A/N: I blame Michiyo Fujiwara for inspiring me to update a story most would have already forgotten. Aiming to finish this before my birthday on the 27th of this month, no thanks to bulleting the plot points all the way to the ending this time (first time I ever did so for a fanfic—and I've been writing for the past 14 years!).

Aja, Syaowee!

…

CHAPTER 6

"I don't believe that one bit."

"Don't believe what, Daidouji-san?"

Tomoyo (and perhaps Eriol from the other end of the portal) were watching their past selves walk towards a row of residential apartments, clutching a beautifully-wrapped bouquet of dark pink roses and yarrows. She was about to reply when Past Tomoyo spoke up at that instant.

"She will not leave things just like that."

"Pardon me?" Past Eriol turned to her, surprised.

He was met by a pair of lovely lilac eyes, which in a span of several hours he had seen transform from cool politeness to embarrassment, to confusion and then gleeful victory. But he wasn't prepared for what he would see in them next, despite knowing her full capacity for it from the day he first met her.

Kindness.

"Mizuki-sensei," she clarified gently, "will not care for society's eyes so much that she will leave her most precious person behind."

The Londoner paused, weighing silently how he would respond to that, but she continued anyway. "She must have an important reason for doing it. We never quit on the people we love, Hiiragizawa-kun."

"Thank you," he intoned, a little more curtly than he would have allowed.

"Hiiragizawa-kun seems—how do your people say it—a little shirty?" Tomoyo remarked wryly.

"Daidouji-san knows how to push all of this poor fellow's buttons in all the wrong ways," Eriol agreed apologetically.

But Past Tomoyo gave him a graceful exit. "We're here." She gestured to the elevator. "Mamoru-san lives on the fourth floor. Now, I understand Hiiragizawa-kun has a thing with elevators, so I do hope he restrains himself from trying anything odd today." The doors opened, and the couple stepped in.

"Duly noted." He bent to press '4' and the close-doors button on the panel. The doors slid close in response. "But, pray tell, who told you about my elevator fetishes?"

"Li-kun made sure to educate us about your many endearing qualities, Hiiragizawa-kun," she replied as she felt the elevator move.

"Ah, my descendant as my biggest fan! Who knew?" The blue-haired male chuckled, as the doors slid open on Floor 2. A mother with three spirited, laughing little children stepped in, lost in their merry ruckus.

"May I push the button for you, Ma'am?" asked the Londoner politely.

The harassed-looking face of the young mother broke into a grateful smile. "Thank you, fifth floor, if you may?" The male smiled and pressed on the panel, making the sliding doors close.

The raven-haired woman gingerly was stepping sideways to give the young family more space, just when the floor moved again.

She lost her balance, and would have nearly lurched forward if not for the delicate tug she felt around her tiny waist. Instead, she landed back on something warm and steady, and when she looked up, she was met by Eriol's cerulean eyes mirroring her own surprise.

Present Tomoyo felt her cheeks turn warm, like her past self that she was watching.

She saw him recover first. He gently steadied her on her feet, adjusting her hold on the bouquet. "Here. We don't want Mamoru-san's flowers smashed, do we?" He sounded like he normally did: affable, cheerful Hiiragizawa Eriol.

She nodded dumbly, ashamed that her heart was yet to slow down from its maddening pace. It was then that she felt a series of light but urgent pulls on her skirt. When she looked down, one of the kids was looking up at her with a bright smile.

"Ne, Onee-chan? May I have one of those?" The lad pointed to the bouquet nestled in her arms. "They look so pretty, and Mama has never gotten one of those before."

The mother's face flushed. "Ochiro! Don't say things like that!" She turned to the couple with a half-mortified, half-apologetic smile.

The blue-eyed male chuckled, and knelt down so he and Ochiro would be at the same height. With a swift flick of his finger, a lone dark pink rose appeared on his hand. The kid clapped in delight. "How did'ya do that?"

"Magic," he replied simply, as Floor 4 lit up. "Make sure you give this to your Mama with all your love. The rose will sense your feelings, and it will live longer than other flowers usually would."

"Thank you, Onii-chan!" nodded the child excitedly as he accepted the flower. "You must be the world's greatest magician!"

"Only the second best," he said modestly, as he and Past Tomoyo stepped out of the lift. Both waved to the family as the elevator doors began to slide close.

"Show-off," murmured Past Tomoyo, a sweet smile still fixed on her face as she waved cheerfully at the overjoyed Ochiro and his family.

"I was merely trying to impress Daidouji Tomoyo-san, who thinks so little of me- all because of that ONE time I decided to enchant an elevator," he shrugged. "I wasn't even going to let Sakura-san fall into an infinite dark abyss back then—I made sure there were colorful inflatables, huge stuffed bears, and cupcakes waiting for her at the bottom of that magical dimension I created."

"That was awfully thoughtful of you, Hiiragizawa-kun."

…..

"I am so sorry for making you worry, Miss," cried the elder pianist upon seeing Daidouji Tomoyo and a blue-haired stranger enter his bedroom. "Tis' nothing but a minor pain, I assure you, I will be back tomorrow!"

Past Tomoyo smilingly handed the old man her bouquet. "It's not a big deal, Mamoru-san. Please take as much time as you need to recuperate."

"You are too kind, Miss." His brown eyes shifted inquisitively towards the stranger, which she promptly acknowledged.

"Oh yes, Mamoru-san, please meet my friend, Hiiragizawa Eriol. He was a classmate from Tomoeda Elementary School, but he has been staying mostly in England."

"I am unloved by my friends here, so I thought staying abroad would encourage them to miss me more." The English man held out his hand for a friendly shake. ""How do you do, Mamoru-san?"

The elder Japanese merely stared at the outstretched hands wordlessly.

"Hiiragizawa-kun, I distinctly recall having told you about his arthritis earlier in the flower shop, yes?" Tomoyo asked, sweatdropping.

But before Eriol from the other side of the portal could reply, Mamoru-san spoke up. "Those fingers… yours are a pianist's hands." Instead of shaking Past Eriol's hands, the older man fondly placed his palm over them. "You've been playing the piano for a long, long time."

"You have no idea how right you are, Mamoru-san," sighed Past Tomoyo.

"Then," Mamoru's brown eyes turned pleading, "will you take my place as the choir pianist while I recover, Hiiragizawa-san?"

"Eh?" Past Tomoyo let out a small laugh, a slightest hint of discomfort perceived only by Past Eriol and the Present Tomoyo. "Mamoru-san, the girls and I will be happy to wait for you to get better. Besides, Hiiragizawa-kun is—"

"—worried beyond words for the choir," interrupted the younger male, an expression of utmost concern on his handsome face, "for I fear that without a proper accompaniment, they might find themselves locked in endless bastardized ABC- nursery rhymes as harmonization drills."

The elder male gasped, while both Past and Present Tomoyo's faces darkened.

"The girls might fall into the darkness of their despair and stop going to practices. The masses will find themselves missing the angelic voices of the choir, and church attendance will decrease significantly. The people of Tomoeda will turn to worldly vices because of the spiritual void left inside their hearts when they stopped hearing the good word of the Lord." Past Eriol cupped Mamoru's hands to his chest, gazing at him with big puppy eyes. "Do we want this to happen, Mamoru-san? For the lovely community of Tomoeda to fall into lawlessness and a shameful state of disgrace because a foolish pianist could not assist a fellow pianist in need TO STAND UP FOR WHAT IS RIGHT AND WHAT IS JUST?"

Mamoru's brown eyes sparkled in tears. "Hiiragizawa-san…"

"—that's why we are SO grateful that Hiiragizawa-kun agreed to play for us temporarily." Past Tomoyo subtly pulled back her friend's collar and threw him a saccharine smile. "One practice."

"I don't mind doing a month or two—"

"We don't wish to become a burden." Her smile couldn't widen more at this point without baring her littlest of fangs.

"I can't imagine you being a burden to me in any way, Daidouji-san," grinned the English male.

"Well, there IS a hydrotherapy spa my children have been begging me to try, but it's in another city," said the elder pianist tentatively.

A pause, and then, "Please go!" the young couple chirped in chorus.

"Wouldn't you mind, Daidouj-san?" asked Mamoru earnestly. "Isn't this too much to ask for someone who you've already given so much to?"

She firmly shook her head. "Please go, Mamoru-san. We look forward to seeing you then!"

"I will do my best to be your reliable keyboard proxy, Mamoru-san," added the Londoner smilingly.

"Very well then." Mamoru, in visible pain but equally determined, sat up and shook both of their hands gratefully. "Thank you, young master and young mistress."

…

As Present Tomoyo and Present Eriol watched their past selves leave the apartment, the latter suddenly remarked, "Mamoru-san seems to think highly of you, Daidouji-san. "

"Is that a fact," she replied plainly.

"I never got to ask you then, because your bodyguards were already waiting for you outside that day," he continued. True enough, a black limo pulled into the curb, followed quickly by the appearance of prim-looking, black-clad women. "But I've always wanted to ask you that."

"It all happened in the past," she answered evenly.

"Yet you're using that very same thing now to understand your present," he shot back.

"Fair point," she acknowledged ruefully. "Mamoru-san tried to kidnap me when I was in high school."

He whistled. "Now that's something I didn't see as coming."

"Yes. I was part of an outreach drive then, and snuck out of my bodyguards' sights because I worried they were scaring people away. It turns out Mamoru-san saw me with them earlier and thought I would make a good ransom. So when he had the chance, he cornered me."

"Then what happened?" Concern was unmistakable in Eriol's voice.

"Then I said I don't mind giving him the money he needs, just as long as we don't have to notify my mother. As you know, Daidouji Sonomi is a very busy woman, and I don't want to worry her unnecessarily." Tomoyo embraced herself involuntarily. "Mamoru-san might have taken pity on me, I'm not sure. He just decided to ask for extra food for his wife. I obliged, and asked if I could meet his wife. They were a nice old couple who happened to be in need. He was taking care of his wife, who was bedridden at that time. His wife never knew the extent of his love for her, that he was ready to sacrifice his liberty and conscience if only to provide for her."

"How did he start playing for the church?" he asked, and Tomoyo felt a little surprised how interested he was to hear about her. For someone who played a listener her whole life, she felt a mix of wonder and unease in being on the other side of the fence this time.

"I met him in church after a week—he came to pray and thank the Lord for his wife's recovery. I then thought that many come to church every day to ask for favors and divine interventions, but few remember to go back and say 'thank you' afterwards. I then realized he must be really a good person."

A small smile formed on her lips. "While chatting with him, I learned that he used to play in the orchestra before he and his wife eloped. He mainly played the violin, but the piano technically has strings, too, so I invited him to play for us. He self-taught himself, applying the musicality he knew by intuition, and pretty soon, he was doing minor concert pieces for us."

"No wonder you've earned that look of pure reverence in his eyes," quipped the male sorcerer.

"And it's something I feel totally undeserving of," she instantly retorted. "Others would have done the same."

"And then again, others would have not," he pointed out. "I may be wrong, Daidouji-san, but I think you're having a hard time accepting that you are capable of kindness… because you were too overwhelmed with guilt over something else."

Tomoyo fell silent.

…

Eriol, watching from the other end of the portal, felt something tug in his heart when he saw the pained expression on her face. "Daidouji-san, my apologies," he began remorsefully.

"No, perhaps you're right," she concurred softly. "I guess it's a novelty to be confronted so honestly, when everyone else feels the need to walk in tiptoes when reaching out to me. With you, it felt…" He saw her lilac eyes turn a shade of wistful. "… it felt that you took my hand and dragged me to the middle of the floor to dance, despite my best protestations…"

In his mind, he saw a vision of Daidouji Tomoyo in her monogrammed robe, a beautiful swirl of ebony tresses and purple silk as she danced in front of the snowy window one early evening. Him, resting on his large red armchair, entranced by the sight, and stunned when the ethereal vision captured both his hands and led him to the middle of the room. He saw her patiently place one of his now-clammy hands to her tiny waist, the other still clasped in the soft, silky touch of her hand.

He recalled being assaulted mercilessly by the fresh lemony scent of damask, splashed with various notes of wood and fruit. He remembered holding her closer to him, his gardening instinct telling him to take in as much of the fragrance as he could (for rose fragrance is most heavenly in dusk).

"Infinity doesn't lie in forever, it lies in now… when time stops still for us," she murmured. In response, his grip on her tightened in fear (of what, he did not wish to know at that time). But she showed no regard for his callousness; she laid her head on his pounding chest, and he, in turn, drew his face closer to the crown of her head.

And they danced, to their own capsule of infinity.

TO BE CONTINUED