L-chan's notes: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Oh, and this chapter is twice as long as what I usually write, so you may want to caff-up.

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Shadows

Chapter 6—Maybe

After an interminable dinner with her mother, Tomoyo was finally able to escape to her room. She loved her mother, she really did, and dinner was usually the only chance they had to talk, but today was different. She'd been lost in a daydream ever since she left Touya's apartment, and she'd distractedly pushed her noodles around her plate until Sonomi said her name, apparently not for the first time.

"I'm sorry, Okaa-sama. What did you say?" she'd asked sheepishly.

"I wanted to know where you dashed off to this afternoon."

I wouldn't exactly say that I dashed. "I had a piano lesson."

Sonomi's violet eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Since when do you take piano lessons?"

"Since today. Kinomoto-sensei offered to teach me." Tomoyo noticed the almost imperceptible arch of her mother's perfectly shaped auburn brows, and she wondered if that implied skepticism or disapproval. "I meant to tell you—ask you—this morning, but you had already left for the office."

Sonomi didn't say anything as she refilled her coffee cup and stirred in a packet of low-calorie sweetener. She tapped the spoon against the cup before setting it on the china saucer. "Kinomoto-sensei," she repeated slowly. "Do you mean Touya-kun?" As far as she knew, Fujitaka wasn't musically inclined. If he was, then he would be disgustingly perfect. She didn't think she could deal with that.

Tomoyo nodded. "I was only over there for a couple of hours. You can call and check." She was focusing on this aspect rather than the lessons themselves, hoping that her mother would forget to forbid her from what she would surely consider a useless activity. If she could just continue to make a little bit of progress, adding piano lessons to her involvement in the choir, maybe someday she'd finally be able to convince Sonomi that music was more important to her than going to business school.

"That won't be necessary," Sonomi answered as she sipped at her coffee. She used to hate the stuff, but she'd gotten addicted during her last business trip to Los Angeles. It still tasted wretched, even with the sweetener, but she didn't drink it for the flavor. "I thought maybe you had a date. You know how I feel about that."

"Yes, Okaa-sama." Her mother's rules were perfectly clear on that matter.

Sonomi hadn't heard from Touya since he'd agreed to look out for Tomoyo, so she had no reason to believe that a boy had somehow entered the picture. And if there was anyone she trusted with her daughter, it was Nadeshiko's son. He understood that Tomoyo was not to be distracted from her responsibilities. Her future was too important. "So, you want to take piano lessons."

"Just a couple of times a week," Tomoyo explained in her most mature and steady voice, knowing that her mother was seldom swayed by displays of emotion when it came to negotiating, either in business or in personal matters. Tomoyo had learned long ago that it was best to be calm and pragmatic if she wanted to get her way. Even so, her pleading eyes conveyed just how much this meant to her.

"And these lessons won't interfere with your schoolwork." It was more of an order than a question.

"No, Okaa-sama."

"Then I suppose it's all right."

"Thank you." A small battle won. "May I be excused to study now?"

"Tomoyo," her mother stopped her as she stood up from the table, "you know I only want what's best for you, don't you?"

She only wants what's best for me, Tomoyo reflected now as she sat at her desk, going over her chemistry assignment. But why can't she see that what I want is what's best? Maybe someday...

She finished balancing the last equation and closed her textbook with a satisfied sigh. She'd completed her English and calculus homework earlier, and the history assignment was a pairs project, so she'd meet with Meiling after school tomorrow to work on that. She shoved all of her books into her backpack, tucking in a couple of extra pencils and making sure everything was accounted for.

After changing into her favorite yellow nightgown and plaiting her hair in a loose braid, she crawled into bed with Touya's book. She held it to her chest and closed her eyes, smiling as she remembered spending the afternoon with him. Her little crush should have gone away by now, but instead it seemed to be growing stronger. But she didn't care, as long as she could feel... hanyaan, as Sakura would call it. She'd always wondered what that meant. It's warm and happy and just... wonderful.

Tomoyo propped her pillows behind her so she could sit up to read. The chapters were brief but dense with theories on identity and purpose. Not exactly light reading, she thought wryly, trying to wrap her mind around the complex ideas presented. After the first two chapters, she was about to set the book aside for the night when she noticed some characters scribbled in the margin. Touya's handwriting. He writes in his books? She hadn't noticed that when she'd gone through his shelves earlier.

She quickly thumbed through the book, seeing blue ink marking many of the pages where he'd made notes or underlined passages. She turned to a random page, and the word Yuki jumped out at her. She flipped to another page, then another. Yue, Yuki, Sakura, Yuki...

She slammed the book shut and stared at the cover as her fingers gripped it tightly. I shouldn't be reading this. Why would he lend it to me if he knew what was in it? But maybe he didn't remember. He'd said he hadn't read it in a long time. How could he forget? It was like he'd used it as a journal, even using the blank pages between chapters to jot down disjointed thoughts.

Her fingers brushed over the bent corner of the book, and the skitch-skitch sound of the curling pages tempted her to keep reading. She felt like she would be invading his privacy. But she was so curious about him. And he did offer it to her. If it gets to be too personal, I can always stop. Or tomorrow I can just go buy my own copy and give his back.

Hoping her decision wouldn't cost her his friendship, she opened the book and continued reading.

-----

Touya shifted his books to his other arm as he tried to unlock his stubborn mailbox. Finally, the key wedged into the slot, and the metal door opened. He jumped back as an overpowering floral scent wafted out, immediately permeating the air in the building's entryway. As he suspected, a red envelope was stuck in among the other letters. Akizuki.

He scanned the rest of the mail as he trudged up the stairs to his door. Bill, bill, junk, take-out menu. It was always the same. If it weren't for Nakuru's monthly letters, he'd never receive anything interesting. And if it weren't for the bills, he probably wouldn't even bother to check his mail.

After dumping most of his books on his desk, he walked back to the bedroom, placing the music book he'd borrowed on the piano bench. Tomoyo was supposed to come over for her lesson after choir practice, but he wasn't exactly sure when that would be. He emptied his pockets and set his watch and glasses on the nightstand before changing out of his suit. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a brown v-neck sweater and ran a comb through his dark hair. Time for a haircut, he thought, pushing the errant strands out of his eyes. They fell right back into place.

When he went back into the living room, he stretched out on the sofa with the red envelope. He always looked forward to Nakuru's cheery letters, even though he'd never let her know that, with her news about Eriol and Kaho and detailed accounts of the pranks she loved playing on Spinel. She asked him when he would come visit them, saying that Yukito had just been and that they'd all had a very nice time together. She'd taken him to the park and the museums and his other favorite places in London. Although, she wrote, if possible, Yue is even less fun than Suppi. And does he ever say anything? He just stands there with his arms crossed and those silver eyes boring right through you, like you're not even there. It's really annoying.

As if she'd just realized what she was saying, the subject quickly jumped to the weather—rainy, of course—and her prized flower garden, of which she'd enclosed a photograph. She purposely kept things innocuous for the rest of the letter. Again she begged him to visit, and instructed him to hug Sakura and Kerberos for her. As usual, the letter ended with her asking him to marry her, accompanied by a scarlet lip print and little doodles of hearts.

Touya sighed as he shoved the pages back into the envelope. Nakuru always tried so hard to keep things light in her letters, and they would normally bring a smile to his face. He knew she wasn't serious about half the things she wrote, and her incessant proposals were just meant to exasperate him, which they did. But when she'd mentioned Yuki and Yue, he'd felt that emptiness again.

He'd gotten pretty good at ignoring it, and he'd learned to live with it. He'd willingly given that part of himself away. And then suddenly something would remind him, and the hole would make itself known with a dull, persistent ache. Will it ever feel normal? Or will I always feel so... incomplete?

He could have settled in for a long evening of melancholy introspection, but the buzzing of the doorbell interrupted his little pity party.

Tomoyo greeted him with a sweet smile as she held out a can of juice. "I got these downstairs. Want one?"

Just that simple gesture made him feel so much better. It was amazing what a little kindness could do for one's mood. "Thanks. Come on in, and we'll get started."

Tomoyo dropped her backpack on the sofa and shrugged out of her school blazer. Her nose wrinkled as she smelled the heavy scent of cheap perfume. Did he have a date over? she wondered with a little flash of jealousy, pulling her navy tie free of its knot. Then she noticed the red envelope sitting on the coffee table. A love letter. Of course. Someone that good-looking probably gets dozens of them.

For about five seconds, Touya had been really happy to see her. Then she took off her jacket and tie, and those innocent attempts to get comfortable sent his mind in a direction it should never be allowed to go. He'd never realized that the Seijou uniform's skirts were so short. When he was in high school, he hadn't been that interested in looking at girls. Even now, surrounded by female students all day, he didn't really pay attention. But on Tomoyo, alone with him in his apartment, the uniform seemed like something out of a fetish magazine. The miniscule pleated skirt, the virginal white blouse, and those pristine white knee socks... Pervert, he berated himself, gulping down the cold juice, squeezing his eyes shut and unconsciously crushing the can. It's Tomoyo, for God's sake.

"I'm ready when you are."

"Sorry?" He opened his eyes again, and she was apparently waiting for something. Probably her piano lesson, genius. "Oh, right." Dragging his mind out of the gutter, he led her back to his bedroom, which naturally called for greater effort to accomplish the dragging.

"Are you okay?" He turned around, and she was looking at him with a worried expression in her violet eyes. "You seem out of it today."

He blinked, and things came back into proper focus. It was just like her to be concerned about him. She really was a caring, thoughtful girl. His mind was now mercifully clear. "It's just been a long week," he finally answered, giving her a tired smile. "And I was starting to feel a little lonely. I'm glad you're here." He didn't mean to say that, but it was sincere. Something about her made him open up like that. It had been a long time since he'd felt comfortable enough with someone to share what he was feeling.

Tomoyo's heart fluttered at his words, whatever he meant by them. "Well, me, too," she answered, wondering if there was something more going on behind his brown eyes. "I've been practicing the scales you taught me, but it still just sounds like so much noise."

Touya laughed as he picked the book up off the piano bench. "Have a seat, and we'll work on that." She sat down next to him, and when their legs touched, he didn't move away, even though he knew he should. "If you thought I was being condescending last time, wait until you see the book I found," he told her with a grin as he opened the music book to the first page. "Keep in mind, this is for beginners, so they assume you know nothing." The page showed pictures identifying each note with a distinctive color. "They felt the need to give the notes little faces and personalities. See, the whole note is sleepy looking, and the eighth note seems rather excitable."

Tomoyo giggled as he pointed to the pictures. "I feel like I'm four years old. Can we skip to something a little more advanced?"

"Now, now, you have to learn these things," he said, trying but failing to keep a straight face. "But remember, when you read grown-up music, the C's won't be red, and the D's won't be yellow."

"Aw, but they're so pretty!"

He chuckled as he turned to the next page, which showed a diagram of the keyboard with a finger chart. "Seriously, now, let's start here. I want you to know the right way to do this instead of picking up my bad habits."

After a few minutes of guiding her hands, he realized that it was too difficult, not to mention distracting, to keep reaching in front of her to position her fingers. He moved to stand behind her, which wasn't much better, because when he leaned forward, he could smell her hair. She'd left it down, held away from her face with a red headband, and he could almost feel it brushing softly against his cheek.

He closed his eyes and swore under his breath.

"Oh, no, what did I do wrong?" she asked anxiously.

"Nothing. You're doing fine." Get a hold of yourself, Kinomoto. "Ready to try an actual melody now?" He turned to the next page, which had large, colorful, smiling notes arranged on the staff.

She recognized the song as one she'd learned in elementary school, so at least she knew how it was supposed to sound. "I'll apologize for my playing in advance, in case you want to cut off your ears and end the torture." She wished he would sit with her, but it was probably better for him to stand behind her, because then he couldn't see her blush when he touched her. His arms reached around her, one hand pointing to the notes as the other helped her find the proper keys.

"That's not too bad, actually. Let's try it again."

He leaned close to her again, and it was hard for her to concentrate on what she was doing. He smelled good, like... Like the park. Like trees and grass and sunshine and the wind. She hit a wrong note and cringed. "Oops." Focus, dummy.

"It's okay. Start from the beginning."

They went over the melody several more times, and he stood back, letting her play it on her own. Each time through, it became more fluid, and her confidence increased. "That almost sounded like music," Tomoyo exclaimed after making it to the end without a single mistake, even though she'd had to play it slowly.

"Almost," Touya agreed, and then he grunted when her elbow jabbed his stomach. "How about we call it a day? I'm just about sick to death of that song now." She turned around to give him a mischievous grin and started humming the tune. "Don't make me hurt you, Daidouji."

If she were braver or more experienced, she could have come up with a flirtatious rejoinder to that. Instead, she simply folded her hands in her lap and looked up at him. She didn't want to go. She'd looked forward to this all week, and they'd finished so quickly. "Thanks for letting me come today," she said softly. "It worked out well, because my mother left for Osaka this morning, and I didn't feel like going home and being by myself."

"I know how that is," he answered. Then a really, really stupid idea occurred to him, and whatever part of his brain was in charge of stupid ideas took control of his mouth. "Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"May I?"

He discovered that he loved that stupid part of his brain. He wanted to kiss it and buy it flowers. Her heart-shaped face just lit up at his invitation, and he knew he wanted her to stay a little longer. After all, he didn't want to be alone, either. "Sure. Oh, but wait. I haven't been to the market, so I don't know what I've got."

She followed him to the kitchen, and he opened the refrigerator, rolling his eyes as he inventoried the pitiful contents. "Well, there's a couple of beers, some leftover soup, two eggs, and..." He pulled out a plastic container, wrinkling his nose in disgust when he opened the lid. "Whatever this was, I think its best days are behind it." He pitched the whole box into the trash. "There's a burger place around the corner. I could go get us some take-out."

She nodded. "But you'll have to let me pay." She was already imposing on him enough as it was.

He crossed his arms in an X in front of him. "I won't hear of it. It's my house, so that's that."

"Understood," she replied with a jaunty salute, grinning when he smiled back at her.

Touya retrieved his wallet and keys from the nightstand in his room. "I'll be back soon. You can watch TV or something, if you want." And then he was gone.

Tomoyo heard the door click shut, and the silence in the apartment was oppressive. This is weird, she thought. I should have gone with him. But she couldn't deny that a tremendous opportunity had landed in her lap. Part of her knew that she should sit down and start on her homework like a good girl, and the other part really wanted to snoop around. This internal battle was hard-fought, and in the end, homework suffered a crushing defeat.

His books and papers from school were sitting on his desk, but she knew better than to go through those. She'd already poked through his bookshelves, and there didn't seem to be much of interest in the kitchen. That red envelope on the coffee table beckoned to her, but that would be going too far. The only place she hadn't really explored was at the end of the hallway. I really shouldn't. Her feet didn't listen.

He had several family pictures on his dresser, most of them taken when he was young. One was a touching portrait with his father holding Sakura, who couldn't have been more than two, while nine-year-old Touya stood proudly next to his seated mother, her arm lovingly keeping him close to her. There was also a photograph of his parents on their wedding day, along with Sakura's most recent school picture, and almost hidden behind the other frames was a shot from their trip to Hong Kong several years ago.

Tomoyo picked up the wooden frame and examined the picture, taken on the ferry with the city behind them. Back then, Sakura had still been hanyaan for Yukito and was standing between him and her best friend with a cheerful grin on her cute ten-year-old face. On Tomoyo's other side was Touya with his hands shoved in his pockets, wearing his usual expression of indulgent exasperation. She remembered that day, their last day before coming home, but she didn't remember this particular moment. She stared at her younger self, standing next to him, and wondered if she had this same picture somewhere. She didn't think she'd ever seen a picture of the two of them standing together before. But she'd never really focused on that.

After putting the frame back in its place, she sat down on Touya's bed, running her hand over the soft cotton comforter. He'd left his watch on the nightstand, and she tried it on, feeling its weight as it hung loosely on her wrist. Then she tried on his glasses and giggled at how blurry everything had become. She set them back down on top of the book he was reading and his watch next to it, just as he'd left them.

She stretched out and laid her head on his pillow, feeling the cool flannel of the white-and-green plaid pillowcase against her cheek. She wrapped her arm around it and turned her face into the pillow, inhaling his clean scent. She knew she was acting crazy, but she just wanted to feel close to him. Sighing sleepily, she closed her eyes. I'll get up in a minute and go watch television, like he said.

The next thing Tomoyo knew, she heard the front door open. "I'm back," Touya called, and she sat up with a start, quickly swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She hadn't meant to doze off. She rubbed her eyes and ran to the bathroom to check her hair and wash her hands, hoping that he'd think that she'd only been in there and not in his room.

He was getting two plates out of the cabinet when she walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She had a guilty look on her face, but it was immediately replaced with a grateful smile when he set the take-out bag and sodas in front of her. "Thanks for inviting me to stay. It's really nice of you."

He just waved his hand dismissively and unwrapped his sandwich. "You don't like pickles?" he asked as he watched her pluck them off her hamburger.

"Not really," she replied. "You can have—" He was already grabbing them and adding them to his own burger.

"Do you want my tomato?" When she nodded, he peeled off the slice and set it on her plate. It was just like being at home, trading with Sakura, only she never let him have her pickles. But Yukito always did, even though he liked them, too.

They talked about school as they ate, and she tried to get him to tell her if they were having a chemistry quiz tomorrow, but he just shrugged. "It's a lab day, but that doesn't mean that there won't be a quiz as well."

"Fine, I'll read the stupid chapter," she grumbled, pretending to be annoyed. He just raised his dark eyebrows at her while he sipped his soda.

Then they talked about other things, music and art and anything else that came to mind. He told her about Nakuru's letter, and she was inwardly relieved to finally know where that perfumed envelope had come from. She replied by saying that she missed all the excitement of those days. A flicker of pain flashed in his eyes, and she knew he was remembering how he had been affected by those events.

She needed to tell him that she'd read his book. If they were truly friends, they couldn't have any secrets from each other. Well, except for the fact that she'd slept on his bed. He didn't need to know about that. He had to have realized what he'd given her, and that she'd seen it, but he hadn't brought it up.

Tomoyo took a last drink of her soda and cleared her throat softly. "I finished reading that book." In any other conversation, the comment would have seemed incongruous, but he immediately understood. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Sure," Touya answered, trying to sound casual, but his eyes were focused on his plate. "What did you think of his idea that—"

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." He'd hoped she'd forget to read it, or that she'd just give it back, saying she wasn't really interested. He didn't know how to feel, knowing that she'd read his incoherent ramblings from that confusing time in his life. He looked up at her, and her violet eyes were filled with concern. Maybe she would understand. Maybe if I just told someone, I might start feeling... I don't know... something.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have read it."

"No, it's okay." Touya sighed deeply, wondering where to start. "I was going through a hard time back then. When Yuki needed me to save him, I didn't hesitate. But I had no idea what it would do to me. After I gave him my power, I didn't just feel tired. I felt... lost. Suddenly I had this emptiness inside me, a hole I couldn't seem to fill." He felt it now, and he closed his eyes tightly. Why does it still hurt, after all this time?

Tomoyo didn't even stop to think. She reached across the table and placed her hand over his, because it was the only thing she could do for him. His eyes opened, and his gaze went to their hands, her gesture of friendship. He turned his hand over to grasp hers, feeling the warmth and comfort she was offering.

"I needed something," he continued. It wasn't strange to bare his soul like this, because he wasn't really talking to her. He was talking to himself, saying things he hadn't thought about in a long time. "I needed an identity, a purpose. Whatever or whoever I was before was gone. So, I decided to throw myself into everything I did, determined to be the best. The best student, the best athlete, the best brother, the best boyfriend. The answer had to be in there somewhere. If I could just find it..."

He shook his head. "I tried too hard. Sakura said I was smothering her, but I thought she was just being a pesky little sister, so I didn't pay much attention. And then one day, when Yuki said the same thing..." His words trailed off again. That was something he did not want to talk about. "I've never been good at doing nothing, especially if I think someone needs me. I have to be able to do something, otherwise, I feel worthless. There's something I'm meant to do, I just know it. Something that will finally replace that missing part of me." He restlessly raked his hand through his hair and looked at her. "God, am I making any sense at all?"

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "Of course. I know I feel that way sometimes, too. Maybe it's normal. Maybe that's what life is for, to find that something that we're all meant to do and make our lives complete." She'd gotten more out of that book than she'd realized. That had been the author's point, though it had taken him two hundred pages and several abstract theories to say so, and she knew that he was right.

"Maybe." Touya put his hands over his eyes and rubbed them wearily, as if he were coming back from someplace deep inside himself. Then he ran his hands through his hair again and gave her a sheepish look. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I burdened you with all that."

"What are friends for?"

Her kindness and sincerity touched his heart, a place where no one had been allowed for a long time. Now he smiled, too. "Thanks. You're a good kid, Daidouji."

It was the worst thing he could have said, but he didn't know that. She tried to keep that smile on her face, knowing now how he really thought of her. "Thanks," she repeated. She finally tore her gaze from his, because she was afraid that he'd be able to read her feelings in her eyes. "Thanks for dinner, too. Can I help you clean up?"

He'd done something wrong. He saw it when she looked away. What just happened? "No, that's okay," he answered slowly. "You should probably head home before it gets too dark."

"I guess so." Tomoyo went into the living room and slid her arms into her blazer. She rolled up her tie and stashed it in her backpack. "So, I'll see you at school tomorrow."

He was standing in the kitchen doorway, watching her. "Yeah. And let me know when you want your next lesson." He wished he knew what was wrong.

"Okay. Bye." The door opened and closed before he could say anything else.

Touya still stood there, staring at the door. I should have asked her. All I did was talk about myself, when something is clearly bothering her. Maybe she'll tell me when she's ready.

He thought about her the rest of the evening, while he washed the dishes and prepared for his classes, while he watched television and got ready for bed. It was a jumble of thoughts, but it all came back to the fact that he was drawn to her. He knew it was wrong, and maybe she was just there at a time when he needed a friend.

But if he only saw her as a friend, then he wouldn't be lying in bed, thinking about her, imagining that he could still smell her perfume.

-----

I'm sorry this went on forever. There's just so much to cover!