~~ A Cappella ~~

A Card Captor Sakura Fanfiction by Kit

All characters portrayed here are the property of CLAMP, Kodansha, a bunch of other Japanese media companies, and a certain Canadian dubbing company that will heretofore go unnamed. I don't claim to own these characters, but the situations I put them in belong to me. I would rather this wasn't posted anywhere without my permission (right now it can be found on the CCSFWML groups site, the CCSFWML website, and fanfiction.net), so email me with questions. Don't steal. I bite.





Part Two -- Intermezzo

intermezzo -- n. -- 1: a movement coming between the major sections of an extended musical work 2: a usu. Brief interlude or diversion

Later that afternoon, as Tomoyo was making her way toward the front gates on her way home, she paused to watch curiously as a group of four older boys skulked in the bushes outside the library. She didn't know them, but since they wore the Clef Academy uniform, she had to assume they were upperclassmen. As one, they turned to see her staring at them.

Instead of looking embarrassed, the boys looked nervous, almost frightened. Their eyes were darting around, as though keeping an eye out for some mysterious threat. Tomoyo finally spoke up. "Are you alright?" she asked politely, carefully pronouncing the awkward English words. She wondered if this was some strange English school tradition that Tasha and her father had failed to tell her about.

The tallest of the boys shushed her frantically. "Be quiet! She'll hear you!"

Tomoyo blinked. "Who?"

"Oh, no, she's headed this way!" squeaked one of the other boys. He was busily trying to compress himself into a tiny ball, small enough to fit under the bush.

Tomoyo peered out around the foliage in the direction the boys's were casting terrified stares. There was indeed a girl running toward the cluster of bushes, her long hair streaming out behind her. "Boys!" she called gleefully, waving in the direction of the cowering students.

"Oh, shit," muttered a third boy.

The boy who had been trying unsuccessfully to fit under the bush suddenly screamed and bolted from the dubious safety of the bushes, tearing across the yard towards the front gates. His friends soon followed suit.

The approaching girl trotted up to stand next to Tomoyo, watching the boys flee, a disappointed pout on her face. "They're getting too darn good at hiding," the girl commented.

"Ah," Tomoyo said, completely bewildered. Then Tomoyo got a good look at the girl. "Nakuru-san?!"

Nakuru glanced at Tomoyo. Then her eyes widened in recognition and her face broke into an overjoyed smile. "Tomoyo-chan!" she squealed before throwing her arms around a suddenly frightened Tomoyo. "What are you doing here? It's been so long since I've seen you and oh, how you've grown! You're practically all grown up now, aren't you? And so pretty!" Nakuru giggled. "Oh, wow, it's so nice to see you again! Are you here with Sakura-chan? Did she bring her delicious brother with her? Oh, never mind, you can tell me later. Come on, I'll make you tea . . ." Without waiting for Tomoyo's response, Nakuru dragged her off by the arm. All Tomoyo could do was struggle to keep up with the taller girl's longer strides.

Hiding in the shadows of the gatehouse, Nakuru's four former victims were watching in horrified relief.

"Wow, that wasn't as hard as it was last time," one of them commented.

"I know," said another. "I guess all we need is a pretty girl to distract Nakuru."

"Well how were we to know? Until now, Nakuru's only chased guys!"

"I feel sorry for that little girl Nakuru dragged off," a third boy commented.

"Yeah, she was really cute," the last boy said absently.

The other's rolled their eyes. "Don't even think about it," the first boy warned. "You don't want to attract Nakuru's attention again, do you?"

The four boys shuddered as one.


If Tomoyo had retained any illusions about Nakuru's apparent humanity, they would have been shattered by the time Nakuru arrived at the front of a tall, wrought-iron gate, Tomoyo still helplessly in tow. The trip had taken no more than ten minutes, but Nakuru had talked non-stop the entire time, hardly pausing for breath. Even if Tomoyo had had the breath to speak as she was jogging along behind Nakuru, she wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgewise.

". . . is really cute," Nakuru was saying as she quickly keyed in the security code at the ornate gate, "But even Justin isn't half as much fun as Touya-kun. I bet Touya-kun's been having all sorts of fun without me." Nakuru sniffled theatrically and led the way into a small, walled garden. "Is Touya still hung up on that stiff, Yue?"

This time, Nakuru paused long enough for Tomoyo to quickly nod and say, "They're sharing an apartment while they finish college."

Nakuru rolled her eyes. "I should have known. Well, I still think that delicious boy is completely wasted on Yue."

Now that Nakuru's breakneck pace was slowed, Tomoyo finally had a chance to notice her surroundings. Nakuru had dragged her to one of the quieter, upscale neighborhoods near Clef, and the small townhouse they now stood in front of looked expensive, though tasteful, lacking the ostentatious ornamentation that seemed to prevalent in the neighborhood. But it was the formal garden that truly intrigued Tomoyo. She'd slowly grown used to the new types of plants in England, but the gardening style was still totally foreign. It was still early enough in spring that the trees were almost bare, swelling buds a faint green mist across the tips of the branches. A riot of spring-blooming bulbs practically overflowed from the flowerbeds, vigorous green shoots and a profusion of blossoms: crocus, hyacinth, narcissus, and others Tomoyo hadn't learned the names for yet.

"I love your garden," Tomoyo said after a long silence.

Nakuru beamed. "It is pretty, isn't it?" She pulled her shoes and socks off and wriggled her bare toes in the soft, cool grass. "I suppose I should thank you for the compliment, but in fact, it's not really my garden. It's Eriol's of course."

Somehow, Tomoyo wasn't surprised. She had a vague memory from his time in Japan when she heard him talk about how he loved the gardens in England. "Then please tell him I think he's done a wonderful job here."

Nakuru glanced over at Tomoyo, and then past her. "Tell him yourself," she said with a shrug.

"He's home?" Tomoyo wasn't quite sure she wanted to see Eriol. She knew that her questions in the library had been overly personal, and was sorry for it, but she was also still angry at him for bringing up Sakura. It was as though he knew exactly how to hurt her. She didn't think she was ready to apologize to him, or even speak to him.

Nakuru nodded. "Yep, he's home." Again, her gaze drifted somewhere beyond Tomoyo's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. "You can come out now," she said in a somewhat louder tone.

Tomoyo turned in time to see Eriol walk out from the concealing shadows of a vine-shrouded pergola. "I didn't want to interrupt you two," he said calmly, managing to retain his dignity despite the fact that he'd been hiding behind a bush and eavesdropping.

"Of course," Tomoyo said, keeping her expression and tone neutral, though she was giving Eriol a faintly skeptical smile, one eyebrow delicately arched.

"I'll go put the tea on!" caroled Nakuru before darting off down the path toward the house.

Tomoyo watched Nakuru go, still smiling slightly. "She hasn't changed at all," she commented.

Eriol looked slightly startled by Tomoyo's choice of pronouns but nodded his agreement. "Nakuru and Spinel are both much the same as they always were." He gave Tomoyo an apologetic smile. "I take it Nakuru dragged you here straight from school?"

"Yes, but I didn't mind. It's a beautiful day and the exercise is probably good." Tomoyo tilted her head back to catch the warmth of the sunlight. "Spring comes later here, but faster, doesn't it?"

Eriol kept his eyes on Tomoyo. "Sometimes the flowers bloom overnight," he said before reaching out to brush his fingers along the smooth bark of a young birch.

"Sounds like magic, to me," Tomoyo said. It was warm enough that she decided to unbutton her sweater, letting the sweet-scented breeze brush through her hair and ruffle her uniform shirt.

"No magic," Eriol said with a mischievous grin. "I gave up magic long ago."

"How come I don't believe you?" Tomoyo said, matching his grin.

"Maybe because I lied?" Eriol suggested mildly.

"Maybe that's it," agreed Tomoyo.

By mutual, silent agreement, Tomoyo and Eriol decided not to discuss their meeting in the library earlier that morning. Instead, Eriol showed Tomoyo around his garden. As it turned out, Nakuru had been right to call it Eriol's garden. It was obvious from the way Eriol spoke of the plants that he had raised and tended them himself, had handled each seed and bulb and cutting, had coaxed life out of the rocky soil. Tomoyo found herself fascinated, not just by his descriptions of horticulture, but by the intent expression on his face. His teasing smile was gone, replaced by a look of gentle contentment mixed with intense concentration.

"I'll invite you over again in a few weeks when the wisteria blooms," Eriol told her as he rested his hand on the shaggy bark of the huge, gnarled vine that spread across the side of the house. "It's really incredible, Daidouji-san. I know you've seen blooming wisteria in Japan, but it never grows this large there, does it?"

Tomoyo tipped her face up, trying to see all of the huge plant at once. With the house as support, the vine climbed perhaps fifty feet up the side of the building, and spanned nearly twice that width. The base of the plant was huge, the pale bark peeling with age; Tomoyo would probably have been able to encircle it with her arms, but only barely. "I don't recognize the name," Tomoyo finally admitted.

"Oh, they call it wisteria here in England, but it grows in Japan too." Eriol mimicked Tomoyo's posture, staring up at the branching span of the vine. "Fujitaka is probably more familiar to you . . ."

Tomoyo's eyes widened. "Fujitaka? Are you sure it's the same plant?" Tomoyo thought back to the delicate swathes of vines she knew from Tomoeda, tipped with heavy cascades of violet blossoms. Tomoyo had never seen one that grew much higher than ten feet.

Eriol laughed. "Yes, it's the same plant, just a different variant. They seem to grow larger here in England, though there aren't quite as many blooms. It's more wild, less cultured."

Tomoyo was still staring at the framework of the vine across the side of the house. It was nearly impossible to imagine it in bloom, leaves and bundles of flowers practically dripping from the huge expanse of gray-barked branches. "Maybe it's something I'll have to see to really believe," she suggested tentatively. She didn't think that Eriol was truly lying about the wisteria, but he certainly could be exaggerating.

"You're probably right about that," Eriol replied easily. "I can show you some of the fruit trees that are blooming now over on the other side of the house, if you want." Eriol turned and led the way around the back side of the townhouse. "The peach blossoms are particularly nice this year, though the cherry trees are putting on a good show as well . . ."

"Tea's ready!" came an exuberant, effeminate shout from inside. Nakuru's head appeared in the window. "Come in, you two. I want Tomoyo-chan to taste my peach tartlets. They're scrumptious! And Tomoyo-chan still needs to tell me what Touya-kun's been up to!" Nakuru disappeared once more into the house.

"We'd better go," Eriol said, a little apologetically. "Nakuru gets pretty testy when kept waiting. And those tartlets really are very good."

Tomoyo gave Eriol her first genuine smile of the afternoon. "Then lead the way, Hiiragizawa-kun," she said. Tomoyo suspected that her meeting with Nakuru wasn't quite as accidental as it seemed, but she was content to let Eriol manipulate events. In a way, he seemed to be apologizing for his casual cruelty in the library. Tomoyo realized that she'd already forgiven him, and that he probably already knew. Instead of commenting on her suspicions, Tomoyo simply followed Eriol inside, feeling relaxed and welcome for perhaps the first time since leaving Japan.

Tomoyo soon discovered that Nakuru's boasting was well-justified. The peach-filled pastries were perfect, the peaches sweet, slightly tart, the crust flaky, encrusted with sugar crystals that glittered tantalizingly in the afternoon sunlight. Fortunately, Tomoyo was hungrier than she'd initially thought, and between the three of them, Eriol, Nakuru and herself, they made short work of the tartlets.

Nakuru dabbed at a remaining smudge of peach filling on her plate, a mournful expression on her face. "Oh, how I miss Touya-kun!" she lamented. "I've just been desolate without his company!" Nakuru's sorrowful words would have been more compelling had she not burped delicately at the end.

Tomoyo stifled a giggle.

"Very desolate, indeed," Eriol said drily. "So desolate that you can be placated by no one, not even those poor boys you harass at school . . ."

Nakuru looked offended. "Don't be ridiculous, Eriol. They like being chased. If they didn't like being chased, then they wouldn't run, now would they?"

"Impeccable logic," murmured Tomoyo with a hint of a dimpled smile.

Nakuru smirked smugly at Eriol. "See? She understands." Nakuru rose from the table and began collecting the used dishes. "I'll get started on cleaning up."

"Oh, you should let me help," Tomoyo said, starting to rise. "You already cooked for me!"

"Don't worry about it, Tomoyo-chan!" Nakuru said with an expansive wave of her hand. "Just sit down and relax." Then, after shooting Eriol an overly casual glance, Nakuru carted the stack of dishes into the kitchen.

"I suppose I should apologize for Nakuru," Eriol said finally. "Nakuru is my responsibility, and it's therefore my fault when . . . she gets a little excited."

Tomoyo chuckled. "Nonsense," she said airily. "There's nothing to apologize for. I'd say we're even anyway . . ." You hurt me in the library, but I hurt you back. Two wrongs don't make a right, but at least we're equally wrong. Tomoyo knew Eriol was thinking along the same lines, from the slightly rueful expression on his face.

"I'm glad you aren't angry with me, Daidouji-san," Eriol continued. "I know you must be having enough trouble settling in here without my meddling."

"I shouldn't have pried into your affairs," Tomoyo said. It was as close to an apology as she was going to get. Then something else occurred to her. "Hiiragizawa-kun, I don't mean to offend you, or bring up painful memories, but I was hoping you would be able to give me Mizuki-sensei's address. I have a few letters and packages that I brought with me from Tomoeda, and I'm a few months late in delivering them . . ."

"No problem," Eriol said, his voice calm, perhaps overly so. He looked completely unruffled. "I can write it down for you." He stood and walked over to where his backpack was tossed casually on a chair in the entryway. He retrieved a small notebook and pen from the pocket and returned to his seat at the table. After neatly printing the address, he handed to Tomoyo. "She's been teaching during the week, but she's generally around on the weekends. You could try her house tomorrow."

Tomoyo could tell that it hurt him to even think about Kaho, so she accepted the scrap of paper and changed the subject. She would call on Kaho tomorrow, but she didn't need to bother Eriol with the details.

By the time Nakuru reappeared from the kitchen, it was full dark outside, and Tomoyo knew she should get home. Despite her protests, Eriol insisted on walking her home, even though it was a perfectly safe neighborhood. "I can keep you company, at least," he'd said with a winning smile. Tomoyo hadn't really had the heart to refuse him. So Tomoyo gathered her sweater and backpack and they headed out.

The years hadn't been easy for Hiiragizawa Eriol, Tomoyo realized as she listened to his polite small talk. Despite his apparent maturity, Eriol was still only fifteen. The half of Clow's soul that resided in him gave him wisdom beyond his years, but it didn't make things easy for him. Eriol was pleasant company, and his conversation was witty and entertaining, but he seemed to feel a little awkward around Tomoyo. She wasn't sure why. Was he so unused to company? Surely he wasn't isolating himself from others, was he? Was he lonely?

Tomoyo continued to puzzle over Eriol's rather paradoxical nature long after she arrived at her apartment building. Eriol had been charmingly polite in his farewells, promising to invite her over again soon to visit his garden and to see the wisteria in bloom. Tomoyo returned his smiles and thanked him once again for a pleasant afternoon. Then she'd disappeared into her building and he disappeared down the street.

Tomoyo sighed as she waited for the ancient elevator to arrive in the lobby. She'd enjoyed Eriol's company more than she would have expected, even if he did occasionally make her nervous. If nothing else, he was a familiar face. I wonder what he does with himself during and after school, she wondered idly. It really is odd that I hadn't seen him even once before this morning.

When Tomoyo let herself into the apartment, she was greeted by her father's suspicious frown and Tasha's sly smile.

"Where were you all afternoon, Tomoyo?" asked Hiroshi. He was trying to sound stern, but his worry was obvious.

"And who was that attractive young man who walked home with you?" Tasha asked, her voice teasing.

Tomoyo almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. "That was Hiiragizawa Eriol, a friend of mine from Tomoeda. I ran into him today at school and he invited me over for tea." Tomoyo smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry I worried you, Father. I should have called."

Hiroshi sighed. "I suppose that's alright, then," he admitted. "As long as the Hiiragizawa boy is trustworthy, then I suppose you can go out with him."

"Go out with him?!" Tomoyo was startled by her father's choice of words. Her cheeks flamed. Is he suggesting that Eriol and I are . . .

Tasha chuckled softly. "Don't worry about Hiroshi, Tomoyo-chan," she said, affectionately wrapping her arm around Hiroshi's waist. "He's just being the usual over-protective father. Aren't you, love?" She smirked up at her boyfriend.

Hiroshi made a valiant attempt to school his pleasant features into a scowl. "Tasha, stop teasing. This isn't your concern."

Tasha rolled her eyes. "Why not?" she asked pointedly.

"Tomoyo-chan is my daughter, and I'd rather you didn't undermine my authority . . ."

"Your authority? Hiroshi, dearest, most of the time you act like her older brother, instead of her father. You scared the poor child when you glared at her. I just think you need to lighten up a little bit."

"Tasha . . ." Hiroshi was actually getting irritated now. "Let's discuss this some other time."

Tasha was not to be sidetracked. "No, I think this is a perfectly good time to discuss this. Tomoyo is your daughter, but that's only an accident of genetics. I care about her too, and since you both are living in my house, I think I should have a say . . ."

Tomoyo decided to take advantage of the distraction and slip off to her room. Tasha and her father rarely argued, since they were both so easy-going, but when they did fight, it tended to get loud. Normally Tomoyo hated their occasional verbal sparring matches, but tonight she was grateful for their preoccupation. She didn't really feel like explaining Eriol to her father.

The mere idea that she might 'go out' with Hiiragizawa Eriol was ridiculous in it's sheer absurdity. Eriol was attractive enough, but far too strange for Tomoyo's tastes. And besides, the boy was obviously still smitten with the beautiful, mysterious, and powerful Mizuki Kaho. Why on earth would he bother with someone as mundane as Daidouji Tomoyo? Kaho carried an aura of power and grace with her wherever she went, and her own magical skills were nothing to scoff at. Tomoyo had as much magical power as the average rock.

Thoughts of Kaho reminded Tomoyo of the scrap of paper carefully tucked into the pocket of her uniform skirt. Eriol's neat script was perfectly legible, and Tomoyo recognized the part of town that Kaho lived in. It wasn't close enough to walk to, but one of the bus routes would bring her within walking distance. She would just have to hope that her former teacher was home. Tomoyo wasn't sure what she'd do if faced with Kaho's new husband.

Tomoyo sighed and changed into a nightgown, settling down at her vanity to brush out her hair. It will be nice to see Mizuki-sensei again, she thought with a smile. And I do feel bad about keeping all those letters and that package from Sakura-chan for all these months.

The hairbrush crackled through Tomoyo's hair. She'd cut most of it off after her mother had died, but it was growing rapidly, and was now nearly as long as it had been before. Long hair was a pain to take care of, but it was the one vanity Tomoyo allowed herself. She deftly braided her hair back and tied it off. Tomoyo also missed the times when Sakura would brush her hair for her. There was something almost overwhelmingly sensual about the activity, and the feel of Sakura's fingers against her hair was one of Tomoyo's guilty pleasures . . . Tomoyo ruthlessly cut off that line of thinking.

Tomoyo went through the motions of preparing for bed, weary beyond belief, but when she finally turned her light off and settled into bed, she found she couldn't fall asleep. She fretted about Sakura. She fretted about Eriol. She fretted about Kaho. Tomoyo rolled over onto her side.

I just have to stop thinking about everything tonight, she told herself sternly. I'll visit Mizuki-sensei tomorrow, deliver her mail, and try to find out what happened with Eriol. If she was the one to end their relationship, then maybe she'll be more willing to talk about it. Tomoyo's curiosity was enough to distract her from her more personal worries, and after tossing and turning for a few more minutes, she drifted off, her mind still swirling with images of Kaho's long, red hair, the light glinting off of Eriol's glasses, and a pair of painfully familiar, grass-green eyes . . .


It took longer than Tomoyo had expected to arrive at Kaho's house. Part of the problem was that Tomoyo had the address, but didn't really know what she was looking for. She was expecting another luxury townhouse, maybe an older cottage. What she eventually found was a modest mansion.

"Oh, my," she murmured aloud as she stood in front of the gate. The facade was imposing, but not enough to faze someone like Tomoyo. The Daidouji house in Tomoeda had been only slightly smaller.

So Eriol gave this to her as a wedding present? Tomoyo thought as she rang the bell next to the gate. It's a pretty impressive present.

"Hello?" The faintly familiar voice came over through the intercom box next to the gate. "Can I help you?" A video camera swivelled to fix on Tomoyo.

Tomoyo nervously cleared her throat. "My name is Tomoyo Daidouji and I came to visit Kaho Mizuki, if she's home."

There was a significant pause, then the voice spoke again. "Tomoyo-chan? What are . . . Oh, never mind. I'll come and meet you in a minute. Here, I'm opening the gate . . ."

The automated mechanism of the iron gate whirred and clicked and the gate slide sideways enough to admit Tomoyo. A minute and a half later, a tall, leggy redhead in blue gym shorts and a grimy gray tank top came jogging around the corner of the gatehouse. It took Tomoyo a moment to recognize her former teacher.

"Daidouji Tomoyo!" Kaho called, her face lit by a genuinely pleased smile. "How wonderful to see you again." She pulled Tomoyo into a gentle embrace, then pulled back to examine Tomoyo's face. Kaho's smile faltered slightly at what she saw there. "Let's go inside, Tomoyo," she said quietly. "It's too chilly to stand around outside in the shorts I'm wearing."

Kaho lead the way around the house to a smaller, less imposing side door, then inside to a small, sunlit sitting room. "I hope you'll excuse my appearance," Kaho said with a quick grin. "I've been changing the air filters all over the house, and it's generally better if I don't wear nice clothes when I do that. I'm pretty dusty." She shook her head briskly, a cloud of dust rising from her hair.

"You . . . cut your hair," Tomoyo commented inanely. Tomoyo had never really considered Kaho to be the type to do mundane tasks like changing air filters, and it was startling to see her so . . . informal. So Tomoyo's mind focused on the obvious change in her appearance.

"I did," Kaho said, brushing her fingers through her chin-length locks. "I felt it was time for a change, and Greg seems to like it."

Tomoyo regained her composure enough to smile politely and say, "Oh, yes, I hear I'm to congratulate you. Hiiragizawa-kun said you got married a couple months ago. You seem very happy."

"Thank you, Tomoyo-chan," replied Kaho. "I am very happy. Greg is truly my soulmate, and I only regret that my duties kept me from him for so long. I'd love to introduce you to him sometime. He's away at a conference right now, though."

"I'm sure he's a wonderful man." Tomoyo slowly relaxed into her seat. "And besides, I don't think Hiiragizawa-kun would have given you up so easily if your husband wasn't wonderful." Tomoyo knew she was being nosy, but she was still curious about what had happened between Kaho and Eriol.

Fortunately, Kaho didn't seem to mind Tomoyo's implicit questions. Instead, she seemed almost eager to talk to someone so interested in her story. "Easily? I don't know what Eriol told you, but his reaction was anything but easy." With a rueful shake of her head, Kaho rose to her feet. "I'll tell you all about it in just a moment. I'm going to go see if there's are any of the shortbread left. Greg made it yesterday and you look a little hungry. I'll be right back."

Tomoyo watched, bemused, as Kaho slipped out through the doorway. Why is it that they always want to feed me sweets? Tomoyo wondered. Am I too skinny or something?

Kaho soon returned with a plate of butter-gold slabs of shortbread. The shortbread really was delicious, fresh enough that it still crumbled at Tomoyo's touch and melted in her mouth.

"Greg's a great cook," Kaho said proudly after Tomoyo declared that the cookies were incredible. "It's his mother's shortbread recipe. It's even better than Nakuru's."

"I won't tell Nakuru-san that, though," Tomoyo said with a faint smile. "Somehow, I don't think that would go over well."

"You're probably right," Kaho conceded with a sigh. "I do miss having Kaho and Spinel around, though. They certainly kept things lively. Or at least, Nakuru did."

"But you don't miss Hiiragizawa-kun?" Tomoyo asked curiously.

Kaho hesitated, trying to pick the words to best explain the situation. "I do miss Eriol, miss him dreadfully, but I also love my husband, and I know that my decision to leave Eriol was good for both of us."

"Eriol didn't seem to think so." Tomoyo nibbled on another piece of shortbread. "I think he's still hurt."

"Eriol doesn't really understand yet." Kaho looked quietly determined. "Neither does Clow. And that's the root of the problem. The part of Eriol that is Clow Reed depends too much on his magic for guidance. He sometimes seems to forget that he's only fifteen. He can't understand that I'm not his fated partner."

"What do you mean, 'fated'?"

Kaho sighed. "Well, to make a long, boring story short and concise, Clow Reed has always been surrounded by prophecies. The stars foretold his birth hundreds of years before hand. Clow knew the moment of his death since childhood, since he could read it in the fall of ash leaves on a still pond. A few of Clow's prophecies relate to me, and I'm generally referred to as the 'Voice of Silence'." Kaho smiled in a slightly self-deprecatingly. "The prophecies were referring to my bell, of course."

Tomoyo nodded in sudden understanding, remembering the bell in question. Kaho had been fated to give Sakura, Clow's chosen successor, a second chance during the final Judgement of Yue. It made a certain sort of sense to Tomoyo. Kaho continued her explanation.

"But there are no further references to the 'Voice of Silence' after the Judgement, and it's generally been assumed that my task is complete now. But just because my role in Clow's great destiny is now rendered obsolete, that doesn't mean that my own powers and skills are gone. I still read fate in the sacred flames, still dream Clow's prophecies. I've caught hints of my own future, as well as Eriol's. They aren't the same future."

Tomoyo frowned slightly. "Oh. I suppose that's clear enough."

"Well, it didn't satisfy Eriol." Kaho absently rubbed at a patch of dirt on her shirt. "He wanted more concrete proof that we weren't destined to be together. Then, about six months ago, Eriol himself fell into a prophetic trance. I managed to write down everything he said, and fortunately Eriol trusts me enough to believe what was said. To summarize, the prophecy said that I was not destined for Clow, but for Clow's brother. And Clow had his own life-partner out there waiting for him, a new 'Voice'. Clow would finally gain an anchor to keep him firmly tied to the real world."

"Of course, this made no sense for a while, and we decided not to worry about it. Puzzles like prophecy have a tendency to solve themselves with time. Then I met Gregory Reed again. We dated in college, but I hadn't seen him in years. He has no magical talent, to speak of, but Eriol recognized him almost immediately as a descendant of Clow's uncle. I suppose that makes Greg more of a cousin than a brother, to Clow, but . . ." Kaho shrugged philosophically. "Such is the nature of auguries. Eriol and I argued, and I moved out. We eventually made up, but I knew that the time had come for me to leave. Greg proposed about a month later, Eriol gave us the house, and the rest is history. Pretty pathetic story, isn't it?"

Tomoyo's eyes were wide as she absorbed the flood of information. And I thought I'd left the supernatural stuff back in Tomoeda with Sakura-chan. I guess I never thought it would find me again in England . . .

"I think I can understand why Hiiragizawa-kun might still be a little unhappy, though," Tomoyo said, after a long, thoughtful pause. "I'd be hurt if someone I loved left because of some mysterious dream I had."

Kaho smiled gently. "It wasn't just the prophecy, Tomoyo-chan. I fell in love with Greg all over again. I've always loved Eriol, but it's not the kind of love he wanted from me. He complained that I couldn't see past his physical age, but we both know that has nothing to do with it."

Tomoyo sighed and closed her eyes. "It's all very romantic and tragic, Mizuki-sensei," she said in a subdued voice. "Like something out of a fairy tale. And the reincarnated sorcerer is still searching for his one true love . . ."

"Ah, yes," Kaho said with a chuckle. "This mysterious 'Voice' person. The wording is so similar to the usual prophetic references to myself, that Eriol and I were confused for a while, but there's definitely someone else out there for him. He just hasn't met her yet. Or him, maybe. There wasn't a gender implied in the wording of the prophecy."

Despite some of Eriol's more effeminate mannerisms, Tomoyo had a hard time imagining him with another man. "I bet it's a woman," she murmured thoughtfully. "Or a girl, rather."

Kaho watched Tomoyo for a long moment, noting the girl's distant expression. Tomoyo was obviously intrigued by the story, but she also seemed lonely. Kaho smiled to herself. In the back of her mind, she felt something click, and a quick vision of Eriol's smiling face flashed before her mind's eye. For a moment, Kaho knew, with all the certainty that she possessed, that Tomoyo would play a part in this little drama. "You could be right," Kaho finally agreed, still watching the oblivious Tomoyo. "Maybe you ought to help Eriol keep an eye out for this 'Voice' girl?"

Tomoyo blinked, starting from her reverie. She flushed faintly with embarrassment at being caught daydreaming. "I wouldn't want to intrude upon them," she said quickly.

"But you did such an excellent job with Sakura-chan and her young man, didn't you?"

"I suppose I did," Tomoyo said, pride evident in her voice. "But I suspect Li-kun would have gotten his act together all on his own, even if I hadn't been there to give him the occasional push. Of course, it might have taken him another decade to do it, but still . . ."

Kaho laughed and shook her head. "I think sometimes you underestimate your own worth, Tomoyo-chan. You affect the people around you more than you think."

Tomoyo's cheeks flushed a little once more. "I don't know . . ."

"Well, I wouldn't want to force you into anything, but I think you might want to try spending more time with Eriol. I know he enjoys your company, and you'll find he's a fairly fun kid to be around, as long as he isn't in one of his moods. And you can flex your matchmaking skills again when you find a potential 'Voice.'" Kaho winked.

"That sounds like it might be fun," Tomoyo decided with a sly grin of her own. "Eriol always liked to manipulate events behind the scenes, didn't he? I wonder how he would feel if we turned the tables on him?"

The question hung in the air for a few moments before teacher and former-student burst into laughter. Kaho might have been more than a decade older than Tomoyo, but in that instant, they were simply friends, equals, giggling at the stubborn behavior of a mutual acquaintance. Magic and prophecy were all very well and good, but sometimes shortbread and smiles are more efficient.