A/N: Maybe you'd like to listen to Claude Debussy's Reverie while you read this. :D


Act 6, Autumn

It was a coincidence that Naoko Yanagizawa needed someone able to design her a gown and that fellow Aoiya waitress, Tomoyo Daidōji, wanted a new distraction.

"Do you seriously want to wear something like this in a wedding, Naoko-chan?" Amber-eyed Chiharu snickered at the sight of the ball gown fit for a five year old in front of them.

An overgrown five year old girl, that is. Their more reserved friend winced in her head and didn't dare to gape at all the orange ruffles and tulle, choosing to stick her business to the neat stacks of sketches before her that caught the morning sunlight from the ornate windows.

They were spending away their mutual rest day in the old neighborhood library that offered complimentary coffee and tea, picking out designs among the ones that Tomoyo had already drafted two days ago.

"Hideous would be an understatement," Naoko replied as she rolled her eyes at the ball gown her aunt had sent her all the way from Hokkaido to try. "This is why I commissioned Tomoyo-san to draw me a decent dress. I'd like to look like a person when I actually walk down that aisle."

"But you're not the one who's getting married."

The exchange of words despite friendly in nature made the dark-haired girl cringe inwardly again. Tomoyo was sure that any time now the librarian, who had been frowningly glancing their side once every five minutes and sitting in the distant corner, would ask them to leave. The poor woman had already told them to keep their noise down for the second time. The banter was disturbing the other people in the library, and so Tomoyo decided to divert the topic to a quieter one.

"I am still not charging you, Naoko-san," she said in a hushed, anyway embarrassed tone, pale cheeks stained in pink.

"Oh, hush. Consider it as additional income. This talent of yours shouldn't come for free, you know," the bespectacled young woman insisted lightheartedly before bringing the coffee cup to her lips again. "Didn't you mention you want to take another job? Why don't you try freelance designing?"

"That's a brilliant idea! Your designs are amazing. We'll help you look for customers, Tomoyo-chan. Who knows someday you might be discovered and become a top designer!"

"I'll post your designs in my blog, if it's okay with you. It'll attract potential clients."

"Japan will love you, and the whole world, too! Wouldn't that be great?"

Tomoyo didn't think being exposed to public like that was a particularly good idea, not when she had sensed that she was being followed around again these days, but the hopeful look that her two new friends were giving her made her accede at last.

"I...guess." Her voice was becoming more and more distant in her own ears. She forced a convincing smile on her face.

"Yoroshii!" Chiharu threw her fist in the air before happily enclosing a mortified Tomoyo in a hug.

It didn't take too long for the harassed librarian to finally ask them to leave the place.

So much for diversions.

The former heiress must have sighed for the umpteenth time that week.


"Did you know that Daidōji-chan is into clothes designing, too?" Eriol remembered Wei asking him that morning just after breakfast. "I accidentally picked up one of her sketches on the floor while she was rushing out for school today. She's one talented young woman, I must say."

In that note, the dorm manager mentioned about how late Tomoyo was up again. The lights in her room had been on until three in the morning, something that had been happening days after she came home one rainy afternoon looking assaulted and miserable.

"I worry about that girl sometimes. She seems to be trying too hard too distract herself, or perhaps she's running away from something." Wei had scratched his mustache at this, a habit that the old Chinese was apt to do when he was concerned about something. "What do you think, master Eriol?"

They weren't even friends to able to make a decent comment about Wei's statement, but the dark haired pianist was perceptive enough to be aware of Tomoyo's restless behavior. But no matter how hard he would try to convince himself that it was not his business to interfere in anybody's affairs, it was a bit late when he realized that he was already outside Aoiya, waiting for his dark-haired dorm mate to be relieved from her last part-time work. Regardless of his assurance to Wei that he would watch over the girl, Eriol surmised he was anyway already too drawn to the masquerade that the girl liked to engage in. Somehow his attention had been on her in the last few days.

What's one Tomoyo Daidōji doing in Tomoeda? He questioned himself as he leaned against the cool brick wall of the flower shop beside the restaurant. The thought didn't cross his mind very often, yet he was inclined to presume that there was something more about his co-mentor in Terada's music school, something like a secret that she had been running away from that was making her more and more paranoid these days.

But everybody is running away from something, his mind argued. Aren't you running away from your destiny? From your father?

"I am not running away from him, or from anything." He sounded angry and defensive, emotions that he didn't recognize right away because they were suppressed for too long. Wasn't he driving himself to the limits just to be acknowledged? Eriol ran a graceful hand on his face, willing the question to drift away. To calm himself, he immediately started playing Debussy's consoling music in his head, but while the melancholic Reverie flowed steadily, several images of Tomoyo invaded the deepest recesses of his disturbed mind. Her beautiful amethyst eyes filled his thoughts, confusing him further as the music was slowly building up in Eriol's ears.

"It's not right to think about her like that," the pianist told himself, stuffing his long, cold fingers in the trench coat pockets he was wearing.

It's not right to think about her in any way.

Some few minutes later, the cheerful chatter of the relieved workers shattered Eriol's brittle concentration.

"We did a good job tonight, Tomoyo-chan," that same girl, who had waited on him and his friends a week ago, said with a bow.

"You look very tired. Don't bother yourself with making sketches again tonight, okay?" The bespectacled young woman beside the girl in pigtails advised their dark-haired friend.

"Maa maa minna-san. Please don't worry about me anymore. A little headache is not going to slow me down." Tomoyo's voice seemed more high-pitched than usual.

They said their goodbyes before they turned their separate ways in the streets. In the softness of the street lights, Eriol had easily seen the smile that faded in Tomoyo's face the moment she made her way to the bus stop.

"You should listen to her."

The attempt to make his presence known to his kohai was definitely a mistake. Her startled expression bothered him as the wild, frightened look in those huge eyes pierced through his own.

"I am sorry, Daidōji-san. It was never my intention to scare you," he apologized, immediately concerned that he might have permanently robbed Tomoyo's voice from her.

"Hiiragizawa-san," the young woman finally mumbled in recognition, clasping her chest with a delicately small hand. "What are you doing here?"

Aa...the question of the night. What am I doing here?

"I was going to catch the next bus," he lied effectively, taking his place beside the distressed girl.

"Is that so?"

It wasn't meant to be a question but the young man was biased to reply just to eliminate the growing tension between them. Eriol knew he brought it upon himself, and admitted that it was anyway worth it, having confirmed that Tomoyo was indeed more agitated than the usual. The amethyst-eyed young woman couldn't stop staring at the darker corners of the deserted block, almost as if she was expecting somebody to materialize in the shadows.

"Did the American return to harass you, Daidōji-san?"

He made another effort at small talk just to ease the strain that seemed to stretch endlessly.

Perhaps it was just then that Tomoyo Daidōji remembered that she was not alone.

"No, he didn't," she quietly replied, looking away again, but this time out of embarrassment at having ignored her only companion in the bus stop for too long.

The senpai didn't realize how petite the Aoiya waitress really was until now. He was almost a foot taller than her, but that was a rather insignificant information to him now that his attention was again captured by the soft sheen of her long locks.

"Hiiragizawa-san," Tomoyo said unexpectedly before he could even reach and touch her mesmerizing hair. "I know it's extremely late to say this but...thank you for defending me that night. Who knows where he'll drag me if you hadn't come at all."

The words of gratitude were belated but he didn't even minded it at all. Eriol was too nonplussed that he could only nod back. His immediate reaction upon seeing the raven tresses was alarming him greatly, and he thought it best to keep his hands in his coat where they should belong at the moment.

Tomoyo, in the other hand, drifted to her own distant world again, mauve eyes somewhat glazed as she stared straight ahead. There was a slight blush on her porcelain face, a manifestation of how cold the air had become.

They talked about her treated burn for a moment, not exactly dwelling too much on details as it was an inevitable conversation. Just after the last words were said and the bus finally came, they fell in companionable silence this time.

She really must be so tired, Eriol thought to himself as he watched his dorm mate fall asleep the minute they started moving. That blush was still on her face despite the warmer temperature in the bus.

Before the bespectacled pianist could think of doing something silly again, he managed to look away from her sleeping form.

It was almost eleven in the evening when they finally reached the gates of the dormitory. Fortunately, it didn't rain like Eriol rather expected, but the temperature had dropped significantly at this time of the night.

In the dark, a thin haze materialized from his companion's lips and his own.

"Are you alright, Daidōji-san?" The senpai asked her upon seeing her sway a little when she was just removing her shoes by the front door.

"I'm alright," she muttered almost automatically with a weak wave of her hand. "I'm just tired. You go right in, senpai. My other shoe refused to be removed."

The girl's movement was remarkably slower this time as she clumsily tugged on her loafer again, he regarded in the corner of his eyes. Eriol knew right away that something was amiss, taking note of her jagged breathing and unfocused gaze. Just before he could ask if she would like something for her headache Tomoyo had already collapsed, her darkest hair splayed carelessly on the wooden floor.


Quick Notes:

yoroshii – "Great!"

maa maa – "Alright, alright."

minna – everybody