L-chan's notes: I'm glad to see you all back for the new chapter.
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.
Shadows
Chapter 18—Those Who Forget History
"What?!"
Now Touya was awake. He threw back the sheets and jumped out of bed. "You can't be serious!" He felt a chill, and he belatedly glanced down at himself. Luckily, he'd had the foresight to leave his shorts on when he went to bed. He walked over to his dresser and opened the middle drawer, searching for a t-shirt. "That's crazy!" he said, his voice muffled as he pulled his blue Seijou Science Department t-shirt over his head.
This wasn't the reaction Tomoyo was expecting. "Don't you want to marry me?"
He turned to her and put his hands on his hips. "Sweetheart, of course I want to marry you," he answered with a slight tinge of irritation. "But I thought we'd wait until you finished high school to start talking about that." This was the first time he'd said anything that specific about it, but that was only because the future had seemed so far off. He should have known better. The future always comes sooner than you think.
"Why?" Tomoyo asked, matching his tone. "I'm old enough. Why should we wait?"
Touya just looked at her for a second, wondering if perhaps this was still all a dream. "Are we really talking about this now? Right now, at damn two-twenty in the morning?" he replied, his tone turning weary but still a little annoyed. "Because if we are, I'm going to need some coffee. Lots of coffee."
He left the room, leaving Tomoyo to cast a dispirited glance at her suitcase before following him to the kitchen. She stood in the doorway and watched him scoop enough coffee into the pot to last the rest of the week. "I'm sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "If I'd known I was going to be such an imposition, I wouldn't have come."
He sighed and met her frosty gaze. "I'm sorry, too," he said, but his apology was sincere. He hadn't meant to snap at her. "Give me a few minutes to wake up, okay?" She nodded, and he gave her a tired smile before reaching into the cabinet for a mug. He cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her, and when she nodded again, he took a second mug and set them both on the counter. "I can be a grouch when I don't get enough sleep. That's something you should know before you marry me."
She brightened at his words. "Does that mean...?"
"No," he answered quickly with a shake of his head. "I'm not going to marry you, Tomoyo. At least, not yet."
Her face fell again. Any good feelings that had started to flow were immediately dampened by the reality of their situation. "So, that's it?" she asked. "You've already decided? God, you're just like my mother."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that you've gone ahead and decided everything for me without even hearing my side of it. And this isn't the first time."
Touya had no idea what she was talking about. "Just wait a second, okay?" he said impatiently, holding up a hand. She bit her lip but didn't say anything else. The strong, comforting scent of hot coffee filled the kitchen, and he pointed to the table. "Sit down, and I promise I'll listen to you. God knows I don't want to be compared to Sonomi-san." He muttered this last bit, but she caught it anyway, and her violet eyes narrowed at him. She's just like her mother, too.
Tomoyo slid into her usual chair, but she stared down at the tabletop when he set the mugs and carafe in front of her. He sat down across from her and poured coffee into both of their cups, but she still didn't move. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
She picked up her cup but didn't drink, instead letting it warm her hands. "I had a horrible fight with my mother," she said quietly. "If I'd known that you were going to tell her about us, I might have been better prepared."
The evening's events came back to him in a rush. "Oh." That explained why she was here. She'd run away from home. "I was just trying to do the right thing."
"The right thing would have been to discuss it with me first," she answered bitterly. "I need to have some control over what happens to me. I expect you of all people to understand that, Touya."
"I do," he reassured her.
She raised her head, but she wouldn't look at him. "It hurt," she said in a small, wounded voice, with her eyes fixed on the refrigerator. "You're supposed to be the one I can trust. And then you do this, and I...." She brought her eyes to his now, and they were clear and dry. "You should have told me."
"I know," he said. "I screwed up, and I'm sorry." He reached across the table, and she hesitated only briefly before taking his hand. "I should have been there with you. Was it that bad?"
"I don't know. It was a long time coming, I think. But you were the final straw, for obvious reasons."
Ouch. On the one hand, it was good that she'd finally stood up for herself, but he hated that he'd caused this rift between mother and daughter, however indirectly.
"But, anyway, after that, I just had to get out of there."
"How did you sneak out?"
She made a huffing sound. "I've lived in that house for a long time, and I know how things work. It was actually easier than I thought it would be. I guess no one ever thought I'd try it. Being a good girl has its rewards after all." The irony that pervaded her words didn't suit her. It made her sound hard and disillusioned.
"God, Tomoyo, I'm sorry," he said again. "This is my fault. Maybe if we'd told her together—"
Tomoyo laughed, but it was an empty sound. "It wouldn't have made any difference. Nothing can change her mind. I should know. She even said that I can't see you anymore. Can you believe that?"
"Yeah, I think I can." A thousand-watt bulb lit up in his head. The coffee had done its job. "That's why you want to get married?"
"It's the perfect solution," she replied with a plastic smile.
She sounded so convinced that Touya almost agreed. Maybe I need something stronger than coffee. "No, Tomoyo, it's not." He squeezed her hand before reluctantly letting go of it.
"Why not?" She pushed away her cup, and the cooling coffee sloshed over the rim. She trailed a finger through the puddle, drawing a thin brown trail along the tabletop. "Why don't you want to marry me?"
"It's not that," he corrected her. "I just don't think we're ready."
"There you go again. I'm never ready for anything, am I?" Tomoyo retorted crossly. "Not sex, not marriage—"
"I didn't say 'you,'" Touya interrupted, ignoring the first issue for the sake of his sanity. "I said 'we.' That means 'me,' too, you know. We've only been dating for three months. But since you brought it up, do you really think you're ready, after such a short time, to make a commitment like that?"
"I love you," she said in answer. Isn't that enough?
"And I love you, too," he replied. "But that doesn't mean we should rush into this. There's still a lot we don't know about each other. And there are things people should discuss before getting married."
"Like what?"
"Like... do we want to have children? And how many?" he improvised.
"Yes, and two," she responded confidently.
That was what he'd always imagined, too. "Okay. And what about money? How are we going to pay for you to go to university?"
"I have money."
"I'm not using your mother's money. No one is going to support us but us."
"Maybe I can get a part-time job while I go to school, like you did."
"Where are we going to live?"
"Here."
"It's pretty small."
"Then we'll find a bigger place, if we can afford it."
She was being too amenable. If things fell into place this easily, then he wouldn't have an argument. "Which side of the bed do you sleep on?" he asked, grasping for a point.
"The left."
"So do I. See, that's a problem."
"Not really," Tomoyo said with a nonchalant shrug. "I'll just be on top."
Touya choked on his coffee. When he stopped coughing, he wiped his watering eyes. "There's a mental image I didn't need right now."
She knew exactly what she'd said, but she just looked at him with the same clear, unflinching gaze. "That's all?" she asked. "Those are the only issues you can come up with?"
"At two-thirty in the morning, yes," he replied. "Not to mention the most obvious problem: that you're still young, and I'm still your teacher. It wouldn't be easy for us."
"Your parents did it," she reasoned. She'd thought about all this on the cab ride over. It had been about justifying her decision to herself. It was also the only argument she thought she'd need. "They were happy."
"And look how long it took for our families to make peace," he countered. "Do you want to put everyone through that again?"
She'd thought about that, too. "We already are," she said quietly.
Touya remembered the look of anger and disapproval on Sonomi's face when she threw him out. He could only imagine what else had happened after he left. She'd probably been waiting for an excuse to direct her barely suppressed fury at his father, and he'd given her one. Maybe the truce between the families was never strong enough to be more than temporary in the first place. "Point made," he conceded.
Tomoyo sighed and got up from the table, dumping the cooled contents of her mug into the sink. She found a dishtowel and was going to wipe up the spilled coffee, but she just twisted the towel anxiously in her hands. "So, what do we do now?" she asked.
"I don't know." He watched her restlessly wring the towel until it seemed that the weakened fibers were about to unravel. She was so focused on twisting it back and forth, as if she had emotional energy to burn and needed a physical release. It was a thin, frayed old dishcloth, but until he did laundry, it was the only clean one he had, and she was only a few twists away from rending it in two. "Give me the towel, Tomoyo," he said gently.
"No."
"Tomoyo...."
"It's mine," she said, sounding like a stubborn child refusing to give up her security blanket. She gave him a petulant pout, but something else flashed in her violet eyes. "I like it." Her lips twitched with an imperceptible trace of mischief.
Touya stood up and leaned his hands on the table. "Give it to me," he said with an almost menacing growl. His brown eyes flashed, too, daring her to defy him. But there was no malice there. More like... amusement. He knew what she was doing, and he was willing to play along.
She dangled the towel in front of him. "Do you want it?" she teased huskily.
"You know I do." His low voice promised danger, but when he tried to grab the towel, she snatched it away.
"Then come and get it."
She turned and ran out of the kitchen, and he was right behind her. Unfortunately for her, the apartment was too small for her to really get away. When he saw her head for the bathroom, he went into his bedroom instead, cutting her off as she came through the other door. She crashed into his chest, and he caught her in his arms.
She threw the towel over his shoulder in a pathetic attempt to distract him. "It's over there," she said, squirming unconvincingly in his grasp. "See?"
"Nice try, but I got what I wanted," Touya replied.
Tomoyo stopped wiggling and looked up at him with round, shining eyes. She felt her heart pound, and she thought he was going to kiss her, but he only pulled her closer and held her. She settled against him and let him stroke her hair. "That was pretty childish of me," she admitted sheepishly. "I just...."
"I understand," he said. "It was getting to me, too."
She slid her arms around his waist and sighed. "So far, seventeen isn't my favorite age. Does it get better?"
"I think it's about to." With his index finger gently prodding her chin, he lifted her face to his. She closed her eyes as their lips met, and she held onto him as if she would never let go.
The coffee-flavored kisses started slowly at first, just brief brushes back and forth. Each kiss led to another, lasting a little longer and growing a little hotter. He shoved his hands into her long hair and opened his mouth wide against hers, making her gasp at the sudden rise in passion. She found herself matching it, and then some. She wanted more. She always wanted more.
"I love you," he murmured between kisses.
"I love you," she answered breathlessly.
As their kisses continued, she felt the heat of desire uncoil like a charmed snake. It started in the pit of her stomach, circled around her heart, and then dropped heavily to someplace deep within her. The intensity was higher than it had ever been, and though it made her feel weak, it was exciting.
He was feeling the stirrings, too, only the warning lights that usually signaled such dangerous ground were conspicuously absent. He moved as close to her as he could get, running his hands up and down her back, tracing his fingers along the zipper of her dress. It was the wrong time, but then it always seemed to be the wrong time for them. If he kept waiting for the right time, it might never come.
His lips moved to her ear, and he felt her tremble as his warm breath made the curling tendrils of her lavender hair flutter. "If you're going to say no, say it now," he whispered, "because I don't think I'll be able to stop."
She froze, just for a second, as she realized what he was asking. "Does that mean you think I'm finally ready?" she said, almost teasingly.
He put his hand on her cheek, forcing her to look up at him. His eyes were dark, and his expression was completely serious. "Do you think you're ready?"
Maybe she'd never truly be ready. But she knew that she loved him, and that was all that mattered right now. When she nodded, he smiled at her, caressing her cheek with the tips of his fingers. He kissed her again, and she all but purred as his fingers trailed down to her neck, and then lower, skimming along the bodice of her dress.
"But, you know," Tomoyo whispered shakily, trying to take her mind off the feeling of nervous anticipation that was making her body hum. "I always imagined a room filled with flowers. A girl should have flowers." He was tugging at her sleeve, exposing her skin to his lips, and her breath caught in her throat as his mouth brushed over her bared shoulder.
"Mmm, flowers," Touya repeated absently. His other hand slid up her back and found the zipper's tab on her dress, pulling it down slowly.
There was a sudden chill against her flushed skin as her purple birthday dress dropped to the ground. "And candles, too." Why was she still talking?
"Next time," he murmured, hoping to God that there would be a next time. The t-shirt he'd put on earlier joined her dress on the floor.
"And there should be music. There's no music." Her words came out as a gasp as he lowered her onto his bed.
"There will be if I do this right," he answered, and when she opened her mouth to respond, he kissed her in a way that sent every single thought out of her head.
-----
Tomoyo remained absolutely still, half-awake and half-asleep, as her languid body lay curled against Touya's. With her head on his chest, she could hear his heart beating in a comforting rhythm. Though physically she was tired, her mind was racing, replaying everything that had just happened. It was an experience she'd waited a lifetime for, one that had lasted a lifetime itself, and now it was suddenly all over.
She felt closer to him than ever before, and she knew that things would never be the same again. But their relationship would only be stronger. She couldn't imagine sharing this with anyone else. Every part of her was his, and no one could ever possess her as completely as he did.
She didn't want to move, to disturb the peaceful haze that had settled over them. But her legs shifted restlessly beneath the sheet, and she whimpered at the ache that pulsed between them.
His hand had been resting low on her hip, and when it gave her a tender squeeze, she realized he was awake, too. "Sore?" he asked softly.
"A little," she whispered back. The idyll was shattered, all because of a little pain. She'd just wanted to sleep in his arms until morning, when they'd get dressed and catch the train to somewhere, anywhere, to register their marriage and have a special wedding dinner. That was what was going to happen now, wasn't it?
"I'm sorry," he said. "It will be better next time."
Tomoyo shook her head emphatically as she leaned up to look at him. "It's not that. It was fine. Really."
"It was fine?" Touya repeated dryly. He rolled his eyes. "Great. That's just what every guy wants to hear."
She knew he was teasing her, and she smiled warmly at him. "It was beautiful," she whispered.
"Yes, it was." He returned her smile and lovingly tucked a lavender curl behind her ear. They kissed, and she settled down against him again with a contented heart.
Silence filled the room again, but it wasn't the same as before. Tomoyo nestled against Touya and lightly brushed her fingers over his chest, but when he didn't respond to her touches, she could tell that he was distracted. His body had stiffened, and it felt like he was slowly withdrawing from the moment. After a long pause, he let out a deep sigh. "We should get dressed."
She sat up, clutching the sheet to her with unnecessary modesty. "Why?" she asked, trying to keep panic out of her voice. She knew something was wrong. A switch had been flicked, changing the mood in the room instantly.
It seemed like an eternity before he spoke again. "You can't stay here, Tomoyo."
The world stopped spinning, and she hung on for dear life, afraid she might fall off the edge. "Why not?" She couldn't keep the tremble out of her voice this time. She clutched the sheet tighter, using it as a shield against whatever was coming.
He didn't look at her and instead stared up at the ceiling. "This is the first place your mother will look for you, and if she finds out that you came here, and that we...." He sat up, too, but the sheet stayed loosely draped over his lap. "She can't find you here. If you don't want to go home, you can probably stay with Sakura. I'll take you over there."
This wasn't happening. He was supposed to marry her now. Wasn't that why they had... because why would he make love to her if he didn't intend to marry her? "No," she said.
He sighed again and got out of bed, walking around to the other side where he'd left his clothes. "We don't have time for this, Tomoyo." His voice was unyielding and condescending. She watched in disbelieving silence as he pulled on his shorts and found a pair of socks in the dresser. "Get up," he ordered. "You can clean yourself up in the bathroom, but I'm only giving you ten minutes, and then we're leaving, whether you're ready or not."
No, this couldn't be happening. Maybe she'd accidentally slipped into some alternate reality. Why is he acting this way? "Touya," she pleaded.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on her knee. His expression softened, but it was clear that he had made up his mind and would not be swayed. "Get up," he said gently. "Please."
Her grasp on the sheet loosened, and it fell down to her waist. "I don't understand," she said, searching his brown eyes. "Touya?"
"Ten minutes," he repeated.
She grabbed his arm when he tried to stand up. "Talk to me," she begged. "What's wrong?"
Touya looked down at her hand and linked it with his own before meeting her gaze. "We have to stop seeing each other for a while," he said. "Until your mother can accept me, we have to play by her rules."
"But—"
"It's the only way right now."
"But, if we get married—"
"She threatened my job," Touya explained bluntly. "How would I support you without a damn job? How would I support myself?"
Tomoyo yanked her hand away from his grasp. "So, your job is more important to you than I am?"
"Of course not," he answered. "Be reasonable, Tomoyo."
No matter how old she was, everyone was always going to treat her like a child and tell her what to do. "Fine, I'll be reasonable," she snapped, climbing out of bed. She went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
When she finished dressing, she found him in the living room, sitting on the sofa with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He was wearing jeans and his Seijou t-shirt, and a black jacket was draped over the arm of the sofa. Her anger vanished as her heart clenched to see him looking so dejected, and she knew this decision had to be tearing him apart. It almost made her forgive him for this.
"I can't stay with Sakura-chan," she said, making him look up. "I don't think I can face her right now." She didn't know how Sakura had taken the news, and she wasn't in the mood to explain the whole story. And being with Touya's sister would only remind her of him.
Touya stood up and went to her. "You understand, don't you? This is for the best."
"It's for the best," Tomoyo answered, not claiming to understand at all.
He pulled her into his arms and held her. She resisted at first, and then put her arms around him, burying her face against his shoulder and clinging to him desperately. After several minutes, they left together without a word, and the clicking of the front door echoed in the silent apartment.
-----
The buzzing doorbell echoed in the silent apartment, and Syaoran muttered every curse word he knew. It wasn't bad enough to be so rudely awakened in the middle of the night. He knew he'd have to get up and answer the door, because Wei was attending to family business back in Hong Kong, and because Meiling, when she so chose, could sleep like the dead.
The digital clock on the nightstand mockingly displayed the time in big, green numbers. Four-thirty. If this was some stupid little kid playing a prank, Syaoran would not be held responsible for any physical harm that came to the child. He dragged himself out of bed and left his room, shooting a heated glare at Meiling's door as he made his way down the hall.
For a split-second he wished he'd brought his sword with him, maybe to scare a little common courtesy into the punk, until he saw the person standing on the doorstep. "Daidouji?"
Tomoyo's face was streaked with falling tears, but before Syaoran could ask what was wrong, she threw herself into his arms. He held her awkwardly, patting her on the back as she sniffled against his pajama top. The cool night air breezed in through the open door, and he felt Tomoyo shiver against him. But that might have just been her body shaking from crying. He tried to kick the door shut, but he couldn't quite make his ankle turn that way without permanently remaining in that position.
"Syaoran? What's going—?"
Tomoyo let go of him suddenly and lunged toward something behind him. Either Meiling was sleepwalking, or she'd miraculously woken up on her own and discovered that she could indeed get out of bed before noon on a Sunday. Or else he was dreaming, because this was the damned strangest thing that had happened in a long time.
Now Tomoyo was clinging to Meiling, and she was sobbing in earnest. Meiling hugged her tightly, cooing gentle words to her and casting curious glances at Syaoran, who could only shrug.
"It's okay, Tomoyo-chan," Meiling said soothingly. "It's okay."
The other girl was shaking her head furiously. "I think we broke up," she sobbed.
Meiling exchanged another look with Syaoran and then jerked her head toward the door. She kept an arm around her distraught friend and continued whispering words of comfort as she led her away.
Syaoran noticed Tomoyo's abandoned suitcase sitting in the doorway, and as he picked it up, something niggled at his magic sense. It was a familiar presence—the aura of one who used to have magic but no longer did. There was just an echo of the old power, like the far-reaching light of a star that had burned out long ago.
A scowl automatically crossed his face as he went out to the walkway and looked down at the street. Touya was standing on the sidewalk, looking back up at the building. He seemed to be waiting to make sure Tomoyo was all right, and Syaoran, temporarily ignoring how he personally felt about Touya, nodded in confirmation. He saw Touya's shoulders slump in relief, and the older man nodded back at him, then raised his hand as if to say thanks.
Syaoran took the suitcase inside and set it outside Meiling's room. He rapped a quick knock on her door, and then went back to his own room, crawling into bed and speculating about what had happened rather than resuming his interrupted sleep.
-----
When Touya returned home, the apartment had never felt so unwelcoming and confining. This was the last place he wanted to be right now. The air was filled with imaginary voices calling him everything he'd called himself for the past half hour. They weren't going to leave him alone, but he accepted his punishment. Because he deserved it.
Maybe he should have agreed to marry Tomoyo. There was a part of him that wanted to, despite his protestations that it was too soon. It would have been so easy to go to the courthouse and fill out the paperwork. Not very romantic, but he could have made it up to her by taking her someplace special during their next school break. And if they were married, they could be together, and no one could say anything about it. In a way, she had been right. It was the perfect solution.
Only, it wasn't.
And he should have explained why.
Everything he'd said was true. He'd given her plenty of good reasons why they couldn't get married right now. But he hadn't told her the most important reason.
His mother had been disowned when she married without her family's approval. There was every chance that Sonomi would threaten to do the same to Tomoyo. And he couldn't let that happen.
Because then Tomoyo would have to choose. What was more important to her? Right now, while she was so upset with Sonomi, she wanted to choose him. But she was only thinking about the immediate future. Her judgment was too clouded by her emotions to sensibly consider the consequences. Marrying him now could destroy her relationship with her mother, and eventually, that would cause an irreparable rift between them, too. Once she had thought about it, really thought about it, she'd realize why he couldn't put her in that position. Why he wouldn't make her choose between him and her mother.
But if they were patient, things would eventually work out. They had to.
Touya sighed and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed... again. As he stood in the doorway, brushing his teeth—again—his eyes fixed on the rumpled bedsheets. Maybe that had been a mistake, too. He'd wanted to prove to Tomoyo that he was committed to her, even if they had to be apart for a while.
And now he was going to be haunted by how it had felt to be with her. Every moment came flooding back to him, from the excitement of exploring the enticing curves of her body, to the beautiful glow in her violet eyes as she experienced pure physical pleasure for the first time, to the overwhelming sense of completion he'd found by being a part of her. Maybe it had been a mistake, but he'd never regret making love to her.
But that didn't stop him from yanking the sheets off the bed. He threw them into the laundry basket and grabbed his pillow. There was no way he could sleep here.
He stretched out on the living room sofa and closed his eyes, waiting for mental and physical exhaustion to give him a reprieve from his thoughts, but it was no use. He lay awake until long past sunrise, hoping he hadn't been stupid enough to lose both his job and the woman he loved in the same night.
-----
I don't think this counts as a cliffhanger, but I'm sure some of you will feel differently. Thanks, as always, for reading, and please, as always, drop me a review if you have the time.