April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.

The Wasteland, T. S. Eliot

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( Four ) _________________________ Look For the Girl with the Broken Smile

The scent of lilacs lingered in the air.

The conflagration had flickered out before them as the last of the portrait had fallen to the floor in ebony cinders. It was darker now that the flames had gone. The only source of light came from the open door, which pared a shaft of brilliant white light upon the ground.

Eriol was still standing behind Tomoyo with his hand on her right arm as if afraid she may fade away. There was a sort of controlled expression upon his handsome features. His eyes were devoid of emotion and he looked blankly ahead.

"What the hell is going on here, Hiiragisawa?" Syaoran suddenly demanded. His roaring voice sent tremors through the air.

Eriol had visibly stiffened at the question.

Sakura placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Eriol-kun," she said with her voice light and pleading. Her eyes were gleamed with a genuine affection, which scarcely softened the imminent tension in the small chamber.

Suddenly, in one fluid motion, Eriol loosen his hold upon Tomoyo and walked passed the small party, then out the open door, the sound of his footsteps resonating. His shadow had briefly obscured the white light upon the floor.

"I want a straight answer out of you," Syaoran growled almost violently. He gave Sakura an exasperated glance and quickly followed Eriol through the door with a quiet anger.

"Syaoran!" Sakura called after him with no effect. She let out a heavy breath and turned to Chantal. "If you will excuse me," she muttered softly before leaving after the two men in a flurry of green like the mohair sweater she wore. Her black silk pants flowed with her every moment as she walked away.

Tomoyo was still transfixed the to burnt painting and for moments the two women left in the room just stood there motionlessly. Chantal struggled to keep a blank expression with anguish and despair daring to seep through. She was frowning ever so slightly.

"Who was she?" Tomoyo asked abruptly and turned to make eye contact with her.

"Cecilia André," Chantal replied quietly.

Tomoyo shook her head. "No. I mean, who was she, really?"

She suddenly smiled a bitter smile with her eyes glazing over. She was half hidden in the darkness in her black cocktail dress. "She was a great and terrible woman; a powerful clairvoyance," Chantal answered in a severe voice. "Cecilia... she was Clow Reed's mistress for many years."

A vicious silence settled into the air. Tomoyo lavender eyes glowed mildly as the information sank in. Her breath quickened and she turned away unexpectedly as if trying to hide something written upon her face. But she hastily looked back once more.

"What happened to them?" she asked quietly. Her eyes seemed to quiver under the dim light of the room.

Chantal cocked her head sideways to study Tomoyo and bit her lip. "Circumstances," she said softly as if the word meant everything.

Tomoyo nodded, understanding. Almost absentmindedly, she raised a hand to the string of ivory pearls upon her swan neck, brushing the soft contours only briefly. "I'm sorry," she murmured in a whisper. She reached out, tentatively, and touched Chantal's hand in sympathy and grief at the loss.

Chantal let out a light laugh. "Don't be sorry for us," she countered. "It was all in the hands of fate. What was done then is in the past now." And she let the words hang in the air for a fleeting moment. "It is I who should be sorry," she finally said.

Tomoyo frowned mildly. A look of puzzlement came onto her porcelain doll like face.

"I know..." Chantal said but paused once again. She exhaled heavily and her honey eyes flashed violently like the crashing of ocean waves. "Eriol hardly ever spoke of you. It's very unlike him for he loved to talk about his days in Japan. I know he cares for both Sakura and Syaoran deeply. He'd go on for hours about the little things you have all done together."

Tomoyo nodded as Chantal hesitated again.

"I know that you and Eriol have had some sort of understanding," she said at last. "And I'm deeply sorry for I stand in the way of that. It must be very painful. For both of you."

"What was done then is in the past now," Tomoyo replied, echoing Chantal's previous statement. A certain intangible sadness appeared in her brilliantly amethyst eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said again and looked away.

"When we were... when Eriol and I were together," Tomoyo said. "He saved me and I must be a terrible person for saying so, especially to you."

Chantal smiled with not a trance of animosity or resentfulness upon her face. "No, not at all."

"Minerva-san, I was..." she mentioned with her hands. "Perhaps I still am. But it is irrelevant now. I'm happy and this was the gift he had given me. I have no regrets, so don't be sorry."

"Then I'm glad," Chantal replied. She reached out and placed a hand on Tomoyo's arm. "I hope we can be friends, Miss Daidouji. Our history notwithstanding."

Tomoyo took a moment to weigh the words. "Yes, I would like that," she decided. "And I'm glad as well."

A sudden draft from the open door swept into the room, lifting the embers of scarlet with it. The pieces of black floated in the air and swirled and twirled with the current; dancing like the ashes of roses.

"Tell me. Minerva-san, if you don't mind my asking," Tomoyo began after a brief respectful silence. "How did it end for her?"

Chantal studied Tomoyo with her electrifying golden eyes. "Do you believe in redemption, Miss. Daidouji?" she asked with a bitter smile.

"I wish I do," was her answer. "Many things can be fixed in this world. But people: they stay the same."

Chantal nodded content with her response. "You see, Miss. Daidouji," Chantal continued. "I've done many things in my last life which I am not proud of. I've erred terribly; sinned even. I have betrayed many and renounced others. I gave much sorrow to those who've loved me. And what is it they say? 'Let the ends justify the means.' And in the end, I had forsaken everything to restore and salvage. But there was a terrible price. There always was a great and terrible price."

The silence had returned. Tomoyo looked aghast by her words but she remained unpronounced waiting for her to finish.

"I think that perhaps you are right, Miss. Daidouji," Chantal finally said after a prolonged reticence. "People are too tainted to be redeemed. It is a shame, no? For I had always wanted to unbreak that fine china vase of Eriol's, which I had shattered accidentally."

Tomoyo's expression softened. She shook her head lightly. "People can always be forgiven, Minerva-san," she replied. "Do you believe that?"

"Yes," Chantal replied shortly. "But is that enough?"

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Author's Notes: Please excuse my appalling attempt to interject something meaningful into this chapter. I hope you understood that. Philosophy had always fascinated me. The issue of redemption and rebirth was always one that had intrigued me.

And no, I am not getting religious on you. This is not meant to be a religious story and it will not become one.

There were two things I really wanted to get across and since I constantly confuse readers I think I will just restate it. First off, Tomoyo and Eriol have a past together. Secondly, Chantal is Cecilia's reincarnation (of course). Tomoyo had already figured it out and that is why she's apologizing to Chantal. Also there are some foreshadowing throughout this chapter about the true reason behind Cecilia's leaving Clow and what happened after that. It will all be clear in the next chapter. Don't worry.

Please review before you leave.