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Akogare
(Longing)
A CCS fanfic by Sakura
Standard disclaimers apply.
New edited version thanks to Belle-nee.
Tweaked
slightly 2004.12.09.
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He saw and knew everything.
And that was not because there was half of a
sorcerer named Clow Read inside him, a being who easily saw beyond the future
and possibly, what was even beyond that. No, it didn't take years of
magic, some fancy spell, a single incantation. It was simple --- he sat
at the back row, right behind her. All it took was a watchful eye and a
little acting to convince other people that you were busy with a novel instead
of staring at her long dark hair.
How many years had he been staring at that lovely
head of hers? He had been sitting behind her since fifth grade. So
it's been what, four years? Yes. He had been staring at her hair
for four years. He didn't even intend for things to happen that way; it
just seemed that whenever he drew lots for a seat there was some rule of Fate
that he pick the one behind her. Not that he minded. He really
didn't.
Sitting behind her like this, he saw and knew
everything.
He knew that she loved Sakura. It didn't take
much to figure that out. And unlike the others who just dismissed it all
as friendly affection, he knew her feelings ran deep. It was the morning
Li Syaoran came back from Hong Kong --- the way her smile faltered for the
briefest of seconds, the slight squeak in her voice, Welcome back, Li-kun, how
have you been? She was smiling, turning from Sakura's glowing face to
Syaoran's flushed one, her dark eyes filling with some emotion that was hard to
decipher. Despair? Loss? She then politely excused herself
and went back to her book. From that moment on she had been completely
changed.
His eyes absently trailed down the long dark hair
tumbling over her drooped shoulders, feeling the urge to string his fingers
through it, even if under the pretense of straightening out the tangles.
Instead his fingers clenched on the now forgotten novel in his grasp.
There were a thousand spells carved into his
memory. He idly ran through them one by one. He couldn't remember;
was there one for happiness? If there was one, impatiently pointed
out the small sane voice in his head, you would've used it a long time
ago. On yourself.
I am happy, she had defiantly said, raising
her head higher so she was looking down on him, staring him down with those
fiery violet eyes. They both knew it was a lie, but he wisely chose to
keep his silence. Tomoyo had this strange theory of happiness --- that
even if your heart burned with longing for this one person, just as long as
this person was happy (even if in the arms of another) that meant you were
happy as well. So there she was, doubling over with pain, and still she
gave herself a pat on the back, congratulating herself for finding bliss.
Or maybe he was exaggerating things. But he
really didn't comprehend this happiness of hers. If the Tomoyo he was
seeing right now was really happy, then he'd rather that she be sad.
Suddenly her shoulders straightened up and he
looked back down at his novel before she caught him staring at her.
"Hiiragizawa-kun," she softly said.
She was turned around in her seat so she was facing him.
He looked up with the customary smile.
She went on. "I have a favor to ask of
you."
***
The art teacher believed her excuse for not having
been able to turn in the sketch; taking in her distressed face, her trembling
hands. Okay, one more day, the teacher conceded, believing the fib ---
that she had a headache and wasn't able to draw anything in her state. It
was lucky that she was really feeling out of sorts, otherwise she wouldn't have
been able to pull it off.
He asked where she wanted to do the sketch.
The schoolyard, he asked, and she suddenly had a vision of Sakura and Syaoran seated
before each other sketching and laughing, and her chest tightened at
that. No, she said firmly, the music room. Never mind that it was
her private sanctuary. Just as long as it kept her away from it all.
He sat on the piano bench, pushing back the glasses
on the bridge of his nose, then pensively folding his hands together.
She pulled up a chair and sat down in front of him,
pencil ready.
"May I begin?" she asked politely,
well-versed in the language of strangers.
He nodded, equally distant. "Please
do."
A circle. The beginnings of a face.
Divide into two. Two circles for eyes, two larger circles for
glasses. A nose. A smile. Finished.
Eriol was simple to draw.
So why couldn't she come up with anything that
looked like him?
"Oh no," she groaned in spite of herself.
"What's the matter?"
"I'm afraid I'm not good at this."
"Take your time," he good-naturedly
responded.
She tried again, then shook her head.
"That's it," she said as she folded her
sketchbook, "I'll tell sensei that I can't turn in anything."
"You can." He lifted up the oak cover of
the piano and fingered an ivory key, pressing it slowly.
A single key, soulful in its solitude.
"By the way, the sketch you made yesterday was
simply amazing," she commented, opening her sketchbook, deciding to heed
his advice and try one more time. "You're really good at
drawing."
"It was nothing," he modestly responded,
pressing another key. "I just have more eyes than anybody else so I
see more detail."
Whether he was referring to his glasses or the
other half that existed in him, she didn't know. It probably didn't
matter.
She got up from her chair, walked around, and
gingerly sat on the bench beside him.
He glanced at her questioningly.
"I have only one pair of eyes so I need to
watch you better," she replied.
He turned back to the piano.
"Please don't mind me," she reminded him,
starting the sketch all over again.
Then he began to play. It was the same soft
lingering ballad she heard the other day, the morning when she walked in on him
while he was playing in the shadows.
"That's a beautiful piece."
"It's called 'Hikari Sasu Niwa'," he
replied.
'Hikari Sasu Niwa'. The Sunlit Garden.
And then they were there, sitting under the
trees, laughing with the sun in their eyes and in their outstretched hands, and
her gaze traveled over his sun-dappled face, realizing that he was much more
than circles and a smile. Pale skin, delicate nose, lovely dark blue
eyes, long dark lashes, tendrils of dark, almost black hair sweeping against
his forehead, gracefully, like the way his pale fingers swept over the
keys. Strangely, breathtakingly beautiful. How odd. And that
gentle smile, so unlike the clumsy curves she drew with her pencil.
Confused, Tomoyo turned back to her
sketchbook. The moment her eyes left his face, everything seemed to
dim… She couldn't recall how the eyes softened, how the curve of his jaw
ended, so she stared at him again and he was there again in the sunshine,
telling her of a time long ago when he also sat under the shade laughing---
Fingers dropped from the keys, halting the
music.
Tomoyo jerked back in surprise.
His dark blue eyes were downcast.
"Daidouji-san---"
She realized what she was doing and promptly turned
a bright shade of red. "I-I'm sorry, it was rude of me to
stare---"
"No, it's fine."
"I'm very sorry, I---"
"Really, it's fine."
They were back in the music
room.
She stood up and went back to the chair, watching
from a safe distance. "I'll stay here this time. Please don't
mind me."
He didn't move.
The pencil was mindlessly drawing frantic circles
all over the paper.
***
The art teacher looked up from the sketch.
"This will do. You may leave, Daidouji."
For a moment Tomoyo held back, wanting to reach out
and grab it --- that embarrassing parody of Hiiragizawa Eriol with the glasses
and the wide grinning mouth, no, that knowing smirk. How it was all
wrong, how it wasn't him at all.
But instead she meekly bowed and walked away.
***
Then one day Sakura accosted her as soon as the
teacher left the room, leaving her no choice but to stay in her seat instead of
bolting out of it and running to the safety of the music room.
"Tomoyo-chan, are you free this afternoon? You have no choral
practice on Tuesdays, right?"
Tomoyo's eyes widened, hopefully.
"Yes."
"Well, Syaoran-kun and I want to try out the
sundaes at the new ice cream parlor downtown today and we were wondering if you
wanted to join us."
Her heart sank. "Oh."
"Come on, it'll be fun!" Sakura
persisted, green eyes warm. "Plus, it's been a while since we went
out together."
Around a month or two, to be exact, since he came
back.
"You too, Eriol-kun." Sakura turned to
the boy seated behind her, deep in the pages of an English novel.
"Will you come?"
"Are you sure you wouldn't mind having me come
along?" came the usual polite query. Tomoyo recognized the
cautiousness in his voice, knowing that the amber-eyed boy beside Sakura was
probably glaring at him for all he was worth. After all, Syaoran still
mistrusted Eriol, although not as passionately as he used to.
She heard a drawn sigh. "No."
That was Syaoran himself. Sakura must've
nudged him in the ribs, giving him a look that read, He's our friend, MY
friend, give him a chance, please? Tomoyo smiled inwardly at that.
She knew as well as Syaoran did how impossible Sakura was to
resist.
Sakura gripped her shoulder excitedly.
"Hurry up, Tomoyo-chan!" She looked up to see the others
already standing up, waiting for her. She hurriedly got up and started
fixing her things, mumbling an apology under her breath.
"I hear they have so many new flavors.
They even have peach ice cream!" Sakura went on, helping with a book every
now and then.
"Peach?" Syaoran echoed incredulously.
"Peach." Sakura nodded. "Ne,
you love peach ice cream right, Tomoyo-chan?"
How long has it been since she had a perfectly
mindless conversation like this? It felt like years. She had been
away from her best friend for too long. She felt a smile tug at the
corners of her mouth, fought to stop it, lost, and smiled at her.
"Yes, I do. Very much."
***
The ice cream parlor was busy with students from
every school imaginable, flooding the shiny counters and booths in their
uniforms and with their bags and books. They sat at a booth next to the
window, settling themselves under the soothing cold of the air conditioner,
chatting gaily. Rather, Sakura was chatting gaily, Syaoran and Eriol were
talking every once in a while, and Tomoyo was watching them with a contented
smile. This afternoon could turn out well, if she kept her fingers
crossed.
"We might have to go to the counter ourselves," Eriol mused.
"Okay." Sakura nodded, getting up from her
seat. "I'll take our orders then." When Syaoran
immediately tried to get up too, Eriol stood up. "Please stay here
with Daidouji-san, Li-kun. I'll go with Sakura-san."
Syaoran hesitated for a moment, then sat back down
again. "Thanks."
While the two disappeared into the crowd, Syaoran
turned to Tomoyo with a nervous smile.
"So how have you been doing?"
If she was taken aback by the question, she didn't
show it. "I'm doing fine."
"I, well...that is, I haven't talked to you in
a while," he stammered. "It's...well, kind of funny,
considering we're in the same class, I mean."
She knew what he was getting at. She smiled
again, this time hoping it was more sincere. "I'm fine.
Really."
"Sakura's worried about you." He smiled
back, visibly relieved by her reaction. "She said you're always at
the choral club practicing. She thinks you're working too hard. She
was really glad to hear about this parlor and the peach ice cream.
Although why anybody would want to eat peach ice cream is beyond me."
His amber eyes widened, suddenly remembering. "No offense, I didn't
mean it that way---"
"How are you?" Tomoyo asked suddenly,
curious.
He blinked, startled. "Me?
Everything's swell."
"Are you happy?"
He fiddled with his napkin for a moment before
answering. When he spoke up, his voice was unusually quiet and shy.
"Yes, I am."
Tomoyo felt another smile coming. "Then
I'm glad."
"Thank you." He said it slowly,
meaningfully.
At that moment the sundaes came, and the peach ice cream
was heavenly.
***
Like all pleasant dreams, it was soon over, and
outside the ice cream parlor Sakura reached out to squeeze Tomoyo's hand.
"Tomoyo-chan, you loved the ice cream? You did? Let's do this
again sometime, okay?"
And Tomoyo stared into those wide green depths,
feeling the laughter bubbling up inside her. It was warm, ticklish.
"Why not?"
"Don't practice too hard, okay."
"Hai, okaasama."
And Sakura squeezed her hand again and laughed, and
Tomoyo had her back, even if it was just for a moment.
Then it was over.
She and Eriol stood watching until Syaoran and
Sakura disappeared into the distance. She turned to him. "And
thank you too, Hiiragizawa-kun. I have to go now, so..."
"May I walk you home?" he quickly asked,
the words flying out of his mouth before he could stop them. For a moment
he looked boyishly awkward standing there, awaiting her response.
She was amused. "Yes, thank you."
The walk home was silent, save for the busy sounds
of the city around them and the soft tapping of their shoes on the pavement.
"How are Spinel Sun and Nakuru-san
doing?" she asked. Maybe it was just the peach ice cream, but she
suddenly felt buoyant, careless, possessed by this overwhelming ridiculous urge
to ask about everybody she knew.
"They're doing very well. In fact, right
now--" Eriol closed his eyes for a moment and intoned in his strange deep
voice, "Spinel is deep in a tub full of bubbles--"
"He's taking a bath?" she asked.
His eyes flew open, then he smiled. "No,
he's washing dishes."
An image of the small blue-gray winged creature all
covered with soap, scrubbing dishes in the sink.
The laughter bubbled again inside her at the funny
thought.
"---And Ruby Moon is at school."
She stared at him, transfixed. "Can you
see him?"
"Yes," he answered, then frowned.
"No. Oh, there he is. He's reading a book. It's...the
title is, '10 Ways to Snag a Guy Who, After Being Subjected to The Living Hell
You Made For Him, Made Up His Mind to Ignore You for the Rest of His Life'."
The warm rush then merrily churned up her throat
and it was impossible to hold it back.
Tomoyo turned away from him and burst into gales of
laughter.
"But it's true." He pretended to scratch
his head in confusion, but looking up she saw his eyes were warm.
Wiping sudden tears of laughter from her eyes, she
read his pleased smile and knew that he was telling her patiently, indulgently,
as if he were kneeling under the tree in the sunlit garden and leaning close to
her ear and whispering, This is happiness. Laughing without a care
in the world. A frosted glass of peach ice cream in the afternoon
sun. Doesn't it feel good?
And she laughed again, embracing the newfound
warmth to her chest, sighing yes, yes, yes.
***
At the gate, they were back to their old selves.
Thank you for walking me home. Don't mention
it; it was my pleasure. Please take care. I will. See you at
school tomorrow.
Goodbye.
[ end
chapter 02 ]