Strawberry Surprises Chapter 3: Emotional Riptide, a card captor sakura fanfic

Chapter 3: Emotional Riptide

Tomoyo sat on the windowsill, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow on the world outside. From her spot, she could see Sakura down below, tending to the garden with a soft smile on her face. It was a peaceful scene, the kind of moment that Tomoyo used to cherish. But now, all she could feel was the tightening in her chest.

Sakura had been recovering. Slowly, day by day, the sadness she carried after Li's departure was fading, replaced by something lighter, something closer to happiness. But with each step Sakura took toward healing, Tomoyo felt herself unraveling.

She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window, her breath fogging up the surface. *She's happy again... and that's all that should matter, right?* But the hollowness in her chest told her otherwise. Watching Sakura smile like that—so unaware, so distant—only made the ache worse.

For a moment, Tomoyo let herself imagine what it would be like to confess. To say everything she had been holding back for so long. What would Sakura do? Would she pull away? Would she smile that same warm smile, full of love but not the kind Tomoyo needed?

No, I can't* she thought, pulling away from the window, shaking her head. *She's been through enough. I can't make this about me.*

But even as she tried to push the thoughts aside, they kept creeping back. Each day spent by Sakura's side, each smile they shared, felt like it was pulling her deeper into a current she couldn't escape. Tomoyo closed her eyes, trying to gather herself, but all she could think about was how much harder it was becoming to stay silent.

The garden was quiet, bathed in the soft afternoon light. Sakura sat on her knees, carefully arranging a bouquet of freshly picked flowers. The gentle breeze ruffled the petals, carrying the scent of lavender and roses through the air.

She hummed softly to herself, her hands moving slowly, each flower placed with careful deliberation. But after a while, her movements faltered. The flowers blurred in her vision, the calm surroundings slipping away as her mind wandered.

There was something about the silence that unsettled her. A nagging feeling, like a memory just out of reach. She paused, her hands stilling as she stared blankly at the half-arranged bouquet. *What am I forgetting?* she wondered, her thoughts clouded with the strange sense that something important was missing, something she should remember.

"Sakura-chan?"

Sakura jolted slightly at the sound of Tomoyo's voice. She turned to see her friend standing nearby, watching her with a concerned expression.

"Oh, sorry, Tomoyo-chan," Sakura said, offering a small, apologetic smile. "I was just... thinking."

Tomoyo stepped closer, her concern deepening. "About what?"

Sakura hesitated, glancing back at the flowers. "I don't know, really. It's strange. Sometimes I get this feeling... like I'm forgetting something. Something important. But it's all blurry."

Tomoyo knelt beside her, her eyes never leaving Sakura's face. "What do you mean?"

Sakura shook her head, her smile returning but not quite reaching her eyes. "It's nothing. Just a weird feeling. I've probably just been overthinking things."

Tomoyo didn't press further, but the unease lingered. Sakura's recovery had been going well, or so Tomoyo thought. But these moments of distraction, these vague references to something missing, made Tomoyo wonder if there was more to Sakura's recovery than she realized.

They sat in silence for a while, with Sakura eventually resuming her work in the garden, her movements slower now, more deliberate. Tomoyo watched her closely, her concern deepening with each passing moment.

That night, long after Sakura had gone to bed, Tomoyo found herself wandering the halls of the house. The quiet of the night only seemed to amplify the noise inside her mind. She paused outside Sakura's bedroom door, her hand hovering over the handle.

What was she doing? What did she even hope to accomplish by standing here like this? She wasn't going to walk in. She wasn't going to say anything. And yet, here she was, drawn to Sakura like a moth to a flame.

It's not fair* she thought, clenching her fist. *I've done everything I can to be there for her, to make her happy. So why does it feel like I'm the one drowning?*

She leaned her forehead against the door, closing her eyes. *I love you, Sakura... but it's not enough, is it? No matter how much I give, it'll never be enough.*

Tomoyo stood there for what felt like an eternity, lost in her own thoughts, before she finally turned away. She made her way back to her own room, her footsteps heavy with the weight of everything she couldn't say.

That same night, Sakura dreamed again. The streets were empty, bathed in shadows and silence. She walked through them, her footsteps echoing eerily in the darkness. She was searching, though she didn't know what for. The familiar panic was building in her chest, her breaths coming faster as she quickened her pace.

Somewhere in the distance, she thought she saw him—a figure, fleeting and indistinct, disappearing around a corner. She tried to call out, but the words caught in her throat, swallowed by the oppressive quiet. Her heart raced as she ran forward, the sense of urgency growing. *Where is he?* The figure slipped away again, just out of reach.

Sakura's desperation grew. She kept running, faster now, feeling as if the shadows were closing in. Her chest tightened with fear, the streets around her warping into a labyrinth of darkness. She had to find him—Li was there, wasn't he? Just ahead. Just out of sight. She couldn't let him slip away again.

As she rounded the next corner, her vision blurred. The figure was gone, swallowed by the dark. All that remained was a faint reflection in the distance—a flash of something familiar, like an afterimage, the shimmering outline of Mirror. The reflection flickered, fragile and delicate, before shattering into countless pieces, scattering across the ground with a soundless crash.

The shards glistened in the dim light, each fragment reflecting something she couldn't quite grasp—distorted images, broken memories.

Her breath caught, and she jolted awake, heart pounding in her chest, her body coated in a thin layer of sweat. She pressed her palm hard against her forehead, wiping away the dampness as the dream's grip slowly loosened. Her fingers trembled slightly as she tried to shake off the lingering sense of panic.

What am I forgetting?* The thought surfaced again, sharper this time, cutting through the haze of her mind. Something about the dream had unsettled her, something more than just Li. There was a piece missing—a truth just out of reach, slipping through her fingers like the fragments of a shattered mirror.

The room was dark, the silence around her thick and suffocating. She sat up slowly, her heart still racing, the image of Mirror's shards flashing through her mind. The memory of the dream was already fading, slipping away like smoke, but the unease remained. *Why does it feel like I'm forgetting something important?*

But outside her room, just beyond the door, the shadows stirred. Tomoyo stood in the hallway, silent and watchful. She had been there for a while now, just as she had been every night since Sakura had moved in. Waiting. Always just outside the door, just close enough to listen.

Tomoyo's eyes flickered toward the faint sounds from within the room. She knew Sakura had been dreaming again—the subtle shifts in her breathing, the small murmurs that escaped her lips. Tomoyo could always tell. She leaned lightly against the wall, her face hidden in the shadows, her expression unreadable in the dark.

She hadn't meant to stay so long. But every night, without fail, she found herself drawn to this spot. Standing here, just outside, as if keeping watch. As if waiting for something to change.

The quiet lingered in the house. Tomoyo waited a moment longer, her ears attuned to the now steady rhythm of Sakura's breathing, before turning and walking silently back down the hallway, her footsteps soundless on the wooden floor.