Disclaimer: CLAMP owns CCS.
this chapter is still undergoing revision. I'm sorry for the inconvenience this may have caused you, but I have no idea how to rewrite the other half of this chapter. Eep. English is my second language, and suggestions for improvements or comments are always welcome.insignia
Tomoyo was not speaking to Kyo. It was not because she was still furious with him; it was because he was going to England today, and she felt that an inexplicable silence was appropriate. She hated saying goodbyes, really, but she did not always loathe them. She supposed her hate budded when her Father was off overseas that one time, but somehow as he said Now, Tomoyo, let me go, I'll return soon and gave her his favorite pen—as if it was a pot of gold waiting at the other end of a rainbow—she knew that her Father would not come back. He never did. The space her Father left behind was void until Kyo came along. Thus, she was troubled that Kyo would do what her Father did to her, and she could not bear it if he did. Perhaps it was a silly defensive pessimism, but she could not live without it, without him. So, when Kyo picked her up that morning and said hello, she said hi back, went straight to his car and got in as Kyo followed her, confused.
Kyo's chauffeur drove them to the airport and poor Kyo was still confused, as he could not think of anything else to say; she was so quiet, quiet. When he inquired her if there something was bothering her, Tomoyo said a short answer and went back staring at the window. He thought that goodbyes were succinct and dulcet, but apparently, her way was different; while he brooded, Tomoyo took in the scenes as they passed by stoplights and freeways, the horizon ahead them wide and scattering like grass clippings. He thought that the ride to the airport was taking excruciatingly long but about twenty minutes later, the chauffeur parked the car in a crammed space, hopped out of his seat and was going to unlock the door for Kyo and Tomoyo. However, the chauffeur did not even get an attempt to do what he was allegedly going to do as Kyo immediately got out of the backseat before Tomoyo did.
He gave the chauffeur a tip and took Tomoyo's hand; the airport was a walking distance, and they mingled naturally with the crowd as if they were silvery sardines, the sky overhead dazzling bruised blue, as if it was sketching their dreams. He and Tomoyo were a blur of purple and brown as they headed down to the observation deck, their shoes sucking up on the marble tiles and then the plain stony concrete of the airport. They swerved to their right and went to the direction where they heard a plane landed, growling and reverberating like a starving lion.
Kyo sighed as they saw the plane, Japan Airlines, the one that was off to London, England; it was his father's plane; they owned the airport. But one look at the dark-haired girl beside him and he thought he would give it away so he could be with her, and so he said, "You know, Tomoyo-chan," he told her subtly, "It's not as though I'm going to march to my Death in London. I have yet to marry you and everything." What he really held back from saying was you are being unfair. Please talk to me.
Tomoyo, perceptive as she was, knew what he did not say. She inclined her head, her mouth crinkling, sheepish. She was being selfish, wasn't she? "I know that," she said, and wickedly she went, "but Li-kun doesn't. Could you kindheartedly not tell him that you won't perish anytime soon—to ease his mind, that is?"
Kyo tried not to think of ramming a stake in Li's possibly hairy chest as he grinned roguishly at her. He placed a hand over his heart gingerly, and said, "No, I certainly won't comfort Li. Li and I are over, remember?"
Tomoyo fluttered her lashes. "Is that so?" she said suggestively, nudging him in the ribs, "Well, thank Kami-sama for that. I thought that you were two-timing me with him."
Kyo rubbed his arm as she said this; he had the look of revulsion about him. "That's just disgusting, love," he told her with a scrunched face, "Li and I would never work. Besides," he went on, pecking her on the cheek, "I already have you."
Tomoyo's laughter rang round the observation deck, and heads turned at that chiming sound, a look of awe on their faces as they saw a stunning dark-haired girl giving an almost teasing smile at her equally handsome companion. Tomoyo tried to disregard the whistles and whispers, flustered, as one old woman in a flowery-printed silk skirt and black dress shirt trudged by, saying, my, what a beautiful girl.
Kyo was complacent. "Huh," he said, "I'm a lucky guy, aren't I?" He had been flattering Tomoyo with waxed poetry about her features before they had began dating, but she did not entirely believe them.
Tomoyo was self-conscious as she detected a flicker of I-told-you-so in Kyo's voice. He continued, confident, "I think I deserve something for that."
Tomoyo shot him a mock-dirty look. "Really," she said. Her eyes were purple and wispy as she went on, "Well, I do have something for you." She paused, and rummaged her bag with one hand, while the other held him for balance. She pulled out a small item from her bag. "Here you go," she said at last, "I hope you would like it," she added timidly as she held it out to him. It was a simple box, about the size of his palm, swathe with a pastel-colored paper and two perfect ribbons on the front and the rear of the package; there was a handmade card attached to it.
"Thanks, love," said Kyo, accepting the gift with gratitude. He prodded it with a finger, subconsciously examining it as to what was in it; according to its size and weight, it was probably a diskette—an online scrapbook. He untied the two ribbons and plucked out the card to read it aloud: "Kyo-kun, may your parents insist feeding you with the required vegetables, fruits and sporadically sugared violets while you are in England…" He glanced affectionately to her and told her, "Aw, I'm touched." He really was.
Tomoyo looked around nervously. "That's good to know," she said, her voice tinted with embarrassment. She still was not used to Kyo's eccentric behavior, but she loved every minute of it, his sweet quirks. "Open the present in London, okay?" she added when he was about to rip the pastel wrapper and was going to make an objection, but she cut in firmly, said, "It won't be a surprise any longer if you open it in front of me."
"That's just cruel, love," Kyo joked, putting it away in his knapsack. He draped an arm around her. "So, when will Sakura-chan and Li get here?" he asked her, though he frankly did not care if Li was there or not, as Li had made an uproar the other day, saying he rather 'go with Toya at the flee market than see that wretched Shinomori off.'
Everybody knew that Li and Sakura-chan's brother, Toya, did not get along well though most of them—except Sakura-chan, Tomoyo-chan and the involved party—did not know the origin of their festering antagonism. Kyo simply imagined that Li had too many fiends.
"I think they're already here," replied Tomoyo, "Sakura-chan said that they would check out a café in the fifth floor at Terminal 2, I believe."
"Yeah?" Kyo said. He thought back, then said quickly, "Oh yes, the café that Sakura-chan mentioned is probably Coco."
"Coco," echoed Tomoyo, nonplussed. She had been at the airport numerously, but she did not have an ample of time to browse through the floors; she did not think that she would miss anything.
He looked at her. "You haven't been there before?"
"No," Tomoyo said.
"You'd like that place," Kyo said, grinning at her. Seeing a bewildered air about her, he elaborated, "Coco sells awesome hot cocoas regardless that it's not winter. It is actually the only café in the entire airport, really, and is quite popular to the tourists and the natives." He whistled his bangs away from his face as he went on, "they have an enormous amount of space there, so Sakura-chan and Li probably got some seats…and since this is their first try, Coco would give them free hot cocoas."
"You're well-informed about that place," she said, suspecting that he had been there before. "Have you gone to Coco previously?"
"I have," confirmed Kyo, "my father owns this particular airport and what's in it, among his wholesale food business in England." He raised his shoulders unassumingly as he went on, "So, when the café opened, I went there. Once was with my mum and dad, and the other time was with my siblings and this time—" he kissed her as he said this, "with you."
Tomoyo twisted a brow. "Sorry to ruin the moment," she said it in a tone of contradiction, "but might I add that I can see why Sakura-chan and Li-kun would want to go to Coco—hot cocoas, and all."
Well, that definitely ruined the moment, he thought, cringing. "Li and his chocolates," Kyo said morosely. It was no secret that Li had a soft spot for those delectable treats; if Li hadn't encountered Sakura-chan in elementary, he would have possibly married a bonbon, or perhaps a French pastry chef, and that would be absolutely dreadful to him, and utterly hilarious to Kyo. Kyo turned to Tomoyo in her gray khakis and white top, gazing at her questionably and said, "Shall we meet Sakura-chan and Li at Coco, then?"
She weaved her hands around his neck. "We still have a moment left, you know," Tomoyo said waywardly, and before he could say anything, she suddenly grabbed his face and kissed him on the mouth.
Tomoyo was fourteen when she met Kyo that one fine summer day. She was at the beach that afternoon, a beach towel around her waist. Her feet were making an imprint on a muddy slice of sand, and she was sopping wet under the sun; her hand was motionless as it gripped a paintbrush in front of her blank canvas. All around her women were sun tanning or dozing, men and their six-packs strolling. Some were jogging, sweating as the white blazing sun pounded them, but most were having a grand time; people usually did when they go to the beach.
Sakura and Syaoran had left for Hong Kong the day before with her family in tow, abandoning Tomoyo by herself. Of course, Sakura had encouraged her to come, but every year Tomoyo said no; every year Tomoyo had a reason why she could not go.
It hurt too much to see them together, but Tomoyo would lie through her teeth and she would say to Sakura, I do not mind. Go with Li-kun. Have fun. She was excellent at lying, anyway, and sometimes she was grateful that Sakura was oblivious, or appeared to be; Tomoyo could not handle the truth. She would pay attention to Sakura say, what she did with Syaoran, Syaoran, and Syaoran and was he the cutest boy Tomoyo-chan had ever seen?
Tomoyo would smile her smile to Sakura as she watched them go, Sakura becoming her ghost best friend. It was endurable during school as Tomoyo had eclectic leisure interests, grades, and clubs; her schedule was brimming to the top that she could possibly not see Sakura often. There were days she did not even see Sakura, who was busy with cheerleading, grades and Syaoran. It used to be Tomoyo, who was always with Sakura even though they had other things to do, but Syaoran had taken her place; Syaoran was the boy who took her best friend's heart, and he was the boy who had inadvertently hurt her a lot.
Tomoyo could not do anything about it, really, except during the summer, when it was all about forgetting Sakura and Syaoran, and the winter, spring, and autumn falling behind her—when Sakura's happiness did not matter.
Then for the first time, without Sakura by her side, her journey began with Kyo, her blank canvas, the emptiness after everything.
That one fine summer day, Tomoyo was spreading blue on the black blot across the canvas with the tips of her paintbrush as the waves slapped her ankles; the water was like a diamond as the sun was crashing down.
Then behind her, someone said, "That's nice."
The voice caused her to jolt, her paintbrush knocked down on the muddy bottom. She rotated, her eyes now fixed on the boy blankly; he had honey-blond hair and coffee eyes. He was only in his trunks. She blanched as he bent down, his palm and knees sandy as he got up, and gave her the paintbrush with a flourish as though it was a rose. How terribly romantic, she thought sardonically, as he winked at her.
"Thank you," she said, and faced her canvas, her hand poised. Then she painted her dreams and the sea, sketched it roughly from her thoughts. She had been looking at it with black and white and white and black and gray screening her eyes. Her Mother twice complimented her, said that her paintings were abstract and wonderful like her dance interpretations and those melodies she slain excellently. But she did not care anymore, not today anyway; colors freed her. Summer was her savior.
It was already sundown as she realized there were no kids running and shrieking to destroy sandcastles. There were just the waves rolling now, and suddenly a voice—not her own—spoke up.
"That is wicked."
Tomoyo turned around right as the honey blond-haired boy scanned her work of art. She recognized that he was the same boy from last time. She wrinkled her nose. She thought he had gone away, and was amazed that he was still there. She ogled him for seconds, his comment striking her right then. Did he just insult her? She was not sure, but she wanted him to go away. However, her decorum won over her and she heard herself saying, "Thank you."
"You should use light colors more," he continued, and now he was looking at her, "to brighten the mood of your overall artwork. Thus far, it's good…but it makes one feel depressed."
Now she was annoyed. Who was this stranger to order her around? "I have intended to do that, sir," she informed him curtly, "but I appreciate you for telling me of your opinion." Her tone construed that she wished to be by herself; however, he did not leave, meaning he was either thickheaded or simply slow.
"I didn't mean to offend you," he said smoothly, "My mum is a painter, you see, so I sort of have knowledge concerning—" he gestured vaguely to her canvas, "—that."
"Yes, I'm sure," she said wryly. She did not have patience for this; if he was not going to go, then she would. She started to pick up her things, but suddenly he seized her arm and drew her close to him, stopping her altogether.
Tomoyo stood there, shocked.
"I'm sorry," he said, "I was just saying that you shouldn't blame hope for deceiving you, that's all." His arms sagged to his sides. "Anyway, it's lovely to meet you," and away he went.
Her mouth was still slacking as she went home that night, his words bundling her mind that she rather forget. He was an audacious one, that boy, and she never got his name. She thought she would not see him again, but the next afternoon, when she went back to the same beach—the same spot—to finish her painting, she missed a step and fell upon a mass of honey-blond hair and grinning coffee eyes. He was warmer than her skin. He looked up at her abashed, purple orbs as though they knew each other and they were friends, said, "Hey, I knew you'd be here."
And that was when he held her art works by the sea, without Sakura, and told her his name. Yet Sakura was still in the river of her fantasies, but she was self-seeking. She wanted him too, but she could not have two. First love was the hardest and it was her everything. She could not get over it, but she felt a change coming. I've changed, I've changed. I've changed. That summer the colors were shocking, and Kyo was not all her life. That year she refused him—Give me time, Kyo, she said to him—and he went away like that day after he held her. Like a butterfly, she trapped him in a jar only to slip out of it the next day.
Tomoyo was fifteen turning sixteen when she found him again.
Kyo and Tomoyo went to the café, Coco, afterwards; it took them a few minutes to get to the fifth floor, which was the top floor, and the planes were much nosier as they got there, the lights blinding them temporarily. Kyo saw Sakura first, and Tomoyo mimicked him and saw what he had: a girl wearing her brown hair in a ponytail, tied with a red cherry blossom scrunch. The girl was unquestionably Sakura, and sitting across him—a table set for six people—was Syaoran, who appeared to be sipping a complimentary hot cocoa.
Sakura had seen them before Syaoran did, and she waved at her best friend and Kyo merrily, her hair whipping about and her emerald orbs sparking like gems.
"Tomoyo-chan, Kyo-kun, we got you seats!" Sakura said gaily when they were at hearing distance, indicating at the empty seats with a beamy smile.
Syaoran promptly choked on his hot chocolate, the burning sensation leaking in his throat, and said inconsequentially, "Great." His brow puckered. He really, really did not want to be there, but for his Sakura and Daidouji, he thought gloomily, he would. Syaoran's jaw clenched as Sakura then forcefully thrust Kyo to slide in next to him. "Absolutely great," said Syaoran, surly. Then he snickered pleasantly. At least Shinomori was going to be away for two whole months. Perhaps he could then convince Daidouji that Shinomori was a pathetic excuse of a thing to be a human being…
"Good day, Li," said Kyo stiffly.
Syaoran glowered at him. "Bad day, Shinomori," he returned, his knuckles were pasty white because it was gripping the mug tightly.
Kyo simply ignored him, attempting to keep his promise to Tomoyo last night. However, it was hard to avoid Li's snarky comments, as Sakura had made him sit next to Li. He slightly wondered if Sakura and Tomoyo had done this on purpose: He was usually beside Tomoyo and therefore, he could sometimes evade any conversations with Li. Then he noticed Li was glowering at him with slit eyes. Kyo sighed, said nothing, and turned his attention to the girls instead.
"That's cool," Sakura was whispering to Tomoyo, "I ordered one for Kero-chan too….I don't think he had Italian before," she went on, "so this would be his first try, and I think he would really like it!"
"He certainly would." Tomoyo agreed, smiling.
Kyo blinked, perplexed. Sakura introduced him to her toy before, but he didn't know it could eat real food. "Kero-chan?" he said to Sakura, "Isn't that a stuffed animal toy?"
Sakura appeared as if she was going to be sick. "Um, yes,but…um, you see—"
"Of course it is, Shinomori," Syaoran cut in easily, "Sakura likes to refer to her stuffed animal toy as a living being."
However, Kyo still looked unconvinced; Tomoyo had not exactly told him of Sakura and Syaoran had magical powers as she thought he was not ready for it. Sakura and Syaoran concurred, though Sakura believed she should have told Kyo of it otherwise.
Syaoran snorted. "Believe me, Shinomori, there are more—"
To his chagrin, his line of remarks got cut off by a rather shrilly voice, and he was positively horrified as he found a long brown-haired girl bouncing towards them. Syaoran cowered as the girl huddled around him, pinching his cheeks.
"Oohh, Syaoran-kun, you're here too!" cooed the girl. At this, Kyo could not contain his uncontrollable glee; on the other hand, Tomoyo was startled. She peered at the girl more closely, dawning on her that the girl looked very familiar…
"Hi, Nakuru-chan!" said Sakura, not at all surprised. She stood up and strode towards Nakuru. "It's nice to see you."
Nakuru squealed. "Yes, it's nice to see you, too!" said Nakuru, "I'm sorry we're a bit late. We got hold up by those stupid securities and then, Eriol-sama here—" Tomoyo looked behind Nakuru, and sure enough, a tall, lanky dark-haired boy with wide-rimmed glasses appeared by Nakuru's side, "—did not help at all! But those securities were being all stupid. Anyway…"
Tomoyo was not listening. Eriol Hiiragizawa? In Japan? Tomoyo peeked at Syaoran; he did not seem to be speechless by Eriol and Nakuru's sudden appearance. Sakura-chan had forgotten to tell me of this, she thought, hurt that her best friend did not tell her. It is probably why she and Li-kun went to Coco, to meet them…. She then struggled to recall whether Hiiragizawa-kun wrote in one of their letters that he was coming to Japan….And, she thought in relief, he had not.
"Hello, Sakura-san," said Eriol quietly once Nakuru had finished talking, "It is indeed lovely to see you again."
"Eriol-kun!" exclaimed Sakura, immediately throwing her arms around him—Syaoran looked terribly livid by now—"I've missed you!"
"And I have missed you dearly," said Eriol, patting her on the back carefully, as Syaoran was watching him like a hawk.
"Mou, Sakura-chan," complained Nakuru, pouting, "don't I get a hug too?"
Sakura giggled, detangling herself from Eriol. "Okay, I—"
But Nakuru was already halfway to the corner where the pastries and sweets lie in neat stacks. "Nah," she said facetiously, gesticulating about, "You can do that later…Right now, though, I have to get something for Toya-kun. And candies for Suppi-chan," she added, before trotting out of view.
"Hoeee," Sakura said, complete with the swirls in her eyes.
"Forget Akizuki, Sakura," spoke Syaoran, who was eyeing Eriol distrustfully, "We have other…things to watch out for." He emphasized his last words as he continually scowled at Eriol; he could never forget that Eriol did hurt his Sakura.
Eriol chuckled. "You have not changed at all, My Cute Little Descendant," said Eriol cheerfully, his blue eyes widening slightly as his gaze moved smoothly to Tomoyo. "Hello, Daidouji-san…forgive me, I haven't seen you there."
"Oh, er, that's all right," said Tomoyo weakly, still shocked at his presence. "I was not aware of you visiting Japan this soon, nor was I informed of when you would arrive," she said impishly.
Eriol smiled. "It is I who is at fault here," said Eriol, "I have forgotten to notify you of my forthcoming vacation in Japan in my monthly letters to you…though, I was sure that Sakura-san or Syaoran here would mention it to you once or twice…"
He broke off at Sakura's apology and then assuring Sakura that it was his fault, not hers (at which Syaoran muttered, "You got that right."), Eriol then concluded to Tomoyo, "And I am honestly sorry for that…" It was then he set his eyes on Kyo, his astonishment strong before he shook it off, "I believe we have not been introduced to each other yet," said Eriol politely. He stuck out his hand to Kyo, and with another smile, "Eriol Hiiragizawa."
Kyo took it, and shaking Eriol's hand, he said, grinning, "Kyo Shinomori."
Syaoran grumbled at them both, thinking that the two people he did not like were there before him. Eriol's cheerful smile grew cheerier even more, and at that, Syaoran was practically going to bludgeon him with one of his snide comments when Sakura had cried unexpectedly.
"What is it, Sakura?" asked Syaoran worriedly, ignoring the infuriating smirk on Kyo's face and the annoying twinkle in Eriol's eyes.
Sakura pressed her fingers to her mouth. "Where are my manners?" she said to no one, ashamed of herself. Then, "Come seat next to Syaoran-kun, Eriol-kun," she told Eriol, "I think three people would fit over there…"
The vein on Syaoran's forehead appeared to throb subsequently as Eriol obliged. There was a bit of silence, and then, Syaoran said to Eriol, irritated, "I still can't believe you're here—" Eriol sunk next to him. "—I think I'm going to go insane if Sakura keeps torturing me with your face."
"That's a dangerous path for you, My Cute Little Descendant," said Eriol mildly, extending his arm on the table to get a menu, "Thinking, that is."
Syaoran's ears were red. "Fuc—"
"Syaoran-kun!" screeched Sakura, appropriately scandalized, "There are other people here, you know," she said, indicating the irate complaints of others who were conversing in hushed voices. "So, please, don't say bad words."
"You know I have never cursed, Sakura," Syaoran said, insulted, and then muttered, "not in front of you, anyway."
"Syaoran-kun," said Sakura; she was hissing now.
Syaoran raised his hands as though he had lost in a game. "I won't, Sakura," Syaoran relented, "Really."
Amidst all of Syaoran's suffering, Kyo viewed the scene with keen interest. He deduced that Li and Hiiragizawa were close to one another. Furthermore, Li had managed to obtain yet again a certain person to vex him. Knowing Li, he likely brought it upon himself. Kyo threw an inquisitive look at Tomoyo. "Are Li and Hiiragizawa-san relatives?"
"Yes, they are," replied Tomoyo, leaving out the fact that Hiiragizawa-kun was also Sakura-chan's relative and he was the reincarnation of Clow Reed. She would tell him sometime about it, she decided confidently, but not now.
"Ah," said Kyo, liking Eriol already as he could be his ally; Eriol clearly seemed to take pleasure in vexing Li. "How do you know Hiiragizawa-san, though?" he asked, "You have brought up your past elementary friends once or twice, but I don't think you've told me anything about him."
"I know Hiiragizawa-kun poorly," shrugged Tomoyo, "All I know about him is that he moved to Tomodea in fifth grade. He was my classmate," Tomoyo filled him in, again omitting the important facts, "He went back to England, though; Sakura-chan kept writing him letters as he was her friend. She got Li-kun and me to that particular hobby as well, and so I mail him a letter once a month while Li-kun sends him an enormously short letter once a year. He and Li-kun are not precisely buddies, you see, but they really care about each other…."
"That's how Li cares, I suppose," muttered Kyo, brooding. With Hiiragizawa's skills, it was so much better to vex Li. It was, after all, his time to get back at Li….Refocusing his attention back to their companions, he witnessed Syaoran—and to his delight—failingly controlled his temper.
"Quit pretending you're going to order, Hiiragizawa!" snapped Syaoran, his scowl a-flourish. "You are probably here to torment this peaceful town again, aren't you?" he demanded, "Tell me!"
"Some of us do order food when one's hungry, Syaoran," said Eriol delicately, pushing the menu aside. "And no, I have no intentions on causing any kind of havoc this time. However, now that I have lost my appetite," he went on, his tone suggesting Syaoran was behaving like a four-year-old, "I have a question for you: When are you going to marry dear Sakura-san here?"
Sakura blushed furiously. "Eriol-kun, it's not—we're not going to—" she stammered, twiddling her thumbs, "I mean, we are but we are not—"
Syaoran slammed his fists on the table. "I…I—" he stuttered, his face as red as his ears. "Argh!" he finally bit out, "I hate you, Hiiragizawa!" and stomped out of the café, followed by the unimpressed spectators' mutterings as they glared daggers after him. Sakura apologized to them profusely, before proceeding to catch up with Syaoran, her features clearly expressing 'Pain' and 'Syaoran' as she left the café.
Eriol faced Tomoyo and Kyo amicably. "Would you like buttered toasts as well?" he asked them after a moment.
Tomoyo merely stared, thinking that he was quite insane. Granted, Syaoran had exploded rather suddenly, but Eriol was always fond of getting on his nerves…. Eriol was sharp, though. He would have noticed that Syaoran was not having a good day and that he had the shortest patience today…. She then considered if Eriol was perhaps like other men: oblivious.
Kyo, however, was triumphant. "Brilliant, Hiiragizawa, you're just brilliant!" he praised Eriol, shaking his head in awe. "I could have not done it any better! Though, since I have never enraged Li like that, you beat me up to it," he corrected thoughtfully.
"I knew him for too long and therefore, I knew how to push his buttons," said Eriol modestly. His eyes glittered mischievously. "Would you like to know exactly how to—?"
"You don't even have to ask!" said Kyo eagerly, unable to help himself. He leaned over to Eriol, and they commenced whispering each other of Li-kun's weaknesses, which amused Tomoyo.
She was secretly glad that Sakura-chan was not present now, as she would have spasms—almost as worse when she was scared of ghosts—had she seen Kyo-kun and Hiiragizawa-kun was conspiring against Li-kun…. Actually, Tomoyo thought, perhaps Sakura-chan would be more horrified at the thought of Naoko-chan telling her tales about phantasms and ghosts... She involuntarily shivered. The memory from last night did not wilt in her mind; in fact, she had retained bits and pieces of it, dripping like dewdrops as the day went by. The phantasm was becoming more real to her that she knew that it was not a dream, and that it was pointless to deny that she was not hallucinating that night. She deliberated if she needed assistance for this….phantasm….perhaps Sakura could help her, but no….she rather Sakura-chan not have a heart attack anytime soon. Nevertheless, she still needed someone who could perhaps ward that thing in the mansion away…but who would be apt for that particular job? Her brows drew up together as she came up with one word: priestess. Could a priestess fend off such a thing, though? If they could, where would she find one...Oh, wait a minute….she remembered that Mizuki-sensei was a priestess. Tomoyo's lips quirked happily….Yes, Mizuki-sensei was one wasn't she, and since Hiiragizawa-kun and Mizuki-sensei were very close friends, she would be in Japan as well….
Gathering up her courage, Tomoyo cleared her throat. "Excuse me for interrupting you and Kyo-kun, Hiiragizawa-kun but…if you don't mind me asking, do you know where Mizuki-sensei is?"
Eriol looked up and smiled that did not reach to his cold eyes. "She's in England," he replied simply, "It is regrettable that she could not come, but her work demands her full attention as of now…"
"Oh," said Tomoyo, discerning that she came across a wound. "I'm sorry," she said, but Eriol had his back to her once more, and was again advising Kyo what not to do if he was to irritate Syaoran successfully.
Tomoyo pondered, peeking at Kyo and Eriol every now and then. Did that mean that Hiiragizawa-kun and Mizuki-sensei broke up? However, they went back to England together, right….She did not know the details, but it was conclusive that they would be as one like Li-kun and Sakura-chan was and yet, here he was, with Akizuki and possibly Spinel-san….without Mizuki-sensei. Could it be that they had a fight so drastic that it compelled Hiiragizawa-kun to go to Japan? ….She promptly berated herself. She needed not to think of it….it was not her business; she and Hiiragizawa-kun were barely friends and therefore, she should leave him alone and not intrude into his privacy. Moreover, she had important matters regarding on what to do with the possible supernatural in the mansion…
A sudden reminder broke her thoughts, then; she had almost forgotten that Kyo's flight was today. "Kyo-kun," she said urgently, "your flight—"
"Oh, right, oh," said Kyo, taking in Tomoyo's words. "Yes, right then..." he said hastily, getting out of his seat as a loudspeaker had just announced that Japan Airlines—that was off to England—was leaving in forty minutes.
Tomoyo stood up as well, turning to look at Eriol. "Excuse us, Hiiragizawa-kun—"
"No, that's okay," said Kyo at once, swinging his knapsack in one shoulder, "You stay here."
Tomoyo jerked her head up at him, startled. "What—"
"I have to go straight to the security first, and they don't allow visitors—besides, Hiiragizawa here needs your scintillating company more than I do," Kyo explained hurriedly, and then to Eriol, "Excellent to meet you, mate!"
She was puzzled; they had planned that she would see him off. "But, Kyo-kun," said Tomoyo reasonably, "I—"
Kyo had interrupted her once more, and said, "It's quite all right, Tomoyo-chan; I'll give you a ring when I get there, okay?"
"Kyo-kun—"
"I'll see you later, love," said Kyo as he kissed her quickly, and flashing her and Eriol a grin, he said, "I hope to see you again, Hiiragizawa!"
Tomoyo did not even say goodbye to him properly as with those words, he was out the door. She stared after his diminishing form, and sighing inaudibly, she plopped on her seat in defeat. "How odd," she murmured. She was unnerved that Sakura-chan and Li-kun had not come back yet…and Kyo-kun had just left—she would have a word with him later on—and so she was sitting alone….with Hiiragizawa-kun. She perfunctorily inhaled her breath, and studied him for a moment, wondering if he was willing to let whatever he had on her pass.
Finally, after what she felt like years had elapsed, Eriol spoke. "Does Shinomori have a family in England?"
Tomoyo examined him cautiously before she replied. "Yes," she paused, careful, "His family has a wholesale food business there, and his father owns this airport."
"Ah," said Eriol, musing, "So that is why I recognize his last name….His father has plans to spread the business in America as well as in Europe, yes?" he asked her.
"I believe so," answered Tomoyo, silently thinking of how to apologize to him without getting him cross with her once again.
"His father is a clever man," he added thoughtfully.
"Shinomori-san is indeed clever." Tomoyo bit her lip reluctantly as he said no more. "Look, Hiiragizawa-kun, I'm sorry for what I had said earlier—"
"No," said Eriol quietly, and in a heartbeat, she thought he was crossed with her when he cracked a warm smile. "I acted callously towards you without giving you a good reason why, but I hope you could perhaps pardon my prior—"
"I was out of line," said Tomoyo at once, now in ease that she knew he was not mad at her, "I shouldn't have—" She stopped again when disruption in a form of Nakuru had come waltzing in, heaving as she dropped her purchases in a reckless manner on the ground.
"TOMOYO-CHAN!" cried Nakuru happily, promptly taking Tomoyo by the arms; Nakuru hugged her tightly, consequently lifting her from her seat.
"Hi, Akizuki-san," said Tomoyo faintly.
Nakuru gave her a stern look, "It's Nakuru-chan, Tomoyo-chan!" scolded Nakuru, "We're friends, you know, and so you should call me by my first name," She wagged a finger at Tomoyo. "My name is not so hard to pronounce: Nakuru-chan," she enunciated slowly, "See? It's not hard at all! Why don't you try—?"
Tomoyo was unable to reply; Nakuru was still squeezing her rather strongly.
"Perhaps if you kindly refrain from depriving her of oxygen, she would, Nakuru," said Eriol dryly, amused.
"Oh!" said Nakuru and as though she was appalled at her actions, she let go of her, "Sorry, Tomoyo-chan!"
"It's fine," said Tomoyo, but she was indeed grateful that Eriol had rescued her from Nakuru's clutches. "How are you and Spinel-san doing, Akizu—" and at Nakuru's pout, she rectified, "Nakuru-chan?"
Nakuru's face brightened. "I'm well, thank you!" she said in a rush, "And Suppi-chan is fine too but not anymore since he'd be too busy being mad at me—" she threw in a hearty guffaw "—as he is napping inside one of Eriol-sama's suitcases right now."
"Oh," said Tomoyo, not quite sure how to respond to that.
Eriol tilted an eyebrow. "What did you do, Nakuru?"
"I didn't do anything bad, Eriol-sama!" said Nakuru instantly; she looked remarkably innocent that Tomoyo thought she had sprouted a halo on the top of her head. "Honest!"
"Are you, really?" said Eriol, obviously not believing Nakuru's words.
Nakuru nodded vehemently. "Yes, really!" She huffed, her hands on her hips, "Don't you believe me, Eriol-sama?"
Eriol raised another eyebrow as though he knew something Nakuru didn't. He looked regretfully to Tomoyo. "I'm sorry to end this get-together so short," Eriol began, "but we have to go—"
"I don't mind, Hiiragizawa-kun," said Tomoyo at once, smiling understandingly, "Say hi to Spinel-san for me."
Eriol nimbly got off his feet. "Will do, Daidouji-san," he said; he took Nakuru's purchases effortlessly as he went on, "As for you, Nakuru…" his tone fatherly, "I'll address you of your punishment for stuffing Spinel-san in one of your suitcases once we get to the manor..."
Tomoyo smothered her giggles at their father and daughter relationship. They were charming, really, and Tomoyo noticed that Nakuru just glowed…she had undoubtedly gone through this copiously before, and was not at all afraid of Eriol's chastisements. Tomoyo was not sure if she wanted to know what really happened to poor Spinel-san (or what had Nakuru had done to him numerous of times previously), and she had a feeling that she did not want to know…Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood up, causing a prickling sensation all over her body. Tomoyo looked up right as Eriol and Nakuru left the café, and could've sworn that Nakuru had cast a look at her. For a moment, Tomoyo wondered what that was for, but dismissed it as she was mostly certain that it was just in her imagination.