A/N: err... late, more than ever, I know. Did I die? Nearly. I had a lot of personal problems to sort through (I didn't want this story to have too much angst for one chapter). Also, I had to decide where I wanted to take this story; I've determined that it would be 14 chapters (with the last being the epilogue).
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Chapter 9: Dissonance
Dissonance: A simultaneous sounding of tones that produces a feeling of tension or unrest and a feeling that further resolution is needed.
"What have I told you about men, Tomoyo?" Sonomi asked, sneering down at the girl on the floor.
"I know Mother, I know," the raven-haired girl whispered brokenly, choking on every other syllable. "Men are bad. I can't let them near me or they will hurt me. I'm so sorry."
"You're lying, you little slut!" The tall woman bellowed raising her hands as if to slap the girl. Tomoyo shied away, covering her face with her hands. She stifled another sob, knowing full well how her mother despised shows of weakness. "I've seen the way you were acting toward him."
"B-but," Tomoyo stammered, biting her lip; her mother also didn't appreciate displays of disobedience. "We were just talking."
"Don't lie to me, girl!" Her mother nearly shouted, her delicate nostrils flaring in rage. "I saw how you were all over him, like some common whore. Do you think I'm blind? He was – he was touching you!"
"I was cold, Mother, he was trying to warm me up," Tomoyo amended, fighting to keep a neutral note in her voice, though her knuckles were white from the tight grasp she had of her plain dress.
"You let him touch you!" The woman was near hysteria by now, an angry red staining her high cheekbones. "You could have turned away, slapped him, insulted him, but no! You purposely let him approach you, talk to you, dance with you and then lay his greasy, filthy hands on you!"
Sonomi sighed deeply and dramatically, clasping her hands in front of her in a very motherly fashion. Looking at her daughter, who in turn was forced to look at her, the woman seemed almost compassionate, though there was a cruel edge to her jaw. "Oh, Tomoyo," she said melodramatically, shaking her head, "what am I going to do with you? I have taught you everything I know and I only want what's best for you. You know that I do everything for you. Oh, why can't you be a good little girl?"
"I'm sorry, Mother," Tomoyo bowed her head, feeling oddly shamed. Her mother always had that sort of an effect on her. There were times when the woman would make ridiculous suggestions but expect them to be taken seriously, and Tomoyo always did, simply because she had no choice. She knew that she was just being toyed with, but given the limited freedoms that were granted to her, what could she possibly to otherwise?
"You would have to be disciplined then," another deep sigh escaped the woman's lips. "After supper, you are to go the Dark Room."
"Yes, Mother," Tomoyo said obediently, dejectedly. Inside she wanted to scream or weep or die. She hated the Dark Room, feared it more than death itself. 'God,' she though, and even though she tried to tell herself that everything would end eventually, a ball rose to her throat. 'God, please, I'm so tired of this. I just want for this to end.'
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"She's changing."
Sakura intoned beside him, looking at Eriol sideways, sparing him a tiny smile. The day was stifling; the breeze that blew over the water and onto the streets was humid and damp. The girl blew her light brown bangs out of her eyes, vexed that how no matter hard she tried the hair wouldn't stay put.
Sakura's initial declaration of help startled the lord, made his heart leap to his throat and slow down a few beats. He had seen the girl a scant few times before, and always she was with Tomoyo. His Blue Bird – as he had taken to calling the Daidouji heiress – repelled his advances that one time, had, in fact, outright rejected him. So it came to him as a bit of a surprise and shock to be asked for help so frankly, though he had never intended to let the Blue Bird fly in the first place.
The two were walking along the streets, carefully avoiding rolling cards and other passerbys. Eriol felt the sun beat down on him, dizzily, and he instinctually brought a hand to cover his eyes.
"Tomoyo – your mistress – you mean?" Asked Eriol, sparing Sakura a glance – just to make sure that she was telling the truth. The dark-haired youth had a natural ability when distinguishing truths from lies, but it still helped to be prudent with his assumptions.
"Hm," Sakura nodded. "I've known Tomoyo for many years now. Since we were five or so, I think; I can't even remember now," she smiled lightly, eyes glazing. "I her met one time in an ice cream parlour. My brother took me there for my birthday. We would dress up when we were young, you know, pretend that we were all grown up and such. She'd always be the quiet and reserved one; I'd always be the thorn in her side, constantly dragging her after me."
Sakura was lost in memory lane now, Eriol realized though he didn't stop the flow of words. Perhaps, he reasoned, this would be his chance to find out more about Tomoyo. Lord knew he spent too much time as it was contemplating the deeper workings of the girl, without much success. He shrugged slightly. It wasn't as if she would willingly volunteer information to him, anyway.
"The family hired me not a couple of months before the late Lord Daidouji passed away. I was supposed to be like a playmate to Tomoyo as well as handmaid, we were close friends by that time anyway. Tomoyo wasn't allowed to go outside much, still isn't. I don't really know why. And when her father passed away, things changed so much. She wasn't even allowed to look out windows without a veil over her face. She wasn't allowed to go outside at all, only on Sunday for church masses, and then she would be scolded if she looked directly at someone.
"Eventually she stopped acting like herself. I don't know how to explain it, but she became cold. It's like she's afraid to be anything else." Sakura sighed, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "There used to be men – many of them. They would just come one day and leave with her and her mother wouldn't protest, like she usually would. I remember one was Antonio, a very handsome Spaniard. He had cornflake blond hair and eyes the colour of open ocean. He used to show up at the doorstep and then would disappear with my mistress, sometimes for days at a time. Tomoyo never told me what happened when they were gone, but she'd be so very quiet and pale when they came back.
I never knew what happened of him -- or the others. They just came one day and left, never to be heard of. And I never questioned it. There are certain things you don't ask about, and this was one of them. Besides, I was petrified of her mother."
Eriol felt something resembling apprehension knotting in his stomach, and try as he might, the dread refused to leave. What Sakura told him was beginning to paint a dark, arcane tapestry, one that was tainted with secrets. He began to have an idea of why Tomoyo was so reserved, though that was no more than a nagging sensation at the back of his head. His brows furrowing, he let Sakura continue.
"And then she'd also stay in her room and just look out the window. I didn't know what to do those times; she wouldn't even look at me, it's like she was asleep," Sakura frowned deeply, biting her lip in thought. "Then not to long ago, Mistress Sonomi let the two of us go to Carnival – it was our first time. It's the only time Tomoyo leaves the mansion, but I can still feel that – that something around her, like she's not fully awake, empty."
Sakura let her words die, carried along with the breeze. Eriol looked at her profile, though he wasn't actually seeing her. No, his mind was somewhere else, wandering, battling with questions and riddles he couldn't understand.
"That's quite a tale you've told me," he said after a long while, not wanting to let go of the moment just yet.
"Yes," she whispered in return."That's why you must help her!"
Almost automatically, his brows rose, his forehead crinkling with fine lines. "Why did you choose me?"
She looked down at her feet, shuffling them almost uncomfortably. "Because I just... just... I don't know... But looking at you now, telling you all those things and from what I've heard from your friend – " here she blushed like a schoolgirl, which, in Eriol's opinion, made her look very endearing "– you're special. I can't quite say how though. Besides, ever since Tomoyo first saw you – was it three? Four days ago? – something's happening to her. She tries not to show it, but I can tell anyway."
Eriol's eyes bugged out, but he resisted the urge to sputter. He'd caught her eye that long ago? She was thinking of him? Despite himself, a warm sensation spread over inside him, and he couldn't help but feel an odd boost to his ego.
"She talks about me?" He asked, not really caring that he sounded like a kid wanting that rainbow lollipop from the store a block away.
Sakura nodded, a small smile playing over her lips. "Not technically, more like accidental sayings. Things she murmurs to herself when she thinks she's alone."
"Things like what?" 'Why can't keep the giddiness out of my voice? I used to be so composed,' he thought with a small frown.
The girl broke into a full smile. 'I knew it,' she opined, 'I knew he was different from the rest. He cares.' "Oh, just little things," she answered with a shrug. "She's melting because of you, and that's why you – an only you – must save her. She's trapped –"
"Trapped?"
"Yes... no... I can't fully explain it, not now. It would be better if you heard it from her lips, I suppose." She stopped in her gait, seemingly unmindful of the throng of people busily moving about the two of them. She shook her head as if to clarify her mind, clasping her hands beseechingly in front, she looked at him with large emerald eyes. "Please, Sir, if you have even a shred of compassion, answer my plea: help her."
Eriol looked incredulously at the girl, fidgeting slightly under the full force of large, liquid eyes. He had no reason to question her, but neither could he easily believe her. The things she told him, whether she was supposed to or not, made him want to raise his fist into the air as generations of males did before him and protect the beautiful heroin. And there was that ache, too, the one that he came to associate with the raven-haired beauty. But was that bubbly, manly sensation inside his heart reason enough to do – to promise – something so rush? Would Tomoyo be worthy enough in the end? Would the end be worthy enough without Tomoyo?
"All right," he began with a little sigh; whatever happened, would decide the rest of his life, "I don't know what simple promises can achieve, and I don't even know if I'll be able to keep them, but then, for the sake of Tomoyo, let me promise you this: I'll save her. According to what you've told me, her wings are already losing their splendour, so when she falls from grace, I'll be there to catch and rescue her."
Sakura nodded approvingly, her smile seemingly dulling the bright rays of the sun as they touched the crystalline water. She fell into step with him, smiling all the while. The two of them walked along the peer and eventually had to separate because the evening was drawing closer and costumed characters were beginning to wander into the streets.
Sakura smiled up at him for the last time. "Thank you, Sir Eriol, for... everything. I know that you only have my Mistress' happiness in mind."
He nodded with a small smile of his own, the tips of his ears colouring.
"And will you relate to your friend – Si-Sir Syaoran – that I'm sorry for my brother's behaviour yesterday," she finished, glaring at the memory of yesterday's night.
"Brother?" Eriol asked, brow raised inquisitively.
"Yes," she replied with an annoyed huff. "Touya. That meanie, doesn't understand the concept of leaving me alone. Always barging into my business."
"Oh, sure, I'll give your message to him," Eriol said. Inside, however, he was jumping with barely contained glee. The night before, after his own rendezvous with Tomoyo, he'd met up with Syaoran, who was moodier than ever. Upon much pestering, Eriol discovered, much to his sweet (and slightly sadistic) delight, that his friend was agitated over Sakura, who was seen with an older and "handsomer" man. Of course Syaoran, dense as he was, (stupidly) mistook the man for the lady's spouse, who clearly was her brother.
And so, feeling oddly cheerful about this new turn of events concerning his friend and the day's revelations, Eriol bid farewell to Sakura and walked back home to prepare for the rest of the night.
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Hours, or maybe days later, Tomoyo opened her eyes to darkness. It was an overwhelming, nothingness, cold and harsh and strangely welcoming. The air seemed dead, acrid and having a filthy quality to it. There was silence, too; it was so quiet, she could distinguish her every breath, every movement had suddenly gained a threatening ambience. She came to associate this void with the Dark Room.
She signed, hating how much the action stung her throat. The wall against which she sat was cold and slimy, the wetness seeping through her gauzy dress. Her eyes were dry in the corners, itching irritably but she was afraid to rub at them. Every action seemed forbidden in this room. Everything was too foreign and frightening. Whenever she would close her eyes, she would start to see shapes, illusionary and omnipotent, looming around her, their sightless eyes peering at her. And then she would begin to feel their breathy hands upon her, brushing feather-like against her dress, touching her hair and face.
Tomoyo pinched her eyes tightly, her nails digging into the palm of her hands. She didn't eat supper that evening after all; she never did whenever she was sent to the Dark Room. If she had s full stomach, she'd vomit it later anyway, when the darkness became too much, and then she'd have to endure the bile taste in her mouth until the end of her punishment. It wouldn't be a pleasant experience in any case.
She tried calling for help when she was younger, but that was a fruitless attempt. She knew that there wouldn't be anyone behind the door that was hidden somewhere in the darkness. She was completely alone, the monsters in the dark would creep around her and still she was alone, solitary, single entity. She'd bite her lip until it was a large, swollen bruise and pray that Sandman would come to claim her. Sleep would at least save her from the ache.
Tomoyo knew that she didn't do anything wrong, but it was so hard to tell after such a long while. And soon, painful thoughts started flitting into her head and there was a metallic taste in her mouth. She laid her head on her knees, wrapping her arms around her. Softly, she began to sing to herself, the words old and forgotten, the tune awkward on her lips. Like this, she didn't feel the darkness as strongly, like this she didn't feel the dull throbbing inside.
And still the shadows, darker than the nothingness around her, danced in a horrible imitation of a Venetian Waltz. And she could still feel them twisting in her hair and the stinging, tingling sensation in her oddly frozen cheeks.
(tsuzuku...)
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Aa... Next chapter will finally reveal what's hidden behind Tomoyo's mask (or at least that's what I have planned). Another thing, if anybody wants me to either e-mail them about fic updates (which I'll make sure come at a faster rate) or entire chapter, you can request so via review button ^^ Though I'd still appreciate it very much if you sent me your comments, I live on them, after all.
