Disclaimer: CLAMP owns the car that is Card Captor Sakura. I just 'borrow' it sometimes and turn donuts on their front lawn.
The Tomoeda Arcana
Chapter Two: The Judgment & The World
Tomoyo stepped softly into the music room, unwilling to disturb the silence that was found so rarely inside such a place. Usually the room would be full of voices: the fluid notes of song, the hushed rustling of whispers or the bright burst of laughter, but all of that had been replaced by the soft, velvet sounds of silence. To Tomoyo it seemed that the room wanted this one moment of quiet; afterwards it would allow her to make whatever noise she wanted. She considered it a fair exchange.
Tomoyo walked over to a desk and drew out a chair; she winced at the racket she made. She placed her bag on the floor and sat down to wait for Tsujitani-sensei. As she sat, her legs twined around the chair's legs, the outside world began to challenge the stillness of the music room: the trees waved their leaves from the window; the sound of students cheering and yelling drifted inside, their sharp edges dulled by distance and brick walls; the sun cascaded inside and painted stars on the metal stands and forgotten instruments.
Tsujitani-sensei had caught Tomoyo during the lunch break and asked to see Tomoyo after school. Tomoyo wanted to refuse, say she already had other plans, but her music teacher had looked so hassled and it didn't help that she was injured. Tsujitani-sensei had fractured her wrist while competing in her latest marathon; apparently she had collided with the refreshment stand. She now went around school wearing a fluro-green cast, dotted with best wishes and smiley faces. Tomoyo fingered the hem of her uniform; there was probably a lecture in store for her but at least that wouldn't take very long. She hoped it wasn't going to be an impromptu practice session but she couldn't rule it out: Tsujitani-sensei had not been pleased that Tomoyo had lost the competition.
The sound of ticking crept towards Tomoyo. She glanced at her watch and then double-checked it against the classroom clock. Her music teacher was late.
Tomoyo was never one to let time go to waste. She dropped a hand and felt inside her bag, she could tell which textbook was which from touch alone. Her fingers snagged slightly on the sharp corner of her science book, drifted past the clothbound cover of her sketchpad, she ran her fingers down the spiral spine of her math book. Where was the ragged cover and well-thumbed pages of her grammar book? She emptied her bag out on her desk, the dozen books and notebooks sliding in a heap; her fingers had been right, the grammar book wasn't there, she must have left it in her desk. She made a mental note to go back for it after this meeting.
If she couldn't do grammar then she may as well do her next favorite subject, math. She picked out the math exercise book and shunted the rest to the side. Something fell off the edge but she ignored it and turned to the latest set of problems. She dimly heard the sound of an alarm in the distance. Question one, she read, if a plane leaves Tokyo, departing for Hawaii, at nine o'clock in the morning…
She stopped reading. The mention of planes and leaving sent her thoughts speeding back to yesterday, the last time she saw Sakura.
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Tomoyo's feet knew their own way to Sakura's house; this allowed her brain to mull over other things. The events of last night seemed dreamlike now, as she walked along the suburban street. But then they had seemed dreamlike while she was living them, so it was unlikely they would seem real the following day. It begged the question that, if it felt like a dream, walked like a dream, talked like a dream then wasn't it a dream? Tomoyo would have easily dismissed it as such if it weren't for the cloud-backed card that was nestled in a plain wooden box that in turn sat like a brick at the bottom of her bag.
Most people would have written off that Fool visitor as a product of an overactive imagination, while the rest would believe and thus be scared out of their minds. But Tomoyo had seen some weird and fantastic creatures so she didn't think she had imagined the whole thing, and she didn't feel frightened because she knew someone who would help her.
Gravel crunched under Tomoyo's shoes as she made her way up the path, the sounds of the street fading behind her. She adjusted the strap of her school bag and lifted her other hand to press the doorbell of the Kinomoto residence.
Her finger was poised above the button when the front door flew open. Sakura's brother, Touya, appeared followed closely by his friend, Tsukishiro Yukito.
Tomoyo quickly stepped out of the way. Touya was rearranging the collar of his jacket and Yukito was inhaling a piece of pie. "Hello," she said.
Touya nodded a greeting and ducked his head back inside to shout down the hall, "Monster! Daidouji-san's here."
"Hello, Daidouji-san. Did you have a good day at school?" said Yukito around a mouthful of pastry, the flakes falling like snow down his front.
"Yes I did, thank you." Tomoyo frowned slightly and tilted her head. "But Sakura wasn't at school today. Is she all right?"
She noticed a quick glance flash between Touya and Yukito. "She's okay, she's upstairs right now." Yukito smiled reassuringly and gestured for her to go inside.
"We better go, Yuki," said Touya and stalked down the path. Yukito gave Tomoyo a small wave and followed him.
Tomoyo stepped through the doorway. The house appeared deserted, as if it contained only empty spaces.
"Hello," Tomoyo called into the void.
"Up here, Tomoyo-chan," fell a voice from up the stairs.
Tomoyo climbed the stairs, her hand sliding along the polished banister. In the upstairs hallway she had to scramble over a jumble of packed suitcases; it looked like Kinomoto-sensei was going on another trip. The sounds of an argument got louder and louder as she closed in on Sakura's room.
"Hello Sakura-chan, Kero-chan," she spoke brightly, alerting the pair to her presence, otherwise they would have kept on fighting.
"Tomoyo-chan!" Sakura rushed over, grabbed Tomoyo's hand and dragged her into the room. "Thank goodness you're here. Tell Kero that he can't bring all these video games to Sapporo."
On the bed lay a large suitcase crammed with video games. The packer hadn't even made an attempt at neatness; all the brightly colored boxes were arranged in a heap.
"I'm not bringing all of them. Just five or twenty." Kero had perched himself on top of his self-made mountain and glared, daring Sakura to shift him.
"There's more than twenty here, Kero," said Sakura as she swatted him out of the way. Kero did a tumble turn in the air and crashed into the mirror. Sakura began to fling the games over her shoulder. "You're not bringing any of them," she muttered.
Tomoyo had watched the whole scene with an indulgent smile. "Kero's going to Sapporo?"
"We're all going to Sapporo: me, Kero, Dad, Oniichan and even Yukito." Sakura had emptied the suitcase of all the video games; the vinyl bottom stared back at her. Apparently video games were the only things Kero had planned on bringing. Sakura rounded on Kero, "Where are all my clothes, Kero!" she shouted.
From the dresser, Kero raised a twitching arm and pointed at Sakura's feet. Sakura dropped to the floor and looked under the bed. The sight of all her clothes crammed between the floorboards and her bedsprings made her scream. "KERO!"
Tomoyo rescued Kero from a wreckage of clips and hair ribbons as Sakura continued her rant. Realizing that his mistress was not happy, the winged bear quickly regained his senses and jumped to the closest refuge, Tomoyo's shoulder.
"It took me all morning to pack this, Kero," she said, pulling shirts, skirts and socks from their hiding place. "Now I have to do it all over again." Sakura sat back on her heels and wailed.
Tomoyo placed a hand on Sakura's shoulder. "This time I'll be here to help you." She picked up a dress from the floor, carefully folded it and tucked the neat bundle into a corner of the suitcase. Sakura stopped her keening and gazed in wonder at her very own Angel of Packing. Kero peered out from under Tomoyo's curtain of hair to see if the storm had past.
"So, why are you going to Sapporo?" she said as she calmly folded a green turtleneck sweater. She idly noted that Sakura wasn't packing any of the clothes Tomoyo had made her, but then they were a bit flamboyant.
"We're only going to Sapporo for a day. Then we travel to Daisetsuzan National Park because Dad has to go on an archeological dig there." Sakura sat on the edge of her bed, content to let Tomoyo do the tricky activity of fitting the contents of a whole wardrobe into a suitcase. "A group of hikers stumbled on this temple, way up in the mountains. The university asked Dad to go down and check it out."
Kero decided that it was safe to come out; he fluttered onto the quilt. "They say there are bears in Daisetsuzan. I'll soon show them who's boss." He swaggered and did a bit of freestyle kickboxing.
"I'm sure the bears will be very scared, Kero-chan," Tomoyo said sedately. She gave Kero a warning look as he reached for 'Pokemon Crystal'. Smoothing out a crease in a cotton shirt, she asked, "So how long will you be gone? A week? Two?"
Sakura had stretched herself out on the bed and looked as if she was about to drop off into sleep; packing must have begun really early. "More like six," she murmured.
"Six weeks?" Tomoyo was stunned; six weeks would be the longest she would have ever gone without seeing Sakura. Oh well, it could be worse.
"Six months." It was worse.
Inside, Tomoyo was reeling, yet she retained her outward calm and asked, "But what about school?" She absentmindedly plucked Kero from the suitcase and removed the game he had taken the opportunity to hide from under Sakura's socks.
"Dad's going to tutor me and the school's given me assignments and stuff. That's why Oniichan and Yukito are out, they've gone to get my school books." Sakura adjusted the ribbon of the bear she had stood on her chest.
"Why are your brother and Tsukishiro-san going?" The suitcase was almost full now.
"The University will be giving them credit or experience or something for helping Dad." Sakura hugged the bear tightly against her and continued, "It was real short notice. But after, you know, everything with Syaoran and the cards, Dad thought it would be great for me to have a break. That's why I couldn't call yesterday, we had to make all these arrangements and start packing. And then Syaoran called and I had to ask him how he was, and then I had to tell him my news; by the time we were finished it was too late to call you," she finished apologetically.
Tomoyo looked over at her friend and smiled. "That's okay." She tucked Sakura's toiletries bag into the side and nestled two video games next to it; she winked at Kero. "When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow."
"I hope you have a good time." From Sakura's smile Tomoyo could tell that she was already having a good time, and she hadn't even left yet.
Sakura sat up in a rush. "That's enough about me, Tomoyo-chan," she decided. "What about you? Anything interesting happen to you lately?"
Tomoyo thought back to her late night visitor, she should tell Sakura and Kero about him, they knew all about all things magical. She reached inside her bag and closed her hand around the wooden box. As she drew it out she glanced at Sakura, she took in the beaming smile and excited face, the sparkling eyes.
"No, nothing really." She let go of the box and pulled out something else. "I almost forgot, I baked some cookies for you and Kero-chan."
Kero pounced like a ninja. "Tomoyo-chan, we should bring you to Daisetsuzan!"
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But she wasn't going to Daisetsuzan; she was stuck here in the music room waiting for an increasingly late teacher. Right this moment Sakura was boarding a plane. Thanks to this meeting, Tomoyo hadn't even been able to say goodbye.
The pen clattered against the page as she slumped in her chair, any inclination of doing math homework lost. What was taking Tsujitani-sensei so long?
The door slid open and in rushed Tsujitani-sensei, complete with flustered demeanor and broken arm.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting, Daidouji-san," she dumped a stack of sheet music on Tomoyo's desk. "I had to help out with in the Home Economics room. Who would have thought that desiccated coconut could catch fire so easily?" She turned a bright smile towards Tomoyo. "But that's all over now. We're here to discuss you."
"Yes, sensei," said Tomoyo as her teacher hooked a foot around a chair and drew it to the desk.
"You must have been very disappointed about not winning the competition on the weekend Daidouji-san. I was too, but I talked it over with the judges and I must say that I have to agree with some of their opinions."
Tsujitani-sensei looked as if she expected some sort of reply so Tomoyo said, "Their opinions?"
"Technically, Daidouji-san, your voice is perfect. It's flawless, there's nothing wrong with it." She leaned forward and watched Tomoyo intently. "But there's no emotion." She sat back and started waving her cast around for emphasis; Tomoyo hoped she wasn't' causing herself any pain. "It's like the bird in that story. You know, the one that's just a mechanical replacement for the real thing."
"The Emperor's Nightingale?" Tomoyo guessed.
"That sounds about right. And the Emperor does like the replacement, because while it's beautiful with heaps of jewels and gold and shiny stuff, it's not real." Tsujitani-sensei turned her attention back to Tomoyo. "Your voice is like that. You're not communicating what you feel, you're not putting it into your song."
Tomoyo was bewildered, how were you meant to react to an assessment like that. "Then what should I do?"
Tsujitani-sensei didn't seem to have any ideas. "I can't really tell you, Daidouji-san. It's something you have to find in yourself. Till you do, all we can do is practice." She grabbed a sheet of music and left her seat. "Now, come over to the piano…"
"But your arm sensei, how will you play?"
"Don't worry, I've got someone to fill in for me. He should be arriving any moment now."
The door slid open and in walked Eriol, for some reason he was covered in flour. "Sorry, I took so long sensei."
"That's fine, Hiiragizawa. We were just about to begin. Did they manage to round up all the hamsters?"
"All present and accounted for."
"Excellent." Tsujitani-sensei turned to Tomoyo. "Daidouji, this is Hiiragizawa, he has graciously agreed to play the piano for us." She bent her head to Tomoyo and confidentially added, "They say he is quite good."
"We're in the same class," Tomoyo stage whispered back.
"Really?" the teacher squealed. "Practice goes so much easier when you have a friend with you" Tomoyo tried to say that she and Eriol weren't really friends but Tsujitani-sensei had moved on. "Now," she said, "let's get started."
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Eriol flexed his fingers and distractedly rearranged his music sheets. He had been allowed a break while Tsujitani-sensei talked to Tomoyo about her technique.
Surprisingly, he had found himself enjoying this practice lesson. He had initially thought that it would be a trial, something he would have to endure in order to gain access to Tomoyo. But as soon as he began to play and she began to sing the music took over and he found himself soaring along with the melody. It was always a wrench when the song finished and he returned back to reality with a thump, but then they would begin another song and his heart would go flying again. He had to disagree with Tsujitani-sensei though; Tomoyo's voice wasn't hollow and empty. To him, it seemed like a snowbound garden, lifeless for now but heavy with the promise of spring.
He took a surreptitious glance at Tomoyo; they hadn't spoken a word to each other since their little chat on stage. Eriol had tried, on numerous occasions, to start a conversation; in order to effectively help her it would be best if they were at least speaking to each other. He had easily renewed his friendships with Yamazaki, Chiharu, Rika and Naoko. Tomoyo, however, continued to stay right out of reach. When he heard that Tsujitani-sensei was looking for someone to play the piano, he had practically broken her other arm in his haste to volunteer.
They were about to begin another piece when the door slid open, so violently it nearly jumped of its rails. All three looked up as a student rushed in and hastily bowed.
"Excuse me, sensei, but you are needed in the Home Economics room."
"Not again," Tsujitani-sensei moaned and covered her face with her hand. "Sorry students but we'll have to cut the practice short for today." She vacantly gazed around the room and said, "Would you be able to tidy up here?"
"Don't worry, sensei," Eriol smoothly stood up, "we'll take care of it."
The visiting student was dancing impatiently in the hall. "Tsujitani-sensei, please hurry. Midori-sensei was looking for the meat tenderizer when I left."
"Oh no, think of the mess," Tsujitani-sensei muttered and raced off with the student. Eriol and Tomoyo could hear their footsteps drumming down the hall.
They quietly gathered up the music sheets and books. Eriol thumbed through each file to make sure everything was in order.
"I want to apologize, Hiiragizawa, for my behavior at the competition."
Eriol carefully placed one sheaf of paper on the desk and picked up another one. "There's nothing to apologize for, Daidouji-san."
"No, there is." Tomoyo walked over and set a stack of books next to the gleaming white paper. Keeping her eyes down she said. "I'm sorry I slapped you and I'm sorry I yelled. There is no excuse I can give for such behavior. Please, forgive me."
Eriol glanced at her. "I accept your apology."
"Good." She picked up the folios he had organized, placed them on the stack of books and returned them both to the bookshelf. Her back to him, she said, "I suppose you're aware that Sakura-chan is on her way to Daisetsuzan."
Eriol didn't bother to deny it. "I'm sure she'll have a wonderful time."
"I hope she does." She still wouldn't face him. "She didn't seem aware that you had decided to stay in Tomoeda."
"You didn't tell her that I was here?" He carried the other folio of music to the bookshelf.
She looked at him as she removed the file from his arms. "I am not your messenger, Hiiragizawa, whatever you may think." Apparently he had forgiven her but she hadn't forgiven him.
Eriol raised an eyebrow.
Tomoyo sighed. "She seemed so excited and happy about her trip." She walked back to the center of the room," After all she's been through, I didn't want to spoil that." Eriol followed a step behind.
"I glad you didn't tell her."
She whirled on him then. "You didn't stay because of her did you?" her voice tinged with alarm. "Is Sakura-chan in danger?"
"No, Sakura isn't in any danger." He reassured her, placing a slight emphasis on Sakura.
"You would tell me if she was though?" she implored, her eyes holding his, demanding this promise.
"Of course."
"Good." She started shoveling a pile of schoolbooks into her bag. "What happened in the Home Economics room?" she asked casually.
"Oh, someone's pet hamsters escaped into the Home Economics room," Eriol airily said and propped himself on the desk. "They ended up hiding in one of the cupboards."
Tomoyo looked up in concern. "Poor things, they must have been so frightened."
"Yes," he nodded, "especially since Midori-sensei tried to squash them with bags of flour."
"Oh dear."
"But that was after the students tried to lure them out with desiccated coconut and peanut butter."
"Do hamsters like peanut butter?"
"Not these ones, apparently, since they wouldn't come out to eat it. That's when Midori-sensei got mad and tried packing the cupboard with flour, thinking that if it didn't force the hamsters out at least it would squash them." Tomoyo gave a gasp of alarm; Eriol smiled reassurance. "When the flour didn't work Midori-sensei tried to scare them out by lighting a fire near the cupboard. But for some reason the coconut caught fire and set off the alarm. That was when Tsujitani-sensei and I happened by, she managed to put out the fire and I rescued the hamsters. That's why we were so late." He fastidiously brushed his shirt. "And why I'm covered in flour."
"You've been spending too much time with Yamazaki-kun, his lies have infected you." She hefted her bag onto her shoulder and tucked her hair behind her hair. "There's probably a more simpler reason for you to be covered in flour." She shook her head, "Hamsters," she laughed to herself.
"But it's the truth!" he protested. "I have the teeth marks to prove it." He rolled up his sleeve and showed Tomoyo his wrist.
She bent over his wrist and gently prodded the tiny red marks, Eriol pretended to whimper in pain. "It's a wonder you were able to play the piano with such an injury."
Eriol, his mouth close to her ear, softly said, "To hear the dulcet tones of Daidouji-san's voice, I would willing bear any pain." The moment she stiffened he realized that that had been the wrong thing to say. He had been making so much progress too.
Tomoyo dropped his wrist; with that motion she crushed the feeling of closeness that had started to blossom between them. "I have to get a book from the classroom." When she reached the doorway she turned back, Eriol felt a stab of hope that all his hard work this afternoon had not been destroyed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hiiragizawa-kun."
When she had slipped into the hall, Eriol leant down and picked up something from under the desk. In his hands he held a notebook, the shiny cover a bright red with tiny white flowers for a border. He opened the book to the title page and ran his finger along the name printed inside, Daidouji Tomoyo. Drumming his fingers on the page he mused that there was always Plan B…
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The classroom, like the music room, was also full of silence, but while the music room had been like a sleeping cat, peaceful and unwilling to be disturbed, this classroom was watchful, menacing and eager to spring, more like a prowling tiger. She strained to hear the sound of voices but she couldn't hear any, everyone in the school had gone home, even the ones on cleaning duty. Tomoyo stole quickly inside, mentally planning to grab her book and get out of there. Once at her desk she chided herself for her unease, Eriol's behavior had thrown her off center. She opened her desk, her grammar book winked back at her, right where she left it.
"Daidouji-san." She jumped and the lid slammed down on her fingers, she let out a small yelp. "You're late. Sit down so that we can begin the lesson."
Tomoyo stared at the figure that was barking at her from the front of the room. It looked like Terada-sensei, but Terada-sensei never wore sweeping, shimmering robes, or if he did it was never at school. Also, Terada-sensei didn't carry a two-meter long staff, like Sakura and Eriol did.
The staff had the standard long bit that you twirl but the most interesting bit, the piece that gave each staff its personality, was the feature on top, a spinning miniature Earth, not connected to the stick bit at all. Tomoyo leaned in for a closer look, the globe looked too real; its tiny clouds swirled like real weather patterns and cast shadows on the oceans and mountains. Tomoyo imagined that if she had a telescope powerful enough she could train it on the staff and see a tiny Tomoeda, with a tinier Tomoyo standing in her classroom staring at a globe that had a tiny… She stopped when her mind started going in circles.
"Stop staring at me, Daidouji. Sit down," said the staff bearer and turned back to the blackboard. She knew that this was definitely not Terada-sensei; Terada-sensei wouldn't have been so mean.
Tomoyo slowly drifted into her seat. So, it was another one of those visits, like that Joker Clow from a few nights ago. Tomoyo wasn't concerned, Joker Clow hadn't hurt her, and he had left after he had said whatever he wanted to say; she assumed that Earth Terada would do the same thing. Tomoyo sat back and waited for the show to begin.
"The truth, Daidouji, is that you can't simply watch this time. You have to participate."
Tomoyo cast her gaze to the side. Sitting at Sakura's desk was…Yamazaki-kun? No, this was another fake person, just pretending to look like Yamazaki-kun; wearing his form. The imposter was dressed in gold robes; the sun bounced off their gleaming surface and burnished the room in oranges and yellows. He flourished a small plastic trumpet and played a little fanfare, ending it on a squawk.
"Daidouji," snapped Earth Terada, "pay attention." Tomoyo's head swiveled back to the front. Earth Terada picked up a stick of chalk and drew a small stick figure on the board; he gave it a triangular skirt and triangular hair. Pointing to the figure, he said, "This, Daidouji, is you."
Trumpet Yamazaki piped up, "The truth, Daidouji, is that you are quite small and skinny."
World Terada drew a circle around the stick figure; he then drew another circle around that. "And these circles represent your world."
There was another toot to her side. "The truth, Daidouji, is that your world is quite small."
World Terada glared at Trumpet Yamazaki, who rolled his eyes but kept quiet, for now. The fake teacher turned back to Tomoyo, he pointed to the outermost circle. "What we refer to the world is everything that exists outside ourselves. The outer circle is composed of material things, the tangible, the stuff we see with our senses. Now, Daidouji, what material things make up your world?"
Tomoyo tilted her head to the side and hazarded, "Tomoeda?"
"Specifically what in Tomoeda?"
"My home, my school."
"Exactly, and everything in your home and school." He gestured around him, "The sights, the smells, the sounds, they all make up your world. What else?"
Tomoyo racked her brain, school and home were the only places she spent much time at. She gave World Terada a bewildered look. "The park?"
World Terada leaned on his staff and sighed, "Yes, the park is also apart of your world. But I was thinking about Sakura's house, you do spend an awful lot of time there."
"But the truth, Daidouji, is that you use to spend a lot of time there." Trumpet Yamazaki was right, now that Sakura had left town, Tomoyo wouldn't be going over there anymore.
World Terada had moved back to the board, he pointed to the inner circle, "Now this circle represents the people who make up your world. Daidouji, who are the people that make up your world?"
Tomoyo began rattling off a list of names, "There's my family, my mother, my grandfather; my friends, Sakura-chan, Li-kun," she wasn't sure if she should mention Kero in front of this pair. "Chiharu-chan, Rika-chan, Naoko-chan." She glanced uneasily at Trumpet Yamazaki. "Yamazaki-kun," she continued. World Terada wrote up each name on the board, within the inner circle. "I guess you could include Kinomoto-sensei, Kinomoto-sand and Tsukishiro-san as well."
Tomoyo shivered as the chalk scratched its way along the board, names trailing in its wake. Using the staff, World Terada pointed at his diagram, "This, Daidouji, represents your whole world, correct?" he asked.
Tomoyo smiled, it was nice to see your world mapped out before you and to find that it was full and wonderful. "Yes," she answered simply.
"Wrong," stated World Terada. Tomoyo's smile fell off her face and smashed on the floor. "This is not your world, Daidouji." Tomoyo felt shaky as he scrubbed out the triangular haired stick figure. "It's someone else's." He swung the marbled globe around to her and demanded, "Whose?"
She could only blink in bewilderment as World Terada's gaze bored into her.
A trumpet blared and then the fake Yamazaki hollered, "I can tell you, sensei, I can."
"Go ahead then."
"The truth is that Daidouji's world is really Sakura's."
"Correct." He drew another stick figure in the center of his chart, but this time it had circular hair, like it was wearing a helmet, and had a staff in one hand. Pointing at each word, he said, "This school is really Sakura's school, these people are all Sakura's friends."
"They're also my friends."
"Are you sure?" World Terada twirled his staff and stepped closer. "Does Chiharu turn to you when she's upset? Does Naoko ever tell you her troubles? Does Yamazaki? Does Rika? The answer is they don't, they don't turn to you, they turn to Sakura."
Trumpet Yamazaki piped up again, "The truth, Daidouji, is that you have no friends." The horn blared harshly in her ear.
World Terada smugly looked at the other names, "And we all know that Syaoran, Fujitaka, Touya, Yukito and even your great-grandfather prefer Sakura before you."
Tomoyo looked at the board, "But surely my mother is my own, not Sakura-chan's?"
"Let's think about that for a minute." He paced in front of the blackboard. "Doesn't you mother prefer to have Sakura around? Doesn't she make excuses to stay at home when she hears that Sakura is coming over? She never cancels a business appointment to be with you, does she Daidouji? Doesn't your mother seem so much more brighter, so much more alive when Sakura is with her?"
"The truth, Daidouji, is that your mother is more of an aunt to Sakura then a mother to you," said Trumpet Yamazaki as he leaned his chair towards her, balancing it on two legs.
At the blackboard, World Terada had redrawn the Tomoyo stick figure, but this time on the very edge of the outermost circle. "We've proved, Daidouji, that it's all Sakura's world and you're just living in it."
"The truth, Daidouji, is that you have no world, and the world doesn't want you."
Tomoyo spun to face him. "Stop saying that what you speak is the truth," she hissed, "If you're anything like Yamazaki-kun then all you should be able to speak are lies."
Trumpet Yamazaki appeared satisfied. "I speak the truth, Daidouji. It is you who believes in lies."
"How can what I experience day after day be a lie?" she demanded.
"Because you believe it," he stated, "and if you believe in a lie, then doesn't it become a truth?" He and the fake Terada-sensei seemed to loom over her, drawing the walls inward to slowly crush the life out of her. The menace that had always been in the room awoke and started to curl itself around her. Tomoyo bent her head to protect herself from the crash that would surely come.
Her head shot back right up when she heard the door rattle. She was alone in the classroom again; World Terada and Trumpet Yamazaki had disappeared. The door slid completely open and in stepped Eriol.
"School's finished for the day, Daidouji-san." He smiled.
Tomoyo looked around her in a daze. "Oh, I was just thinking," she said as she got to her feet, feeling as if the situation required an explanation. "What are you doing here anyway?" It seemed as if she asked Eriol that question a lot lately.
"I had to give you this," Eriol held up a red, spiral bound notebook. "You left it in the music room. Did you find your grammar book?" He began to thread his way through the maze of desks and chairs.
"Oh," Tomoyo suddenly remembered why she was here in the first place, "My grammar book." She went to open her desk but snatched her hands away in pain.
Eriol had noticed her discomfort. "Daidouji-san," he murmured with concern, "you've hurt yourself." Tomoyo realized that he was right, her fingers were all bruised and swollen, she had a dim memory of them being slammed under the desk's lid. While she was sorting through her memory, trying to access what had happened while she was in this room, Eriol had sandwiched her hands between his. He muttered something under his breath; it could have been a powerful spell or his shopping list for all she knew. Immediately her fingertips started to tingle and little blue arcs of lightning appeared and crawled over her hands. Within seconds it was over, Eriol lightly kissed the back of each hand before saying, "All done."
Tomoyo stared at her hands as if she couldn't recognize them; even though they both looked like they were suppose to look. She tried to remember if the back of her hand was supposed to have that tiny star shaped scar. While she was gazing in amazement at the wonders of ancient magic, Eriol had fetched that wayward grammar book himself. He handed it, along with the red notebook, his excuse to see Tomoyo again, to her with a flourish, "For you."
"Thank you," Tomoyo cradled the books in her arms, "not only for this but for these as well." She flapped her newly healed hands, but this shifted the books and they fell from her grasp, clattering to the floor, pages fluttering in a parody of birds wings. "Oh, dear."
Tomoyo quickly rescued the books and this time crammed them safely into her backpack. Eriol's attention had been on something else, "These are yours, Daidouji-san?" As he handed her two small cards, the events of a few minutes ago clicked back into place. "They fell out of you textbook, do you use them as bookmarks?"
The two cards were just like that Joker Clow card from a few nights ago, they both had the out of focus edges and the cloudscape backs, but each had a different picture on the front. One was of the fake Yamazaki, except this figure's trumpet wasn't a toy plastic one, it was the proper one you find in marching bands or orchestras, and, like his robes, it was golden. The other card showed a picture of the imposter Terada-sensei, again in the same shimmering robes and brandishing that strange staff with the realistic Earth spinning on top. At the bottom of the Yamazaki card was printed 'The Judgment' while 'The World' was printed below the picture of Terada-sensei.
"Yes, they're mine." She practically snatched them out of his hands and stuffed them into her pocket. Again, she had physical evidence that these visits weren't a product of her imagination, but what did it mean? She pushed that question away to answer later. Grabbing her bag, she started to move towards the exit. "We better go before they lock us in."
"We could always escape through the window," Eriol smiled mischievously and held the door open for her.
"From three floors up?" Tomoyo asked incredulous.
"I could make us some wings," he said, as if wings were something simple to make, like a cake. Just combine your ingredients, mix well, bake for half an hour and, tada, your very own wings, ready to fly.
"From what? Pencil shavings," she suggested jokingly.
Eriol seemed to take her seriously, "I would have used paper, paper's the best material for wings. Though pencil shavings might work," he considered, staring up at the ceiling, "but they'd be quite stiff and not very maneuverable, they'd probably break apart in strong winds. I guess they'd be good for short glides only." He smiled at her again and said, "That's if you don't mind getting dusted with graphite."
Tomoyo was all mock annoyance, "I think I would mind. This uniform is very difficult to clean." She delicately smoothed out non-existent creases in her shirt while looking pointedly at Eriol's flour ravaged uniform.
Her look found its mark and Eriol self-consciously brushed at his sleeves and lapel. "If you don't like my wings then you can stay trapped in the classroom," his voice changed from offended to inspired, "while I soar free through the clouds."
"Clouds of graphite most likely," she snickered.
Eriol looked wounded. "If you're going to take that attitude," he said in hurt tones, "then I may as well lock you in the school right now," he ended in triumph and sprinted his way to the exit.
Tomoyo pelted after him. "Don't you dare, Hiiragizawa!" she shouted, trying to stop herself from laughing so she'd have some breath for running.
"Try and stop me," he called over his shoulder, as they thundered down the halls, their footsteps echoing on ahead to clear the way. Classroom doors and windows flashed by like a speeding train. They hurtled down steps, using the banister as both an anchor and a guide. They rounded a corner at top speed, their shoes squealing in protest, and the door to the genkan swung into view, the light at the end of the tunnel. They both accelerated.
Eriol smacked into the door, Tomoyo crashed against him seconds later. There was a moment where the both of them were pressed against the door like bugs smashed to a windshield, but then they peeled slowly backwards and toppled to the floor.
"It's a pull door, Hiiragizawa," Tomoyo accused.
"I realize that now, Daidouji," Eriol sniped back.
Tomoyo started laughing, Eriol immediately twisted around in concern. "Are you okay, Daidouji? You didn't hit your head?" He peered anxiously at her temple. That only made her laugh louder.
"I'm fine," she said, forcing the laughter down before she ended up laughing her lungs out. "It's just," she spluttered, "a powerful magician can't even open a door." A bout of giggles erupted so she tried to bury them in her arms. After a while, she realized that Eriol had gone strangely silent, she looked over her sleeve to see if he was still there.
Eriol had been watching her intensely. As her eyes met his, he said, "You know I wouldn't have really locked you in, don't you, Daidouji-san?" On the surface, the question radiated slight apprehension, a desire for assurance, but in the depths there lurked something else, something urgent and necessary, that needed to be satisfied.
There he went again, asking for something that she wasn't sure she could give. Tomoyo took the question on face value, "I know you were only kidding, Hiiragizawa-kun." A shutter went down behind Eriol's eyes, but Tomoyo continued, "Do you think we could get up now?"
Eriol got smoothly to his feet and then offered a hand to Tomoyo. He pulled her up in one fluid motion. Tomoyo looked down at her uniform in dismay. "Look what you've done," she cried, showing off the flour that covered her front.
"Now we match," smirked Eriol, it turned into a smile at the sight of her frown.
Stepping lightly past him, Tomoyo placed a hand on the door handle. "Watch carefully, Hiiragizawa-kun," she said sweetly, "to open a pull door you turn the handle and draw the door towards yourself, like so." She repeated the motion to a resigned Eriol, then stepped back and said, "Now you try."
While rolling his eyes, Eriol executed the maneuver perfectly. He offered his arm to Tomoyo. "May I?"
Tomoyo gave a little curtsey and graciously accepted. Arm in arm, the two students walked through the door, their footprints marked out in flour.
AN: I picked Daisetsuzan National Park as the place Sakura goes to because I needed somewhere that was still in Japan but far away from Tomoyo. I'm probably wrong, but I always thought that Tomoeda was near Tokyo, because I thought that that red Eiffel Towerish tower that Sakura tends to dream about and is home to many magical battles was Tokyo Tower. So, I assumed that Tomoyo's near Tokyo and threw Sakura all the way up north, on the island of Hokkaido. I'm probably wrong about Fujitaka being an archaeologist too.