Well, if anyone's still reading this...you sure are persistent . But, you know, that's how inspiration and whatnot goes .-
"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Daidouji." The baggage clerk apologized profusely, wringing his hands. "It seems as though your luggage was rerouted to Madagascar."
Tomoyo flipped quickly through her Italian-Japanese dictionary, trying to piece together what the man just said. She managed to make out 'luggage' and 'lost' before she understood. "Very well." She sighed, pulling out a piece of paper. "Please bring them here when they arrive."
The clerk took the paper and nodded quickly, bowing awkwardly.
The violet haired girl sat down in the middle of the crowded airport, trying to gather her wits. "Okay...so my luggage is lost. No big deal, at least I still have my purse." Tomoyo thought. Her purse. A gift from Sakura...
"Stop this." She reprimanded herself. "This is supposed to be a trip of healing, not of remembering. Not right now..." Tomoyo stood up, and gracefully walked out of the airport.
Hailing the first taxi she could find in halting Italian, Tomoyo paid the driver in advance, and sat down wearily in the back of the cab.
Half an hour later they were speeding through the countryside, now clear of the urban sprawl. It was then that Tomoyo looked out the window, and saw the beautiful Italian countryside once more. As a child, she had joined her mother on several business trips to this country, and she remembered fondly the effect the atmosphere had on her. It was where she had first discovered painting, and how much she loved it. It was also there where she had picked up her limitied knowledge of the Italian language. She leaned back, closing her eyes and remembering her first time to this beautiful country.
"Miss Tomoyo, remember, we have to be back at the hotel by six pm to meet your mother for dinner." One of the dark haired girl's bodyguards reminded her.
"Hai, I know. I just want to see what's around here." Tomoyo replied, before continuing to walk down the cobblestone street. She smiled at the other people walking down the street, who returned her smile with worried glances. She sighed. Being followed around by bodyguards all the time could give people such a bad impression.
Turning down a side street, the sight of the simple country life, children playing in the street, mothers hanging laundry out on the line, fathers reclining in chairs on porches, languishing in the evening sun; this must be where peace comes from.
"Stop!" Tomoyo froze, as the voice was so insistent. She looked behind her, and saw a young woman approaching her. A long, brown coat, violet sweater, red scarf, and blue beret adorned her, and she carried at her side a large, black bag.
"Yes, can I help you?" Tomoyo asked, turning to face the stranger.
"Umm, I have a favor to ask, if it's not too much trouble." The figure said, reaching into her black bag.
Tomoyo was instantly surrounded by three menacing bodyguards in black suits. The woman took a step back in worry.
"Hold on a minute." Tomoyo sighed. "It's okay, I'm fine." She said to her three protectors, who grudgingly stepped out of her way. Tomoyo walked up to the woman. "I'm very sorry; they follow me wherever I go; it really does get to be bothersome." She signed once more, more exasperated than last time.
The woman put her hand to her lips, giggling. "It's alright...you just don't normally see people being escorted by bodyguards in this area. You also don't see such beautiful girls."
Tomoyo felt the faint tint of a blush at her cheeks.
"Anyway...I just have to ask, if you have the I please paint your picture?"
"Paint...me?"
"Sure..." the artist replied, taking out an easel and canvas. "...that is, if you have the time, Miss..."
"Tomoyo, that's my name...and if half an hour is enough time, then by all means, go ahead."
"It'll have to do...you're just too cute a model to pass up!" the woman exclaimed, rummaging through her black bag. "You need something more, though...a certain prop..." She looked through the bag for several minutes longer, before becoming fed up. "Argh, where is it?!" she growled, hastily dumping everything on the road. Balls, hats, gloves, and other odds and ends scattered onto the street. Finally, she spied what she wanted.
"Here, hold this, with your hands just as such..." the woman instructed, handing Tomoyo a white umbrella adorned with white ribbons and pearls.
"Oh....this is beautiful!" Tomoyo exclaimed. She twirled with the umbrella, her light violet dress catching the wind and flaring up gracefully.
"Not as beautiful as you, my dear." The artist smiled, setting up her easel and canvas. "Now, I just need you to find a pose and hold it."
Tomoyo stopped her twirling, coming to rest holding the umbrella with both hands, back to the artist, gently glancing over her shoulder. "How's this?"
"Perfect! Now just hold that pose, my angel."
Tomoyo blushed again. No one had ever complimented her on her looks the way this woman had been.
While she painted, the woman told Tomoyo all about Italy. All about the places to go, the things to do, and the sights to see.
"Do you paint...for a living?" Tomoyo asked.
"For a living..." the woman laughed. "Well, I do try, dear. I only moved here a year ago myself, and the local arts community is slow to accept newcomers, especially those as young as me."
"How old are you?"
"17...and, no, I didn't run away from home, if that's what you're wondering."
"Oh, no!" Tomoyo assured her. "I was just wondering why you came here, of all places. You do seem to love it..."
"Yes, yes I do love it. I guess, I don't know..." the woman's brush strokes stopped for a few moments. "It's like...in order to forget one thing you loved, you have to fill your life with another thing you love...and hope the latter is enough to fill the void the former left."
"Oh..." was all Tomoyo could manage. This sounded all too familiar.
"Ah, I'm sorry! I didn't ask you to be my therapist or anything, I just have this habit of sharing way too much with people who I've only just met!" the woman giggled, continuing to paint.
"It's alright, I don't mind." Tomoyo said. "It sounds like...you loved this person a great deal."
The woman smiled faintly. "You're probably the most perceptive child I've ever met...how'd you know that?"
Tomoyo smiled, a different sort of smile this time, and the woman noticed the change in her facial features. Almost a sad, wistful smile. "I have a friend...who went through the same thing." She admitted, and it wasn't a lie. Though, it wasn't the whole truth, either.
"If you don't mind my asking, how old are you, miss Tomoyo?"
"13."
"Ah...well, I'm just about finished with the first draft here, but if you'd like, you could come by and look at the final version tomorrow." She looked at her watch. "Yes, you should get going before you're late for dinner."
"How'd you know about that?"
"I have good ears." The woman giggled. "Anyway, come by this address tomorrow evening, if you're free!" She handed Tomoyo a piece of paper with a scribbled address on it. Tomoyo started to hand the umbrella back to the woman, who politely put up her hand. "It's supposed to rain tomorrow...little angels shouldn't get wet."
"Ah...thank you, miss..."
The woman fell over. "Oh dear, I'm so rude! Forgive me, my name is Takano Kiisha!"
"Hai, miss Kiisha, tomorrow it is, then!" Tomoyo smiled, twirling the umbrella in her hands and skipping down the street.
Takaro looked on, giggling as the bodyguards followed the violet haired girl at a distance.
"It's...it's beautiful!" Tomoyo gasped, blushing.
"Aww...it's not that great." Takano insisted.
Tomoyo stared in awe. The lifelikeness of the image, the way Takaro made the light and shadows dance off her fluttering dress, the way the umbrella gently cast a shadow on her pale face. She was going to be something wonderful some day. The picture. It made Tomoyo want to...
"Excuse me...I'm sorry, I don't want to be a bother...but do you think I could...try?" Tomoyo ventured
"Try? You mean...you want to paint?" Takano asked.
The younger girl nodded vehemently.
"Sure...you mean right now?"
Tomoyo nodded once more. She couldn't describe the feeling that was taking over her. It was...unreal.
"Here, then." Takano cheerfully set up an easel and canvas for Tomoyo, and handed her her paints and brushes. "You get started, and I'll go get another for myself."
"Thank...thank you." Tomoyo gasped. She looked around, taking in the beauty of the area for the first time. It really was a simple life...much more simple than her own, and she absolutely adored that. Brush met paint, then canvas. Despite being a novice, the blank canvas did not scare the violet haired girl. She had an image in her mind, or at least a person...now she just needed an ensemble to go with.
"Ah..." Tomoyo thought. Long, brown coat, red scarf, violet sweater, blue beret...she hoped Takano wouldn't mind. It was such a cute outfit, after all.
"Miss Tomoyo, I meant to ask you...where did you get that beautiful dress you were wearing yesterday?"
"I made it."
"You made it? That beautiful dress?!"
Tomoyo smiled again, her wistful smile. "I've had a lot of practice."
Takano stole a sideways glance at Tomoyo's painting. Emerald eyes, peach skin...a large smile. "You seem to have a natural talent for this!"
"Thank you." Tomoyo shifted momentarily. "Do you think...I could see some more of your paintings later?"
"My paintings? Well, sure, I guess. My place is really really really messy though, I have to warn you. I just haven't had time to clean up, and I've been so busy lately..." Takano rambled on.
Tomoyo giggled. "It's alright, I don't mind."
Tomoyo smiled gently. "I was at her apartment until 11 pm that night, and Mother was furious by the time I returned to the hotel." She thought for a moment. "I wonder if Takano's still around..." She felt the taxi roll to a stop, and was shaken from her daydream. She stepped out of the cab, and looked over her new home. An old apartment building, though she would prefer the term 'rustic', certainly far under what she could spend on rent.
"But...this suits me, somehow." Tomoyo thought, smiling a bit. "A new start...for a new life."
She stepped forward, and continued walking towards the apartment entrance, each step trying to take her into the future, yet still burdened with the experiences of the past. She knew it wouldn't be that way forever, though.