A CHANCE ENCOUNTER

Note: Cardcaptor Sakura is © CLAMP

I apologize for my terrible French. ½ of it is online translation and ½ of it is from one year of high school French.

Also, thanks for the reviews. I didn't know that they would, or could, come so fast. It makes me deliriously happy just thinking about them. I'm very humbled …

CHAPTER 2

"Attention: Boarding for flight A613 bound for Japan has now begun. Will all first class and business class passengers please approach the gate now." It wasn't fair. She shouldn't have to leave… she didn't want to leave. France had become such a familiar place to her. The weather, the atmosphere, everything about it she loved. Loved so much…

"Attention : L'embarquement pour le vol A613 en route pour Japon a commencé maintenant. Fera tous passagers de première classe et classe affaires approchent le portail maintenant." But that person last week was... intriguing. I want to meet him again. And this time I want to ask him for a drink. I should have let him… I wanted him to… why… dad and Touya would be furious… if you were so interested in him why didn't you take the initiative stupid? Oh stupid…who am I kidding… I'm never gonna see him again.

"Will rows 25-49 approach the gate now. Les rangées de volonté 25 à 49 approchent svp la porte maintenant." Row 28A. Her turn… in economy class. She was rich enough to be in business class but... Her father and brother were already inside, sitting in business class seats. Business class… reclining chairs that could lower themselves to become beds, unlimited snacks and drinks… reclining chairs… reclining chairs… Row 28A. Back to Japan.

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"Ahhhh! I'm so tired!" Sakura twisted her body back and forth, over and under, stretching it out, trying to relieve the kinks from flying for over 16 hours straight. The economy seat didn't help either. She could have gotten a business class seat but no, she didn't want to trouble her father for the sake of less than a day's worth of comfort. Discomfort was natural. Needed. $500 saved. Good enough.

She took out a packaged sugar cube that she had "taken" from Paul, unwrapped it, and sucked on it. The delicate sweetness filled her entire mouth and the sugar cube crumbled up in her mouth, like candy. Nibbling on it gave it a crunchy effect that after 5 minutes produced more aching front teeth than anything else, but sucking on it was wonderful.

The frost-covered window displayed a birds-eye view of Japan. Mt. Fuji. It was already covered with snow. And it just looked… wonderful. Homey. Home at last.

Augh… the lurch of the stomach as the plane descended made sakura feel sick and at the same time relieved. And the sudden jump as the wheels touched land and the shaking of the plane and the roar of the engines filled her with happiness. Tomoyo… I have so much to tell you. I can't wait to see you at school. School. Tomorrow. She wanted to skip school right then and there. There was still time. It was still morning. She had time to get used to Japan again.

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She wanted a new shirt. She had 5000 yen to spend… and 3 hours to spend it. Department stores were messy and sometimes confusing, but they had a wide selection. Maybe a designer shirt? Maybe a designer shirt would be too expensive. Perhaps a ruched t-shirt would be nice. Black with pink polka-dots. And a pair of earrings to go along with that. Sakura made for a rack of colorful shirts and started browsing, pushing aside the ones she had already looked at. "Think of Me" from the Phantom of the Opera played in the background. They barely had English music here, but the ambience it created was nice. Sakura took a particularly short tube dress off the rack and examined it. It was made from terry cloth.

"Don't you think that would look a bit strange on your figure?" What? That voice… no… it couldn't be…

She whipped her head around to see who was commenting on her selection and met a grinning face. What? Why was he here? What is he doing in Japan? He's supposed to be in France. Oh my god. Is it my legs? Is it because he really thinks I have sexy legs and he can't get it out of his head and he's followed me all the way to Japan? Is he stalking me?

"Funny coincidence… meeting you here… sir." This is just too strange. I need to get out of here. Sakura put the dress back on the rack and slowly edged away from the figure of Li Syaoran.

"I think you should get some kind of skirt to go with the shirt you're wearing. Maybe an A-line with eyelet trimming. That would be nice." Now he's making suggestions about what I should wear? How rude!

"Thank you for your suggestions, but I think I can do my shopping on my own. Nice meeting you again." Sakura rushed toward the escalator. He grabbed her arm again. Is this the part where I get dragged off with his hand clamped at my mouth?

"Would you like to get a drink?" He asked me! He really asked me… No. This was too strange. Maybe he came to Japan just to apologize. Maybe he really wanted a drink. Maybe he would drug the beverage. Maybe… No. I just need to leave. I need to meet Tomoyo anyway.

"No thank you, um…"

"It's Li. Li Syaoran, remember?"

"No thank you Li-san. I have a previous engagement and I'll be late if I don't go."

"At least tell me your name? You didn't tell me back there." Why would it matter? She was never going to see him again. Then again, she didn't think she'd ever see him again in France and here he was, right in front of her, in Japan, in the same department store. Why would he want to know? Did names matter to him? Did he have a complex about names? Perhaps he would look her name up. Or maybe visit her house and kidnap her. But he didn't look all too dangerous. But...

"Kinomoto Sakura. My name is Kinomoto Sakura. Good day, Li-san." And Sakura rushed to the escalator and disappeared from sight.

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Sakura… what a beautiful name. I hope I see you again soon... Li Syaoran put his hands in his pockets and casually walked toward the shoe department.

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"… and he what?" Daidouji Tomoyo bore her deep violet eyes into Sakura's bottle green ones and leaned forward, clutching a pillow against her body.

"He told me I had sexy legs. I mean, the nerve. I'm crouching there, picking up my beret and he tells me I have sexy legs. He doesn't even cover his eyes or say that I shouldn't let my legs show like that."

"Was he a pervert?"

"I don't know… I mean… he was hot. Definitely hot. And he wore Gucci shoes. You know how much Gucci shoes cost? They're soooo expensive." Sakura shifted her elbow off a remote control and put her head against Tomoyo's egyptian cotton duvet cover. Unlike most of Tomoyo's things, her bedsheets weren't handmade by Tomoyo's skillful hand.

"Mmm… maybe he was trying to make a compliment?"

"Compliment? What kind of jerk suddenly makes a random compliment about your legs while you're red with embarrassment?"

"Dunno… anything else happen?" Sakura got up and jumped off of Tomoyo's bed. Her purse lay on Tomoyo's custom-made bedside table. She opened it and took out two Paul sugarcubes, jumped back on the bed, and placed them into Tomoyo's open hand.

"Went to the bakery every day and ate pastries. Saw the Louvre… saw the Mona Lisa… it really wasn't that interesting to me. They had a lot of… Greek statues. Lots of naked marble people." Sakura watched Tomoyo unwrap the peach packaging off the sugar cube. "Put it in your mouth and let it crumble. It's really good."

"Ooh… it's like… almost lemony. Well that's good. Bring me back anything?" Tomoyo's face changed to amusement as she felt Sakura tense up. Sakura hated people asking her to bring back souvenirs, hated buying them, and hated looking at them. She felt that they had no value.

"You did that to piss me off, huh?"

"I love seeing you get riled up, dahhhling. By the way, Chiharu convinced the student board to let us have a prom-type dance at the end of the year. She said she told them something about 'experiencing cultures of different countries' or something like that. You know what that means, don't you?" Tomoyo let go of the pillow and strolled over to one of the eighteen doors of her closet. As she pulled on the door and released a complex system of folding doors that opened her entire closet, vibrant colors of all sorts popped out. Tulle, satin, lace. Dresses, dresses, dresses, more dresses. Sakura bit her lip. Tomoyo is thinking of something… I know she is… and it's not just making my dress like she does for everything…

"Yes… I think…"

"WE ARE GOING TO SOMETHING WITH YOUR ANTISOCIALNESS. WHAT KIND OF CHEERLEADER IS ANTISOCIAL? AND WITH GUYS FOLLOWING HER IN HOARDS TRYING TO ASK HER OUT? Goodness." You don't need to shout Tomoyo…

"I'm not interested in anyone. I'm not. I can't force myself to like a guy can I? Last time you and Chiharu pulled one of these American-style get-togethers off you tried to get me to go with Eriol and everyone knows that Eriol wanted to go with you." Tomoyo said nothing. She opened a drawer and pulled out yellow measuring tape, one of the 10 or so measuring tapes she stored in her designing closet. She let it roll down and cracked it, like a whip.

"Well, we'll see. In the meantime, hold out your arms. I think your breasts grew." Tomoyo never said boobs. It was always breasts. Body parts were said in formal language, even in casual conversations. That about Tomoyo gave her an air of elegance that no one else had at the high school level.

"… he didn't say anything about my boobs though." Tomoyo's tape wrapped around her natural waist.

"Mmm… who? That Li guy?"

"Yeah, and I saw him again today too. At the department store. He told me not to buy a tube dress. I was just looking at it and he just came up to me and told me to get a skirt. Can you believe that?"

"Did he tell you or was it a suggestion? Baby, your legs grew too. They're 2 cm longer than last time I made you a dress." Sometimes Tomoyo was so into her work that she didn't hear much of what people told her. But her work was so wonderful. It was hard to find anything wrong with Tomoyo… she was… a perfect friend. And a budding fashion designer.

"I guess it was a suggestion… but… I don't know. It just kind of pissed me off." Tomoyo wrote down the final measurements on a piece of paper and put the measuring tape back into the drawer. "What color should the dress be?" Sakura walked over to the closet and started examining Tomoyo's various bolts of cloth.

"Hm… I don't know. Maybe something iridescent? Like taffeta with tulle overlay? You have dresses made from almost everything I have in here… maybe I should get something new… beading… ehhhhh…" She was so dedicated to her work. Sakura secretly wished she could be like her friend.

"Why don't we think about it later? We have a month, right?"

"Right…" Tomoyo turned to look at the clock on her table. "You should go home now… Touya might get worried."

"Doubt it. But yeah it's late… thanks Tomoyo. I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"

Sakura and her best friend hugged and said their good nights. The best friend watched her auburn-headed friend walk down the street, illuminated every 15 seconds or so as she walked past a streetlamp, eventually fading into the blue-black darkness. Started weeping. Sobbing.

I don't know. I really don't know… how do I tell you my feelings? I'm so disgusting… and if anyone found out… why do I have to be like this…? Oh, Sakura… please come back to me and tell me I'm not so… so… …