One life

by Nessa Yavetil

When you are a powerful mage who reincarnates after every death, you learn to come to terms with love and loss. You learn to enjoy things while they last. But, what happens when you fall for someone who makes you believe you could change your destiny? (Sequel to "Do you remember love?" READ THAT ONE FIRST!)

2. Breathe

2. Breathe

---

I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past
And coming back to life.

(Pink Floyd - Coming Back To Life)

---

…

There's something about me and mirrors that I probably should have mentioned before.

The thing is, I hate them.

I really hate them.

I think it started the first time I looked at one of them and saw a face that wasn't the one I was expecting to see. I was just a small child at the time, barely able to comprehend the world around me; but I was already starting to realize, in a vague and obscure way, that there was something strange, something unusually off about me.

The mirror gave me confirmation; confirmation that my worst fears were real, that the nightmares I had, the atrocious, unspeakable things I saw in dreams and flashes were not dreams at all, but things that actually happened. Memories.

My memories.

I was just a little child; too young to comprehend what was going on when I stared into the mirror for the first time and saw a face that wasn't the one I expected to see; a face I couldn't recognize as my own, a face that wasn't my face.

It was scary as hell. Because it was my face. It took me a while to understand it, to understand why I was that innocent kid who stared back at me from the polished surface with horror-filled eyes, and also that other person, that darker person I remembered from my dreams.

I thought that, with time, it would get easier. It never did. It took me an entire lifetime to get used to that new face, to recognize that image I saw as my new self, to not freak out every time I looked in the mirror.

Then I died again, and for an undefined lapse outside of time, there was peace. But that peace never lasted. Sooner or later, I found myself opening my eyes to the world again, in the flesh of another scared child, struggling with violent, terrible memories I couldn't process or understand with my childish brain; facing yet again another mirror that showed me a face I couldn't relate to, a face I'd have to get used to, all over again. And this horrible thing just kept happening; this moment of sudden, terrifying realization, this scene that repeated itself over and over again; each time with a different face and a different mirror, yet each time just as bloodcurdling as that first one.

Humans were never meant to be more than one person. It leads to insanity.

So, eventually, I learned to avoid mirrors. They were the only silent, cold witnesses of my many metamorphoses; they became to me like some sort of Dorian Gray's picture; something dreadful and horrible that shouldn't be looked at, a surface from where my demons haunted me. To stare at them was to be reminded that that wasn't really me, whoever I thought I was at any given moment; that this thing people saw when they looked at me wasn't a whole person but just a fragment, a mirage, an illusion, not any more real nor consistent than dreams. They reminded me that everything I was, everything I had, wouldn't last longer than a breath before it would be all gone and done and over with.

Not a pleasant feeling, I must say. People need something to hold on to, even if it's a mirage, a lie. So, in order to preserve a bit of my sanity, I made a point of staying away from mirrors as much as possible. Which I had more or less accomplished... until now. It was a rather difficult thing to do in this house, so full of them; and I couldn't get rid of them, because of that stupid promise.

Oh, how I regretted that promise.

So, the darn things were everywhere, and although I was usually cautious around them, sometimes they caught me off-guard; as I absentmindedly passed by one of them and, without meaning to, caught a glimpse of my reflection out of the corner of my eye. And it was all it took for my whole fictitious, so-called normality to fall apart like a cheap umbrella in the wind, as the image from the cold, glassy surface of the mirror stared back at me and that feeling of unreality overwhelmed me once more; as if that wasn't me, as if the eyes, the face I saw there were wrong somehow, a fake, a sham.

So, imagine the whole new level of eeriness I experienced that night when, half-asleep and still shaken from the nightmare I had just woken up from, I heedlessly looked into my bathroom mirror and saw a face that wasn't mine, that was never mine. A face that stared back at me like from a hundred years ago; because those eyes, those red lips, that long, dark, luscious hair... they were nothing but dust now, just memories from another life, from a time long gone. A time when I was someone else. A time when awful things happened.

"Hello, Clow," the mirror face said, staring at me with those unfathomable, reddish, catlike eyes. "Long time no see."

And for the life of me, I can't remember whether I just stood there, petrified, staring at the unexpected apparition; or I somehow managed to say something back, or I just yelled in horror.

Because, holy mother of all kinds of shit, it was her.

…

My eyes open, and once more I wake up dumbfounded and confused in my bed, my body shaking and a feeling of horror bursting inside my chest, but to my surprise, the first thing I see are two worried, deep violet eyes that stare at me in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. They look at me, and for a moment, who knows by what miracle, I seem to find an anchor in them; I can see myself, recognize myself in their reflection, I can almost find that nameless thing I never find in the mirror, and some inexplicable relief runs through my entire body. She's on me for some reason, and without even thinking about it, I sit up and hug her, squeezing her against me with all the strength I can manage from my still shaky arms.

"It's you. Thank God," I say. "Am I awake now? For real?"

"I... think so," she says, a bit startled by my outburst.

"I'm still Eriol... right?" I whisper against her chest, still not quite believing her and unwilling to let her go. "Am I still... who I think I am?"

She pulls back just enough to look at my face. The shine in her eyes alone is an answer in itself, and I feel my anxiety ease down a bit.

"You don't need me to tell you that... do you? You know who you are... in your heart."

I look at her; her eyes are dark and serious, but there's also tenderness in them and something else, an understanding that is vaster and deeper than the ocean, and for a moment that's all I need, it's everything, and I can forget about dark hallways, hidden doors, and bloody mirrors; I can forget about long lost faces and fear and anguish and pain, and realize I've awakened to the best possible world, to the best possible reality; and everything else is just memories and mirages and illusions.

Only then can I relax. My hands loosen a bit around her, and I feel a smile form on my face.

"I do now."

She smiles back. Then, I suddenly realize how strange all of this must be for her.

"I'm sorry," I say, apologetically. "You must think I'm crazy."

"No. Well... maybe a little," she says, smiling. "It's something I've wondered about... you know? How you managed to keep it together, considering all that serial reincarnation shit you have going on."

"Well, as you can see... not too well."

"Why... because you wake up a bit disoriented?" she chuckles. "Most people would end up in a straitjacket if they had to deal with the memories of hundreds of lives, like you do. I think you're doing fine. You're a bit weird, of course, but... I'm no one to judge. I'm a bit weird too... you know?"

"Really?" I mutter, raising an eyebrow and staring at her wryly. "I didn't notice."

"Ha-ha. What I meant was, stop worrying so much about what's normal. Don't apologize for being you. I like that we can be weird together. Don't you?"

I can only nod and smile.

"Absolutely."

There couldn't be a sweeter deal than that, really.

"So... what were you dreaming about just now? Because that... wasn't an ordinary dream."

This time, it's me who's puzzled.

"How do you know that?"

"You were tossing and turning, and it looked like you were in great distress, yet I almost couldn't wake you up; it was like you were miles away... like in a completely different world. So I thought that maybe your dreams aren't exactly like... well, normal people's dreams."

"Yes... you're right. Most of my dreams aren't exactly what you would call... normal."

"What are they like?"

She stares at me with keen interest, and I feel my puzzlement increasing.

"You want to know... about my dreams?"

"Yes... why?" She says, looking a little taken aback. "You asked me about my dream once, too. At the bar. Remember?"

"I do, but... I'm not used to it happening the other way around."

"Why not?"

"I told you... people don't usually ask me about this kind of thing. In my many lives, most of the people who knew me were too afraid to even talk to me... and the ones who weren't, didn't ask a lot of questions either. Definitely not as many as you ask."

"Are you calling me nosy?" she says, laughing. "I just don't get it. How could anyone know you and not want to ask you tons of things? You're a freaking dude with powers and memories of thousands of years! That's not something you bump into every day," she says, stopping suddenly when she sees the sideways glance I throw at her. "Oh, wait. I didn't mean it like that. Not like you're some kind of... oddity, or something."

I can't help but chuckle.

"I think you said exactly what you meant. But now that I think about it..." I say, looking at her warily. "I am an oddity, and you are nosy. You, of all people, bump into things like this literally every day. You've been hanging around magical types like me since you were a kid; you know more about us than almost any other mortal. And yet, you keep digging for more. So, what's that all about, Daidouji? Is it some kind of fetish thing? Are you studying us... or what?"

She stares at me for a second, a spark of amusement in her eyes.

"Okay... you left me with no choice but to tell you," she says. "Yes... I've been studying you. You see, I'm not who I say I am. I've been fooling everyone for years with my innocent schoolgirl act, but that was just a cover for my true identity. In truth... I'm a spy. I work for a government agency, and I'm currently on a top-secret mission to gather intel from PDIPs such as you."

"PDIPs?"

"Potentially Dangerous Individuals with Powers."

"Oh, I see. Clever."

"You're my latest subject; my orders are to gain your trust, gather as much information as I can, and then, based on my final report, you might get abducted to become part of an army of mutant freaks. But now that you've blown my cover, my data will be corrupted, so they'll probably want to terminate you."

"Oh, darn. Well... I had a good run," I say, pulling her hair a little as an admonishment for her teasing. "But, can it wait till morning? So I can have you for a few more hours before they put me down."

"Oh, so you're not taking this seriously?" she says, raising an eyebrow. "Then, how about this: Maybe, just maybe, I happen to like you... and want to get to know you better. How's that for an explanation? Is it easier for you to believe?"

"Humm... it does sound simpler, and has a nicer ring to it, but... knowing my history, army of mutant freaks shouldn't be discarded so quickly."

She laughs.

"Well, until you decide which one you prefer... will you tell me about your dreams? You know..." she says, staring at me coyly. "Worst-case scenario, we can work out some deal. I'll keep my mouth shut, and in exchange, you'll let me make you a costume for the mutant army thing. What do you say? I can make you look really hot in it. It would be a win-win situation."

"So... it was the fetish thing, after all," I chuckle.

"Just think about it. That nice butt of yours, in the right pair of tights..." she says, and I'm startled as I feel her hand touching said butt. "You would absolutely kill at the mutant army thing."

"You have a very strange mind," I say, amused by the unexpectedness of it and, must I say, a bit... turned on? "I like the way it works, although I'd much rather put you in something tight before you do that to me. Doesn't even have to be a costume. You have a nice butt too... you know?" I mutter, fondling hers to prove my point, maybe a bit more roughly than she has mine.

"Let's not get sidetracked here," she says, blushing and chuckling a bit . "You were going to tell me about your dreams. Remember?"

"Was I?"

She smiles and nods.

"Yes, you were."

I just laugh.

"Okay, okay... you win. What do you want to know?"

"Well... everything. What are they like? Do you have normal dreams too, or are all of them like the one you just had before?"

I kind of want to go back to our previous teasing and fondling of each other's butts, but I realize that for some unfathomable reason, this is interesting to her, and there's a tiny part of me that feels somewhat touched by the fact she wants to know about me. So I take a deep breath, lie down on my side next to her, and start talking.

"Okay... I'll try my best to satisfy that quenchless curiosity. Yes, I have normal dreams too, although my dreams, even the normal ones, are way more... vivid than most of your dreams might be. So much, they feel more real than reality itself. So much, that most times I wake up I feel like I'm actually falling asleep, like opening my eyes is like putting a blindfold on them. Reality seems... lacklustre somehow, compared to my dreams. Did you ever have a dream like that?"

She stares at me intently and somewhat surprised, but she nods.

"Yes... I did. Although if I'm honest, my reality has always been lacklustre, compared to my dreams... well, except maybe recently." She smiles and blushes a bit, and it's just so damn cute to see that I can't resist the urge to kiss her. It's going to be very hard not to get sidetracked if she keeps looking at me like that and saying those kinds of things.

"And what about... the other dreams?" she asks as my lips leave hers.

"The other dreams..." I mutter, trying to get back into focus. "They are more rare. They're even more vivid, and the things I see in them, the things I hear… I don't know if I can find the words to describe them to you. They're... on a different level. It's like I'm in sync with everything there is, every reality, every possibility; I see all the connections, what happened, what is happening, what will happen, what could happen... all on the same plane. Everything falls into place, everything just... makes sense. It's like I'm everywhere... see everything... know everything."

She stares at me in awe.

"But... that sounds awesome. Like some mystic thing, a higher level of consciousness, or something... But you seemed really scared and suffering just now, when I almost couldn't wake you up."

"That's because sometimes, instead of seeing the whole, I get to see only partial things, and those may not be all that pleasant… I can't choose what I see, I can't control what happens to me when I'm asleep, but that's how important things are revealed to me... I see things that have happened in other places, in other times... things that may happen in other realities... and things that are happening or will take place in this one."

She remains silent for a moment, eyes wide open, like she's startled or lost in thought. Finally, she stares at me.

"You know... it's crazy, but just now as you spoke, I kept having this weird feeling... as if I could relate to some of what you were saying. As if I had experienced the same thing at some point... only I can't remember when. But that's ridiculous... isn't it? I don't have that kind of power. It's not possible."

I look at her, a little surprised by her words.

"Actually…" I say, still unsure if this is a good thing or a bad one. "It's not entirely impossible. Normal humans can have this kind of dream too, maybe once or twice in a lifetime... although it's awfully rare. I've met a few ones who did… oracles and such, who didn't have any magical powers whatsoever, but they did have some kind of deep, natural perception... kind of like yours, actually."

"Really?" she says, looking confused. "And how was it for those people?"

I look at her, unsure of what to say. Not good, was the first thing that came to mind. No good ever came from knowing more than we were supposed to, especially for normal humans without powers, and especially when they saw unpleasant things. Because they always, always tried to change what they saw, and they always, always failed. Painfully so. A flash of her alone in a dark corridor and walking towards a certain doom suddenly comes back to me, and I shudder. I hurry to push that thought away.

"You don't need to worry about that," I say, forcing myself to smile and stroking her face, not sure if I'm trying to reassure her or myself. "You're not like them. You're not like anyone I've ever met before. You shouldn't worry about dreams you don't even remember having."

"And what about yours? The dream you had just now... should I worry about that?"

I look at her, and I hesitate. But no, even though I know she might be able to understand, I can't tell her this. I can't talk to her about the horror I beheld in my dream, about the darkness that swallowed her without me being able to stop it; I can't even think about it. I can't talk about her, that ghost from a time long past suddenly and unexpectedly reappearing in my life and filling my chest with such an ominous, dreadful feeling.

"No. It was just a nightmare. Maybe more vivid than the ones you have... but nothing to worry about," I say, more to myself than to her, as I smile and try to push such thoughts away. "Right now it's just so good to be awake... Why waste any more time on dreams when reality has so, so much nicer things to offer for once?" I say, stroking the side of her face and letting my fingers roam down her shoulders and arms, relishing in the softness of her skin and the fascinating changes that show on her face as she accepts the caress and the compliment. A slight blush, the shine of her eyes still hiding a bit of concern, mixing with some trembling delight in her lower lip that makes it impossible to not kiss it... and then the slight tension in her neck that tells me she's struggling between surrendering to the kiss and touch or keeping asking about my dreams, and... Yes, it was like a blindfold, exactly like a blindfold; but who would have guessed it could be one so delightful to wear and how amazingly the world would transform in front of me when I put it on, during those short moments when I forced myself to not sense her with my powers, like now… How mystifying could it be, to not know everything, to let her touch, her voice guide me through an infinite darkness; to try to find her in the small signs she gave me with her eyes, her gestures, her silences...

"So... being awake isn't so lacklustre now?" she whispers, teasingly, against my face. Suddenly, she's on me again; I can feel the warmth of her thighs against my hips, so I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer.

"I woke up with you on top of me... you naughty, naughty girl. Nothing lacklustre about that."

Her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, and it's almost too damn cute to watch.

"It wasn't... on purpose," she explains. "You were so deeply asleep, and I couldn't wake you up, so I was just, you know... trying anything I could to get you back here, to the land of the living."

"Hey, I'm not complaining," I say, and as I let my hands run up those warm, soft thighs and feel them tremble slightly, I realize that I am, as a matter of fact, ridiculously thankful for being here, where I'm supposed to be. In the land of the living. "It worked. I feel very much alive now."

I see her blush and smile, in a mixture of shyness and pleasure, and any remaining heaviness and anguish from the dream dissolves, fades into nothingness. Maybe... it was just that, a dream. Having her like this, so close, makes me feel safe, fearless again, almost normal; and a crazy hope starts stirring in me, a hope that I could have this kind of life, that somehow I could let go of my past and have a brand new beginning, one with normal dreams and normal awakenings. The ghosts that haunt me from my past somehow lose solidness in her presence, in the warmth of her skin and the glow of her eyes, as if they were some kind of shield, of barrier that surrounded us and protected us, leaving them outside.

The ominous feeling is still here somewhere, deep inside my chest; but how to believe in it now? How to take it seriously, without feeling ridiculous and stupid? In our dreams we're alone, but now I'm with her. How can I be scared of a door or a face in a mirror, how can I believe in anything but what my senses tell me? And all my senses say is her, her, her; her weight on me, her scent, those things are real, everything else is illusion, pipe-dream, madness.

She's real. I touch her, I run my hands through her skin, I draw her against me, I breathe her in. She smells like roses, like a sunset in the countryside, like rain; she smells a little bit like sex and a little bit like me, like tea leaves and mint and the wine we drank together. But especially, she smells like life, like living things.

"Mmm..." I feel her tremble slightly as I rub my face, my nose against her neck, against her warm and fragrant skin, but it's more a purr than a word, a vibration in her throat, a sound of contentment that I drink with utter delight. How easy, how incredibly easy would it be now, to forget it all and just lose myself in that joyous warmth of her body and those incredible sensations I feel every time our skins touch and both past and future disappear, and there is only one present, one reality. But no, not yet. Because there's still something here bothering me, like a small, annoying bug buzzing in my ear, a question that keeps asking itself in the back of my head and that for some reason I can't completely forget; and suddenly, after an anguish-ridden dream revolving around her, I realize it needs to be answered.

"Tomoyo," I mutter, pulling away just enough to see her face for a moment; her eyes shining in the dim light, her somewhat agitated breathing. "What happened today... after I left you with Sakura? Why are you really here?"

She looks a bit startled; she obviously wasn't expecting me to ask her that question. But she recovers rather quickly.

"No... let's not talk about Sakura now, please. I promise, I'll tell you everything... later. But now," she whispers against my ear as her arms slide around me and she pulls me closer, "can we forget about Sakura, and everyone else for a while, and just be the two of us? Just... you and me?"

I look at her, surprised to hear those words, and even more surprised to realize they're actually all I need to hear from her; the best thing she could have ever said to me.

Just you and me. Forget about Sakura... and everyone else.

I nod, and for a moment there I just look at her and everything that was weighing in my mind just fades away, dissolves into thin air as if it was nothing, and all I can think about is the sudden, irresistible urge to kiss her and pull her closer to me, an urge I cave into; and she mutters something that could have been a yes, but I don't understand nor care to understand anymore, because no other words matter after what she has just said, nothing else can be important but this moment now, the shine of her eyes, the warmth of her body that feels so nice and good against mine... And I kiss her, restlessly, I run my hands down her back and draw her closer and I feel her sigh and shudder, and her body is so damn hot and inviting that I can't not yield to it; I'm like a lost, thirsty adventurer who has found a magical fountain in the depths of some old, crumbling temple, and by some extraordinary twist of fortune has been allowed to drink from it.

I can't waste a drop. Her touch is like rain falling on cracked soil after a long drought, reviving it; something so miraculous and unhoped-for, yet so necessary, that it amazes me that I could have survived without for so long. I can't have enough, and I immerse myself in her, I drink from her, I claim her as mine. And it feels like finding a hidden oasis, a place of rest and safety and relief, like breathing after being deprived of breath; and for some moments I even get to glimpse, with a clarity that rivals my most vivid dreams, that something unprecedented is happening to me in this life. I feel less and less like the same old soul, and more and more like a brand new being. As if this life was unlike all the others, where I was just resurrected. As if I've actually been reborn.

Reborn... into the land of the living.

…

"So… will you tell me now?" I whisper, a bit gaspy, against her ear.

She stares at me amusedly.

"You don't give up easily, do you?"

"Nope."

I see her laughing against the pillow; her skin all flushed and sweaty, her eyes bright and her hair all messy, and as I look at her I realize there is no way I like seeing her more than this.

"Alright," she says. "I know it wasn't very thoughtful of me to ask you to let me stay here again... and not even offer you an explanation."

"Not thoughtful at all," I say. "You must be the most inconsiderate guest I ever had. I don't even know why I keep letting you sleep here, I swear."

"Letting me sleep," she says, chuckling and rolling her eyes. "Yeah, sure... let's go with that."

I can't help but laugh.

"Well, who's fault is that? If you wanted to sleep, you could have just as easily stayed in the guest room, or listen to this, not wake me up, and you would be sleeping now, wouldn't you?"

"But... I like waking you up," she says, staring at me with a half-innocent, half-coy smile, as she runs a finger through my arm. "You're always so... compliant."

That I did not expect, but it amuses me.

"Thank you... I guess?"

"It's a compliment," she says, chuckling. "I like that you are like this. It makes things much easier for me, because... well, I'm a bit shy at this kind of thing... you know?"

"At what kind of thing?"

"You know... this."

"Chatting?"

"Idiot," she says, chuckling and hitting me on the arm. "Anyway... what I'm trying to say is that I'm enjoying being your guest... even if it's difficult to get some sleep in here."

"Well, you know what they say about English hospitality. We always want our guests to feel comfortable."

"Oh... so, everyone who comes to your house make themselves this comfortable?"

I can't help but laugh.

"Well, no... not this much," I say. "But you shouldn't worry about that. So far, you've been my only guest here."

"Really?" the look in her eyes suddenly shifts into one of puzzlement. "Wait... you're serious? Are you telling me that nobody besides me has set foot in this house since you returned to Japan?"

"That's right."

"But... why? You had friends here. You still do. I know for a fact that Sakura would love to come and see you. Many others from school too, like Yamaza-"

"I... haven't told anyone I'm here." I interrupt her. "I didn't come back to Japan to socialize... and this house isn't for receiving guests, anyway."

"But, you brought me here."

"Yeah, but that... was an exception."

I see the puzzlement in her eyes increasing, and suddenly I realize I might have said a bit too much, and I get puzzled as well. Why on Earth am I blurting things out like this? Why does she have this effect on me? I was never known for being a talkative or open person before, quite the opposite actually; yet somehow there's something about her that lowers my defenses and pushes me beyond any prudence or caution, and I find myself saying things like these, without even thinking. I can't help but wonder why.

Endorphins, that must be it. I feel too good when I'm with her, too much at ease; and for some reason it makes me reckless, and I stop caring about things like I usually do.

"Why? What's the deal with this house, Eriol?" she asks. "I've been wanting to ask you since the first time I came here, but I always forgot. This isn't your old house, the one you had when we were kids; that one got demolished to build an amusement park. I never thought you would have another house in the city, let alone one that looks like a carbon-copy of your old one, yet at the same time... feels so different."

My puzzlement only grows when I hear her say this.

"Different? How?"

"Well, I'm not sure... I've been to your old house a few times when we were kids, but it always felt... like a happy house. Despite being so big and luxurious, it was warm and homey. This one, instead, has a strange feeling to it... a gloomy feeling. As if it was sad somehow. As if the whole house was crying. Even the mirrors here seem to have a life of their own. They're kind of unsettling."

I just look at her, amazed once more by her unbelievable perceptiveness, and how it somehow makes up for her lack of magic powers.

"Why... why are you staring at me?" she says. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but..."

"No... actually, it doesn't. It's not ridiculous. I'm just surprised, because I can't believe you could have sensed that much. But you're right, Tomoyo. This house... is sad. This house is crying."

"But, why, Eriol? Why is it?"

I stare at her, uncertain about whether I should give her some answer or...

"Well…" I finally say. "It's because some terrible things happened here a long time ago. Things that were engraved into the walls of this house, into its core, its foundations. Things that can't be forgotten or erased. That's the gloomy feeling you perceived, Tomoyo; and that's also why I didn't live here before now; why I didn't want to set foot in this house until I absolutely had to."

"But this was your house before... in your previous life... right?"

"No. This house wasn't mine back then. Someone else used to live here."

"Someone you knew?"

"Yes."

"Someone you... loved?"

I just look at her and say nothing. She holds my gaze for a few moments, and then a somewhat sad, bittersweet smile forms on her lips.

"I see now... why you don't want people to be here. It's okay. I'm not going to ask you what sort of sad memories this house holds for you. I'm just thankful that you made an exception for me. It means a lot more than I thought."

I can't help but smile and stroke her hair.

"Don't be silly. I'm glad you're here, Tomoyo. This house is not so sad when you're in it."

She looks at me with a smile on her face.

"But now I feel guilty for showing up again without being invited. I shouldn't have imposed on you like that. I'm sorry."

"Stop it. I'm not complaining, am I?" I chuckle. "You showing up tonight was the most wonderful thing I could hope for. Although, now that we're back on that... I'm still confused about how it even came to happen. I can't say I expected it."

"I wasn't expecting it either," she says with a sigh. "But I promised to tell you everything before, so... go ahead. Ask me whatever you want."

"Okay," I take a deep breath. "Where is Sakura?"

She stares at me for a second, looking surprised.

"What...? You don't know?"

"No. I felt her presence earlier, moving away at a tremendous speed, from which I could only infer she was on a plane. But I have no idea why she was on one, or where she was heading. I mean, if I really wanted to, I could make an effort and see her... but I'm trying not to do that, on account that it's wrong, as it has been pointed at me recently. So... all I know is that she's not here anymore. She's far away... her presence feels dim, distant... I have to make an effort to even sense it."

"Well... your inference was right; she was on a plane. As to where she is now… I think you're smart enough to figure that out."

This time, it's me the one who's surprised.

"Wait... you mean... China?"

She nods.

"But why...?" I stammer, still not out of my shock. I mean, I know why she would want to go to China; what I don't know is why now, why right after being so sad and miserable at that pier in…

And suddenly, it all makes sense. Kind of.

"It was you," I mutter, and it's not a question. "You put her on that plane. Didn't you?"

She just grins and doesn't answer, but it's not necessary anyway; I know it was her. But then... there's a bigger question here, another huge doubt claiming to be answered. And it has little to do with Sakura.

"Why did you do that?"

She sighs before speaking again; a long, deep exhale.

"Because it was the right thing to do. She was in the wrong place, and she was suffering because of it. She had to go where her heart needed to be. She had her own things she needed to take care of... as I had mine."

I stare at her silently; not daring to interrupt her, but eagerly awaiting more words. She stares back at me, and when she continues, there's a strange, bittersweet smile on her face.

"It would be a lie if I said it was easy to see her go, but... as I watched her plane take off and disappear in the sky, I knew I'd done the right thing... at last. And I felt happy. Not the usual kind of happy, of course, but happy... nonetheless. At peace. And she understood, Eriol. She forgave me. I know, even though she didn't say it. I saw it in her eyes."

"Forgave you… for what?"

She looks at me, surprised.

"You... don't know that either?"

I shake my head no.

"I told you... I've been trying to stay out of other people's business. I know only what you've told me."

"And what you spied on," she says, grinning a bit maliciously.

"Hey! That happened once!" I protest, feeling a little hurt. "I didn't do it again. And I won't, ever. I promise."

She looks at me, blinking, and that hint of maliciousness vanishes from her smile, leaving it just adorable and sweet; although also a bit sad.

"Well... maybe I'll tell you about it another day, but... not tonight. I don't have the strength right now. All I can say is that I did something wrong... worse than when I watched that video. But... she forgave me. She's a much bigger person than I am... and she understands more than I ever thought, Eriol. It was shocking, actually. She said something to me, just a moment before she got into boarding... she hugged me, and before she let go, she whispered it in my ear... and left me quite astonished."

"What did she say?" I ask, not really sure if I want to know the answer. She gets closer then; I feel her fingers burying in my nape, and her warm breath tickling my ear.

"She said... go with him, Tomoyo-chan. He needs you… and you deserve some happiness too."

I just look at her, perplexed.

"She meant you, you know," she says. "I don't know how she found out about us; I didn't tell her anything. We barely even talked. But she knew, somehow."

"She must have felt both our presences together. She's become... so much more powerful with the years. But..." I stammer. "What did you answer… to such a thing?"

She looks at me for a moment, and her smile turns slightly coy.

"That's something you don't need to know."

My mouth opens again, but before another question pops out, she interrupts me.

"Eriol... what is it that you really want to ask?"

Alright. No reason to keep going around it. To the point.

"Why did you come back tonight, Tomoyo?"

She pauses, stares at me for a moment, and then...

"Because... I realized this was the only place I wanted to be. Eriol... when you left me at Tsukimine Temple, and I watched you walk away... my chest hurt. I had never felt that way about anyone that wasn't her. It was... confusing. I realized I didn't really want you to walk away. I realized that ever since the night of the storm, when I cried my heart out in your arms and you held me, I've wanted nothing more... but to be close to you. Something pulled me back here... so I followed it. That's all I can tell you. Is that good enough for you?"

I just nod, staring at her with wide-open eyes, unable to say anything as she keeps looking at me with that shine in her eyes, and suddenly I feel startled by a strange, unfamiliar feeling; the feeling that this is, too, the only place and time where I want to be; that this life where I have met her is the only one I could have really chosen, and would keep choosing over and over again, if only I had the chance. As I look at her, I struggle with the certainty that I should not be thinking like this; that someday not so far away all of this will be gone, her eyes, her smile, her lovely body on my bed, someday they would be just memories, and if I failed to find what I came here to find, I would be alone again, living a different life, with a different face and a different name in a world that wouldn't have her in it. I try to remind myself of this, but it just seems so unreal, so inconceivable; and why, why does it have to feel like this now, why if this is something I learned to accept and live with a long time ago, if I know damn well how these things work, and I know that to rebel against fate will only bring misery and pain... And yet, for some strange reason, all of that just feels hollow and empty now; the speech of an old, jaded man, a man that gets harder to relate to when I'm with her because it gets eclipsed by the shape and the heart of the nineteen-year-old I'm feeling awakening inside me, with all the rebelliousness and stupidity that comes with it, because like all stupid young things, it refuses to accept the idea of letting go what it has just found. It lasts only a second, a spark, before I smother it; yet it was there, I know it, and the mere thought of it scares the hell out of me. I know I can't let such ideas root in my mind under any circumstance; the results could be catastrophic. It has happened before.

For some reason, I remember the dream and the face in the mirror, and that dreadful, ominous feeling stirs back within my chest.

But then...

"Hey... what's wrong?" she says. "You look worried."

"Nothing's wrong," I say, smiling at her and trying to shake that gloominess away. "I'm happy. I really am. How could I not be, when I have such a beauty in my bed?"

"Oh, come on. You don't have to sweet-talk to me, Hiiragizawa," she says. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me what's on your mind. I mean... I'd like that you would trust me enough to tell me, but... I understand. Really, I do. Sometimes we have things we need to keep to ourselves."

I look at her in awe. So, she knows I'm hiding things from her, and she understands it, she accepts it without any insistence or pressure; just letting me know that she knows and that she'll be happy to hear everything I can't tell her right now, whenever I feel ready, if ever...

God, how strange is this woman?

She's such a mystery to me, so different from anyone I've ever met before in such a refreshing way, that for a moment I feel a sudden urge to tell her everything right away; about the dream, about the face in the mirror, about my worries and the things that still haunt me from my past, even about this house and the real reason why I came back to Japan. I mean… everything.

But no... I can't. But I also realize I can't get myself to do that other thing, the thing I always do whenever a normal human comes too close to finding out about the things I can't tell. I can't, even though I'm getting the unpleasant feeling that maybe sooner than I think, I will have to; I won't, I can't, I wouldn't dare to mess with her mind, to make her forget, even knowing that in the long run, it might be for her own good. Her mind is just too beautiful, too unique to be touched, and the mere idea of doing anything that could alter it repulses me. I like too much the way she is, the strange way in which she seems to understand me, even with everything she doesn't know; the snarky things she says to me and her wry sense of humor, as if she was inexplicably unintimidated and unafraid of my background and my powers, as if they were as accidental to her as the shirt I wear, and just as disposable. As if she could look beyond those things and just see me. And I... like it, dammit. I don't want to lose it. I know it's selfish; I know she's getting closer to a cliff where she won't be able to pass without falling, but… damn, I just can't do it. I can't stand the idea of her being oblivious to me.

Who knows? Maybe, someday...

"You're right," I say. "Sometimes there are things we need to keep to ourselves. But, you know? Maybe... there might be a day when we won't have to anymore. I'm just afraid you might regret it… if that day ever comes."

Maybe, by some miracle...

"Oh, I'm sure it will. And I'm sure I will regret it when it does," she says, a playful smile appearing on her face. "You talk quite a lot as it is... if you open up more, I might never get you to shut up again."

And then I just can't help it; despite all my worries and gloominess and everything, I feel a sudden urge to laugh.

"You're an insolent brat... you know that?" I say, between indignant and amused. "Somebody should teach you to respect your elders."

"Oh, really?" she says, with a slight but unmistakable teasing tone in her voice; and I can see a spark of cheekiness in her eyes. "Teach me, then."

And suddenly I realize I don't feel worried or gloomy anymore; somehow she has erased it all, and I'm genuinely shocked by this ability she has to change my mood like that; to transform with just a look from her eyes and a few words all my dark thoughts and heaviness into cheerfulness, into playfulness. Into lightness.

And for that, I'm thankful... but not enough to let her get away with it. She's begging for a lesson in manners, this girl, and right now all I can think of is how badly I want to wipe that smug grin off her face.

"Gladly," I say hoarsely against her ear, leaning in closer and relishing the shiver that runs down her spine as I turn her around and start trailing kisses down the curve of her neck and biting her nape. She giggles a little at first, but her body quickly responds to my touch, her skin breaking out in goosebumps and her giggles turning into moans and gasps. Then, I slide my hand over her mouth, silencing her, as I press my body against hers.

"Nope," I whisper in her ear. "Now, you're going to learn to be quiet."

She wasn't expecting this; she's a bit shocked but at the same time I feel a shudder of excitement rushing through her body. Whatever sound she makes gets muffled against my hand, and the blend of it all is so good and satisfying it makes my blood boil. I lower my lips to her neck and feel her pulse racing. I keep trailing kisses down her neck and shoulder, grazing her with my teeth as my free hand roams her body, touching her in all the ways I know will drive her insane and also teasing her ticklish places a bit, just for fun, until she's a writhing mess, moaning and giggling and gasping and chuckling against my hand. And it's so delightful, the way she responds to my touch; it's all so hot that I feel my own desire building at an alarming speed.

"I'll give you what you want," I say to her ear, my voice low and commanding. "If you can keep quiet. But if you so much as make a sound, I'll stop, and you'll get nothing. Do you understand?"

Her eyes are half-lidded with delight as she nods, her face flushed and her body trembling with excitement as I loosen my grip on her mouth and continue my trail of kisses and love bites down her back. Her muscles tense beneath my touch as I explore her body, and I can feel her efforts to repress her moans of pleasure as I move lower, and even lower still, until I reach her gorgeous, round butt, staring at it like it's ice cream and I'm a sugar-deprived kid. She shudders, trembling in anticipation because she knows I won't stop there, and she's right; of course I won't. I can feel her breathing becoming more rapid and shallow as I kiss, lick and bite her tender flesh while my fingers brush between her legs. I can feel her fighting the urge to make sounds, and it's so satisfying. I know that soon she will be unable to resist, and I can't wait to see her succumb.

But she's stubborn, and even as I tease her with my mouth and my hands in every way I can think of to get her to cry out and lose this game, she remains obstinately quiet; biting her lip first, then the pillowcase, then her own hand as she finally reaches her peak and I can feel her body shake and tremble with bliss, and I'm left in awe of her will and determination. When she's finished, I move up her body and lay a kiss on her shoulder.

"Good girl," I tease her.

Panting, she turns around and stares at me a bit defiantly.

"See? I can be quiet," she says against my ear. "But, can you? Or are you too old to learn a new trick? Let's find out," she taunts me. I see a gleam of mischief in her eyes as she starts running her hands down my body me and laying kisses down my throat, and I merely manage to gasp, a wave of excitement washing over me. My heart pounds as I feel her lips on my clavicles, and then on my chest, and then on my stomach, where she lingers for a moment until I'm swept away with lust and desire, unable to form a coherent sentence —not that I want to say any, or do anything that will cause her to stop, God, no. I reach for her, touching her hair and her shoulders I can as she continues her trail of kisses, and she keeps moving lower and suddenly my breath gets caught in my throat as I'm overcome with pleasure. I forget I'm supposed stay quiet and I let out some kind of groan, and she punishes me with the most tortuous punishment ever... which is stopping. But I learn quickly, biting my lips and pledging myself to be as silent as the Sphinx from now on, and I feel her smug grin as she continues teasing me in an endless, exquisite torment... And it turns out I can be quiet too, and I'm not too old to learn a new trick after all.

As I get lost in a world of pure bliss, unable to think or do anything but savor every moment of her touch on me, my last coherent thought is that maybe I've underestimated her, and I was never the one teaching the lesson in the first place.

If this is you being shy, Daidouji... I can't wait to see what happens when you get more confident.

…

I wake up after an undetermined hiatus of sleep in an otherwise delightfully sleep-deprived night, to the joyous feeling of a warm, fragrant body next to mine. A feeling I never let myself enjoy for too long, because it's so damn easy to get used to, yet so damn hard to be without after you lose it... But right now I can't think nor care about any of that, I just want to savor it, so, instead of getting up, I close my eyes and snuggle closer to her, trying to get more of her warmth, of her sweet scent; loving the way she fits in my arms, how her body feels so warm and pulsing and alive and her hair over my face tickles me. I press my face against her neck, her shoulder, smelling her, barely touching her skin with my lips, and I feel her move a little, letting out a soft, happy grunt.

"Hey..." she whispers, and her fingers move lightly through my arm. "You awake?"

I barely manage to grunt back, spooning her even closer and burying my face in her hair, not opening my eyes.

"Eriol," she says, turning in my arms a little bit.

"Mmnssleep," I mumble.

I feel a soft chuckle coming from her.

"I think you slept enough," I feel playful fingers tangling in my hair. "And no bad dreams this time, I reckon?"

"No dreams at all," I mutter, and I realize in something like awe that I'm actually relieved by it, maybe for the first time ever. "Luckily."

"I'm glad to hear that," she says. Then she turns around some more, and I feel her chest brushing against mine and warm breath on my face and fingers touching my cheek, brushing away some locks of hair, and moving down until they touch my lips, where they linger for a moment, making them all tingly just before they move away and I feel the soft, moist touch of hers; and as I lazily enjoy these feelings, it occurs to me that this is what heaven should be like if it existed: waking up like this every day, with this placid sluggishness and this touch and this warmth all around me, embracing me; and little by little starting to realize that it's all hers, that I'm not alone in this bed but safely nested in her arms; happy, at peace and unconcerned by anything but the fact that she's here, still here, by my side.

Still. Such a precious word for someone like me, yet one so fragile nevertheless...

"Hey. Open your eyes," she says, a small puff of air against my face. "It's almost noon. I have to go."

I reluctantly open them to find the bedroom completely illuminated by daylight, and her eyes staring at me.

"Go?" I mutter, yawning. "Where?"

"Well, home, of course."

"Mmm... I have a better idea. Stay?" I say, closing my eyes again and just relishing the feeling of her body so close to mine. A feeling that, unfortunately, doesn't last long, as I feel her pulling away.

"I'd like to, but... I can't," she says, laying a kiss on my cheek as I open my eyes again and see her sit up and start looking for her clothes.

"Wait," I say, and before she even has a chance to get up, I put my arms around her again and draw her back to the bed. She lets out a surprised little shriek as her back presses against my chest and my arms trap her. "At least give me a chance to explain to you why staying is a better idea."

"I'm sure you have many compelling reasons," she laughs. "But I can't laze around all day, you know? I have things to do."

"Really?" She gasps as I press a soft kiss against her ear. "Like what?"

"Well... I need to check on my mom. I haven't been home for almost three days, you know? If I don't show up soon she'll have all her security personnel searching for me around town."

"Call her," I say, barely grazing the curve of her ear with my tongue as she quivers against me. "Tell her you're alright. Tell her you've been kidnapped by some lustful fiend. Tell her anything, I don't care."

She laughs and gasps at the same time, which creates a very curious sound.

"So you want me to stay here all day, lazing around and doing nothing?"

"Oh, no. There are many things that we can do... fun things."

"So, last night wasn't enough for you?" she laughs. "And the night before?"

"Not nearly enough," I say, as I trace with my fingers the line I just made with my tongue. "Was it for you?"

"Well, it has to be. I'm not an animal, you know?" Her tone is between amused and indignant, but... could there also be a hint of arousal in it?

"Are you sure?" I ask, turning her so she can see the side of my neck, which still has a very noticeable and colorful mark. "So... these aren't your teeth marks on my neck."

"I won't... take responsibility for that," she says, giggling; but then I tease her ear with my tongue again, and she lets out a surprised, half-choked laugh. "I was... I was under a..." A resolute lick now, which earns me a throaty gasp from her. "God, what are you doing?"

"Just a small test. Animals like getting licked... you know?" I say. I can't help but smile a bit maliciously; I've already discovered that her ears are one of her weak spots, and I'm determined to take advantage of it as much as humanly possible. "It soothes them. But if you're not an animal, this should do nothing for you."

"Well, it's not... soothing me," she says, gasping and squirming in my arms.

"Then... tell me to stop," I whisper, as my tongue circles her earlobe and up her tragus, making her shudder. "Tell me it annoys you."

"You annoy me," she gasps.

"That's not telling me to stop," I say, sucking a little on her earlobe, and a soft moan escapes from her mouth. "So, I guess I was right after all."

"Maybe you were," she says, but it turns into a throaty gasp when I release her earlobe and start kissing down the side of her neck. "But, I still have classes today."

"Miss them?"

She slaps my arm then, not enough to hurt but hard enough for me to feel it, as she tries to sound indignant.

"I can't believe it. You're a professor. Shame on you!"

I just laugh.

"Oh, come on... when was the last time you missed a class? If anything, it might do you some good to relax a bit," I mutter.

"Are you calling me a nerd?" she says, amused. "Just so you know, I've been missing classes for almost two weeks now... and it's entirely your fault."

That's unexpected. I stare at her, puzzled.

"Mine? How so?"

"Well… the night of the bar… remember? I couldn't manage to get a good night's sleep ever since; I was sleepy and distracted all the time, I couldn't concentrate in class… A teacher even scolded me once for zoning out, so, I decided to stop going for a few days, until I could get my shit together. Which happened… never. You really messed me up that night, you know?"

"Really?" I gleam with excitement as a newfound, yet burning curiosity builds within me, awakened by her words. "How much?"

"Enough," she says, giggling a little.

"Oh, but now I need to know more. I need to know what kind of things you were thinking about in class... when you were so distracted that the teacher had to scold you."

A flash of pink appears on her cheeks, and my interest soars.

"Yeah... I don't think I'm gonna tell you that," she says, chuckling.

"Come on," I whisper in her ear, and I feel her shiver a little underneath me. "Don't be like that. Will I have to convince you?"

"This should be fun," she says, amused. "Yes. Do that. Convince me."

"Okay, if that's how you're going to be... I'll do even better. I will demonstrate what I think happened. Feel free to stop me and correct me in any way you like. So, when do I start? Ah, yes. The classroom. You were in class, and the teacher was giving a lecture. But you were tired. You hadn't slept well, and the lecture was kind of boring, so your mind started drifting away. Without wanting to, you started getting flashes from that night... reliving some moments, like, for instance, when I kissed you... here," I mutter, lying a soft kiss against her ear, and she shudders. "Or here," I lay another kiss on her neck, and I earn a small gasp. "It was so vivid, you almost felt like it was happening again, and you were too tired to try to block it out... So, more memories started coming. You remembered how you felt when you asked me to touch you so shamelessly, and when my hand moved down your body and to your leg... like this," I whisper breathlessly into her ear, my hand tracing a tantalizing path down her chest, her belly, her hip, until it reaches her thigh, and I can feel her struggling to not melt away. "You tried to go back to the class and pay attention to the teacher, but you just couldn't anymore; your mind was too far gone. You started feeling flustered, your face was hot, and your breath started quickening when you remembered how my hand moved from here," I lean in close, my lips near her ear as I whisper and my fingers brush up her inner thigh, "...to here." My fingers keep going up, until they brush against the place where she's warm and already a little wet. She shudders, her breath grows faster. "You felt an unstoppable urge then, and decided to take care of it right then and there, so you lowered your hand between your legs and-"

"Stop it, you perv!" she says, laughing, the pink on her cheeks intensifying into a bright red color. "It wasn't like that. You're just picturing a smut story featuring me."

"My dear, you've no idea of the things I can picture featuring you... But if it wasn't like that, then, how was it?"

"You really want to know?" she asks, breathless but staring at me with somewhat kittenish eyes. "How badly... do you want to know?"

I try to calm my racing heart as excitement builds in my chest.

"Very badly," I confess.

"Enough to trade for it?" she says, raising an eyebrow.

Oh, a challenge. How delightful! Even though it throws me a little bit off-balance, I can't deny I'm both aroused and intrigued by this development, and the fact that this girl has clearly learned how to push my buttons. I nod, and she grins, satisfied.

"What do you want?" I huskily say.

"A truth... for a truth. I'll tell you what you want to know... but you'll have to tell me something I want in exchange. Do we have a deal?"

"Astute girl," I say, tracing my fingers down her collarbone and chest, barely brushing her breasts, eliciting a gasp from her lips. "You always get what you want... don't you?"

"No, not always... but now I will," she says, the clever smile never leaving her lips.

"Okay, it's a deal. I'll tell you anything you want, but first, I want to know what happened to you after that night. What you felt... why you couldn't sleep... and what you were thinking about in class. I want... every single detail." My voice is low and sultry, and I see a spark of lust in her eyes too.

"Okay," she says. "I'll try. It won't be easy to explain, though, because most of the time... I was trying not to remember what happened that night. I spent most of my energy… trying to forget about it."

"Why?" I ask, genuinely interested, as I pull a lock of hair from her face to look at her better.

She hesitates for a moment, biting her lower lip before speaking. "Because... it was too much," she says. "What I felt... the things it awakened in me... I didn't really want to think about them, because whenever I did, a strange urge would appear in me. An urge to start moving, to... do something. And it scared me to no end, the idea of actually doing something about what I felt. It felt... so dangerous. It was easier to pretend I didn't feel or need anything. So, I tried to push that night out of my mind... pretend it never happened. Which I kind of accomplished during the day... when I was busy and distracted."

"And in the night...?"

"It got... trickier," she says. "I couldn't fool my mind when I was in bed, so I would stay up late, restless... unable to sleep... unable to push thoughts away."

"What thoughts?"

"It's... embarrassing," she says, chuckling softly and turning even redder. My hand, which has been slowly tracing its way up and down her body, starts brushing a path down her abdomen, stopping for a moment to draw whimsical figures on her lower belly.

"Come on. You can do it," I purr into her ear, my hand slowly sliding down the curve of her hip. "Do you need more... convincing?" My lips trail down her neck, tracing the delicate lines of her collarbone as she gasps and writhes beneath me. My hand continues its descent until it finds again that sweet spot it's been deliberately avoiding, the spot that would make her shiver with desire. My fingers dance teasingly along her skin, close to where she wants them to be but not quite there; and I feel her pulse racing, her breath coming in short gasps, as her eyes tell me all I need to know —she wants more, needs more. And I'm more than willing to oblige, but... not yet. First, I need to get what I want. "Last night, you learned to be quiet," I whisper, teasingly.

"You learned quite well too," she remarks, impishly. Of course, she wouldn't let me forget.

"Yes. But now, let's try a different thing. I'll give you what you want... but only if you keep talking. So, what happened to you... on those nights?"

"I told you... I was a mess," she continues, her voice faltering as my fingers brush against her tender crevice with the lightest touch just once, just to tease her. "I... couldn't sleep, I couldn't stop twisting and turning... and whenever I managed to fall asleep, I would have these... dreams."

"What... dreams?" I mutter, moving down to her breasts, teasing her sensitive skin with my lips and tongue as my fingers press just a bit more between her legs, sending tremors of pleasure up her body.

"The kind... that makes you wake up agitated, flustered, and feeling... things," she says, breathlessly.

I hear her, and I have to really concentrate to not lose the small grasp I still have on myself. With every word she says, I feel her body writhing, her fingers tangling in my hair, her hips pressing more against my hand, trying to get more of my touch. She's still trying to maintain some shred of composure, but it's hopeless. It's as if her body had a mind of its own, as if she had deprived it of attention for so long that now it will come alive with even the slightest of touches; as if all the passion and longing she has repressed for so many years were struggling to burst free. And knowing that I'm the one doing this to her; that it's my touch, my lips, my words in her ears that awaken those hidden parts of her is so intoxicating that it makes my chest burn with hunger. But I also know that if I want to savor this to the fullest, I can't give in to my own desires. Not yet.

"What... things?" I hoarsely say. I can feel her scent, her warmth and wetness are in my fingers, and I need to struggle to stay focused, but it's getting more difficult with every second; the way she's melting against me, so delightfully responsive and so damn ready, almost as if she was pleading to be taken...

She pauses for a second before answering.

"You," she finally says. "I felt you... in my dreams. Your touch... it lingered on me, and every time I fell asleep, I would dream about it... relive it. Then I would wake up, feeling wanton and frustrated and all warm and tingly everywhere, and all I would want to do was... was..."

I look at her, and my mouth feels dry.

"What," I growl, her words fueling the fire within me. "What did you do?" I command, my voice thick with desire.

She turns her face to stare at me for a second, her eyes clouded by arousal, but also… a little wickedness.

"You really want to know? Are you ready to answer my question?"

Dammit, girl.

You're toying with me just as much as I'm toying with you, aren't you?

"You're a wicked woman," I say, staring at her lying underneath me, and it's just so damn hot to see her and feel her like this, that I realize I won't be able to keep up this game for much longer, because my own body is betraying me; all I can think of is how badly I want her. Just feeling how hot and slick she is almost makes me lose my mind. She chuckles softly, but it gets choked down as I kiss her feverishly, and then start lying kisses on her neck, her throat, her breasts. "What do you want? Say it. Say it."

"I want the same thing as you. I want to know what happened to you after that night. What you thought about... what you felt... what you did... everything. It's only fair... isn't it?"

Touché.

"You little tease," I say, surprised by this turn of events, but also undeniably amused. "Okay... I guess it's fair. You want to know what happened to me after that night? I kept thinking about you, that's what. I didn't even try to stop it. I thought about you... a lot."

She stares at me intently.

"What... kind of thoughts?"

"All kinds," I reply. "Sweet ones... guilty ones... dirty ones... the whole package."

I look at her, and I see something wild in her eyes.

"Tell me... the dirty ones," she says.

I laugh.

"Really? Is that what you want to know?"

"Yes. Why? You think your dirty thoughts will make me blush?" she says, a playful smirk on her lips. But then I remember some of those thoughts, and the very idea of sharing them with her... I feel heat coming to my face. Her eyes widen in surprise. "Oh my God... they're making you blush? You... degenerate! What on Earth were you thinking about?" She looks a bit amused, a bit alarmed, yet at the same time oddly interested, and my pulse quickens as I realize that she's onto me. "Now you have to tell me!"

I let out a nervous laugh as my face gets even hotter.

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do! You promised. I can't believe it; all this time behaving like such a proper, stick-up-your-butt gentleman... while in truth, you were thinking about doing who knows what gross, unspeakable... nasty things to me," she teases me; but her voice is low and kind of sultry, her pupils are a bit dilated, and there's a strange, wild spark in them...

"So, what if I thought about a few naughty things?" I say, trying to keep my cool. "They're just fantasies. Everybody has them; it doesn't mean I actually want to..."

"Did I like them?" she asks, interrupting me.

"What?"

"In your fantasies... those perverted things you thought about, which are bad enough to make you blush... did I like them?"

I look at her, quite stunned.

"God, yeah."

"Then," she says, her eyes twinkling, her anticipation palpable. "I want to know all about them."

I look at her, astonished, amused, and insanely turned on at the same time, because even now, on some level, I was still thinking of her as such a sweet, innocent thing; but then again...

"Tomoyo Daidouji… are you asking me to talk dirty to you?"

She smiles then, but it's not a smile I've ever seen on her, it's not the smile of the shy, demure girl she used to be, it's the smile of a mischievous child who's just about to get away with something, a smile that speaks of boundaries and the thrill to cross them, and I don't know exactly when or how this happened, but one thing I know for sure is that I want to be a part of it.

Her voice is a low whisper as she presses her body into mine. "Tell me your dirty little fantasies," she murmurs, and her hand moves tantalizingly down my body, touching me where I want to feel her the most, being more than just a little tease now. "And if I like what I hear, maybe I'll stay for a while. Maybe... I'll even try some."

The sudden rush of desire goes through me like wildfire, burning me and leaving me breathless. I feel a sudden trepidation, like I'm standing on the edge of something new and exciting, something that will change everything... in an unexpected, yet delightful way.

"Are you serious?" My voice comes out like a deep, throaty growl as I grasp her body and pull her closer; my fingers digging into her skin a bit more roughly than they usually do. I need to find out how serious her bravado is, if she really wants to test my boundaries like that. "You want to hear it all?" I whisper, my lips hovering close to her ear. "You want to know the filthy depths of my mind... the things I've been dreaming of doing to you?" I feel her shiver, and it only fuels the fire within me. "Because if you do, I will tell you... everything."

"Tell me," she replies; her voice a low, throaty purr in my ear that sends shivers down my spine. "I want to know what your wicked mind wants with me, Eriol. I want to know... everything." She presses closer to me, her breath hot against my skin as she whispers, "You're not allowed to hide from me anymore."

Her words make my heart pound wildly in my chest and blood rush through my veins, because God, there's no way on Earth I can hear her say that and keep playing cool; not with her body so hot and fragrant underneath me and her voice so husky and wanton against my ear.

What she's asking of me —something wild, something raw, something forbidden— I'm not sure it's something she even knew she wanted before, but she's craving it now, and I can't be happier to comply, because fuck it, I crave it too; I've craved it since the first time I touched her, and I've tried to keep it from her until now. But now I don't have to anymore; because she's no longer that sweet, innocent girl who has to be made love to tenderly, or maybe she never was, and I'm just finding out now? I no longer care. She wants to cross those lines, and I want to cross them with her, so, so badly...

I grip her tightly, my lips finding hers in a desperate kiss. Dirty secrets start pouring out of me like a raging river; thoughts and desires that had been lurking in the back of my mind for so long come bursting out, unrestrained. She bites her lip, her fingernails clawing at my skin as she starts telling me what I wanted to hear too in breathtaking detail; things I never imagined her saying, and her words on my ears ignite a deeper desire within me and push aside all the barriers that held me back until now. And she demands more, demands everything; it's like she's trying to turn me into a much wilder thing than I want to be, and she's doing it with almost no effort at all because it's all right there, underneath the surface; she scratches the skin a little bit and there it is; and she sees it, and I want her to see it more than anything.

Suddenly, I realize how much I've needed this — to disarm myself, to let go of all pretense and surrender to the most basic desires, those I had worked so hard to rein in. To shed every layer of deceit, every piece of artifice that makes me be who I think I am, and show her the real me, my authentic self underneath it all; the one I feel in my dreams... only in a more earthly way, in this body, in this flesh.

And she likes the things I say to her, and the things we do… they're way beyond sweet lovemaking, but also beyond mere raw sex. It's like... a revelation, like stripping away all the masks and the pretenses and seeing each other in our most crude, real faces. And it's scary... and mind-blowing too. We explore both the heights and depths we can get to together, the sublime and also the most profane; and I worship her like a goddess and kiss her feet in reverence and surrender to her every whim, and unleash all my wicked desires upon her and claim every inch of her body as mine; nothing is too pure or too depraved because I want everything with her; every last shade of experience, the entire palette of colors.

And she keeps peeling me away layer by layer, mercilessly, exposing every secret, every desire, every inch of my being with a ferocity that scares and exhilarates me. I feel more undone than I ever felt before, but the way she embraces everything she finds, so utterly and eagerly, makes me believe that for the first time ever, the impossible thing I've always dreamed of could actually become true, and I could be with her like I've never been with anyone ever before: completely, unafraid, not hiding anything, not holding anything back, free from both past and future. And although I know this is merely a taste, a glimpse of what that could be, it still feels as overwhelming and frightening and awesome as diving from the top of a high cliff into a vast, deep, endless ocean... and just as damn liberating.

And so we dive in it, and we reemerge from it new, pure, untainted. Like animals.

…

"Well..." she gasps, lying against a pillow, trying to catch her breath. "That was... I don't even have a word for it."

"That's a good thing... I hope?" I reply, lying next to her, my own breath agitated too as I look at her much like a sailor who's just discovered a new, unknown continent, after months of being lost at sea. She stares back with a half-smile, her eyes still wide, and nods.

"Better than good." She looks positively radiant, and I feel like I'm on top of the world. "Too bad I'll never be able to tell my friends about this. They'll think I'm a deviant."

"Well, they would be right... wouldn't they?" I say, laughing. "But if they judge you for it, it just means they're boring, uptight people. Thank God you're neither of those things."

She looks at me, chuckling.

"I was both of those things... not too long ago. You're corrupting me."

"Excuse me?" I say, between amused and scandalized. "I am corrupting you? Are you honestly saying that you weren't like this before?"

"Well... I wasn't!" she says.

"Oh, come on!" I laugh. "Really? Stalking camera... costume fetish... and need I remind you that it was you who insisted on being told my dirty fantasies? I would never have! If anything, you're corrupting me. No, you had deviant written all over you long before you met me. If people didn't see it, it's because they weren't paying attention."

"Okay," she says, letting out a little laugh. "I see your point. But even if you're right... I never even thought I could actually... be like this, you know? That is because of you. You make things emerge in me that I didn't even know I had, and somehow you make me feel... like it's all okay."

I can't help but smile.

"It's more than okay. It's... incredible. I mean, what you are... the things you do... You make things emerge in me too, you know? Some are so intense and contradictory, it scares me a little."

"Because you might not be in perfect control all the time?" she says, smiling. "Then, I like that I can do that to you. It's not a bad thing. Eriol, when I'm with you, I feel free. Free to be anyone, to do anything... like there's nothing holding me back. It's scary sometimes... but it's also amazing. That, I owe you. That experiment of yours about killing Tomoyo... remember? You were right. I needed that. You showed me a side of me I needed to see; I needed to lose the mask, to abandon all certainty, all comfort, all illusion of control, before I could start seeing it. And it's like it never ends. I keep finding more and more."

Was it really that simple? Maybe for her it was, but what would it mean for me? It took a night of drunkenness, self-loathing, and physical awakening to crack her mask, to start killing that fearful, fake Tomoyo she had built in herself for eighteen years, but what would it take to kill Eriol, who is the outcome of centuries and centuries of meticulous effort and work?

Because Eriol would need to die too, and not just for a while, but for good; that mask would have to crack too if I ever wanted to see my real self too; if I ever wanted to stand before a mirror without that alien and bizarre feeling twirling in my stomach.

"Okay," she says, stretching her arms and legs and sitting up. "I have to leave now, you know? This time for real."

I lazily watch her get up from the bed and reach for her clothes, and only when she's halfway dressed do I realize what a waste it would be to not have a last feel of her body before she covers it and takes it all away. So I get up and wrap my arms around her from behind, breathing in the fragrant skin of her neck. I love it, but I realize we both must be stinking of sex.

"Shower?" I whisper in her ear.

"You have to be kidding me," she says with a chuckle. "You can't possibly still want to-"

"I meant just a shower," I say, amused. "Believe me, I'm satisfied, and so spent I could sleep for a week. You've drained me."

She laughs.

"Oh, poor you. Let's say I believe you; I still don't have the time. I'll take a really quick shower at home, grab my books, and run to my classes. I've already missed half of them. Now do me a favor, have some decency for once, and feel a little guilty about it," she says, as she tries to put her jeans on with my arms around her.

"Sure. I'm guilty as sin. Now... when will I see you again?"

She laughs again, and I can feel her laughter vibrating against my chest, and it's really a nice thing to feel.

"If you don't let me go home right now, I'm guessing never. My mom might just kill me… or worse, lock me up in a convent or something."

"Oh, no. That would be such a waste. I can't allow it," I mutter, releasing her to let her put her boots on. "But, you know…" I say, pensively, as I wrap myself in a housecoat. "There is one thing I feel guilty about. I was just thinking... we never really had a proper date."

She stops in mid-action and suddenly grins, staring at me with a strange look in her eyes.

"Are you... asking me out?"

I don't know if it was the bluntness of it, the bewilderment in her eyes, or what, but suddenly I feel a little off-balance. I mean, sure, we've slept together, we've done unspeakable things to each other, but there was never a word between us that implied it would be anything more than that. I mean... she likes having sex with me, that much I know. She likes the games we play together and the way I make her feel, and that's all good and nice and okay, but in the end... she's still in love with someone else, isn't she?

"I was just wondering... hypothetically speaking, what would happen if I did?" I stutter.

"Hypothetically speaking?" she says, staring at me in disbelief, and I feel even more off-balance than before. "You're joking, right?"

"Well... No?"

She just laughs.

"You know, for someone who claims to be so old... you can act like such a teenager sometimes. But I don't have time for hypothetical questions now; I really need to get going," she says, a teasing tone in her voice. "But let me give you a hint: next time you want to figure out if I want to be more than just bed partners, why don't you take a risk, and just ask me? For real, I mean," she says as she hurriedly grabs her things, gives me a quick kiss on the cheek, and rushes towards the door. But then she stops. Because I'm already there, holding the door shut.

"You're right. Let me start over. Will you go out with me?"

"You've missed your chance now," she says, smiling almost deviously. "Try again later."

Then I grab her waist, push her against the door, and kiss her —I mean, really kiss her, hard and deep and not giving her a moment to take a breath— and she's a little taken aback for a second, but then she gives in to the kiss, and all her things fall to the floor.

"Please, go out with me." I mutter as soon as my lips leave hers.

"I'll... think about it," she says, breathless but with an odd twinkle in her eyes. "I really have to go now."

And then she's gone.

...

I slept. But not for a week.

Two days have passed, and it's twilight now, that moment when the night is starting to show its face, and what a beautiful face it is. It's the most pleasant night there has been since my return to Japan. The sky still hasn't cleared up completely, but the wind has receded to the point of becoming just a cool breeze, and among the clouds, for some brief moments, you could catch a glimpse of the moon and the stars. It seems as though winter has exhausted its fury in that storm, and now it's just retreating with a gentle goodbye.

It's nice to walk along these streets that are populated once again, with my hands inside the pockets of my coat, without the slightest idea of where I'm going and breathing with delight into the night air that feels fresh, fragrant, and revived, as if it were giving us an early preview of the upcoming spring. It's nice to watch the light of the lamp-posts shining over the already neat and swept sidewalks, the cars moving again along the roads, and the people that once again are out of their houses and walking around merrily through the streets, with their heads uncovered and wearing only light coats, as if nothing had happened, as if a terrible storm didn't almost devastate half the city only three days ago. There's something different, almost festive, in the air, as if it were a holiday, and suddenly it occurs to me that maybe it isn't the people, nor the moon, nor the lamp-posts.

Maybe it's me.

It's me who's seeing the world through a different prism; the light has refracted and thousands of new colors have appeared, and those colors paint and illuminate the city completely. She's here, somewhere, but I don't know where, and that turns the entire city into a wonderful, gigantic jigsaw puzzle, an extraordinary sandbox of possibilities where any place could be the place where she is, the place where I could find her; surprises could be waiting for me just around any corner. After she left, I forced myself to not feel her presence, to numb my powers as much as possible, in an experiment to not let myself be overcome by impatience. She said later, and that would have to be enough for now, even without knowing when the fuck that later would be. No, I'm not going to look for her; I have more self-control than that, but hey, nothing prevents me from taking a walk on this wonderful night if I want to, and if by some chance I happen to bump into her, then I can't be blamed for that, can I?

It's really odd to walk around like this, roaming the city blindly, knowing what I want to find but not really searching for it, not making any effort to find it, leaving everything to chance and randomness, and secretly hoping for that miracle to happen; it's something I've never done before. Like a blindfold, exactly like a blindfold, and I must say, strange as it is… I'm starting to enjoy the experience.

It's exciting and nerve-racking at the same time, this feeling of not knowing, of depending on something beyond my own will and powers, something as random and chaotic as a casual encounter, something over which I have no control whatsoever. And yet, I never imagined the other unexpected effects this self-induced helplessness would have on me. Something strange is happening to me, and I'm barely starting to realize what it is, in the deepest of awe: that as I walk through the city like a blind man, I'm actually starting to see it. As if there's been a luminosity surrounding everything that didn't truly let me appreciate the shapes or the colors; as if there has been some kind of buzz, of background static all the time I haven't even realized, and that luminosity and that buzz that were most of what I perceived of things have suddenly disappeared. As I blocked the bigger things from my perception —the presence of thousands of people roaming the town— hundreds of smaller things started to appear, to stand out, crystal-clear and captivating my senses; and suddenly it was the halo-shaped light from the lamps, with their army of bugs flying around them and turning them into something unbelievably beautiful; suddenly it was a sound —the wheels of a bicycle on the concrete, a beetle buzzing its wings, the song of a nightingale, a dog barking in the distance... The world around me seems to be traversed by a magical force, a different kind of magic than I'm used to feeling, and I'm a part of it.

Where could she be? Will she be out tonight? I can almost feel her presence in the air, and anticipation builds inside of me. Yes, of course she's out tonight. It's Friday, the kind of night that begs to be explored, savored, and laid bare. She's a wanderer at heart, just like me, and on nights like this we come alive. So it's really more a question of where. Will she be in the park? Will she be sitting at a coffee house table, perhaps reading a book or chatting with some friends? Will she be at the movies? There are so many possibilities, so many chances of missing her, of spending the entire night walking around alone and not finding her, that it makes me a bit anxious, but that's also part of the charm; it's what makes my steps light and expectant and my heartbeat so strong, and what makes me look around all the time, like a detective searching for clues, for signs of any kind that could be everywhere or nowhere. The lamp, the nightingale, the bicycle, some neon sign —they all speak to me, and as I walk, it occurs to me that all of those things combined could eventually lead me to her, point me in her direction, if only I could read them correctly, if only I could put them in the right order. But no, deep down, from some dark corner inside myself, I sense that that approach is wrong too, it's been wrong since always. It can't be order what takes me to her; it's the unexpected things that I love the most, it's her unpredictableness that most attracts me to her, therefore... it has to be chaos. If I want to find her, to really find her, I should be able to forsake all order and embrace chaos, I should be able to throw all the pieces into the air and let them fall where they may. Only then would I be able to see the real picture, the pointing sign that hides inside the giant jigsaw puzzle. Only then, and not before.

As I walk across the park, I see some kids playing at King Penguin's playground under the watchful eyes of their parents, and when I pass over the small bridge I stop to look at them for a moment. It's a lovely sight, and it's somewhat incredible to think that some time long, long ago, I was like them, just as innocent and carefree. Well, almost like them. Since I have a memory I've always had powers, which have always marked me as different; but there was a life that was actually the first, in which I had actually been a child, born without any memories; a life in which I had to discover everything for the first time, in which I needed others to teach me and guide me and take care of me.

Leaning against the railing, I light a cigarette (something I reserve almost exclusively for contemplative moments like this, in which I feel the sting of nostalgia) and watch them. They're beautiful, yet so weak and dependent that I pity them; their lives are completely in the hands of others, of people that could hurt them, people that could leave them or die, people that won't always be by their side. And yet, despite that, I can't help but feel some sort of veiled envy; me, that except for an insignificant handful of years, have never depended on anyone; me, that have never needed anyone to protect me. Not even my guardians. I'm not such a hypocrite to not admit to myself that the real reason behind my guardians' creation wasn't really protection, but loneliness; pure and simple loneliness among so many people who could never know my secret, who could never know who I really am. And even though there were always a few people who knew, magic users and regular mortals who found a way to get close enough to know my true identity, there was always the need to keep them at a safe distance, for their own good.

Always, except for that one time… and that ended in disaster.

The dream of many nights ago comes to my mind again. Am I playing with fire? Wouldn't it be better to just turn around and go back home, to forsake any attempt at finding her and seeing her again, and just lock myself there with my guardians, in that house full of mirrors, and wait for some time, some days, some weeks, whatever it might take for this amazing woman who is somewhere in this city to get over whatever it is that she feels for me? Wouldn't that be the best gesture, the most valuable gift I could ever give her, to get the hell out of her life before I mess it up beyond repair? Does she really have any idea of who I am, of what she's getting herself into by being with me?

Suddenly, I remember a moment; an instant within a moment: a quick glance from her eyes, a smile. And words.

Ever since the night of the storm, when I cried my heart out in your arms and you held me, I've wanted nothing more... than to be close to you. Something pulled me back here... so I followed it.

And as soon as I remember that, a strange thought assaults me, something I should have really thought about before, but that I kept forgetting for some reason.

How on Earth did she find my house?

The first time she was there, I brought her. The second time she was roaming around, but only found it after being revealed and invited by Nakuru. But the third time, after she left Sakura at the airport, she got there on her own, and that... that makes no sense.

Because that house is protected by a heavy magical shield, and can't be found by anyone who doesn't possess great powers. I doubt that even Sakura, with the cards and all, would be able to find it. And I have no doubt in my mind that she has no magic powers, not even modest ones.

So… what the fuck.

And then, something strange, something inexplicable happens to me. The laugh tickles, bursts, explodes inside my chest, so suddenly and strongly it's unstoppable, and I have to let it out. A loud, hearty laugh, which earns me the looks of all the children in the playground, and also their parents. The cigarette falls from my hands.

Alright then! This is not just any woman; this is the weirdest mortal I've ever met, one that surprises me all the time, who shows up when I least expect her, who's able to see and understand almost as many things as I do and without any magical powers at all, who is so delightfully interesting and absurd and addictive that she has me running around town like an idiot in the hopes that I would bump into her, in some kind of wonderfully ridiculous game of hide-and-seek. No, she's not just any woman, and I don't really know what the fuck she is or what makes her so special; and as long as I can't tell, I can very well give her the benefit of the doubt.

And then suddenly, without even thinking about it, without even a moment to blink, I realize...

I know where she is.

It's not her presence; I'm still not feeling it, but nonetheless, I know, as if a light has suddenly flashed inside my mind, as if the pieces have somehow been tossed into the air, finally, and for the briefest of moments I've glimpsed the sign, the beacon that points in the right direction. And I know where she is, and I know she's waiting for me.

I put my hands back into my pockets, and start walking with the lightest step in that surprising night, with my heart beating excitedly in my chest and as happy as only a child could be.

…

---

Author Notes

Well, here I am again, alive and kicking! Thought I had died, or dropped this fic? Well, nope. What a lousy mother I'd be if I just abandoned my child like that? I've just been insanely busy with too many things (work, family, etc) to even count them. And my own damn obsessiveness, of course, that makes me write with the speed of a paralytic slug.

The thing is, this chapter turned out to be painfully long. So much that I eventually decided to cut it into two parts, all for your sake, my beloved readers, so you wouldn't end up hating me and falling asleep in front of your screens. This is the first half. Which means the other half (chapter 3) is almost entirely written already, just needing a bit of polishing, and it should be up soon (although if you learned something already, you shouldn't really trust me on this).

Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Yes, I know there isn't a whole lot going on in it, it's mostly them talking and fucking a lot, but what did you expect? They were pleading for it, those two, and besides, that's more or less what all new lovers do, right? They suffered a lot already, I felt like they deserved to catch a break... a "breather" of sorts (see what I did there? :0 ).

The thing about Eriol's house being demolished to build an amusement park is from the second CCS movie, The Sealed Card, where Sakura faces The Void. I had this in mind even when I wrote DYRL, that Eriol's house where it all happened couldn't be the same house we saw in the anime, but it was really pointless to address that issue in that story; there were other, more important things going on. But it's not so pointless anymore.

Anyway, thank you for reading! Now be nice and leave me a review so I know what you think! You'll make me very happy. ^.^