A/B: I am BACK! . . .not really. I had this chapter written a long time ago but I just never had the nerve to post because I feel that it had dragged too much. I also have a job now, thank you, and that is actually the reason why I am putting a temporary stop to all other activities including writing. But please be assured that even when I'm teaching Koreans some decent English I have this fanfic in my mind.

Thank you to 0jaz0, ChristabelSB, James Birdsong, and cheng for reviewing. And I appreciate all those who still read and support this fanfic. Enjoy! :)


Act 31, Winter

Tomoyo felt so incredibly soft and warm when he hugged her from behind, and he yielded to the temptation of pulling her closer to his chest that night and drowning himself senseless to the unlikely rapture.

The jarring sound of the door scraping against the tiled floor pulled him abruptly back to reality that his mind reeled severely, leaving him disoriented about where he was and who was creating the noise.

Eriol looked up and found himself alone in the room. The next contestant had been called to perform on stage, and that person was the one who caused the cacophony and interrupted his daydream.

Kuso, he cursed in his head, realizing twelve hours too late how ridiculous it was to jump on Tomoyo like that even when he was experiencing the adrenaline rush, the euphoria of having qualified for the finals of his first piano competition. It was pointless, and it was insensitive and again out of character of him to lose composure. The girl was definitely going to think he was a pervert, and this careless and impulsive action of his would cost her audience today.

He groaned to his reflection in the mirror.

This was not the right time to get sidetracked because his turn in the competition was going to be up in less than an hour and he needed to be mentally prepared instead of regretting over what he had done last night.

Thankfully, he couldn't see her face when it happened, or he would have seen a face of disgust and horror and he would have felt disappointed of her reaction. Then again the raven-haired young woman would not openly show her feelings but she must have been appalled by his actions.

What am I talking about? I never cared much about these things before. Why start now?

These were questions that he asked himself over and over again.

The pianist ran a pale hand down his face, willing the thoughts to go away and failing anyway.

Syaoran's somber face in one of their recent conversations drifted to his mind, at the exact moment where his friend was telling him something about his needless involvement with one Daidōji heiress, and Eriol cursed again, vocally this time that he surprised himself of his own annoyed voice that sounded hollow against the four walls of the waiting room.

He would deal with Tomoyo's predicament later and decide on the best course of action about her quandary. Right now he needed to face the music he had been eluding from since he was a child.

It was just about time.


Tomoyo squirmed beside Nakuru, who was oblivious of the girl's restiveness since the start of the finals. Her usual cover up of plain clothes one size bigger than her frame and cool, gray contacts should be enough consolation but there was no helping her anxiety in spite of this and the temporary comfort of the darkness in the auditorium.

There hadn't been any more reports about the Daidoji Corporation or Aozora Group on television or newspapers, nevertheless it was still somewhat unsettling as if she was tautly waiting for a time bomb to blow off anytime soon.

A steady sound redirected her focus. A low murmur could be heard among the spectators as the third contestant clumsily left the stage. Even the audience could pass an initial judgement over the final performances. There was excitement among the guests and it was somehow contributing to the electric anticipation in the contest that afternoon as restless relatives, friends and mentors alike had come to show their steadfast support for the finalists.

"Li-kun said he'd be here but I don't see him anywhere," the nurse said, searching among the audience. The amber-eyed Chinese didn't sit with them when the contest started, and with the limited light it was impossible to see everybody's faces. "Do you think he might have canceled at the last minute, Tōya?"

Sakura wasn't able to make it despite her promise to see her cousin perform in the last round because of an unexpected photo shoot in Tokyo, but Syaoran had surprisingly pledged his attendance regardless of his seemingly hectic schedule.

"I am certain the gaki is here but I will not even bother knowing where he really is right now," Tōya Kinomoto mumbled to himself, rather thinking aloud. The young doctor pinched the bridge of his nose again and melted against his chair, still groggy from having to work a double shift that ended just a few hours ago. Nonetheless, he insisted that he should not miss his cousin's performance, saying that moral support was the least he could give to Eriol. As a childhood friend, Nakuru had even done the same.

Moral support. Yes, that is what I am here for, even if I know I am just risking my safety.

There was a five minute interval in every performance, and Eriol's turn was next. The former heiress sat stiffly on her seat and then shifted again, unable to stay still in heavy expectation. It was either this moment or the one they both shared last night that attributed to this renewed restless energy. But she liked to convince herself that the latter was the more plausible cause.

What good reason do you have for encouraging awkward thoughts about last night?

She still had to convince herself that what ever happened between them did not have to matter. Reading too much into things would not be very wise.

Her hands seemed to have suddenly recalled the clammy feeling under the uncomfortable linen gloves they wore the previous night and had now started to react the same way even without the gloves on as the familiar figure of the azure-eyed young man appeared on the almost bare stage.

She was praying a silent prayer just when the pianist planted his fingers on the ivory and ebony panels. Her action was not caused by her inability to believe in the dark-haired man, but by her wish to stop her heart from drumming against her chest too fast at this vision before her.

Then suddenly Eriol's music started to fill the whole auditorium, carefully building up like a looming march of a doleful harmony. The piece he chose to play was altogether an exceptional and poignant interpretation of Beethoven that unanimously detained the audience's interest. It was a miserable and liberating melody at the same time that had now swelled in a feverish rage.

Tomoyo blinked as if she had just seen Eriol for the first time. His hair looked darker in the spotlight and his skin shone in contrast to his tuxedo. Long fingers weaved themselves expertly on the keys in front of him. He was such a sight to behold, an ethereal portrait of a pianist both in agony and in pleasure.

The pianist came to a sudden fermata that she, along with the rest of the spectators, had to hold her breath. The suspension was necessary for the next measure, and just as he successfully punctuated his music, he began with a rich tone that astounded everyone again, dropping the old facade of his music to reveal its true intention. Tōya had completely woken up from his stupor and had gaped, never expecting that his cousin could even surpass himself.

The soaring array of emotions completely surrounded her, tugging at her heart painfully as she remembered how the pianist enclosed his arms around her and stole her strength away. Her vision blurred just as the inevitable final bar of the cantabile made itself known. She wanted to believe this suffocating ache of seeing him there on the gleaming stage was instigated by her overwhelming respect for the pianist and not by anything more selfish like—

Love?

A tear rolled off her alabaster cheek before it soundlessly fell on her joined hands.

Can you afford it, Tomoyo?

Of course, she couldn't. Until she stopped pretending to be somebody else, until she acknowledged her fate, and until she ceased depending on this man she could never allow herself to burden anyone with such meaningless sentiments. She would be contented with her objective pride for Eriol, and she wouldn't ever complain.


Quick notes:

kuso - (curse word)