(disclaimer): CCS is owned by CLAMP.


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Office Days and Mothers Not Behaving

Sauntering into the ninth floor production office, Tomoyo Daidouji graced the personnel with her radiating beauty… Well, more or less she scampered off the elevator shaft looking rather flustered but beautiful none the less. She dressed simply in a coordinating dark pin stripped woman's suit with matching heels. Her hair was still gorgeous and long, trailing down her back in a French braid.

The office secretary, Miki, gave Tomoyo a grateful look. Behind the secretary's desk, through two stained glass doors, a full conference was in motion—but they were missing one significant person: Daidouji.

"Just in time, Tomoyo," Miki said as the tall director walked past the desk. Tomoyo's pearly teeth glittered, "Aren't I always?" she started while juggling several portfolios.

A counter full of unhealthy breakfast foods stood nearby, and Tomoyo chose a glazed donut from an open box. She looked at the coffee machine wishfully, but her hands were already full as it were. "You're looking well today Miki. How is the baby doing?"

Miki patted her stomach gingerly and blushed, "Three weeks and still healthy."

Tomoyo took a big bite of donut, "It's amazing, a month in, and still keeping that figure!"

"Hey," Miki grinned, "I'm not packing down donuts like the rest, but you still manage to keep a size three." She gave Tomoyo's body an envious nod before she rang the office. "Kumai-san? Daidouji has just entered the office. Would you like me to send her in?"

"Dozo. Please." A curt voice answered. Tomoyo shoved the rest of the sweet dough into her mouth then wiping her sticky fingers against the inside hem of her suit.

Tomoyo gave Miki's desk a confidant pat then pulled open the doors. Several executives looked up from their leather seats around the monstrous table. A few younger men dressed casually, their hair rumpled as if they had just woken. One of these men, who had been standing in front, came around the table to her.

"Kumai," she nodded, and he gently touched the small of her back, ushering her forward. "Daidouji-san! So glad you could make it," he said through clenched teeth, "we were just discussing the finishing plans of filming time."

"Oh, yes." Tomoyo ran ahead and dropped her portfolio on the table.

"Daidouji." An executive addressed from his chair, "What do you say to our budget proposal and set release date? We believe February is a reasonable."

"That's just to get what's filmed to the editors, right?" Tomoyo sorted through the stacks of papers, wisps of hair falling over her framed face. "Seven months for shooting, three for effects and revision?"

"Correct." Another said.

"Well, I suppose that will do. We'll need a bigger budget though, our requested actors won't settle for last offer."

"And who are these actors?" The third man said, his suit clinging to his big body mass. "What wages do they want settlement for?"

"Kinomoto Sakura." Tomoyo immediately responded, her best friend coming first to mind. Sakura had been nearly dragged by Tomoyo into the entertainment industry. Her kawaii looks easily got her into a wealthy modeling agency. "I believe it is fair, considering the scheduling of her model runs. She's earned more yen in other productions."

"And who else?"

Tomoyo sighed, a pained look on her face, "Several other celebrities which we are having trouble contacting. Our main lead, Thomas, hasn't returned from Switzerland yet. But his personal Japanese agent contacted us and reminded our producer that he'd requested a bit more."

"Thank you Daidouji." Setsuya Kumai interrupted. He ran his fingers across his buzz cut. His hair bristling against the skin. Tomoyo had to hold back laughter, Sakura herself had always said he looked like Japanese monkey. It was not an exaggeration.

Setsuya continued briefing the executives on budget, while Tomoyo found her thoughts flowing elsewhere. In particular, Setsuya Kumai.

Luckily, she observed him walked around the conference table, it wasn't his looks that Tomoyo had eventually loved him for. The two had worked together before on film productions. Setsuya was a wonderful screenwriter and Tomoyo was the lovely and willing director. This made them wonderfully compatible. A year had gone since they had started dating.

Fresh out of junior college, Tomoyo had first gone to directing, a position where she felt free to express her most beloved passion. Filming Sakura. Since Sakura had become the Mistress of the Clow, there was nothing left for Tomoyo. Sure, she captured shots when they went to Hong Kong to visit Syaoran. The day he returned to Japan with a wedding proposal for Sakura, was also memory caught on camera. Unfortunately, she was kicked out of the room by Syaoran when he did the actually proposing.

For three years, Tomoyo had accomplished two major movies featuring Sakura-chan and this would be her third. Excited as she was, Tomoyo couldn't help but feel that same lonely adoration she had for the girl so many years ago.

"Daidouji-san?" A voice echoed a recess of her mind until it brought her back to room, and Setsuya was addressing her. "Pardon?" Tomoyo gave Setsuya a tired look, this meeting was slowly killing her, minute by hour. "We were wondering if you wished to inform us on plot changes you noted?" He gestured then took a seat in the president chair. "If there are any, we need them before shooting begins."

"Right," Tomoyo murmured and turned with a small apologetic smile. "The first couple are inconsequential, and can be easily changed while directing takes place. However, the screenwriter and I were consulting whether or not a different ending should be written."

"I believed the original was just fine," Setsuya cut in with a frown, "I don't see why this story can't be told as most people know it by." He gave a low growl, his pride slightly wounded by her suggestion.

"Yes," Tomoyo frowned back. She wondered what made Setsuya be such a pain whenever the held meetings with other people. "Everyone know this story as the heavenly being who came down to earth to bath in a certain spring..." She waved a slim hand about, "and a local merchant steals her robes so she cannot return to heaven. He convinces her to marry him, but this myth does not really have a told ending."

"Yes, go on." One executive gestured, but Tomoyo doubted he had even been listening to her at all.

"Well," Tomoyo said, "I think we should alter our ending." That was all she had and Tomoyo realized she hadn't given this idea much thought before the conference.

"Any thoughts?" Setsuya asked. He obviously was not in favor. A plot change meant more conferences like this and plenty disputes between the director and screenwriter. Meaning, no more staying nights at Tomoyo's apartment.

One older man nodded, giving Tomoyo an understanding look, "I'm in favor," he said, "I read the original screenplay and I think a different ending will be more profitable for a good box office hit." The other two men murmured words in agreement.

So it was settled. Tomoyo sank back into the leather chair, grateful that things seemed to be working right until Setsuya broke up the conversations with news that destroyed her mood.

"However," he said, "Since Miyazaki has left for another filming job in China, we're going to need a new producer."

Stillness stretched over many seconds and all rubbed their temples. This was going to be a long meeting.

>>

Tomoyo feverishly dropped her purse onto the small table. The table shook and the two coffee cups which sat there, quivered at the sudden disturbance.

Setsuya Kumai, who was presently sitting at the table, looked up into two very cold and unfriendly eyes. "Tomoyo dear, you're here early." He gestured toward the seat opposite of him, a forthcoming smiled played on his lips.

Tomoyo considered cursing him with two words not often uttered, but her tiredness overwhelmed and she sat down. "A new producer?" She breathed heavily.

Setsuya gave her a curious look, "What? You need a paper-bag to breathe in or something?"

"Setsuya-kun, how could you do this to me? You never told me Miyazaki-san left for China!"

"And when did I have time to tell you?"

Tomoyo gaped, "Yesterday!" She flew her purse up and it fell back onto the table with a successful smack. "You were at my apartment all night!"

"Dear," Setsuya frowned, "I hardly think its appropriate to go over production notes while we're in the middle of having…"

Tomoyo hissed and craned her neck toward him, "You know what I mean…" She couldn't believe he was about to bring their bedroom activities up in a bustling café. In downtown Tokyo, for God's sake!

"Alright." Setsuya rubbed his neck. There was a slight pain there, almost matching the present one in his ass. "Setsuya…" Tomoyo warned. "We can't schedule time to make a revised ending and hunt down a new producer!"

Setsuya's eyes darkened, "I don't really understand what's so wrong with my ending." He said defensively, "Do you just suddenly hate my writing now?"

"No, of course not." She reached across the table to give her boyfriend's hand a pat.

"Then why?" He pressed onward the unsettled argument. "Can't you just be content with this?"

"I don't think so." Tomoyo slowly said, her teeth catching slightly on her lower lip, "This has been nagging me for days, Setsuya dear! I'm sorry."

Setsuya leaned forward and cupped her chin with his free hand, "Hey. Forget it. I'll… I will talk to the board about posting Producer interviews for Thursday." He gave her shoulder a reassuring rub and then settled back into the wicker chair. He sipped the coffee slowly, a look of frustration and exhaustion set in grim expression.

He hates me now, Tomoyo sighed, but I can't help wanting this so bad! Making a last minute change to the ending was going to dent easily into her relationship with Setsuya. At times, he seemed so bitter and too involved with the stream of life to fall in love… Then again—Tomoyo reached up and felt where he had lovingly cupped her jaw—maybe he wasn't.

>>

The doorbell rang several times before Sonomi thought to answer it. On such a gorgeous day, it was rare to see the Lady Daidouji in the house, but today she wanted to work in the home office. She opened the door to find a disgruntled Tomoyo standing placidly on the doormat.

"Mother." Tomoyo sighed, "Why would anyone lock the door in the middle of the afternoon?"

Sonomi ushered her daughter inside the house and shut the door behind her. "Don't ask me," She dismissed the subject, "I thought the maid was going to answer the door. Where is the maid, anyway?"

"Maternity leave." The answer came from Tomoyo who slipped out of her sandals and threw her purse on a marble counter. "She's having a baby."

"Oh yes," Sonomi cocked her head while pondering, "I thought your secretary was having a baby…"

"She is." Tomoyo grumbled, "Miki's having a baby in eight months, and your maid's still on leave." She scurried past her mother into the kitchen, calling behind her, "Everyone's having a baby, except for me!"

On that note, Sonomi scampered after her daughter and stopped at the kitchen door, "You would need to marry Setsuya first." She pointed out rather sarcastically.

Tomoyo had been rummaging in the refrigerator, and pulled her head above the bottom door. She held a carton of milk in one hand and carrot in the other. "What makes you think I want a baby with Setsuya?"

"What?" Her mother asked incredibly, "Is something wrong? Are you unhappy with Kumai-san?"

"No, no." She was obviously tired and really didn't want to explain this to her mother. Who, after all, left Tomoyo's father having finding out she was pregnant.

"Oh. Come here Tomoyo." Sonomi got up and wrapped her arms around her, and Tomoyo held up the glass of milk out of the way.

Tomoyo gave a small smile, "Mother. I'm fine." She gave a small laugh when Sonomi slowly let go, "I'm only in Tokyo. You can visit me anytime you want to."

"That's what I'm worried about." Sonomi sighed. "I don't want you to be alone."

It was a touching moment. One of those mother-daughter scenes where both felt as if they finally understood each other. Tomoyo gulped down the rest of the milk, sharing a secret smile with Sonomi. "Hey," she said, "I still have Sakura-chan."

"Ooh! Sakura-chan!" Her mother burst into a fit, "How is she? Is the wedding plans arranged? Has she started looking for a dress? I want to help? LET ME HELP? Oh! They should have the wedding here, in Tomoeda! By the way, where is that Chinese boy taking her for the honeymoon. Do they need money?" She bustled out of the kitchen, into the next room, still throwing her delicate arms about with excitement.

Tomoyo watched her mother, wondering how she had ever coped with her strange antics. She remembered all too well, the day when she was forced to explain she couldn't use the company toys anymore. She had grown up. They had all grown up. She dazed off into this thought… Sakura-chan, Li-kun, Meiling and even Keroberos wasn't the same anymore. Tomoyo missed Tomoeda and she missed taping Sakura-chan capturing clow cards.

"I still have Sakura-chan," she reminded herself. Tomoyo bit off the carrot and chew gradually, "Don't I?"

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notes: thank you—not applicable, Sakura-Star-66, KyteAura and Dana Daidouji—for reviewing! It means wonders to my broken soul… The movie plot is going to be a rendition of an old world-known story. If you have read Ayashi no Ceres, that manga is primarily based on the tale.