

"You certainly charmed Li-kun," I commented blandly, watching Sakura's response. Her cheeks flamed and she began to babble denials. I hid my satisfied smile.

Sakura was able to regain control of her mouth enough to breathlessly ask me, "So you think he likes me?"

I laughed outright this time. The question was ludicrous. "Of course he likes you, Sakura-chan!" I told her. "Why wouldn't he?"

Sakura looked so embarrassed that I decided to stop teasing her for a while. It was truly amazing the way she'd suddenly become aware of Syaoran's presence. She'd been watching the boy for the past few days, but in the last 24 hours or so she'd seemed particularly fascinated by him. I knew, without any occult knowledge or magical power, that Sakura's shields were beginning to fade.

All at once, I felt a sudden pang of jealousy. When Sakura regained her memories, she would remember her interrupted relationship with Li Syaoran. She would remember that she loved him. And as for me . . . well, I would let her go . . .

I've always felt that these past five years have been something of a gift to me. I've had five more years of Sakura, all to myself. Syaoran has had to wait for his turn. Now, as the time approached, I found it was difficult to comprehend letting her go again, but I knew I would do it. I had to. She loved Syaoran. And I loved her enough to let her love him.

"I brought over your math book and you clothes," I said, changing the subject. "You left them at my house last night."

"Last night?" Sakura looked vaguely confused.

"I don't know how much you remember," I explained gently. "But you came over after cheerleading practice, and fainted practically on my doorstep. So I brought you inside, loaned you some pajamas, and let you rest. Later on, you were feeling a little better, so I walked you home, but you forgot your clothes. And your book." I set my satchel, heavy with the textbook and lumpy with the clothing, on the tabletop.

"Oh," said Sakura, her eyes still not quite comprehending. "I see. Thank you, Tomoyo-chan." Her face was a little pale, and I wondered if she was dealing with something more troublesome than mere confusion.

"Are you sure you're all right, Sakura-chan?" I asked her, unable to keep the concern from my voice.

Sakura hastened to assure me. "I'm fine, really!" she said, trying to smile. "I just feel very strange this morning. Maybe it's an after-affect of the fainting last night."

I sighed. "If you say you're all right, then I believe you," I told her, though I know she could tell that I didn't believe her. "You should still take it easy this afternoon, though."

Sakura nodded quickly. "I will, Tomoyo-chan. Nii-chan and Yukito-san are coming over for lunch in a bit, but after that I can rest. Maybe I can take a nap or something . . ."

"That's probably a good idea." I rose from my chair. "I should probably go," I told her. "I still have some homework to finish."

Sakura stood and saw me out to the door. "Maybe we can do something together this evening, ne, Tomoyo-chan?"

"If you're feeling better, that would be nice." I found I couldn't quite refuse the temptation to spend a little more time with her before her memories returned. I slipped my shoes back on and opened the door. "Goodbye, Sakura-chan!"

"Goodbye, Tomoyo-chan!" she returned, closing the door after me.

As I headed down the walkway to the gate, I saw a car pull up into the driveway. It looked familiar, but it wasn't until Touya and Yukito stepped out of it that I realized it was the car they had bought a few weeks earlier. "Good morning, Tomoyo-san," Yukito called, waving cheerily. Touya gave me a brief nod of greeting.

I smiled and walked toward them. "Good morning," I replied. "I just stopped off to return a few things to Sakura-chan."

"You're not staying for lunch?" Touya asked. He looked a bit distracted, but not enough to keep him from being polite.

"I have work to do at home," I told him.

Yukito suddenly made a strange sort of sighing noise and I glanced over at him. He had the most unusual look in his eyes that I'd ever seen, as though he were looking at something far off. Was that a glint of moon-shot silver I saw? He shook himself from his reverie and smiled down at me. "Well, perhaps we'll see you later, Tomoyo-san," he said, his eyes still strangely unfocused.

Touya led Yukito up towards the house, and I let myself out through the gate, but I found myself still distracted by the strangeness in Yukito's stare. I knew it was probably another side-effect of Sakura's shielding. Yet Touya seemed a little distant as well, as though deep in thought. I shivered as I walked briskly down the street. For the thousandth time I wished I had inherited the Amamiya gifts, wished I could help Sakura.

As it was, I could only wait.


Notes:

Hmm, that was shorter than I originally intended, but I got through all the points I needed to. Ah, well. It's still got a few rough spots, but overall I'm fairly pleased. I particularly like the breakfast scene with Sonomi. I found that Tomoyo's thought processes are scarily similar to my own, or at least they ended up that way. I've always seen Tomoyo as a bright girl, who isn't quite as meek as she acts all the time. She's devious, and manipulates those around her, but it's never with ill-intent. She truly loves Sakura, and is probably jealous of Syaoran, but does recognize their bond. Poor Tomoyo-chan! Anyhow, I hope this chapter answered a few questions, and brought up a few more (particularly about the whole Amamiya family thingie). All will be explained soon! I swear!