Kaze.

The wind blew over the quaint little café in the heart of Quebec. The wind was piercing and cold and it blew in the direction of the east. Sitting on the outside was a young lady, dressed in a becoming black coat, sipping a hot liquid from a delicate china cup, help by equally delicate fingers. Her large brimmed (black) hat hid the expression from her eyes, but one could see that she was, if nothing else, calm. Her long slender feet were crossed, and her elbows rested on the hard arms of the chair, relaxed.

Still, if she was calm, it was a forced one. Tortured, jumbled thoughts racked through her head. One month and eleven days ago she was still laughing. One month and six days ago she was crying. Now she was reflecting.

She was wishing, fervently, desperately, that she wasn't alive, that she could be dead. But she had promised. Promised.

Her mother probably would have gone crazy if she had died, not to mention Grandfather Amamiya and Kinomoto-sensei. She stayed alive for them. And for Sakura.

Sakura.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a polite 'cough' behind her. Not even bothering to look up, she asked politely in English, "Yes?"

"Do you recognize me Daidouji-san?"


She now looked up, surprised beyond belief. In front of her was Eriol, Sakura's 'guide,' the reincarnation of Clow Reed. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

Eriol gave a smile. "I never knew you could be speechless either, Daidouji-san. May I?" he indicated the empty chair next to him.

Her senses finally came back to her, and she graciously nodded her head. "By all means, Hiiragizawa-san."

He sat down, still smiling. "So Daidouji-san, what brings you to a little city in Canada?"

"Quebec is far from being little, Hiiragizawa-san," she avoided the obvious question expertly. "The province does want its independence, I'm sure you know."

"Of course," he replied, nodding amiably. "Of course."

"What brings you to Canada?" she now asked him, her violet eyes flickering up to his deep, deep blue eyes.

"Of course to see you, Daidouji-san," his voice was now deadly serious. "To see you."

+ + +


Her beautiful features portrayed nothing of her feelings. But her violet eyes were a tumult of emotions. Confusion, sadness, anger all ran through her head. Her voice, however, was as polished as her face. "To see me, Hiiragizawa-san?" she forced her lips into a charming smile. "I'm very flattered, Hiiragizawa-san."

Eriol looked at her, his blue eyes searching earnestly. "Sakura-san…wanted me to," his voice was now low and apologetic. "Nadeshiko-san told me."

The little control she had over her emotions almost shattered at the name. She looked at Eriol, her eyes saying more than she ever could.

"You know that Nadeshiko-san can appear before those with just a little magic," he struggled to keep his tone from being matter-of-fact. "They're…worried. And I am too."

She ignored the fact that dead people were worried about her and just bluntly asked, "Why would you be worried about me? Back in elementary, we barely spoke! I was only your friend through…her." She could not bring herself to say her name. She thought of it often, and she heard it inside and outside her head, but she would not, could not say her name.

To her surprise, Eriol took her hand. "Sakura, Daidouji-san. Sakura."

"Hiiragizawa-san," she laughed nervously, withdrawing her hand from his. "What is this, therapy?"

"Exactly," once again, there was that earnest seriousness that pierced right through her. "Exactly. I know what you're going through right now, Daidouji-san," he went on, keeping his deep, deep eyes on her face. "And I can help you. I can explain why…"

She laughed skeptically and sarcastically and stood, her slim figure unexpectedly towered over him. "Explain?" her voice was not only incredulous, but also haughty. "Explain? Hiiragizawa-san, they're dead," she spat out the word. "What more is there to explain? And I don't want you here; thinking it's your duty to come give me comfort or something, just because Nadeshiko-san asked you to come. I don't want nor need anyone's pity or therapy or whatever the hell you came here for. I just want to be alone for a while. And I don't want to talk about it." And with that she turned heel and walked off, her heels clicking furiously.

Eriol sighed and sank down, his head buried in his hands. From out of his overcoat, a little black cat floated out. "Master, you shouldn't stress yourself over it," it said in a low whisper, as to not attract attention.

"Spinel, I'm not," his muffled voice replied. He lifted his head and the black ringlets around his bloodshot eyes were visible. His face that was white, so white was now a pale gray, as if he were sick.

A woman came into the café and sat down across Eriol. "Eriol-sama, if you didn't use illusion she could have seen how much it was affecting you too."

"It's not affecting me," but the strain was on his voice.

"Hmm, what was the joke I heard the other day?" the woman professed to be thinking. "Oh yeah. I think you're in Egypt because you're in the Nile. Get it? Denial? The Nile?" Here she laughed a bright happy sound that was amplified by the wind. And all around her people smiled. Happiness was hard to find these days.

"I'm not in denial," Eriol insisted weakly. He sighed again. "I should go after her."

"Not until you have the right reasons," the woman was now serious, firm. "She was right; you only came because you thought it was your duty."

"Ruby is right, you know," Spinel Sun now spoke up. "Perhaps you should try and be friends with the girl first. Then you have the right to say those things to her. Right now…you have nothing. You even insulted her."

Eriol weighed these things on his mind. He let out a long breath. "You're right. I'll go after her now and apologize." The two guardians nodded.

As Eriol went out of sight, Nakuru spoke. "She's gotten more beautiful."

"Of course," Spinel replied. "She's grown up."

"But it's not just that, Suppi. She's put up this…wall of beauty, to hide her sadness. And she's certainly more defensive," Nakuru explained.

Spinel nodded. "Grief can do that to you. It's a terrible thing."

+ + +

"Daidouji-san!"

She almost cringed. Her anger was now spent and remorse was setting in. She really didn't want to face him anyway. He was in the wrong, but so was she. She turned anyway.

He was there behind her, and she was amazed at the change that took place. He looked so…old. Old and tired and sad. "Daidouji-san," he panted. "I wanted to say sorry."

Before he could go on, she cut in. "No, no, Hiiragizawa-kun, I should say sorry. I was horribly rude…"

"But I was wrong to be dishonest with you," now he interrupted. "Daidouji-san, I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I had no right to say any of those to you. I wasn't thinking; you were right, I was doing this out of duty. But I want to change that. And since we're two people that are grieving, I'd like us to be friends. No therapy or any of the crap. I just want to be friends." He held out his hand.

Every and any animosity Tomoyo might have had towards him disappeared. If anything, she admired his candor and honesty. So she stretched out her own hand, and their fingers touched.

Around them, the wind direction changed and to the west it went. The breeze was now gentle, warm.

Kaze.