Disclaimers, dedications, etcetera, etcetera, see chapter one.
Normally, Spinel wouldn't have pried into Eriol's affairs; he didn't find them to be that interesting, truth be told. His master liked having secrets and plots and they were used to it. But normally, he didn't try hiding those things from his guardians.
Three weeks ago, Eriol had come back from the Kinomoto house with a cheerful story about cooking with his heir and Daidouji-san, a more mischievous story about setting Kerberos loose on the deserts, and a hand nonchalantly in his pocket throughout both. It was a red flag.
A red ribbon, actually.
He'd been willing to pass it off at first. Eriol had, after all, mentioned that Kerberos had been tied up in a ribbon. Oversight that he hadn't mentioned that he had felt the need to take it away with him, that was probably all it was. It was a sensible explanation. Entirely possible that he didn't even find it worth mentioning.
Except…he kept his hands in his pockets all the time now, and was strangely cautious when he took them out, as though there was something there he didn't want spilling into view. His reactions to either of them offering to fetch a pen from his backpack for him was a very rigid calm and "No, I'll get it myself, thank you." Every book he read now, every one of them, had a red ribbon marker. Not much, that, but Eriol didn't put those books down. If he was interrupted it went into a pocket; at night, into the drawer of his bedside table. Only when he finished them did they go onto the shelves, and with no sign of a ribbon.
Spinel was a patient creature, though, and the three weeks it took before his master relaxed enough to leave it unattended didn't bother him at all. Because he really was very cat-like, he felt no guilt about spending so much time lulling Eriol into a false sense of security.
It was only for a minute, a classmate ringing to confirm details of a trip out the next day, but it was all Spinel needed. He launched silently from the sofa as the door clicked shut, and landed next to the book his master had finally set down. He could hear Eriol's polite greeting as he hurriedly flipped pages until he found it.
Physically, it was a long, thin, red silk ribbon. After three weeks, it smelt strongly of Eriol – which meant it really had been going everywhere with him. A faint, very faint, scent lingered that Spinel did not know. He recognized it, but he didn't know to whom it belonged. Eriol brought it home with him every day after school and after outings with his friends. Spinel had caught it a few times as they watched from downwind while Sakura changed the Clow cards. It had even been on Keroberus that disastrous day at the school.
From school might have been any of his classmates, a Sunday trip to Tokyo narrowed it down to just friends. Its presence while the cards were being changed meant that it belonged to either Sakura or Tomoyo. That it had been on Keroberus' fur gave weight to it being Sakura's.
However, his observations of the card mistress did not fit with the smell from the ribbon. It was exceptionally feminine; light and floral, quite delicate, with hints of very expensive perfume where its ends might have brushed against the owner's neck. Not precisely what he thought athletic, practical, innocent Sakura would be comfortable with.
More importantly, he didn't get any traces of power other than his master's off of it. Even if it had been new it should have carried something of Sakura's energy if it belonged to her. It didn't smell new, nor did it look new to Spinel's sharp eyes.
Those facts pointed to it most likely being Daidouji-san's.
Three seconds after opening Eriol's book, he shut it again and went back to his own. Fitting himself back along the warm imprint on the sofa he'd just left, he realized that his new-found answers about the ribbon had only brought more questions that were going to be less easily illuminated.
Frankly, Spinel would have been happier if his master's affairs had remained dull.