Disclaimer, ratings, and other legal stuff can be found on Part One.
Reviewers:
Many thanks to all the people who kindly reviewed my work. You all kept me going when I felt like giving up... even though I was supposed to study for my finals. Heh. ^_^;;
I would also like to express my deepest gratitude to the people who reviewed twice: The Great One, KyteAura, Princess Aiko, dynast, Athar_Luna, and Ruby-servantof-eli!
Last, but not least, special thanks go to Athar_Luna for noticing how incredibly long my chapters are compared to standard FF.net fics! I'm glad all the work I put into writing hasn't gone *totally* unnoticed! ^_^
Author's Notes:
By far, this was the most difficult chapter to write because there was so much background I needed to write about. This chapter required countless frustrating nights of sitting and staring blankly at my laptop, so I appreciate your patience, and I would even more greatly appreciate your feedback. Enjoy!
~ Dark Rune
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"Tell me about the angels in heaven.
Tell me about the clouds in the sky.
Tell me about the scent of love and passion.
I want to know the secrets of life.
I want to know."
~ Jupiter Prime, "Secrets of Life"
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-= Part Three: Through the Past =-
"Who the hell are you?" Eriol asked, his voice laced with venom and desperation, as he cradled Kaho's limp form in his arms.
Dying.
She was dying.
He saw the flash of an enigmatic smile, a perfect ivory-white smile that would have been charming under different circumstances, gleaming from beneath the mysterious attacker's hood. Eriol shuddered.
So familiar...
"You know who I am," the evil being responded in a deep voice that Eriol had heard before but could not quite place. "I live to ruin you. I live to destroy all that you hold most dear. I have already done so before. I am your curse."
"Curse?" Eriol echoed, feeling rather stupid to be conversing with his beloved's killer, but he had to know why this was all happening. He didn't want his life or hers to end meaninglessly.
"You still don't remember?" the evil figure chuckled, absently twirling its mage staff in its gloved hand. "You may be half the man you once were, but you cannot help being who you are. I know you. You cannot feign ignorance. You *will* remember."
Eriol tore his gaze from the enemy and looked at Kaho tenderly. His vision was slightly murky, his eyes glazed with tears he refused to shed but ran down his cheeks in mournful streams of rebellion anyway.
He was too late.
He held back a sob, trembling as he gently laid Kaho back on the floor.
"She didn't deserve this," Eriol murmured, slowly rising to his feet while quietly summoning all of his magical strength. It had been a few years since he had used his powers to their full potential, and only half of his original power remained. Nevertheless, Eriol was still a formidable magician. Even as he wiped the tears from his face with a shaking hand, there was only one thought in his mind: murder.
"If you're my problem, you bastard," he spat in a low, unhinged tone, "why did you hurt her? You should have faced me instead of preying on someone innocent, as only a coward would."
The insidious hooded figure crossed its arms, the mage staff still clutched in its left hand, and levitated slightly off the floor, tilting its head as if it were thinking deeply. Eriol could see, by its haughty, demeaning stance, that it was really just humoring him. He could hear the cruel smile behind its answer.
"Foolish, foolish boy. I already told you that I am your curse. I will destroy what you value most. Although Mizuki Kaho was not the *true* one," it grinned maliciously, and Eriol was at once startled and puzzled, "she *was* what your heart valued most for the moment. So even though you would have moved on to better women eventually, I needed to kill her, anyway."
Eriol's eyes widened as the guilt spread through his chest, and his instant burst of anger seared the limits of his patience. "You... you... DON'T you DARE insult Kaho!"
The hooded figure laughed contemptuously, its head thrown back. As it did so, Eriol caught of glimpse of the face hidden in shadow and froze in horrified shock, the color quickly draining from his cheeks.
"I am *your* curse. I feast upon *your* misery. I feed upon *your* soul's gradual destruction so that I may live," the enemy declared coldly, its bone-chilling face covered in the shadows of the hood once again as it unerringly pointed at Eriol with its weapon. "It's entirely *your* fault I'm here. You will watch yourself destroy your own soul, after all."
It took Eriol a second to register everything, and the forgotten memory from a life long past became suddenly fresh in his mind.
"No..."
It smiled disarmingly.
"You can't be... I thought... But I'm not..." Eriol abruptly stopped moving, stopped breathing. In his mind, everything simply stopped. Time froze, as if to preserve the moment in a cold, living photograph--irrefutable proof of his guilt.
And then, after a long moment of tense inaction, he screamed.
The battle began.
And as his world crumbled around him, Hiiragizawa Eriol remembered everything.
The visions shifted, and he was momentarily confused, unsure which scene was a dream, a memory, or a glimpse of dreary reality. Still, his subconscious realized that he needed time to grieve because he would most certainly break down otherwise. Eriol may have been a wise and powerful sorcerer in another lifetime, but in this life, he was just a young, vulnerable man who did not understand very much, in spite of his claims to the contrary.
He was just a boy, really.
The white walls in his mind grew ever higher and stronger.
Once upon a time, there lived a young sorcerer gifted with power beyond anything the world had ever seen. Many were jealous of his power, and the young magician further enraged jealous mages with his arrogance. Being young and foolish, he rather liked to boast about his own importance; lessons in humility were consistently wasted on him.
Even so, the young man, though arrogant, possessed a good heart. He enjoyed helping people with his talents, making children laugh with magic while aiding adults in need. Being a self-righteous individual, he did not appreciate bad people, and from a young age, he aimed to punish criminals with his power.
Above all, however, as a human being cursed with power inevitably craves more, the young man began to want more power. He hungered for the knowledge to make himself stronger, for nothing pleased him more than wielding power to manipulate life itself. Yet a man can only rise so far in a quest for godhood before he must fall, and the powerful young man was already teetering on that precarious edge in his youth.
When he was fifteen, he first noted that his life was missing something, and he became concerned. He did nothing to aggravate that feeling, but the emptiness grew, and continued to grow, until he could not bear the void in his heart any longer. At seventeen, he set out from home, telling his family that he would travel to learn more magic and help people without magic. In truth, he wanted to fill the void within his heart, so he became obsessed with possessing all the knowledge and power the world had to offer, believing that gaining power would be the most fulfilling mission in his life. He believed power would cure his hollowness.
He was young and foolish. Without a good teacher, he was doomed to learn from painful experiences.
So he did.
On his travels, he met older, wiser magicians who taught him their differing arts, unable to deny the young man's immense potential and power. The young man's strength grew fast--but his pride grew exponentially faster.
Two years of wanderings later, he reached the Holy Land. There he stumbled upon a man claiming to have learned magic from the best magicians in Rome. In a crowded street, the self-proclaimed Roman boisterously showed off his magic, to the amazement of ignorant onlookers, but the young man believed that the Roman was too weak and arrogant to be allowed to display his magical idiocies.
He decided to put the Roman in his place. The young man, teeming with energy, easily defeated the braggart in a duel and thus claimed to expose the Roman's deceit. The Roman was enraged, and rightfully so, because his magic, though mostly weak, was real. The young man refused to believe because he deemed himself too powerful to stoop to listen to so insignificant an adversary.
He did not notice that the void in his heart continued to grow.
In the ensuing verbal argument, the Roman cursed the young man, but the young man scoffed at his opponent. How could such a weakling possibly harm him with delirious spells? Without a backward glance, the young man cast a final, debilitating spell and left his opponent in abject ruins.
The youth did not realize that the curse on him was the only truly powerful magic that the Roman had mastered. He did not realize that the curse had taken effect. He did not know that the strength of the curse depended on the strength of its victim. He also did not realize that the curse was now so strong that it could follow him even into his next lives.
He did not realize very much that day, and he would certainly live to regret it.
The years passed, and the young sorcerer forgot the incident. Through experience, he acquired wisdom, and through wisdom, he matured. His power grew tremendously, to the point where he knew everything there was to know. He knew all the secrets of life, and he knew all the secrets of magic.
However, he also knew depression.
His only companion was loneliness.
As a man with power so close to a deity's, he had placed himself upon a pedestal which no human being dared approach, and thus no human being ever grew close to his heart. He allowed no one to come close.
In his adulthood, however, he learned to accept the error of his youthful ways and strove to change himself, realizing that knowledge and power made him increasingly unhappy. He did not want the burden of his power; the consequence of his strength, after all, was a lonely existence. He set a plan in motion, knowing that one day, his daughter would free him, and to fulfill this plan, he created his guardians. Thus, his heart was set to be released from its burden.
Through his guardians, the powerful sorcerer gave himself future freedom from magic as well as present companionship to ease his loneliness. With his guardians, life improved as he discontinued his quest for power, yet he felt that what he had sought in his youth--something to fill the void in his heart--was still missing.
Decades and adventures passed, yet the lonely sorcerer remained unhappy under a facade of cheerfulness, frustrated that he could not discover what was missing from his life. He kept searching, fruitlessly, and the seasons passed, the time trickling away surely and quietly, until his predicted death day.
Then, for no apparent reason, he remembered the Roman's curse.
The Roman's spell had been cast in his youth so long ago, and had seemed so insignificant, that he was startled by the sudden resurfacing memory. Completely baffled, he wondered what his recollection meant, for unexpected memories and visions *always* meant something important.
Throughout that day, even as he was sealing his guardians and sealing his book, he wondered about the Roman curse, attempting to remember the words of the spell. He felt it was crucial that he recall what was said, but, try as he might, he could not form the words.
The hour of his death drew even closer. The sun set, and a soothing darkness settled across the land, across nature, as if the planet itself understood and respected his final moments, and had heard his last request for peace.
And only then, as suddenly as the memory had surfaced, the magician recalled *everything*. It shocked him, nearly overwhelming him with emotion.
The memory made him realize that he had not prepared himself to meet fate. He realized he wasn't in control of his life, and he had not been in control for a long, long time. Finally understanding the significance of his memory, yet powerless to change the course of the future, the sorcerer sighed, deep sadness permeating his soul.
He closed his eyes for the last time.
The centuries-old memory was alarmingly clear.
He could see the Roman's crooked grin. He remembered to frown at the dull glimmer of bloodstained teeth.
"Foolish, foolish boy. You will watch yourself destroy your own soul."
The words had been uttered in Latin, but his centuries of study allowed virtually nothing to escape his understanding. The pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place, and at last he discovered that ultimate secret, the one answer that had always eluded him, staying always desperately out of his reach.
At last he understood that, throughout his life, he had been meaninglessly destroying himself with his self-imposed solitude. Every day, he had wondered what that void in his heart was, why his reflection had always stared back at him with mournful eyes, and only now did he find the answer.
Bitterly, he realized that the curse, a curse that he had so readily dismissed in his youth, had taken effect after all.
"You will watch yourself destroy your own soul."
You will watch yourself destroy the one thing that can make you happy.
*Love*.
You will watch.
*Unrequited*.
You will watch.
*Water mage*.
Watch.
*He never knew*.
He had been an arrogant fool.
He had made himself miserable in this lifetime by pushing away anyone and everyone who would have loved him, including even his guardians. He had trapped his soul in a long, painful existence, surrounded in blind, arrogant walls of self-imposed isolation and cold apathy.
In a future that he could no longer see, Clow Read would inevitably destroy his own soul again.
"You will watch."
The suffering, the tragedy, would be great.
Many years after Clow, Kinomoto Fujitaka indeed watched, his face streaked with tears, as his young wife died in his arms. Her death had been directly his fault, and the anguished husband knew he would never again be completely free of guilt. But because Kinomoto Fujitaka was not fully Clow Read, and did not have access to Clow's memories, his suffering eased. He did not receive the full impact of the curse after he suffered his first loss.
Still many more years later, Hiiragizawa Eriol watched, his face streaked with tears, as his lover died in his arms. He had come too late to save her from a curse he had unleashed upon himself. Yet although Hiiragizawa Eriol was not fully Clow Read, he still possessed Clow's memories.
The curse followed him.
It had only begun, and it would continue to haunt his soul, unless he found a way to break free.
But the curse followed him even as he fled.
For some reason, Tomoyo didn't feel so awkward, lying in bed with an unconscious, naked man whom she considered one of her best friends and who had, apparently, just lost the people he loved most. In light of everything that had happened the night before and everything that had somehow gone off course in her life, her detached non-reaction abruptly made Tomoyo suddenly question her own heart.
Could she be so dead to the world that she no longer even knew how to care?
Tomoyo shuddered at the possibility. She rather liked to think that she was handling things very well. After all, it was her job to handle things smoothly when the world was going to hell.
"Hiiragizawa-kun?" she murmured softly as she tried to extract herself from his grip. His arms had found their way around her waist, even as she lay on top of the blankets and he lay under them. She disentangled her arms from around his shoulders and gently tried to pry his arms off her, to no avail. He merely tightened his hold.
She sighed, glancing at the clock on her bedside dresser only to note that it was already noon. Since lying in bed was most definitely not an effective way to defend oneself from imminent evil, Tomoyo was somewhat relieved they were still alive. She also started to worry because neither of them had eaten anything yet, and they both needed sustenance now, more than ever. With those thoughts, Tomoyo struggled to escape Eriol's embrace once again.
He muttered something unintelligible, but unmistakably whiny, when she finally managed to peel him off her. Trying not to wake him, she gracelessly stumbled out of bed and collapsed in a heap on her floor, next to the pitiful remnants of her heroically attempted Western breakfast.
"I have a headache," she winced, wondering why her head was pounding so badly when she hadn't done anything to deserve it. Ignoring the queasy feeling in her stomach, she proceeded to clean up her room, and then, with that done, she went to her bathroom to freshen up.
After the ten minutes she took to make herself look presentable again and rummage around her apartment for things that Eriol would need when he woke up, she returned to her bedroom to find her visitor sitting up in bed, a slightly sleepy, unreadable expression on his face. Still standing in the doorway, where she could observe him inconspicuously, she had to admit that Eriol looked adorable with his tousled dark hair falling across his forehead, but the bandages made him look more dangerously attractive somehow.
He's as gorgeous as ever, Tomoyo decided, absently musing how Mizuki-sensei could ever resist Eriol, who was currently in a state of irresistible undress. And when Tomoyo at last realized what she was thinking about one of her oldest, dearest friends, she promptly blushed and looked away.
She would hate to openly admit it, but she had always harbored a slight crush on Eriol. It was no coincidence that, throughout their high school and college careers, though Eriol was involved with Mizuki-sensei, Tomoyo and Eriol always went to school functions together.
Everyone reasoned that it would have been inappropriate for Mizuki-sensei to go out publicly with a student, and, according to Eriol and Syaoran, Tomoyo had yet to meet a man they deemed worthy to go out with her. Everyone, apparently, was a loser, and Tomoyo had only perpetuated that misconception because she would rather have fun with Eriol than blunder through a date with someone in whom she had no interest, even if that someone were a prince.
Outwardly, of course, Tomoyo appeared exasperated at Eriol and Syaoran's attempts to guard her (usually by chasing away unfortunate suitors by siccing Akizuki-san on them) until her fabled "perfect" man arrived, but inwardly, she agreed.
She hadn't yet met anyone who could make her *feel*.
Except Eriol.
Only Eriol had captured her interest, and only Eriol had unknowingly stolen into her soul. That much she could admit.
If his heart weren't...
If she hadn't...
If...
*Kaho*.
Tomoyo frantically forced herself to break her train of thought, but not before the darkest, vilest, most horrifying inner workings of her mind made themselves suddenly known. They terrified her, and she wanted to scream for everything to stop. But the thoughts washed over her in a cold, vengeful, towering wave, completely unbidden.
If *Kaho* weren't in my way...
If *Kaho* had never existed...
If he had fallen for *me* first...
If only Kaho...
Kaho.
Well, shouldn't you be rejoicing now? After all, she's as good as dead.
Yes.
Dead.
Finally.
Finally.
Finally.
...
...
I'm glad.
The chilling thoughts shook her.
Feeling suddenly ill, Tomoyo shuddered at the unexpected surge of hatred filling her chest and forcibly wrenched her mind away from that awful direction. She hadn't even *known* she was capable of being so terribly selfish, so uncharacteristically... evil. She hadn't known she had a dark side for she had never truly visited it, and falling so fast and so hard into it now threw her into a panic.
Was she going out of her mind?
Had she finally gone insane?
Why hadn't she seen the edge even as she was falling over it?
NO! she protested mentally, refusing to consider madness because she didn't know *how* to define madness and her world couldn't *afford* to have madness.
No.
She was Daidouji Tomoyo, and kind-hearted Daidouji Tomoyo did NOT wish for people to die, and sweet-tempered Daidouji Tomoyo was NEVER glad that someone was dead, and perfect Daidouji Tomoyo was in love with life.
Of course.
And that explained why she didn't have anyone with whom she could celebrate her life.
Of course.
That was why she was so happy.
Of course.
Of course.
And now was not the time to collapse into tears.
To calm down, Tomoyo focused on the happier events of long ago, trying to lighten her mood with more pleasant memories.
Yes, happy memories would be good. Therapeutic.
Good times. They were all in the past.
She desperately needed something to take her mind off her worries, so she closed her eyes and remembered.
High school.
College.
Those were more innocent times, when life was untouched by the harsh realities imposed by adulthood, when everyone was still together and it felt as if they would all be together forever, basking in close friendships, forming a family bonded by love and not obligated by blood.
Tomoyo remembered.
How they had hung out at the ice cream parlor, where the owner had learned to bring their orders as soon as they sat down.
How they had gone to countless arcades, malls, movies, festivals, plays, and concerts over the years.
How much fun everyone always had.
How she and Eriol were always together, and Mizuki-sensei had not minded or even thought much of it, and they had not minded or thought much about it. No one had thought much of it because the boundaries had been clearly drawn.
Tomoyo had enjoyed all the times she was paired with Eriol, and that had been Tomoyo's secret, her guilty pleasure. It had been her one source of true happiness whenever she felt sad.
It had been wonderful, being with Eriol.
Since all potential boyfriends had fled from the ubiquitous death glares of Tomoyo's best male friends, naturally, Tomoyo and Eriol, consistently left unpaired within their circle of friends, always fell back on each other as partners. Kaho, whom Tomoyo had always known was a gentle soul, had never shown disapproval, and Kaho had even encouraged the partnership in some ways. For Tomoyo, the fantasy had been innocent fun while it lasted, and it had been nice to pretend, sometimes, that the circulating rumors about their non-existent, secret, passionate love affair were true.
Those rumors had admittedly been the source of great fun, and both Tomoyo and Eriol had taken unreasonable delight in staging lovers' spats and engaging in utterly misleading behavior to fuel the flames. Only Sakura and Syaoran had known the truth, and they were only too eager to help Eriol and Tomoyo, who were both popular school leaders and, as such, happily influenced everyone's lives.
In those later teen years, Tomoyo finally understood why Eriol loved to manipulate people in spite of himself. Simply put, manipulation was *fun*, and Tomoyo, who hadn't done it since she had manipulated Sakura and Syaoran into falling in love, had realized she missed the underhanded craft.
Tomoyo grinned, pacified by her happier memories of Eriol and Li-kun joining forces to [rather humorously] preserve Tomoyo's reputation, and the sinful thoughts of Mizuki-sensei's possible fate drifted away, but Tomoyo's face fell when her mind returned to the present once more.
She opened her eyes and remembered.
Everything had happened *years* ago, and life had changed.
Right now, everyone was grown up and had moved on beyond silly antics, and right now, when life was hanging in a delicate balance that she could not even begin to comprehend, Tomoyo's practical side realized that she could not afford silly, girlish nostalgia.
Not when people might be dead.
Mizuki-sensei, her mind helpfully supplied. Mizuki-sensei might be dead.
So grow up, Tomoyo, she told herself sternly, and she turned to Eriol, who now noticed that she had entered the bedroom.
Eriol's stolid expression transformed into a somewhat forced smile when he saw her. She wanted to pity him for all that he had been through, but she guessed, knowing Eriol, that he would not appreciate such an emotion. She waited for him to make the opening, and, as if he had read her mind, he did.
His voice was low, rough, and hesitant. "Daidouji-san, ohayou gozaimasu..."
She nodded in response, a bit wary of how she should act around him. She couldn't be too sure of what to expect, given his strange behavior since his arrival, and she did not want to trample on his obviously raw emotions.
"Actually, it's a bit past noon," she smiled gently at him, watching as he blinked in confusion and absent-mindedly scratched his cheek. Slight stubble was showing on his face, and Tomoyo made a mental note to give him one of her razors when he went to get cleaned up. She remembered how much he disliked facial hair; she did, after all, secretly approve of his clean-shaven look. "We both need to get something to eat before we starve," Tomoyo said, sitting next to him on the bed and trying not to show how nervous she felt. He didn't make a comment, so she asked, hesitantly, "How are you feeling?"
He shrugged, not quite meeting her gaze, and silence descended upon the room.
Lacking anything else to say but absolutely needing to say something, she ignored his disturbing passiveness and persisted with her hospitality, however trivial hospitality seemed at the moment. "So... would you like a drink of water?" she inquired helpfully.
At first she thought he was going to ignore her again, but then he looked up at her with a meaningfully grateful smile. She was taken aback; she had thought that he wouldn't be capable of a real smile at this point. Before she could delve deeper into her thoughts, he politely declined her offer with a shake of his head. "No... thank you."
The room was quiet again for a few moments as Tomoyo looked at Eriol, who was looking away. He was staring blankly at the wall opposite the bed, his face showing subtle melancholy, and after a while, Tomoyo shifted uncomfortably on the bed, not quite sure what she was supposed to do with him now.
He didn't want water. He didn't care to move around. He didn't appear to be in a talkative mood. He didn't even look too emotional. He didn't feel like staring at anything but that seemingly fascinating spot on her wall, and his lack of movement made Tomoyo more than a bit jittery.
She was on unfamiliar ground. How could she deal with someone who couldn't remember what had happened to him? It wasn't as if people lost their memory every day. Tomoyo knew that kind of trauma only conveniently happened in bad soap operas, and even then, they made it a point to stretch the boundaries of believability further.
This was just ridiculous.
"Hiiragizawa-kun..." she began, resolutely not giving up on Eriol until he said more than three syllables, "will you... that is... would you like to talk about anything?"
Still he made no comment. He simply leaned forward, wearily propping his elbows on his bent knees and burying his face in his hands, as if hiding his face from the world might somehow erase reality. For an instant, Tomoyo considered just leaving him alone because his defensive actions certainly suggested his want of solitude, but then he spoke, banishing Tomoyo's insecurities.
He uttered one word, a word that proved Eriol was still alive, that he was thinking on a level above misery. Tomoyo was relieved. "Maybe," he said.
A bit encouraged by his reply, she nodded, "All right then." She paused, eyeing him worriedly before she carefully reworded her earlier question. "So... are you feeling any better?"
Seeing how she genuinely wanted to help, he thought about it briefly and decided he could be honest around Tomoyo because she usually saw through the lies anyway. She was the only one who consistently showed she could. His voice still muffled in his hands, he whispered, "I feel as if I went through hell."
His unembellished honesty made Tomoyo grimace, but she recognized that he was opening up. They were progressing, and Tomoyo was thrilled. "Sorry," she sympathized. "I guess it must be a bad day for both of us... I feel the same way, strangely enough."
He surprised her when he slowly straightened, running his hands through his hair as he turned to look at her seriously. His expressive eyes bored into hers for a few moments, as if he were trying to read her mind, and then he shrugged, turning away again.
"Actually... the headache's probably not your fault. I could be rubbing off on you magically," he admitted, looking apologetic, and she raised an eyebrow in confusion. Remembering that Tomoyo had little magical ability, he elaborated, "Normally I can hold my magic inside me, and I seal and release it at will. But since I feel terrible at the moment, my control is currently inadequate, and I'm leaking magic all over the place. Hence, your headache."
Tomoyo looked at him skeptically, wondering how much of his unusually inelegant, yet effective explanation was caused by a possible concussion. She was about to ask about Eriol's guardians, but then she remembered the distressing repercussions when she mentioned them that morning; Eriol had fought her like an enraged lunatic. With that image haunting her mind, she settled for saying, noncommittally, "Oh... I see..."
She had to figure out how to act around him soon. This was unnerving.
"I regret that my magic is affecting you," Eriol apologized gracefully, managing an air of chivalry and ruefulness at the same time. "I also apologize for my emotional, uh... display... this morning, Daidouji-san. I hope I did nothing I'll regret later..."
Tomoyo wasn't sure what to say next. Should she be honest and just tell him she thought he was crazy? Tell him that he had scared the wits out of her? That he had sobbed in her arms and had fought her savagely to the point of exhaustion?
Although they were good friends, Tomoyo could feel the awkwardness breaching their relationship. The conversation almost felt like one between strangers, and she missed the easy banter that they had shared so many years ago. She finally considered just pointing out the bathroom and fleeing from the strangeness of talking to an unstable Eriol, but she decided against it.
He needed a good friend at the moment, and she was already there.
After another second of deliberation, she made a decision. She would not tiptoe around his feelings. After all, they had known each other for over ten years, and sidestepping his emotions was just stupid in this life-threatening situation. He was a grown man, and he would just have to deal with life and all of its cruel twists, and she would do her best to cheer him up because there was no point in hiding from the truth.
"Don't worry, Hiiragizawa-kun. Of *course* you did something you'll regret later on," she smiled brightly, trying to lighten his mood, and when he managed a feeble, yet genuine, grin in return, she felt unreasonably happy. Her smile softened as she reached a hand out to clasp his. "But seriously... How do you feel? I know we're both confused about what's going on, but maybe it will help to talk for a bit. You know I'm here to listen."
He nodded and said, hints of kindness shining in his eyes and in his voice, "You *are* a sap when it comes to your friends, Daidouji-san."
She blushed and replied unthinkingly, under her breath, "Even more so around you."
He didn't hear her comment. He was marveling at the unexpectedly beautifully red-faced Tomoyo, and he was wondering why he felt so guilty, as if he wasn't supposed to be happy, somehow. He shook the thought.
The moment passed for both of them.
"Hiiragizawa-kun," she said, feeling a bit stronger, and she took his other hand carefully in hers before looking at him directly. Her voice was quiet, but intense nonetheless. "Tell me, Hiiragizawa-kun. For everything I've ever told you and for everything you've done for me, you know you can share anything with me. Just... please... talk to me... what do you need?"
His eyes shimmered with warmth, and she knew he understood the depth of her question. He saw that she was leaving it up to him to decide how far they would go, depending on his answer. She was giving him freedom.
As tempting as the offer of complete honesty was, however, humor was still part of Eriol's personal defenses, and he was tempted to make a smart retort. But then he was surprised to find that he didn't have the heart for it.
He was exhausted.
He felt as if he had taken a beating that would last a lifetime, and he didn't have the energy to fight anything anymore. Eriol smirked. It was strange that although he could hardly remember the cause of his misery, he was pathetically miserable.
"I need time to figure out what's going on," Eriol answered at last, after a moment of stillness, and he pulled away from her discreetly. "I really... just... I don't remember much of what happened before."
He paused, looking perplexed as he directed his gaze towards the ceiling, and Tomoyo was disconcerted to hear him mumble softly to himself, "Is that even possible?"
"Hiiragizawa-kun..."
He shook his head, interrupting her. "It doesn't matter. I can't remember, and there's no point in trying."
Unused to dealing with amnesiacs, Tomoyo's sympathetic side was at a loss, so her rational side smoothly took over. "Hiiragizawa-kun, I don't know what did this, but if it's strong enough to tamper with your memories," she almost shivered, "we absolutely need to clarify everything you can't remember. Fast. But first, do you believe what did this is strong enough to defeat even Sakura-chan and Li-kun?"
"I don't know," he replied, raking a hand through his already mussed hair. "But this... I think this is something intensely personal. Something that our friends wouldn't be able to actually deal with even if they wanted to help." He blinked. "But it doesn't matter anyway. I can't *remember* anything valid. It's not important. Just... just drop it, all right?"
Eriol's demeanor, although still kind, became noticeably defensive. Sensing that he no longer wished to discuss the matter, Tomoyo tactfully changed the subject to give him time to recover his thoughts. "Do you feel strong enough to walk? Your wounds *are* healing quickly."
He looked impressed that she was so observant, momentarily forgetting that, as an artist, she *had* to be observant. "Actually, I'm mostly okay. You're right about my healing abilities. That's one of advanced magic's benefits."
"Good," Tomoyo said, looking slightly more cheerful as she patted his shoulder in a friendly manner. "We won't be completely defenseless in an attack, then. Arigatou. You'd make a lovely human shield, Hiiragizawa-kun."
Eriol looked fairly amused, his expression matching the twinkle in her eye, but he instantly saw the low undercurrent of real fear in her gaze. He glanced around the bedroom, his eyes clouding as he magically scanned the surrounding environment, and then he turned back to her with a reassuring smile. "You can relax, Daidouji-san. I don't sense a threat nearby, and I have a good feeling that nothing will be attacking any time soon. Please don't worry so much."
Tomoyo was surprised. After Eriol's strange behavior since he showed up at her doorstep, she wasn't sure how to respond to his seemingly levelheaded assessment... but she believed him. "I'm glad you're better anyway. Even so, neither of us is in any condition to fight anything. You may heal quickly, Hiiragizawa-kun, but you're definitely not a superhero."
Feeling relieved that they were talking about "safe" topics, he happily took her bait.
"I'll have you know that I've saved the world plenty of times," Eriol declared, "and I think I'm actually ready to battle the bad guys." He huffed in the most arrogant manner possible and promptly winced as he aggravated one of his injuries. "Just... give me a minute." He coughed. "Give me a minute, and I promise I'll valiantly risk my life to save the world once more from certain mortal peril."
He coughed dramatically again.
Tomoyo rolled her eyes. "I guess your brain damage is more extensive than I thought."
Eriol looked aptly miffed, and Tomoyo smiled. If there was one thing about Eriol that she could count on, it was his undying air of superiority and his ability to make fun of himself; that combination was probably why he had been so popular in school. He was a dependable, good-humored guy who *knew* he was good but never actually flaunted it.
"You need to get cleaned up," she told him, ignoring his pitiful injured act and shoving him (gently) back into the pillows, "and I'll get us some lunch. I couldn't call Hong Kong when I phoned work this morning, but I'm sure we should be able to reach Sakura-chan and Li-kun by now. At least we can try as soon as you're ready to figure out what's going on."
"Of course," he agreed, but his cheerfulness was fading. "As soon as I'm ready... of course."
She hesitated, her eyes meeting his and holding steady as the smile that had been playing on his face slowly vanished. In a gentle voice, she added, "We can also try calling England later."
His light mood now completely extinguished, he looked away, scowling, because for some reason he could not quite grasp, thoughts of England made his blood boil. It was confusing, to say the least, to feel such a strong emotion about something he could not recall.
Tomoyo almost wished she hadn't brought up the subject of England again, but then she recalled her decision to adhere to the truth. If the truth hurt, so be it.
She watched him, trying to understand his mood. He had always been a difficult person to read, being almost as good at hiding emotions as she. Since he could hardly understand himself at the moment, however, the only emotion that Eriol exuded was confusion. Deciding that it was now best to leave him alone, Tomoyo stood and turned toward the door, only to be stopped by Eriol clearing his throat. She turned back and met his gaze again.
In that moment, he shifted from a somber mood into a light-hearted one so quickly that she became worried about the distinct *wrongness* in his mood swings. Now that she really thought hard about it, there *was* something off about Eriol, and that discomforting insight instantly put Tomoyo on her guard.
"Daidouji-san, it may be too much to hope, but do you have men's clothes for me to wear?" Eriol inquired, his face faintly displaying dread. Somewhat relieved, Tomoyo couldn't help but grin as he added, "I don't think I could fit into your clothes, nor do I even want to try. No offense to your fashion sense, Daidouji-san, but trust me. Women's clothes are *really* not suited to my physique..."
One slim eyebrow shot up as Tomoyo regarded him thoughtfully, the grin spreading across her face, and Eriol suddenly realized that he had unwittingly given her valuable information.
Tomoyo's intelligence must never be underestimated. This he had learned long ago, but he was currently being a delirious, oblivious idiot.
She chuckled. "Hiiragizawa-kun, we'll discuss your... exploits... into women's fashion later." He bit his lip, feeling like shouting expletives at himself as she continued. "But don't forget--I'm a fashion designer. I keep outfits I've designed and made myself."
"Ah," Eriol scratched the back of his head ruefully. He really should have known. "I suppose there are clothes and everything else I need in your bathroom."
"That's right. New razors are in the first drawer on the left in the bathroom if you need to shave."
"Arigatou gozaimasu, Daidouji-san," Eriol bowed his head, and she nodded politely back to him. "You are truly a great friend."
Smiling, but not knowing how else to answer, she left. Tomoyo closed the door and leaned wearily back against it, and, as she tilted her head up to look at the ceiling, the humorous mental image of Eriol wearing something pink and lacy faded from her thoughts. She suddenly felt severely disappointed.
Eriol was right.
She was always such a great friend, wasn't she?
Tomoyo bit her lip, discontent bristling inside her.
She would go to great lengths to help her friends. She would risk her life for them. She loved them as she did family, because that was how her family had taught her to live. Everyone who knew Daidouji Tomoyo was glad to have her as a friend because she was the sympathetic angel, the emotional anchor, the comforting shoulder, the source of wisdom, the dependable leader, or the one people could fall back on when their plans didn't pan out.
She was the one he always fell back on.
Second choice.
But she was never anything more.
Suddenly, Eriol's well-intentioned compliment stung, as if it were the greatest insult in the world.
As he crawled out of the bed, his limbs suffering various degrees of pain, Eriol wondered why he felt so incredibly disappointed in himself.
"M'shim'shi," Kinomoto Touya answered the frantically ringing phone with half a bite of his sushi lunch still in his mouth. The Tokyo University professor had been lounging so contentedly in his office chair that he was startled when his ear was attacked by a woman's frantically yelling voice.
"Onii-chan! PleasegetYukito-sanandgotoTomoyo-chan'splacebecausesheneedssomeonewithmagictoprotecther—"
Touya nearly choked. "Kaijuu?"
"HOEEEE! I am NOT a kaijuu! I'm a grown, pregnant woman, so don't you dare mess with me!"
"Huh," the older Kinomoto smiled faintly at his sister's ever-present childishness, although he sensed something wrong. She was giving off so much power that even *he* could feel it from where he sat even though his own powers had been greatly diminished long ago.
"Don't start mocking me!" she warned, and then she took a deep breath. "You have to get to Tomoyo-chan's apartment right away. She needs you and Yue-san to protect her. Syaoran and I sensed some evil magic coming after her last night, and we've been trying to contact Japan ever since. To make matters worse, something terrible happened in England, and we can't even contact Eriol-kun!"
The smile immediately left Touya's face and was replaced by his more characteristic scowl. "Na-nani? What's going on? What happened in England?"
"Hoeeeee! I'll explain later!" Sakura said too quickly, and it occurred to Touya that she was avoiding a discussion about England. Sakura didn't pause to breathe. "Right now, I *COMMAND* you to go to Tomoyo-chan's apartment! She can't be left by herself, and we don't know what form this evil is going to take, so please be careful! Syaoran and I will be there tomorrow! Hurry!"
"All right, Kaijuu. All right," Touya reassured her, but in the back of his mind, he realized he was also trying to reassure himself. "I can tell this is urgent. Consider the request done."
"'Nii-chan, you're the best!"
His sister's almost forced, tense-sounding praise only made the cold feeling in the pit of Touya's stomach grow. In the next second, the door to Touya's office opened, and Tsukishiro Yukito, another professor at the university, strode in, having abandoned his normally inextricable afternoon meal. Yukito had transformed into a patiently alert and waiting Yue before Touya had even hung up the phone.
As she was setting the table for lunch, Tomoyo thought she heard the sound of breaking glass. She would have readily dismissed it as a trick of her overworked mind if she hadn't heard the sound again, and again, and again. Surprised and now worried, she stared at the closed door to her bedroom, wondering if she should barge in to save Eriol from another bout of delirium.
She never had to make that decision.
A few seconds after she heard the sounds and turned toward the door, Eriol opened it.
He looked really good for an injured man, Tomoyo admitted, as Eriol hesitantly stepped out into the living room, fresh from the shower. She fought the practical urge to ask him to model her new line of men's clothes, seeing that the outfit looked unbelievably stylish on him. In gray jeans held up by a thick, black, leather belt, and a royal blue, long-sleeved silk shirt with navy trim, Eriol was beautiful to behold.
A closer inspection, however, led Tomoyo to notice something else: the pale expression on his face and his dark, frighteningly unseeing eyes. Suddenly, she didn't care what he was wearing.
He looked as if he had seen a ghost.
Dazed, he raised his trembling right hand to shoulder level, palm up, fingers slightly curled, and stared at it dumbly, as if he were beholding his hand for the first time.
Finally Tomoyo saw it.
"You're *bleeding*!" she cried, running to him. She reached his side in a second, and gently she took his injured hand in hers, turning it over carefully to see how much damage he had done.
"I... Sumimasen. I broke it. Your mirror," his deep voice came in soft, halting gasps, as if he had been pushing himself so hard for so long that he had forgotten how to inhale. "I... I don't know why. I just got so angry. I don't know what came over me. I must have been delirious. Insane. I... I don't understand. Sumimasen."
Something nagged at the back of Tomoyo's consciousness.
"Sumimasen..."
*Something was still off about Eriol*.
"Sumimasen," he repeated.
Something not quite right...
"Sumimasen."
Her eyes met his.
And in that moment, looking up into those deep, sorrowful blue orbs, with her hands cradling his, Tomoyo realized that, in spite of his desperately disjointed speech and his hopelessly lost expression, Hiiragizawa Eriol was quite perfectly *sane*.
And he had been quite perfectly *sane* when he punched her mirror to shards only moments ago.
*That* was what had been bothering her. Eriol was a perfectly sane man trying to act insane, and she knew this with a sudden, unfailing certainty.
She knew because she could see the way his knuckles were cut from the first punch, a punch that he had thrown with deadly precision and not in a fit of wild delirium. She knew he was lying because she could also see the way his palms were so cleanly cut, as if he had deliberately picked up the broken shards of glass and, gripping them tightly in his shivering hand, proceeded to viciously and methodically hack away at the rest of the mirror, as if he had glimpsed something that he did not wish to see.
She saw that his eyes glimmered with the honesty and drama she had seen in countless performances before--because this was nothing more than a performance. She had always seen through his lies, no matter how convincing an actor he was, and she could practically feel the guilt and the deceit and the desperation flowing from him, as if his emotions were leaking into her.
She didn't let on that she knew, and she sensed his relief that she wasn't pressing him for answers. If he wanted to pretend that this was all his madness, then so be it. She would find out when he was ready to share. She would make sure of it.
"It's okay. Tell me about it later. Right now, we need to take care of your hand," Tomoyo said, holding back the questions racing through her mind.
Even though her suspicions were finally beginning to be aroused, and even though her unconditional trust was bending at last, Tomoyo took care of his hand and had it cleaned and bandaged neatly within ten minutes. With that done, Tomoyo quietly led Eriol to the dining room for lunch, delivered from a nearby Chinese restaurant earlier.
They ate in silence, and in an unspoken mutual agreement, the silence remained unbroken as they eyed each other fleetingly throughout the meal. Eriol kept his head bowed for the most part to avoid her gaze, hiding his eyes beneath his dark hair, signaling that he did not want to be questioned.
Please back off, his posture seemed to say. Give me time to think. Give me time to breathe.
So she complied. They both knew they needed time to think and straighten things out, and this was their opportunity. However, Tomoyo became more concerned when she noticed that Eriol's eyes were filled with a dark remorse that hadn't been there when he had woken up. She was tempted to ask if he remembered something, but she decided to wait until after lunch.
They needed peace, and they needed to replenish their energy. Her questions could wait.
Tomoyo and Eriol made short work of the food, and together they quickly washed and put away her dishes almost without a word to each other. Tomoyo was surprised that they worked so well together, their actions bordering on mind reading in spite of the recent, understandably traumatizing events.
When they at last sat down in her living room, Tomoyo in the love seat and Eriol in the couch adjacent to it, Tomoyo felt the tension was so thick that she could drown in it. She wasted no more time.
"Hiiragizawa-kun, just... just tell me what you know. Please."
Her voice was disconcertingly loud in the flourishing silence. He blinked, as if surprised by her straightforwardness, and he hesitated before giving a response. "I told you... I don't remember how I got here or why I was beaten up. I don't even know why I came *here,* to Tokyo of all places, when I should have been..." His breath caught, and his voice lowered to an angry, nearly inaudible whisper. "Tokyo means *nothing* to me... Nothing."
Tomoyo heard the bitterness in his last comment, and she wondered if she should be offended. "I think you *do* know something," Tomoyo insisted, reasonably irritated that he was lying to her. If Eriol didn't want to talk, he knew he could just say so, but he was *lying*, and she did not appreciate it. Did he really distrust her to the point where he couldn't even ask for more time to himself? She wouldn't be offended. She would understand. Really, she would. But the more he tried to hide, the more she wanted to know.
Eriol's expression darkened.
"Hiiragizawa-kun," her voice grew gentle, "you know I care about you. You know I want to help. Please let me." She reached out across the couch to grasp his hand, but he quickly pulled away. Deeply insulted, she tried to pretend his reaction didn't hurt her, focusing instead on his needs. "I can't help you if I don't know what you need help for. You have to tell me something. I don't even know what you did to your hand! At least tell me that."
A pained look crossed his features, and he looked away, staring out the picture windows in her living room and into the clouded Tokyo skies beyond.
It took the last of Tomoyo's patience not to scream. She settled for saying coldly, "You're not being fair."
He didn't even acknowledge that she had spoken. He didn't even *blink*.
And that was the last straw. When he didn't respond, she was angered, her patience shattered. Finally throwing all caution and politeness out the window, she growled, "Hiiragizawa Eriol, I know you better than this. Tell me what's going on! We can't afford to just sit around waiting to be attacked, so stop being such an *ass*."
His eyes snapped to hers, and he asked, effectively stunned, "What?"
"You're being a self-absorbed, ungrateful brat, and your selfishness, for all I know, could cost the people around you their lives," she declared. Encouraged by his surprised expression, she added, her voice rising steadily, "I don't think you lied to me when you woke up this morning or when you woke up this afternoon, but I know you *lied* when you came out of the bathroom. You purposefully smashed my mirror, and I think it's *perfectly* reasonable for me to know why in the world you did it!"
He sat staring at her, thunderstruck. She felt a bit sorry for her outburst, so she continued, in a softer, less accusing, almost pleading voice, "I consider you one of my best friends in the world, Hiiragizawa-kun. You know that. It's one thing to lie to me when you're just teasing," she paused, trying to convey both hurt and understanding, "but this is different. This is serious. This is life-threatening. This is *your* mental health. And I think I have a right to know what you know because I believe the evil coming after me has something to do with you."
Perhaps his fury had been there all along, biding its time underneath his cheerful facade, until she had at last provoked it with her questions, but Tomoyo had never before seen Eriol's face twist into so much anger in so little time. She was frightened by his sudden show of animosity.
He stood and turned, so that his back was to her, and he snarled, "How the *hell* am I supposed to know if it's got anything to do with you? And who do you think *you* are? You don't even have magic, so why the hell would anything ever revolve around *you*? What gives you the right to act all high and mighty and ask me questions?"
Eriol's brutal response shocked Tomoyo, and her eyes widened in surprise. She was speechless.
"I think this has absolutely NOTHING to do with you, Daidouji-san, and I'm just here because of a stupid freak accident," Eriol's rant had escalated so that he was nearly yelling now, his face white with anger. Tomoyo recognized that he was venting his frustrations on her, and although his venting was taking its toll on her ego, she was relieved that he was opening up promisingly.
"This will sound like a slap in the face to you," he murmured, his voice intense but more controlled, "but if you want my honesty, then prepare to be insulted."
He paused, his shoulders drooping almost imperceptibly, and he turned back to face her, his intense blue eyes radiating sadness, regret, and cold vengeance. "We're not as close as we used to be, Daidouji-san. You can't pretend I'm one of your best friends when I've been living on the other side of the world, and I hear from you every three months!"
Her expression was quiet and unflinching, so he pressed on. "You're distant from everyone, Daidouji-san, and you're just..." he hesitated again, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Daidouji-san, I... I'm sorry."
He looked pained, and Tomoyo was torn between fleeing and shaking more of the truth out of him. She knew venting his frustrations was good for Eriol. He needed to vent if he wanted some peace of mind, and Tomoyo was willing to listen, however painful it might be for both of them. But was she even strong enough to hear what he had to say?
This wasn't what she had wanted or expected to hear.
"Daidouji-san," Eriol sounded as if he had given up, but then he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He released everything in a rush that took Tomoyo by surprise. "Daidouji-san, please understand that you're my friend, but you're just NOT a significant part of my life. You may have been a good friend before, but times change." He sounded desperate. "Don't you see? Don't you understand why I'm so confused and convinced that you shouldn't get involved in this?"
It was as if he were begging her to understand, but now she suddenly felt like strangling him. "Hiiragizawa," she wanted to grimace at her grating lack of familiarity with his name, "other than pointing out the fact that you *don't* give a damn about me, which, by the way, I'm already used to, what's your point exactly?"
He clenched his fists again, and he shook his head, averting his gaze. "I don't mean to insult you. Believe me. This is *not* about you. It has *nothing* to do with you. It's about where everyone else is, how people inevitably drift apart." He looked back at her meaningfully. "It's about the people who mean the world to me."
*And you, Daidouji-san, are not one of them.*
Tomoyo felt a dull ache in her chest when she heard his unspoken words, and she felt a part of herself fade. She felt betrayed. Why was he being so cruel? Why was he saying this to a woman who had saved his life only the night before?
Tomoyo usually saw the good in bad things, and when she couldn't find the good, she found justifications. In Eriol's case, she supposed he really was too broken to care. Tomoyo could understand that, and she decided that she could tolerate him, even if he hurt her, because he was suffering already.
Oblivious to everything but his own thoughts, Eriol said, his voice breaking at last, "The point is, I don't know *why* I'm here, Daidouji-san, standing here, yelling at you. Don't you see? By all rights, I should be... I should be..." he was on the verge of crying, and he rubbed his eyes to stop the tears from forming. But he exploded, his fist slamming into the wall next to him with a sharp crack that made Tomoyo wince. "Damn it, Daidouji-san! I should be DEAD! Hell, I *want* to die! Then at least I could be with *her*! Why couldn't you have just left me to DIE when you-"
Something snapped inside Tomoyo, and Eriol didn't finish his suggestion because she slapped him.
Her eyes blazing fire, her lips set in an angry line, her bearing powerful and demanding, Daidouji Tomoyo looked every inch an angry goddess. Eriol was shocked, and he suddenly had little trouble remembering why Tomoyo made such a great leader, having both profound compassion and strength of character. He was floored.
"I can't believe you would dare say that," Tomoyo said, her voice low, but exuding extreme fury. "I can't believe you'd be so unbelievably *stupid*. You can insult me all you want, because I understand you've been through a lot. You already have so much to deal with, and I can easily handle being an emotional punching bag. But to say that you want to... that you want to..." She was breathing hard, and she glared at him, unable to even put the last thought to words. "It's unthinkable!"
Eriol blinked, looking surprised and confused. "I didn't... I didn't mean..."
Tomoyo didn't take note of his confusion, having too much trouble handling her own. "And I thought so highly of you, Hiiragizawa-kun," she whispered acridly. "Didn't you know? I admired your strength."
With that, Tomoyo turned her back to him and stalked off to her bedroom, shutting the door, unaware that tears were rolling down her cheeks.
Because for all of her unconditional disapproval of suicide, Tomoyo just really hadn't been able to handle being an emotional punching bag very well.
Her usually immaculate private bathroom was a mess. It would definitely be a pain to clean up.
"That... that *jerk*," Tomoyo muttered, seething because of what had just happened and because of the mess she would now have to fix. Even through her indignant rage, however, Tomoyo managed to coherently decide to keep Eriol away from her room and confine him in one of her spare bedrooms, where he could wreak as much havoc as he wished in his own bathroom. She still didn't understand what had driven him to such suicidal fury, and, as coldly ungrateful as he had been to her only a minute before, Tomoyo wondered if she still wanted to understand. He had hurt her, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to be around him anymore.
But maybe...
Maybe...
It occurred to her that the problem wasn't Eriol at all.
Maybe she was just afraid.
Maybe she was afraid of what she might find if she looked hard enough. Maybe she was afraid of the horrors that she might see. She was afraid to get close... yet the barriers around her heart yearned to be broken.
She and Eriol really used to get along so well.
Tomoyo sighed, sinking to her knees on the floor just outside the bathroom. At last noticing the tears running down her cheeks, she wiped them off with the sleeve of her shirt, all the while staring at the bloody shards of broken glass on the bathroom floor.
What had possessed him to do this?
What could possess him to do this?
Tomoyo could think of only one thing that could rile Eriol this much, but if he couldn't remember what had happened, then why did he feel so much anger and pain and sadness all at once? His emotions had been so powerful that he had lost the icy control that he had never, in his lifetime, lost.
The flash of light from a piece of the broken mirror caught Tomoyo's eye and interrupted her thoughts. Mesmerized by the eerily jumbled images reflected back to her from a hundred different pieces of the mirror, Tomoyo reached out and picked up a jagged, triangular shard large enough to spread across the palm of her hand. Eriol's blood trailed along the sharp edge and trickled down the mirror side, reminding her of his unprovoked act of violence. It had been so unlike the cheerfully calm, mysterious, and wicked trickster she knew.
Tomoyo frowned.
Once again, the feeling that something was very wrong, something was just slightly *off*, overwhelmed her without warning. Her vision dimmed. A sharp pain lanced through her right hand, as if she had stabbed herself, even though she had not actually cut into her flesh with the blade. Tomoyo could not hold back her cry of surprise.
And then, that something nagging her in the back of her mind fell into place. Indeed, something was off; Eriol's blood was still warm on mirror, sticking to her hands.
Fresh blood.
The blood should have dried by now.
Why wasn't it dry?
Was Eriol not human?
It should have dried...
In the next instant, firm hands roughly grasped Tomoyo's shoulders, slick fingers gripping so mercilessly that they bit into her skin through her clothes, and pulled her up with tremendous strength. Disoriented, with pain shooting through her mind and her shoulders and her hand, Tomoyo didn't realize that she was hurtling through the air until she was well on her way down, when her spine slammed forcefully into her bedpost and her head collided with the unyielding floor.
She thought she saw stars, but the dull ringing in her ears seemed incongruous with the swirling flash of colors before her eyes and the pain shooting through her back. Straining to see what was going on, Tomoyo tried to move, fighting the growing sensation of drowning, and she quickly discovered that she was trapped.
Panic set in.
Something had pinned her arms against her sides as she lay on her back on the cold floor. Something was keeping her from escaping.
And when her vision cleared, Tomoyo was horrified. Nimble fingers--beautiful fingers, she had thought, when they danced so lovingly with the keys of a piano--closed around her neck, trying to squeeze the life out of her lungs. She hadn't considered that these long, elegant fingers of a talented artist might also belong to a murderer. She hadn't believed that his beauty was capable of heinous acts, after all.
Tomoyo's unfocused, unraveling mind recalled a quote about a rose and its thorns before it returned to the fact that this man was crushing her throat.
He was trying to kill her.
And he was winning.
She tried to utter his name, to beg him to see reason, but she was helpless as her flailing limbs were effectively restrained and her heart beat wildly for peace and her lungs screamed violently for air that would not come.
Tomoyo was exhausted. Her vision dimmed even further, and she could no longer clearly see her attacker's handsome face, now distorted into an angry snarl. She couldn't even see the intensity in his blue eyes anymore, but she felt strangely gratified that she could at least see the familiar glint of light reflecting from his glasses.
This monster attacking her was only the shadow of the beautiful man she had known once. Somehow, this observation was reassuring to Tomoyo. At least, her dying mind reasoned, this man murdering her wasn't the Eriol she knew. The Eriol she loved. The Eriol who was once her friend.
Tomoyo's last thoughts were very strange, very random, very confused, but one fleeting, unexpected thought amidst the chaos struck a strong chord in her heart and her mind.
*This might have been more tragic had they been in love.*
Darkness claimed her.
-= End Part Three =-
Chapter Started: December 17, 2002
Chapter Finished: January 21, 2003
Chapter Revised: August 15, 2003
End Notes:
OOC? Definitely! But please understand there's a reason for characters being out of character. I mean, although none of us can say how the CCS kids would act as adults, we know their personality types. If what happened in the final scenes contradicts these established personalities, there's a reason. ^_^
Also, don't worry if the WAFF/romance factor is virtually non-existent at the moment. In the next chapters, this fic *will* focus more on drama and romance (E/T all the way!) because I'm a sucker for romance. This is just the beginning. o_O
~~ Japanese Translations ~~
Kami-sama – God
arigatou gozaimasu – thank you (polite)
hoe (pronounced HO-EH) – Sakura's general expression which has no meaning and may be used in a variety of occasions
(i.e. "Sakura?"
"Hoe?"
"I'm pregnant."
"Hoe!?"
"With Tomoyo's love child."
"HOEEE!?!?"
"And Li-kun is pregnant, too. Congratulations!"
"HOEEEEE!!!")
m'shim'shi or moshi moshi – hello (used only on the phone)
Onii-chan – older brother (informal)
'Nii-chan – older brother, shortened version (informal)
kaijuu – monster, Touya's affectionate nickname for his little sister
nani – what
sumimasen – I'm sorry—usually involving a debt that one cannot repay
Please review and direct all questions, comments, and criticisms to rune_dreaming@yahoo.com. Thank you!
Copyright (C) 2002-2003 by Dark Rune. All rights reserved.
Reviewers:
Many thanks to all the people who kindly reviewed my work. You all kept me going when I felt like giving up... even though I was supposed to study for my finals. Heh. ^_^;;
I would also like to express my deepest gratitude to the people who reviewed twice: The Great One, KyteAura, Princess Aiko, dynast, Athar_Luna, and Ruby-servantof-eli!
Last, but not least, special thanks go to Athar_Luna for noticing how incredibly long my chapters are compared to standard FF.net fics! I'm glad all the work I put into writing hasn't gone *totally* unnoticed! ^_^
Author's Notes:
By far, this was the most difficult chapter to write because there was so much background I needed to write about. This chapter required countless frustrating nights of sitting and staring blankly at my laptop, so I appreciate your patience, and I would even more greatly appreciate your feedback. Enjoy!
~ Dark Rune
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"Tell me about the angels in heaven.
Tell me about the clouds in the sky.
Tell me about the scent of love and passion.
I want to know the secrets of life.
I want to know."
~ Jupiter Prime, "Secrets of Life"
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-= Part Three: Through the Past =-
"Who the hell are you?" Eriol asked, his voice laced with venom and desperation, as he cradled Kaho's limp form in his arms.
Dying.
She was dying.
He saw the flash of an enigmatic smile, a perfect ivory-white smile that would have been charming under different circumstances, gleaming from beneath the mysterious attacker's hood. Eriol shuddered.
So familiar...
"You know who I am," the evil being responded in a deep voice that Eriol had heard before but could not quite place. "I live to ruin you. I live to destroy all that you hold most dear. I have already done so before. I am your curse."
"Curse?" Eriol echoed, feeling rather stupid to be conversing with his beloved's killer, but he had to know why this was all happening. He didn't want his life or hers to end meaninglessly.
"You still don't remember?" the evil figure chuckled, absently twirling its mage staff in its gloved hand. "You may be half the man you once were, but you cannot help being who you are. I know you. You cannot feign ignorance. You *will* remember."
Eriol tore his gaze from the enemy and looked at Kaho tenderly. His vision was slightly murky, his eyes glazed with tears he refused to shed but ran down his cheeks in mournful streams of rebellion anyway.
He was too late.
He held back a sob, trembling as he gently laid Kaho back on the floor.
"She didn't deserve this," Eriol murmured, slowly rising to his feet while quietly summoning all of his magical strength. It had been a few years since he had used his powers to their full potential, and only half of his original power remained. Nevertheless, Eriol was still a formidable magician. Even as he wiped the tears from his face with a shaking hand, there was only one thought in his mind: murder.
"If you're my problem, you bastard," he spat in a low, unhinged tone, "why did you hurt her? You should have faced me instead of preying on someone innocent, as only a coward would."
The insidious hooded figure crossed its arms, the mage staff still clutched in its left hand, and levitated slightly off the floor, tilting its head as if it were thinking deeply. Eriol could see, by its haughty, demeaning stance, that it was really just humoring him. He could hear the cruel smile behind its answer.
"Foolish, foolish boy. I already told you that I am your curse. I will destroy what you value most. Although Mizuki Kaho was not the *true* one," it grinned maliciously, and Eriol was at once startled and puzzled, "she *was* what your heart valued most for the moment. So even though you would have moved on to better women eventually, I needed to kill her, anyway."
Eriol's eyes widened as the guilt spread through his chest, and his instant burst of anger seared the limits of his patience. "You... you... DON'T you DARE insult Kaho!"
The hooded figure laughed contemptuously, its head thrown back. As it did so, Eriol caught of glimpse of the face hidden in shadow and froze in horrified shock, the color quickly draining from his cheeks.
"I am *your* curse. I feast upon *your* misery. I feed upon *your* soul's gradual destruction so that I may live," the enemy declared coldly, its bone-chilling face covered in the shadows of the hood once again as it unerringly pointed at Eriol with its weapon. "It's entirely *your* fault I'm here. You will watch yourself destroy your own soul, after all."
It took Eriol a second to register everything, and the forgotten memory from a life long past became suddenly fresh in his mind.
"No..."
It smiled disarmingly.
"You can't be... I thought... But I'm not..." Eriol abruptly stopped moving, stopped breathing. In his mind, everything simply stopped. Time froze, as if to preserve the moment in a cold, living photograph--irrefutable proof of his guilt.
And then, after a long moment of tense inaction, he screamed.
The battle began.
And as his world crumbled around him, Hiiragizawa Eriol remembered everything.
The visions shifted, and he was momentarily confused, unsure which scene was a dream, a memory, or a glimpse of dreary reality. Still, his subconscious realized that he needed time to grieve because he would most certainly break down otherwise. Eriol may have been a wise and powerful sorcerer in another lifetime, but in this life, he was just a young, vulnerable man who did not understand very much, in spite of his claims to the contrary.
He was just a boy, really.
The white walls in his mind grew ever higher and stronger.
Once upon a time, there lived a young sorcerer gifted with power beyond anything the world had ever seen. Many were jealous of his power, and the young magician further enraged jealous mages with his arrogance. Being young and foolish, he rather liked to boast about his own importance; lessons in humility were consistently wasted on him.
Even so, the young man, though arrogant, possessed a good heart. He enjoyed helping people with his talents, making children laugh with magic while aiding adults in need. Being a self-righteous individual, he did not appreciate bad people, and from a young age, he aimed to punish criminals with his power.
Above all, however, as a human being cursed with power inevitably craves more, the young man began to want more power. He hungered for the knowledge to make himself stronger, for nothing pleased him more than wielding power to manipulate life itself. Yet a man can only rise so far in a quest for godhood before he must fall, and the powerful young man was already teetering on that precarious edge in his youth.
When he was fifteen, he first noted that his life was missing something, and he became concerned. He did nothing to aggravate that feeling, but the emptiness grew, and continued to grow, until he could not bear the void in his heart any longer. At seventeen, he set out from home, telling his family that he would travel to learn more magic and help people without magic. In truth, he wanted to fill the void within his heart, so he became obsessed with possessing all the knowledge and power the world had to offer, believing that gaining power would be the most fulfilling mission in his life. He believed power would cure his hollowness.
He was young and foolish. Without a good teacher, he was doomed to learn from painful experiences.
So he did.
On his travels, he met older, wiser magicians who taught him their differing arts, unable to deny the young man's immense potential and power. The young man's strength grew fast--but his pride grew exponentially faster.
Two years of wanderings later, he reached the Holy Land. There he stumbled upon a man claiming to have learned magic from the best magicians in Rome. In a crowded street, the self-proclaimed Roman boisterously showed off his magic, to the amazement of ignorant onlookers, but the young man believed that the Roman was too weak and arrogant to be allowed to display his magical idiocies.
He decided to put the Roman in his place. The young man, teeming with energy, easily defeated the braggart in a duel and thus claimed to expose the Roman's deceit. The Roman was enraged, and rightfully so, because his magic, though mostly weak, was real. The young man refused to believe because he deemed himself too powerful to stoop to listen to so insignificant an adversary.
He did not notice that the void in his heart continued to grow.
In the ensuing verbal argument, the Roman cursed the young man, but the young man scoffed at his opponent. How could such a weakling possibly harm him with delirious spells? Without a backward glance, the young man cast a final, debilitating spell and left his opponent in abject ruins.
The youth did not realize that the curse on him was the only truly powerful magic that the Roman had mastered. He did not realize that the curse had taken effect. He did not know that the strength of the curse depended on the strength of its victim. He also did not realize that the curse was now so strong that it could follow him even into his next lives.
He did not realize very much that day, and he would certainly live to regret it.
The years passed, and the young sorcerer forgot the incident. Through experience, he acquired wisdom, and through wisdom, he matured. His power grew tremendously, to the point where he knew everything there was to know. He knew all the secrets of life, and he knew all the secrets of magic.
However, he also knew depression.
His only companion was loneliness.
As a man with power so close to a deity's, he had placed himself upon a pedestal which no human being dared approach, and thus no human being ever grew close to his heart. He allowed no one to come close.
In his adulthood, however, he learned to accept the error of his youthful ways and strove to change himself, realizing that knowledge and power made him increasingly unhappy. He did not want the burden of his power; the consequence of his strength, after all, was a lonely existence. He set a plan in motion, knowing that one day, his daughter would free him, and to fulfill this plan, he created his guardians. Thus, his heart was set to be released from its burden.
Through his guardians, the powerful sorcerer gave himself future freedom from magic as well as present companionship to ease his loneliness. With his guardians, life improved as he discontinued his quest for power, yet he felt that what he had sought in his youth--something to fill the void in his heart--was still missing.
Decades and adventures passed, yet the lonely sorcerer remained unhappy under a facade of cheerfulness, frustrated that he could not discover what was missing from his life. He kept searching, fruitlessly, and the seasons passed, the time trickling away surely and quietly, until his predicted death day.
Then, for no apparent reason, he remembered the Roman's curse.
The Roman's spell had been cast in his youth so long ago, and had seemed so insignificant, that he was startled by the sudden resurfacing memory. Completely baffled, he wondered what his recollection meant, for unexpected memories and visions *always* meant something important.
Throughout that day, even as he was sealing his guardians and sealing his book, he wondered about the Roman curse, attempting to remember the words of the spell. He felt it was crucial that he recall what was said, but, try as he might, he could not form the words.
The hour of his death drew even closer. The sun set, and a soothing darkness settled across the land, across nature, as if the planet itself understood and respected his final moments, and had heard his last request for peace.
And only then, as suddenly as the memory had surfaced, the magician recalled *everything*. It shocked him, nearly overwhelming him with emotion.
The memory made him realize that he had not prepared himself to meet fate. He realized he wasn't in control of his life, and he had not been in control for a long, long time. Finally understanding the significance of his memory, yet powerless to change the course of the future, the sorcerer sighed, deep sadness permeating his soul.
He closed his eyes for the last time.
The centuries-old memory was alarmingly clear.
He could see the Roman's crooked grin. He remembered to frown at the dull glimmer of bloodstained teeth.
"Foolish, foolish boy. You will watch yourself destroy your own soul."
The words had been uttered in Latin, but his centuries of study allowed virtually nothing to escape his understanding. The pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place, and at last he discovered that ultimate secret, the one answer that had always eluded him, staying always desperately out of his reach.
At last he understood that, throughout his life, he had been meaninglessly destroying himself with his self-imposed solitude. Every day, he had wondered what that void in his heart was, why his reflection had always stared back at him with mournful eyes, and only now did he find the answer.
Bitterly, he realized that the curse, a curse that he had so readily dismissed in his youth, had taken effect after all.
"You will watch yourself destroy your own soul."
You will watch yourself destroy the one thing that can make you happy.
*Love*.
You will watch.
*Unrequited*.
You will watch.
*Water mage*.
Watch.
*He never knew*.
He had been an arrogant fool.
He had made himself miserable in this lifetime by pushing away anyone and everyone who would have loved him, including even his guardians. He had trapped his soul in a long, painful existence, surrounded in blind, arrogant walls of self-imposed isolation and cold apathy.
In a future that he could no longer see, Clow Read would inevitably destroy his own soul again.
"You will watch."
The suffering, the tragedy, would be great.
Many years after Clow, Kinomoto Fujitaka indeed watched, his face streaked with tears, as his young wife died in his arms. Her death had been directly his fault, and the anguished husband knew he would never again be completely free of guilt. But because Kinomoto Fujitaka was not fully Clow Read, and did not have access to Clow's memories, his suffering eased. He did not receive the full impact of the curse after he suffered his first loss.
Still many more years later, Hiiragizawa Eriol watched, his face streaked with tears, as his lover died in his arms. He had come too late to save her from a curse he had unleashed upon himself. Yet although Hiiragizawa Eriol was not fully Clow Read, he still possessed Clow's memories.
The curse followed him.
It had only begun, and it would continue to haunt his soul, unless he found a way to break free.
But the curse followed him even as he fled.
For some reason, Tomoyo didn't feel so awkward, lying in bed with an unconscious, naked man whom she considered one of her best friends and who had, apparently, just lost the people he loved most. In light of everything that had happened the night before and everything that had somehow gone off course in her life, her detached non-reaction abruptly made Tomoyo suddenly question her own heart.
Could she be so dead to the world that she no longer even knew how to care?
Tomoyo shuddered at the possibility. She rather liked to think that she was handling things very well. After all, it was her job to handle things smoothly when the world was going to hell.
"Hiiragizawa-kun?" she murmured softly as she tried to extract herself from his grip. His arms had found their way around her waist, even as she lay on top of the blankets and he lay under them. She disentangled her arms from around his shoulders and gently tried to pry his arms off her, to no avail. He merely tightened his hold.
She sighed, glancing at the clock on her bedside dresser only to note that it was already noon. Since lying in bed was most definitely not an effective way to defend oneself from imminent evil, Tomoyo was somewhat relieved they were still alive. She also started to worry because neither of them had eaten anything yet, and they both needed sustenance now, more than ever. With those thoughts, Tomoyo struggled to escape Eriol's embrace once again.
He muttered something unintelligible, but unmistakably whiny, when she finally managed to peel him off her. Trying not to wake him, she gracelessly stumbled out of bed and collapsed in a heap on her floor, next to the pitiful remnants of her heroically attempted Western breakfast.
"I have a headache," she winced, wondering why her head was pounding so badly when she hadn't done anything to deserve it. Ignoring the queasy feeling in her stomach, she proceeded to clean up her room, and then, with that done, she went to her bathroom to freshen up.
After the ten minutes she took to make herself look presentable again and rummage around her apartment for things that Eriol would need when he woke up, she returned to her bedroom to find her visitor sitting up in bed, a slightly sleepy, unreadable expression on his face. Still standing in the doorway, where she could observe him inconspicuously, she had to admit that Eriol looked adorable with his tousled dark hair falling across his forehead, but the bandages made him look more dangerously attractive somehow.
He's as gorgeous as ever, Tomoyo decided, absently musing how Mizuki-sensei could ever resist Eriol, who was currently in a state of irresistible undress. And when Tomoyo at last realized what she was thinking about one of her oldest, dearest friends, she promptly blushed and looked away.
She would hate to openly admit it, but she had always harbored a slight crush on Eriol. It was no coincidence that, throughout their high school and college careers, though Eriol was involved with Mizuki-sensei, Tomoyo and Eriol always went to school functions together.
Everyone reasoned that it would have been inappropriate for Mizuki-sensei to go out publicly with a student, and, according to Eriol and Syaoran, Tomoyo had yet to meet a man they deemed worthy to go out with her. Everyone, apparently, was a loser, and Tomoyo had only perpetuated that misconception because she would rather have fun with Eriol than blunder through a date with someone in whom she had no interest, even if that someone were a prince.
Outwardly, of course, Tomoyo appeared exasperated at Eriol and Syaoran's attempts to guard her (usually by chasing away unfortunate suitors by siccing Akizuki-san on them) until her fabled "perfect" man arrived, but inwardly, she agreed.
She hadn't yet met anyone who could make her *feel*.
Except Eriol.
Only Eriol had captured her interest, and only Eriol had unknowingly stolen into her soul. That much she could admit.
If his heart weren't...
If she hadn't...
If...
*Kaho*.
Tomoyo frantically forced herself to break her train of thought, but not before the darkest, vilest, most horrifying inner workings of her mind made themselves suddenly known. They terrified her, and she wanted to scream for everything to stop. But the thoughts washed over her in a cold, vengeful, towering wave, completely unbidden.
If *Kaho* weren't in my way...
If *Kaho* had never existed...
If he had fallen for *me* first...
If only Kaho...
Kaho.
Well, shouldn't you be rejoicing now? After all, she's as good as dead.
Yes.
Dead.
Finally.
Finally.
Finally.
...
...
I'm glad.
The chilling thoughts shook her.
Feeling suddenly ill, Tomoyo shuddered at the unexpected surge of hatred filling her chest and forcibly wrenched her mind away from that awful direction. She hadn't even *known* she was capable of being so terribly selfish, so uncharacteristically... evil. She hadn't known she had a dark side for she had never truly visited it, and falling so fast and so hard into it now threw her into a panic.
Was she going out of her mind?
Had she finally gone insane?
Why hadn't she seen the edge even as she was falling over it?
NO! she protested mentally, refusing to consider madness because she didn't know *how* to define madness and her world couldn't *afford* to have madness.
No.
She was Daidouji Tomoyo, and kind-hearted Daidouji Tomoyo did NOT wish for people to die, and sweet-tempered Daidouji Tomoyo was NEVER glad that someone was dead, and perfect Daidouji Tomoyo was in love with life.
Of course.
And that explained why she didn't have anyone with whom she could celebrate her life.
Of course.
That was why she was so happy.
Of course.
Of course.
And now was not the time to collapse into tears.
To calm down, Tomoyo focused on the happier events of long ago, trying to lighten her mood with more pleasant memories.
Yes, happy memories would be good. Therapeutic.
Good times. They were all in the past.
She desperately needed something to take her mind off her worries, so she closed her eyes and remembered.
High school.
College.
Those were more innocent times, when life was untouched by the harsh realities imposed by adulthood, when everyone was still together and it felt as if they would all be together forever, basking in close friendships, forming a family bonded by love and not obligated by blood.
Tomoyo remembered.
How they had hung out at the ice cream parlor, where the owner had learned to bring their orders as soon as they sat down.
How they had gone to countless arcades, malls, movies, festivals, plays, and concerts over the years.
How much fun everyone always had.
How she and Eriol were always together, and Mizuki-sensei had not minded or even thought much of it, and they had not minded or thought much about it. No one had thought much of it because the boundaries had been clearly drawn.
Tomoyo had enjoyed all the times she was paired with Eriol, and that had been Tomoyo's secret, her guilty pleasure. It had been her one source of true happiness whenever she felt sad.
It had been wonderful, being with Eriol.
Since all potential boyfriends had fled from the ubiquitous death glares of Tomoyo's best male friends, naturally, Tomoyo and Eriol, consistently left unpaired within their circle of friends, always fell back on each other as partners. Kaho, whom Tomoyo had always known was a gentle soul, had never shown disapproval, and Kaho had even encouraged the partnership in some ways. For Tomoyo, the fantasy had been innocent fun while it lasted, and it had been nice to pretend, sometimes, that the circulating rumors about their non-existent, secret, passionate love affair were true.
Those rumors had admittedly been the source of great fun, and both Tomoyo and Eriol had taken unreasonable delight in staging lovers' spats and engaging in utterly misleading behavior to fuel the flames. Only Sakura and Syaoran had known the truth, and they were only too eager to help Eriol and Tomoyo, who were both popular school leaders and, as such, happily influenced everyone's lives.
In those later teen years, Tomoyo finally understood why Eriol loved to manipulate people in spite of himself. Simply put, manipulation was *fun*, and Tomoyo, who hadn't done it since she had manipulated Sakura and Syaoran into falling in love, had realized she missed the underhanded craft.
Tomoyo grinned, pacified by her happier memories of Eriol and Li-kun joining forces to [rather humorously] preserve Tomoyo's reputation, and the sinful thoughts of Mizuki-sensei's possible fate drifted away, but Tomoyo's face fell when her mind returned to the present once more.
She opened her eyes and remembered.
Everything had happened *years* ago, and life had changed.
Right now, everyone was grown up and had moved on beyond silly antics, and right now, when life was hanging in a delicate balance that she could not even begin to comprehend, Tomoyo's practical side realized that she could not afford silly, girlish nostalgia.
Not when people might be dead.
Mizuki-sensei, her mind helpfully supplied. Mizuki-sensei might be dead.
So grow up, Tomoyo, she told herself sternly, and she turned to Eriol, who now noticed that she had entered the bedroom.
Eriol's stolid expression transformed into a somewhat forced smile when he saw her. She wanted to pity him for all that he had been through, but she guessed, knowing Eriol, that he would not appreciate such an emotion. She waited for him to make the opening, and, as if he had read her mind, he did.
His voice was low, rough, and hesitant. "Daidouji-san, ohayou gozaimasu..."
She nodded in response, a bit wary of how she should act around him. She couldn't be too sure of what to expect, given his strange behavior since his arrival, and she did not want to trample on his obviously raw emotions.
"Actually, it's a bit past noon," she smiled gently at him, watching as he blinked in confusion and absent-mindedly scratched his cheek. Slight stubble was showing on his face, and Tomoyo made a mental note to give him one of her razors when he went to get cleaned up. She remembered how much he disliked facial hair; she did, after all, secretly approve of his clean-shaven look. "We both need to get something to eat before we starve," Tomoyo said, sitting next to him on the bed and trying not to show how nervous she felt. He didn't make a comment, so she asked, hesitantly, "How are you feeling?"
He shrugged, not quite meeting her gaze, and silence descended upon the room.
Lacking anything else to say but absolutely needing to say something, she ignored his disturbing passiveness and persisted with her hospitality, however trivial hospitality seemed at the moment. "So... would you like a drink of water?" she inquired helpfully.
At first she thought he was going to ignore her again, but then he looked up at her with a meaningfully grateful smile. She was taken aback; she had thought that he wouldn't be capable of a real smile at this point. Before she could delve deeper into her thoughts, he politely declined her offer with a shake of his head. "No... thank you."
The room was quiet again for a few moments as Tomoyo looked at Eriol, who was looking away. He was staring blankly at the wall opposite the bed, his face showing subtle melancholy, and after a while, Tomoyo shifted uncomfortably on the bed, not quite sure what she was supposed to do with him now.
He didn't want water. He didn't care to move around. He didn't appear to be in a talkative mood. He didn't even look too emotional. He didn't feel like staring at anything but that seemingly fascinating spot on her wall, and his lack of movement made Tomoyo more than a bit jittery.
She was on unfamiliar ground. How could she deal with someone who couldn't remember what had happened to him? It wasn't as if people lost their memory every day. Tomoyo knew that kind of trauma only conveniently happened in bad soap operas, and even then, they made it a point to stretch the boundaries of believability further.
This was just ridiculous.
"Hiiragizawa-kun..." she began, resolutely not giving up on Eriol until he said more than three syllables, "will you... that is... would you like to talk about anything?"
Still he made no comment. He simply leaned forward, wearily propping his elbows on his bent knees and burying his face in his hands, as if hiding his face from the world might somehow erase reality. For an instant, Tomoyo considered just leaving him alone because his defensive actions certainly suggested his want of solitude, but then he spoke, banishing Tomoyo's insecurities.
He uttered one word, a word that proved Eriol was still alive, that he was thinking on a level above misery. Tomoyo was relieved. "Maybe," he said.
A bit encouraged by his reply, she nodded, "All right then." She paused, eyeing him worriedly before she carefully reworded her earlier question. "So... are you feeling any better?"
Seeing how she genuinely wanted to help, he thought about it briefly and decided he could be honest around Tomoyo because she usually saw through the lies anyway. She was the only one who consistently showed she could. His voice still muffled in his hands, he whispered, "I feel as if I went through hell."
His unembellished honesty made Tomoyo grimace, but she recognized that he was opening up. They were progressing, and Tomoyo was thrilled. "Sorry," she sympathized. "I guess it must be a bad day for both of us... I feel the same way, strangely enough."
He surprised her when he slowly straightened, running his hands through his hair as he turned to look at her seriously. His expressive eyes bored into hers for a few moments, as if he were trying to read her mind, and then he shrugged, turning away again.
"Actually... the headache's probably not your fault. I could be rubbing off on you magically," he admitted, looking apologetic, and she raised an eyebrow in confusion. Remembering that Tomoyo had little magical ability, he elaborated, "Normally I can hold my magic inside me, and I seal and release it at will. But since I feel terrible at the moment, my control is currently inadequate, and I'm leaking magic all over the place. Hence, your headache."
Tomoyo looked at him skeptically, wondering how much of his unusually inelegant, yet effective explanation was caused by a possible concussion. She was about to ask about Eriol's guardians, but then she remembered the distressing repercussions when she mentioned them that morning; Eriol had fought her like an enraged lunatic. With that image haunting her mind, she settled for saying, noncommittally, "Oh... I see..."
She had to figure out how to act around him soon. This was unnerving.
"I regret that my magic is affecting you," Eriol apologized gracefully, managing an air of chivalry and ruefulness at the same time. "I also apologize for my emotional, uh... display... this morning, Daidouji-san. I hope I did nothing I'll regret later..."
Tomoyo wasn't sure what to say next. Should she be honest and just tell him she thought he was crazy? Tell him that he had scared the wits out of her? That he had sobbed in her arms and had fought her savagely to the point of exhaustion?
Although they were good friends, Tomoyo could feel the awkwardness breaching their relationship. The conversation almost felt like one between strangers, and she missed the easy banter that they had shared so many years ago. She finally considered just pointing out the bathroom and fleeing from the strangeness of talking to an unstable Eriol, but she decided against it.
He needed a good friend at the moment, and she was already there.
After another second of deliberation, she made a decision. She would not tiptoe around his feelings. After all, they had known each other for over ten years, and sidestepping his emotions was just stupid in this life-threatening situation. He was a grown man, and he would just have to deal with life and all of its cruel twists, and she would do her best to cheer him up because there was no point in hiding from the truth.
"Don't worry, Hiiragizawa-kun. Of *course* you did something you'll regret later on," she smiled brightly, trying to lighten his mood, and when he managed a feeble, yet genuine, grin in return, she felt unreasonably happy. Her smile softened as she reached a hand out to clasp his. "But seriously... How do you feel? I know we're both confused about what's going on, but maybe it will help to talk for a bit. You know I'm here to listen."
He nodded and said, hints of kindness shining in his eyes and in his voice, "You *are* a sap when it comes to your friends, Daidouji-san."
She blushed and replied unthinkingly, under her breath, "Even more so around you."
He didn't hear her comment. He was marveling at the unexpectedly beautifully red-faced Tomoyo, and he was wondering why he felt so guilty, as if he wasn't supposed to be happy, somehow. He shook the thought.
The moment passed for both of them.
"Hiiragizawa-kun," she said, feeling a bit stronger, and she took his other hand carefully in hers before looking at him directly. Her voice was quiet, but intense nonetheless. "Tell me, Hiiragizawa-kun. For everything I've ever told you and for everything you've done for me, you know you can share anything with me. Just... please... talk to me... what do you need?"
His eyes shimmered with warmth, and she knew he understood the depth of her question. He saw that she was leaving it up to him to decide how far they would go, depending on his answer. She was giving him freedom.
As tempting as the offer of complete honesty was, however, humor was still part of Eriol's personal defenses, and he was tempted to make a smart retort. But then he was surprised to find that he didn't have the heart for it.
He was exhausted.
He felt as if he had taken a beating that would last a lifetime, and he didn't have the energy to fight anything anymore. Eriol smirked. It was strange that although he could hardly remember the cause of his misery, he was pathetically miserable.
"I need time to figure out what's going on," Eriol answered at last, after a moment of stillness, and he pulled away from her discreetly. "I really... just... I don't remember much of what happened before."
He paused, looking perplexed as he directed his gaze towards the ceiling, and Tomoyo was disconcerted to hear him mumble softly to himself, "Is that even possible?"
"Hiiragizawa-kun..."
He shook his head, interrupting her. "It doesn't matter. I can't remember, and there's no point in trying."
Unused to dealing with amnesiacs, Tomoyo's sympathetic side was at a loss, so her rational side smoothly took over. "Hiiragizawa-kun, I don't know what did this, but if it's strong enough to tamper with your memories," she almost shivered, "we absolutely need to clarify everything you can't remember. Fast. But first, do you believe what did this is strong enough to defeat even Sakura-chan and Li-kun?"
"I don't know," he replied, raking a hand through his already mussed hair. "But this... I think this is something intensely personal. Something that our friends wouldn't be able to actually deal with even if they wanted to help." He blinked. "But it doesn't matter anyway. I can't *remember* anything valid. It's not important. Just... just drop it, all right?"
Eriol's demeanor, although still kind, became noticeably defensive. Sensing that he no longer wished to discuss the matter, Tomoyo tactfully changed the subject to give him time to recover his thoughts. "Do you feel strong enough to walk? Your wounds *are* healing quickly."
He looked impressed that she was so observant, momentarily forgetting that, as an artist, she *had* to be observant. "Actually, I'm mostly okay. You're right about my healing abilities. That's one of advanced magic's benefits."
"Good," Tomoyo said, looking slightly more cheerful as she patted his shoulder in a friendly manner. "We won't be completely defenseless in an attack, then. Arigatou. You'd make a lovely human shield, Hiiragizawa-kun."
Eriol looked fairly amused, his expression matching the twinkle in her eye, but he instantly saw the low undercurrent of real fear in her gaze. He glanced around the bedroom, his eyes clouding as he magically scanned the surrounding environment, and then he turned back to her with a reassuring smile. "You can relax, Daidouji-san. I don't sense a threat nearby, and I have a good feeling that nothing will be attacking any time soon. Please don't worry so much."
Tomoyo was surprised. After Eriol's strange behavior since he showed up at her doorstep, she wasn't sure how to respond to his seemingly levelheaded assessment... but she believed him. "I'm glad you're better anyway. Even so, neither of us is in any condition to fight anything. You may heal quickly, Hiiragizawa-kun, but you're definitely not a superhero."
Feeling relieved that they were talking about "safe" topics, he happily took her bait.
"I'll have you know that I've saved the world plenty of times," Eriol declared, "and I think I'm actually ready to battle the bad guys." He huffed in the most arrogant manner possible and promptly winced as he aggravated one of his injuries. "Just... give me a minute." He coughed. "Give me a minute, and I promise I'll valiantly risk my life to save the world once more from certain mortal peril."
He coughed dramatically again.
Tomoyo rolled her eyes. "I guess your brain damage is more extensive than I thought."
Eriol looked aptly miffed, and Tomoyo smiled. If there was one thing about Eriol that she could count on, it was his undying air of superiority and his ability to make fun of himself; that combination was probably why he had been so popular in school. He was a dependable, good-humored guy who *knew* he was good but never actually flaunted it.
"You need to get cleaned up," she told him, ignoring his pitiful injured act and shoving him (gently) back into the pillows, "and I'll get us some lunch. I couldn't call Hong Kong when I phoned work this morning, but I'm sure we should be able to reach Sakura-chan and Li-kun by now. At least we can try as soon as you're ready to figure out what's going on."
"Of course," he agreed, but his cheerfulness was fading. "As soon as I'm ready... of course."
She hesitated, her eyes meeting his and holding steady as the smile that had been playing on his face slowly vanished. In a gentle voice, she added, "We can also try calling England later."
His light mood now completely extinguished, he looked away, scowling, because for some reason he could not quite grasp, thoughts of England made his blood boil. It was confusing, to say the least, to feel such a strong emotion about something he could not recall.
Tomoyo almost wished she hadn't brought up the subject of England again, but then she recalled her decision to adhere to the truth. If the truth hurt, so be it.
She watched him, trying to understand his mood. He had always been a difficult person to read, being almost as good at hiding emotions as she. Since he could hardly understand himself at the moment, however, the only emotion that Eriol exuded was confusion. Deciding that it was now best to leave him alone, Tomoyo stood and turned toward the door, only to be stopped by Eriol clearing his throat. She turned back and met his gaze again.
In that moment, he shifted from a somber mood into a light-hearted one so quickly that she became worried about the distinct *wrongness* in his mood swings. Now that she really thought hard about it, there *was* something off about Eriol, and that discomforting insight instantly put Tomoyo on her guard.
"Daidouji-san, it may be too much to hope, but do you have men's clothes for me to wear?" Eriol inquired, his face faintly displaying dread. Somewhat relieved, Tomoyo couldn't help but grin as he added, "I don't think I could fit into your clothes, nor do I even want to try. No offense to your fashion sense, Daidouji-san, but trust me. Women's clothes are *really* not suited to my physique..."
One slim eyebrow shot up as Tomoyo regarded him thoughtfully, the grin spreading across her face, and Eriol suddenly realized that he had unwittingly given her valuable information.
Tomoyo's intelligence must never be underestimated. This he had learned long ago, but he was currently being a delirious, oblivious idiot.
She chuckled. "Hiiragizawa-kun, we'll discuss your... exploits... into women's fashion later." He bit his lip, feeling like shouting expletives at himself as she continued. "But don't forget--I'm a fashion designer. I keep outfits I've designed and made myself."
"Ah," Eriol scratched the back of his head ruefully. He really should have known. "I suppose there are clothes and everything else I need in your bathroom."
"That's right. New razors are in the first drawer on the left in the bathroom if you need to shave."
"Arigatou gozaimasu, Daidouji-san," Eriol bowed his head, and she nodded politely back to him. "You are truly a great friend."
Smiling, but not knowing how else to answer, she left. Tomoyo closed the door and leaned wearily back against it, and, as she tilted her head up to look at the ceiling, the humorous mental image of Eriol wearing something pink and lacy faded from her thoughts. She suddenly felt severely disappointed.
Eriol was right.
She was always such a great friend, wasn't she?
Tomoyo bit her lip, discontent bristling inside her.
She would go to great lengths to help her friends. She would risk her life for them. She loved them as she did family, because that was how her family had taught her to live. Everyone who knew Daidouji Tomoyo was glad to have her as a friend because she was the sympathetic angel, the emotional anchor, the comforting shoulder, the source of wisdom, the dependable leader, or the one people could fall back on when their plans didn't pan out.
She was the one he always fell back on.
Second choice.
But she was never anything more.
Suddenly, Eriol's well-intentioned compliment stung, as if it were the greatest insult in the world.
As he crawled out of the bed, his limbs suffering various degrees of pain, Eriol wondered why he felt so incredibly disappointed in himself.
"M'shim'shi," Kinomoto Touya answered the frantically ringing phone with half a bite of his sushi lunch still in his mouth. The Tokyo University professor had been lounging so contentedly in his office chair that he was startled when his ear was attacked by a woman's frantically yelling voice.
"Onii-chan! PleasegetYukito-sanandgotoTomoyo-chan'splacebecausesheneedssomeonewithmagictoprotecther—"
Touya nearly choked. "Kaijuu?"
"HOEEEE! I am NOT a kaijuu! I'm a grown, pregnant woman, so don't you dare mess with me!"
"Huh," the older Kinomoto smiled faintly at his sister's ever-present childishness, although he sensed something wrong. She was giving off so much power that even *he* could feel it from where he sat even though his own powers had been greatly diminished long ago.
"Don't start mocking me!" she warned, and then she took a deep breath. "You have to get to Tomoyo-chan's apartment right away. She needs you and Yue-san to protect her. Syaoran and I sensed some evil magic coming after her last night, and we've been trying to contact Japan ever since. To make matters worse, something terrible happened in England, and we can't even contact Eriol-kun!"
The smile immediately left Touya's face and was replaced by his more characteristic scowl. "Na-nani? What's going on? What happened in England?"
"Hoeeeee! I'll explain later!" Sakura said too quickly, and it occurred to Touya that she was avoiding a discussion about England. Sakura didn't pause to breathe. "Right now, I *COMMAND* you to go to Tomoyo-chan's apartment! She can't be left by herself, and we don't know what form this evil is going to take, so please be careful! Syaoran and I will be there tomorrow! Hurry!"
"All right, Kaijuu. All right," Touya reassured her, but in the back of his mind, he realized he was also trying to reassure himself. "I can tell this is urgent. Consider the request done."
"'Nii-chan, you're the best!"
His sister's almost forced, tense-sounding praise only made the cold feeling in the pit of Touya's stomach grow. In the next second, the door to Touya's office opened, and Tsukishiro Yukito, another professor at the university, strode in, having abandoned his normally inextricable afternoon meal. Yukito had transformed into a patiently alert and waiting Yue before Touya had even hung up the phone.
As she was setting the table for lunch, Tomoyo thought she heard the sound of breaking glass. She would have readily dismissed it as a trick of her overworked mind if she hadn't heard the sound again, and again, and again. Surprised and now worried, she stared at the closed door to her bedroom, wondering if she should barge in to save Eriol from another bout of delirium.
She never had to make that decision.
A few seconds after she heard the sounds and turned toward the door, Eriol opened it.
He looked really good for an injured man, Tomoyo admitted, as Eriol hesitantly stepped out into the living room, fresh from the shower. She fought the practical urge to ask him to model her new line of men's clothes, seeing that the outfit looked unbelievably stylish on him. In gray jeans held up by a thick, black, leather belt, and a royal blue, long-sleeved silk shirt with navy trim, Eriol was beautiful to behold.
A closer inspection, however, led Tomoyo to notice something else: the pale expression on his face and his dark, frighteningly unseeing eyes. Suddenly, she didn't care what he was wearing.
He looked as if he had seen a ghost.
Dazed, he raised his trembling right hand to shoulder level, palm up, fingers slightly curled, and stared at it dumbly, as if he were beholding his hand for the first time.
Finally Tomoyo saw it.
"You're *bleeding*!" she cried, running to him. She reached his side in a second, and gently she took his injured hand in hers, turning it over carefully to see how much damage he had done.
"I... Sumimasen. I broke it. Your mirror," his deep voice came in soft, halting gasps, as if he had been pushing himself so hard for so long that he had forgotten how to inhale. "I... I don't know why. I just got so angry. I don't know what came over me. I must have been delirious. Insane. I... I don't understand. Sumimasen."
Something nagged at the back of Tomoyo's consciousness.
"Sumimasen..."
*Something was still off about Eriol*.
"Sumimasen," he repeated.
Something not quite right...
"Sumimasen."
Her eyes met his.
And in that moment, looking up into those deep, sorrowful blue orbs, with her hands cradling his, Tomoyo realized that, in spite of his desperately disjointed speech and his hopelessly lost expression, Hiiragizawa Eriol was quite perfectly *sane*.
And he had been quite perfectly *sane* when he punched her mirror to shards only moments ago.
*That* was what had been bothering her. Eriol was a perfectly sane man trying to act insane, and she knew this with a sudden, unfailing certainty.
She knew because she could see the way his knuckles were cut from the first punch, a punch that he had thrown with deadly precision and not in a fit of wild delirium. She knew he was lying because she could also see the way his palms were so cleanly cut, as if he had deliberately picked up the broken shards of glass and, gripping them tightly in his shivering hand, proceeded to viciously and methodically hack away at the rest of the mirror, as if he had glimpsed something that he did not wish to see.
She saw that his eyes glimmered with the honesty and drama she had seen in countless performances before--because this was nothing more than a performance. She had always seen through his lies, no matter how convincing an actor he was, and she could practically feel the guilt and the deceit and the desperation flowing from him, as if his emotions were leaking into her.
She didn't let on that she knew, and she sensed his relief that she wasn't pressing him for answers. If he wanted to pretend that this was all his madness, then so be it. She would find out when he was ready to share. She would make sure of it.
"It's okay. Tell me about it later. Right now, we need to take care of your hand," Tomoyo said, holding back the questions racing through her mind.
Even though her suspicions were finally beginning to be aroused, and even though her unconditional trust was bending at last, Tomoyo took care of his hand and had it cleaned and bandaged neatly within ten minutes. With that done, Tomoyo quietly led Eriol to the dining room for lunch, delivered from a nearby Chinese restaurant earlier.
They ate in silence, and in an unspoken mutual agreement, the silence remained unbroken as they eyed each other fleetingly throughout the meal. Eriol kept his head bowed for the most part to avoid her gaze, hiding his eyes beneath his dark hair, signaling that he did not want to be questioned.
Please back off, his posture seemed to say. Give me time to think. Give me time to breathe.
So she complied. They both knew they needed time to think and straighten things out, and this was their opportunity. However, Tomoyo became more concerned when she noticed that Eriol's eyes were filled with a dark remorse that hadn't been there when he had woken up. She was tempted to ask if he remembered something, but she decided to wait until after lunch.
They needed peace, and they needed to replenish their energy. Her questions could wait.
Tomoyo and Eriol made short work of the food, and together they quickly washed and put away her dishes almost without a word to each other. Tomoyo was surprised that they worked so well together, their actions bordering on mind reading in spite of the recent, understandably traumatizing events.
When they at last sat down in her living room, Tomoyo in the love seat and Eriol in the couch adjacent to it, Tomoyo felt the tension was so thick that she could drown in it. She wasted no more time.
"Hiiragizawa-kun, just... just tell me what you know. Please."
Her voice was disconcertingly loud in the flourishing silence. He blinked, as if surprised by her straightforwardness, and he hesitated before giving a response. "I told you... I don't remember how I got here or why I was beaten up. I don't even know why I came *here,* to Tokyo of all places, when I should have been..." His breath caught, and his voice lowered to an angry, nearly inaudible whisper. "Tokyo means *nothing* to me... Nothing."
Tomoyo heard the bitterness in his last comment, and she wondered if she should be offended. "I think you *do* know something," Tomoyo insisted, reasonably irritated that he was lying to her. If Eriol didn't want to talk, he knew he could just say so, but he was *lying*, and she did not appreciate it. Did he really distrust her to the point where he couldn't even ask for more time to himself? She wouldn't be offended. She would understand. Really, she would. But the more he tried to hide, the more she wanted to know.
Eriol's expression darkened.
"Hiiragizawa-kun," her voice grew gentle, "you know I care about you. You know I want to help. Please let me." She reached out across the couch to grasp his hand, but he quickly pulled away. Deeply insulted, she tried to pretend his reaction didn't hurt her, focusing instead on his needs. "I can't help you if I don't know what you need help for. You have to tell me something. I don't even know what you did to your hand! At least tell me that."
A pained look crossed his features, and he looked away, staring out the picture windows in her living room and into the clouded Tokyo skies beyond.
It took the last of Tomoyo's patience not to scream. She settled for saying coldly, "You're not being fair."
He didn't even acknowledge that she had spoken. He didn't even *blink*.
And that was the last straw. When he didn't respond, she was angered, her patience shattered. Finally throwing all caution and politeness out the window, she growled, "Hiiragizawa Eriol, I know you better than this. Tell me what's going on! We can't afford to just sit around waiting to be attacked, so stop being such an *ass*."
His eyes snapped to hers, and he asked, effectively stunned, "What?"
"You're being a self-absorbed, ungrateful brat, and your selfishness, for all I know, could cost the people around you their lives," she declared. Encouraged by his surprised expression, she added, her voice rising steadily, "I don't think you lied to me when you woke up this morning or when you woke up this afternoon, but I know you *lied* when you came out of the bathroom. You purposefully smashed my mirror, and I think it's *perfectly* reasonable for me to know why in the world you did it!"
He sat staring at her, thunderstruck. She felt a bit sorry for her outburst, so she continued, in a softer, less accusing, almost pleading voice, "I consider you one of my best friends in the world, Hiiragizawa-kun. You know that. It's one thing to lie to me when you're just teasing," she paused, trying to convey both hurt and understanding, "but this is different. This is serious. This is life-threatening. This is *your* mental health. And I think I have a right to know what you know because I believe the evil coming after me has something to do with you."
Perhaps his fury had been there all along, biding its time underneath his cheerful facade, until she had at last provoked it with her questions, but Tomoyo had never before seen Eriol's face twist into so much anger in so little time. She was frightened by his sudden show of animosity.
He stood and turned, so that his back was to her, and he snarled, "How the *hell* am I supposed to know if it's got anything to do with you? And who do you think *you* are? You don't even have magic, so why the hell would anything ever revolve around *you*? What gives you the right to act all high and mighty and ask me questions?"
Eriol's brutal response shocked Tomoyo, and her eyes widened in surprise. She was speechless.
"I think this has absolutely NOTHING to do with you, Daidouji-san, and I'm just here because of a stupid freak accident," Eriol's rant had escalated so that he was nearly yelling now, his face white with anger. Tomoyo recognized that he was venting his frustrations on her, and although his venting was taking its toll on her ego, she was relieved that he was opening up promisingly.
"This will sound like a slap in the face to you," he murmured, his voice intense but more controlled, "but if you want my honesty, then prepare to be insulted."
He paused, his shoulders drooping almost imperceptibly, and he turned back to face her, his intense blue eyes radiating sadness, regret, and cold vengeance. "We're not as close as we used to be, Daidouji-san. You can't pretend I'm one of your best friends when I've been living on the other side of the world, and I hear from you every three months!"
Her expression was quiet and unflinching, so he pressed on. "You're distant from everyone, Daidouji-san, and you're just..." he hesitated again, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Daidouji-san, I... I'm sorry."
He looked pained, and Tomoyo was torn between fleeing and shaking more of the truth out of him. She knew venting his frustrations was good for Eriol. He needed to vent if he wanted some peace of mind, and Tomoyo was willing to listen, however painful it might be for both of them. But was she even strong enough to hear what he had to say?
This wasn't what she had wanted or expected to hear.
"Daidouji-san," Eriol sounded as if he had given up, but then he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He released everything in a rush that took Tomoyo by surprise. "Daidouji-san, please understand that you're my friend, but you're just NOT a significant part of my life. You may have been a good friend before, but times change." He sounded desperate. "Don't you see? Don't you understand why I'm so confused and convinced that you shouldn't get involved in this?"
It was as if he were begging her to understand, but now she suddenly felt like strangling him. "Hiiragizawa," she wanted to grimace at her grating lack of familiarity with his name, "other than pointing out the fact that you *don't* give a damn about me, which, by the way, I'm already used to, what's your point exactly?"
He clenched his fists again, and he shook his head, averting his gaze. "I don't mean to insult you. Believe me. This is *not* about you. It has *nothing* to do with you. It's about where everyone else is, how people inevitably drift apart." He looked back at her meaningfully. "It's about the people who mean the world to me."
*And you, Daidouji-san, are not one of them.*
Tomoyo felt a dull ache in her chest when she heard his unspoken words, and she felt a part of herself fade. She felt betrayed. Why was he being so cruel? Why was he saying this to a woman who had saved his life only the night before?
Tomoyo usually saw the good in bad things, and when she couldn't find the good, she found justifications. In Eriol's case, she supposed he really was too broken to care. Tomoyo could understand that, and she decided that she could tolerate him, even if he hurt her, because he was suffering already.
Oblivious to everything but his own thoughts, Eriol said, his voice breaking at last, "The point is, I don't know *why* I'm here, Daidouji-san, standing here, yelling at you. Don't you see? By all rights, I should be... I should be..." he was on the verge of crying, and he rubbed his eyes to stop the tears from forming. But he exploded, his fist slamming into the wall next to him with a sharp crack that made Tomoyo wince. "Damn it, Daidouji-san! I should be DEAD! Hell, I *want* to die! Then at least I could be with *her*! Why couldn't you have just left me to DIE when you-"
Something snapped inside Tomoyo, and Eriol didn't finish his suggestion because she slapped him.
Her eyes blazing fire, her lips set in an angry line, her bearing powerful and demanding, Daidouji Tomoyo looked every inch an angry goddess. Eriol was shocked, and he suddenly had little trouble remembering why Tomoyo made such a great leader, having both profound compassion and strength of character. He was floored.
"I can't believe you would dare say that," Tomoyo said, her voice low, but exuding extreme fury. "I can't believe you'd be so unbelievably *stupid*. You can insult me all you want, because I understand you've been through a lot. You already have so much to deal with, and I can easily handle being an emotional punching bag. But to say that you want to... that you want to..." She was breathing hard, and she glared at him, unable to even put the last thought to words. "It's unthinkable!"
Eriol blinked, looking surprised and confused. "I didn't... I didn't mean..."
Tomoyo didn't take note of his confusion, having too much trouble handling her own. "And I thought so highly of you, Hiiragizawa-kun," she whispered acridly. "Didn't you know? I admired your strength."
With that, Tomoyo turned her back to him and stalked off to her bedroom, shutting the door, unaware that tears were rolling down her cheeks.
Because for all of her unconditional disapproval of suicide, Tomoyo just really hadn't been able to handle being an emotional punching bag very well.
Her usually immaculate private bathroom was a mess. It would definitely be a pain to clean up.
"That... that *jerk*," Tomoyo muttered, seething because of what had just happened and because of the mess she would now have to fix. Even through her indignant rage, however, Tomoyo managed to coherently decide to keep Eriol away from her room and confine him in one of her spare bedrooms, where he could wreak as much havoc as he wished in his own bathroom. She still didn't understand what had driven him to such suicidal fury, and, as coldly ungrateful as he had been to her only a minute before, Tomoyo wondered if she still wanted to understand. He had hurt her, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to be around him anymore.
But maybe...
Maybe...
It occurred to her that the problem wasn't Eriol at all.
Maybe she was just afraid.
Maybe she was afraid of what she might find if she looked hard enough. Maybe she was afraid of the horrors that she might see. She was afraid to get close... yet the barriers around her heart yearned to be broken.
She and Eriol really used to get along so well.
Tomoyo sighed, sinking to her knees on the floor just outside the bathroom. At last noticing the tears running down her cheeks, she wiped them off with the sleeve of her shirt, all the while staring at the bloody shards of broken glass on the bathroom floor.
What had possessed him to do this?
What could possess him to do this?
Tomoyo could think of only one thing that could rile Eriol this much, but if he couldn't remember what had happened, then why did he feel so much anger and pain and sadness all at once? His emotions had been so powerful that he had lost the icy control that he had never, in his lifetime, lost.
The flash of light from a piece of the broken mirror caught Tomoyo's eye and interrupted her thoughts. Mesmerized by the eerily jumbled images reflected back to her from a hundred different pieces of the mirror, Tomoyo reached out and picked up a jagged, triangular shard large enough to spread across the palm of her hand. Eriol's blood trailed along the sharp edge and trickled down the mirror side, reminding her of his unprovoked act of violence. It had been so unlike the cheerfully calm, mysterious, and wicked trickster she knew.
Tomoyo frowned.
Once again, the feeling that something was very wrong, something was just slightly *off*, overwhelmed her without warning. Her vision dimmed. A sharp pain lanced through her right hand, as if she had stabbed herself, even though she had not actually cut into her flesh with the blade. Tomoyo could not hold back her cry of surprise.
And then, that something nagging her in the back of her mind fell into place. Indeed, something was off; Eriol's blood was still warm on mirror, sticking to her hands.
Fresh blood.
The blood should have dried by now.
Why wasn't it dry?
Was Eriol not human?
It should have dried...
In the next instant, firm hands roughly grasped Tomoyo's shoulders, slick fingers gripping so mercilessly that they bit into her skin through her clothes, and pulled her up with tremendous strength. Disoriented, with pain shooting through her mind and her shoulders and her hand, Tomoyo didn't realize that she was hurtling through the air until she was well on her way down, when her spine slammed forcefully into her bedpost and her head collided with the unyielding floor.
She thought she saw stars, but the dull ringing in her ears seemed incongruous with the swirling flash of colors before her eyes and the pain shooting through her back. Straining to see what was going on, Tomoyo tried to move, fighting the growing sensation of drowning, and she quickly discovered that she was trapped.
Panic set in.
Something had pinned her arms against her sides as she lay on her back on the cold floor. Something was keeping her from escaping.
And when her vision cleared, Tomoyo was horrified. Nimble fingers--beautiful fingers, she had thought, when they danced so lovingly with the keys of a piano--closed around her neck, trying to squeeze the life out of her lungs. She hadn't considered that these long, elegant fingers of a talented artist might also belong to a murderer. She hadn't believed that his beauty was capable of heinous acts, after all.
Tomoyo's unfocused, unraveling mind recalled a quote about a rose and its thorns before it returned to the fact that this man was crushing her throat.
He was trying to kill her.
And he was winning.
She tried to utter his name, to beg him to see reason, but she was helpless as her flailing limbs were effectively restrained and her heart beat wildly for peace and her lungs screamed violently for air that would not come.
Tomoyo was exhausted. Her vision dimmed even further, and she could no longer clearly see her attacker's handsome face, now distorted into an angry snarl. She couldn't even see the intensity in his blue eyes anymore, but she felt strangely gratified that she could at least see the familiar glint of light reflecting from his glasses.
This monster attacking her was only the shadow of the beautiful man she had known once. Somehow, this observation was reassuring to Tomoyo. At least, her dying mind reasoned, this man murdering her wasn't the Eriol she knew. The Eriol she loved. The Eriol who was once her friend.
Tomoyo's last thoughts were very strange, very random, very confused, but one fleeting, unexpected thought amidst the chaos struck a strong chord in her heart and her mind.
*This might have been more tragic had they been in love.*
Darkness claimed her.
-= End Part Three =-
Chapter Started: December 17, 2002
Chapter Finished: January 21, 2003
Chapter Revised: August 15, 2003
End Notes:
OOC? Definitely! But please understand there's a reason for characters being out of character. I mean, although none of us can say how the CCS kids would act as adults, we know their personality types. If what happened in the final scenes contradicts these established personalities, there's a reason. ^_^
Also, don't worry if the WAFF/romance factor is virtually non-existent at the moment. In the next chapters, this fic *will* focus more on drama and romance (E/T all the way!) because I'm a sucker for romance. This is just the beginning. o_O
~~ Japanese Translations ~~
Kami-sama – God
arigatou gozaimasu – thank you (polite)
hoe (pronounced HO-EH) – Sakura's general expression which has no meaning and may be used in a variety of occasions
(i.e. "Sakura?"
"Hoe?"
"I'm pregnant."
"Hoe!?"
"With Tomoyo's love child."
"HOEEE!?!?"
"And Li-kun is pregnant, too. Congratulations!"
"HOEEEEE!!!")
m'shim'shi or moshi moshi – hello (used only on the phone)
Onii-chan – older brother (informal)
'Nii-chan – older brother, shortened version (informal)
kaijuu – monster, Touya's affectionate nickname for his little sister
nani – what
sumimasen – I'm sorry—usually involving a debt that one cannot repay
Please review and direct all questions, comments, and criticisms to rune_dreaming@yahoo.com. Thank you!
Copyright (C) 2002-2003 by Dark Rune. All rights reserved.