Twelve years later.
It is 1920 and Sakura is 17 years old.
Her father is extremely over protective and her only friend is Tomoyo, her current servant.
Tomoyo has been her servant for almost twelve years now.
Sakura and Tomoyo sat on Sakura's pearl bed.
They were chatting, about their lives, the usual.
It was 6.00am.
Sakura had to get up bright and early for her tutor.
She was home tutored, Monday till Saturday for seven hours.
Her father had never allowed Sakura to go to public school; there would be boys and rudeness. Besides, according to her father, Sakura didn't need friends. She would grow up into a proper woman and marry a rich man, have children, do all the cooking and cleaning and become a proper housewife, like all good first class women.
Today was a Monday.
Sakura had always hated Mondays, it was always the beginning of yet another long week, they were not half as bad as Thursdays though.
Tomoyo always had her day off on a Thursday so Sakura was left alone, trapped in her own boredom.
Sakura never really had a proper conversation with her father.
Not that she could remember.
Unless you count "Sit up straight Sakura" or
"Pass the salt".
Sakura got into her under garments as Tomoyo tied up her corset.
Sakura flinched at every pull. She was sure she could hear her bones cracking underneath.
Next was her petticoat, layer by layer.
Although it was a high quality lace, it still itched like hell.
After that, came the hooped hem, which was what Sakura liked to think, the most horrid part of the outfit.
How could she be expected to sit down with her ankles past her chair when there was a huge hoop underneath her?
Going to the lavatory with that hoop was even worse.
And finally, came the actual dress.
Sakura picked her crimson ball gown.
It was stunning and Sakura looked beautiful.
It suited her figure and skin tone perfectly and it made her ebony hair gleam.
She smiled when she saw her reflection.
Tomoyo brushed Sakura's hair gently, not that it really need a brush and then she smiled to see that Sakura was admiring her reflection.
Tomoyo put the brush down on the dresser, wiped her hands on her pinafore and left the room.
Sakura's smile dropped as her friend left the room.
Time for another boring day, full of subjects.
Sakura didn't see why she needed to learn.
She didn't exactly need a job.
She was filthy rich.
She already knew how to do all the housewife chores like cook and clean, etc. So what was the point?
She was just grateful that, although it was boring it did kill time.
Time was her worst punishment.
Everything she had to do involved time.
Tomoyo always moaned she never had enough time.
Sakura sighed. She always had too much time.
She longed to go to public school, where she could have some fun, but it was no use.
Her father would never budge.
Sakura hated to admit it but deep down she was a tad bit jealous of Tomoyo.
She was so free.
Well, according to Sakura.
She never had too much time on her hands and she was never expected to act like an upper class lady.
She could do what she wanted and Sakura envied that.
Tomoyo did not have money but the largest sum of money could not make Sakura happy.
Sakura had all the money she could wish for, but all she could buy were material things.
She wished she could buy friends.
Sakura sighed at herself, always so negative.
Then off she went, down the stairs, on her time consuming journey of being home tutored.