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Kanaete

A CCS fanfic by Sakura

Standard disclaimers apply.

 

 

The non-sequel/sequel to Akogare. (?)

The title is from a lovely song by Arai Akino, which was used as the ED theme for the anime ‘Ayatsuri Sakon’.       

Props to Miss Jae for beta reading.

More author's notes at the end.

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            The student council meeting dragged on for hours.  Everyone was shifting in seats and coughing and casting longing stares out the window, and even Daidouji Tomoyo --- who was known for being extraordinarilly patient and supposedly capable of keeping deathly still for long periods of time --- was praying for the whole thing to end.  They were laying out plans for the Tomoeda Junior High School Festival, one of the school's biggest events.  The president was being very particular about detail; he had spent at least thirty minutes on each line on the agenda. 

 

            "Garbage people!" he yelled, pointing his clipboard at the Clean-Up Committee.  "You know what to do, right?" 

 

            A little snide voice piped up in Tomoyo's head.  Who wouldn't, when you've been shoving it down everyone's throats for the past two hours?  The boy sitting to her left suddenly smiled in amusement, as if he had overheard her thoughts.  She threw him a look and he gazed back innocently, dark blue eyes whimsical through his wire-rimmed glasses.

 

            Hiiragizawa Eriol. 

 

            Pale and dark-haired and enigmatic, born and raised in England, the reincarnation of an ancient powerful sorcerer named Clow Reed.  Fellow year-level representative.  She couldn't tell by his expression if he was bored to death as she was, but the handout resting on the desk in front of him was full of lazy sketches and unintelligible writing (later on he'd simply say quasi-intellectual gibberish, tucking the handout in his pocket for safekeeping).

 

            "What are you smiling at?" she hissed, feeling even crosser now that her neck killed her.

 

            The gaze didn't waver.  "Nothing."

 

            "Idiot."

 

            "Me?"  His dark blue eyes widened in mock surprise.

 

            If the situation took place at another time, she would've smiled in amusement.  (You act badly, she once told him, laughing at the wounded expression he fought hard to keep.  It was easier to laugh now; so much easier than before...)

 

            But now his antics failed to amuse her; she only scowled.  "Yes, I mean you."

 

            "And what makes you say that?"

 

            "Only idiots smile for no reason at all."

 

            "Hmm." was all he said as he slouched in his seat, absently tucking a leg under the other.

 

            "No, no," Tomoyo admonished, "that's not what you're supposed to say."

 

            "What am I supposed to say, then?"

 

            "I don't know, something smart."

 

            "Oh."  It sounded like a cross between a yawn and a chuckle.

 

            "You're not supposed to be on my side."

 

            "I guess not."

 

            "Defend yourself."

 

            "I'm not inclined to right now."

 

            "Well."  She paused to consider.  "Well.  Maybe later." 

 

            "Maybe later," he heartily agreed.

 

            Her eye fell on the paper on his desk.  Scanning the disarray, she spied a sketchy rendition of her profile beside the makings of a grocery list. 

 

            "Tomoyo."

 

            "Hmm?"  She absently asked, still staring at the paper.

 

            He suddenly straightened up in his seat, giving her a start.  "Look, things are starting to get interesting," he told her, quickly clamping a hand on top of the paper in a deliberate effort to cover the sketch.  "If we're lucky, we might even see a fight." 

 

            Ignoring his attempt to divert her attention, she reached out and tried to pry his fingers away from the paper.  "Come on, let me see."

 

            "See what?" he squeaked.

 

            "What I saw."

 

            His cheeks were crimson.  "What did you see?"

 

            At that point the president cut his tirade short to frown in their direction.  The two instantly assumed their best poker faces, picking up their pens and pretending to jot down notes.  An uneasy silence fell until the president finally gave a shrug and decided to go on with his speech.

 

            "Out with it," she muttered, hoping it sounded menacing enough.  It didn't work.

 

            "You saw nothing," Eriol mumbled under his breath.

 

            "Come on, let me take a look."

 

            "No."

 

            "How come?"

 

            "It doesn't matter."

 

            "What doesn't matter, the sketch or the reason for looking at it?"

 

            "Both," he snapped, finally managing to slip the piece of paper from under their hands, quickly stuffing it in the pocket of his blazer for

safekeeping. 

            Tomoyo sighed in defeat.  "You're hopeless."

 

            "I am," came his unabashed reply.

 

            She often found sketches of herself in his notebooks, on backs of tests and readers; and every time she'd come across them there would be a red-faced, stammering Eriol covering the page with a trembling hand or arm and hastily slipping the article under his desk for good measure. 

 

            There was one time, after fifteen minutes of coaxing, when he finally obliged her --- although he did look as if he wanted to bolt out of the room to save face --- shyly opening the back of his English reader.  The penned sketch was rough, but it was a perfect likeness --- long curls of velvet against her pale cheek, head bent, dark eyes focused on a book in her hands. 

 

            It's me, she exclaimed, tracing a finger down the jagged outline of an arm.  Always me. 

 

            Always, he echoed quietly, and his eyes were soft---

 

            The rapping of clipboard against table roused Tomoyo from her reverie.

 

            The president was on a roll.  A peek at the agenda told her they were now on the second to the last item, festival coverage and documentation.  People started to perk up and sit a little straighter in their seats, knowing that the ordeal would finally come to an end.

 

            "We need tapes," the president announced.  "V8s will do.  Around twenty to thirty of them." 

 

            A cough sounded from somewhere to his right as the treasurer raised a weary hand.  "Please be reminded that the budget is only enough for colored film and feed for just two video cameras..."

 

            "Don't be silly," the president shot back, instantly annoyed.  "We ran through that budget just ten minutes ago and you said it was

enough for 'comprehensive coverage'---"

 

            "'Comprehensive coverage', of course," continued the treasurer, "meaning what would be adequate for a small event such as this."

 

            "'Small event'?"  The president echoed in disbelief.  "You call the Tomoeda Junior High School Festival a 'small event'?!  If it were as insignificant as you say, we wouldn't be meeting like this in the first place!"

 

            So this was what Eriol had been referring to as 'interesting', Tomoyo thought.  The president had occasional tiffs with some council members and frequent screaming matches with the vice-president --- who never seemed to agree with him on anything (rumors say they had been going out for some time before politics got in the way) --- but a debate with the treasurer was definitely something new.  Eyes drifted back and forth, drinking in the spectacle, relieved at the prospect of entertainment.           

 

            "My point," the treasurer continued, "is that we have to work within our budget."

 

            "We are working within the budget, aren't we?"

 

            "The budget does not call for thirty V8 tapes."

 

            "How do you expect we provide 'comprehensive coverage', then?"

 

            "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I've always thought that 'comprehensive coverage' of an occasion doesn't necessarily mean filming every second of it---"

 

            "Are you trying to be funny?!"

 

            "No, I'm just being practical.  Thirty V8 tapes for a two-day occasion.  Is it worth it?"

 

            Is it worth it?

 

 

 

 

            /Is it worth it, Tomoyo-chan?/ she finally asked, cheeks flushed in embarrassment as shot after shot of her played on screen.  /I mean, using your camera and buying all those tapes.  It' s only card capturing, right?/ 

 

            /'Only card capturing'?!/  Tomoyo echoed, horrified.  /Sakura-chan, do you have any idea what you're talking about?  You're the one and only card captor in Tomoeda--- no, in the whole world!  It's not everyday you see someone doing something as splendid as this!/

 

            On screen, a burst of gold sprang out from Sakura's staff.  "Release!!"

 

            /You're probably right,/ Sakura gave in, rather reluctantly.  /But it 's really weird seeing my face on screen like this...  And I look funny in that skirt, don't you think?/

 

            /I think you look beautiful,/ Tomoyo commented, voice softening into a whisper. 

 

            /Beautiful?/ 

 

            /Very beautiful./

 

 

 

 

            "---so unless you're up to organizing a fund-raising project to come up with enough money for those thirty V8s of yours, may I suggest we set aside enough money for film and limit ourselves to at least 2 V8s, which I think would be enough for the most important events---"

 

 

 

 

            /An important event,/ Tomoyo declared, brush pausing in mid-stroke, /needs to be filmed and filmed well./  Her best friend blushed, toying with the hem of her pink skirt.  /But Tomoyo-chan, what if I trip on my costume or I forget my lines?  You'll have it all on tape!  That would be very embarrassing./

 

            Tomoyo just smiled and went on brushing her friend's hair.  /I'm sure you'll do just fine, Sakura-chan./  Her friend had soft, short golden brown hair that gleamed in the dull backstage light.  Tomoyo's pale fingers tenderly tucked in a few stray wisps behind her friend's ear before she finally leaned closer and said what Sakura had been longing to hear --- and what Tomoyo had never wanted to admit, ever--

 

            /And besides, you have Li-kun by your side.  As long as he's with you, everything will be all right./

 

            And she had it all on film --- his arm gently circling around her as he led her around the dance floor on the stage, their fingers entwined as they twirled round and round in the first of many waltzes; he the prince and she the princess --- the way things should have been.  The way things should always be.

 

            She filmed it all from her perch backstage, her finger tightly clamped down on the record button, not daring to let go.

 

 

 

 

            "---twenty V8s," wagered the president, now leaning against the desk for support, "and ten of them will be from my own pocket.  There.  Satisfied?  That way we don't have to sacrifice our plans just because of a supposed budget deficit---"

 

            A pale hand suddenly shot into the air.  "Excuse me."

 

            All heads turned to look at Tomoyo.

 

            "Just as long as..." she hesitated, "as you're sure that it really matters, having those thirty V8s---"

 

            "Of course it does!" the president crowed, eyes lighting up at the sight of her.  The only daughter of the president of the Daidouji Toy

Company, why didn't he think of her?  It was said that her weekly allowance was enough to finance the remodeling of the whole school.  If there was someone who could give the student council budget its needed push, it was her.

 

            "Not just those V8s," she quickly pointed out, "but also what goes into them.  What goes into them is what makes them important."

 

            "Why, isn't the school festival important enough for you?" 

 

            "Not to belittle a tradition," she paused, "but I always thought that something caught on tape is...something so precious to you that you'd want to treasure every second of it, something you'd never tire of watching over and over---"

 

            The president's eyebrow was twitching.  Did she dig this rubbish out from a silly shoujo manga or what?

 

            "---and I just wanted to know if this festival matters so much that we need to use up all thirty V8s for it."

 

            A question which brought them all back to where they started.

 

            The others groaned inwardly and sank in their seats as the president did a reprise of his 'Tomoeda-Junior-High-School-Festival-and-its-societal-significance' speech.  Only Tomoyo listened to his babble, desperately looking for something, she didn't know what---

 

 

 

 

            /You shouldn't come along, Tomoyo-chan,/ berated Sakura, looking as serious as possible in a white fluffy sheep costume.  /It's going to be dangerous, I just know it--/

 

            /Don't worry about me,/ Tomoyo shook her head, /just as long as I'm with you, I know I'll be safe./

 

            Sakura's green eyes regarded her for a moment.  /But Tomoyo-chan.../

 

            /Hmm?/

 

            /Is it worth it?/ 

 

            There it was again, that question.  Tomoyo just smiled, hefted the camera up, and trained it on her.  /Sakura-chan, frowning like that doesn't suit you!  Come on, smile, smile!/

 

            The apprehensive expression on screen didn't change.  /You didn't answer my question, To---/

 

            /Ooooiii!/ rang a cry from the distance.  /Hurry up, it's coming!/

 

            Sakura didn't move.  /Tell me./

 

            /Yes,/ Tomoyo answered quietly, /it is worth it.  And you are worth it all./

 

            Then she took her friend's hand in hers and led her to where the others were waiting.  /I'm not scared.  I know you'll always do your best to protect everyone./

 

            /I will,/ Sakura vowed, her hand tightening on hers, /I'll protect you, Tomoyo-chan.  No matter what it takes./

 

            And she did.  Sakura kept her promise.  She fought for her life and protected her fiercely, lovingly, until the danger had finally ceased to come.  Until there wasn't a need for her to protect her best friend anymore.

 

            Until someone else, that someone, had finally come to take her place.

 

           

 

 

            She felt the slightest brush of his finger against her hand and knew he was worried.  Are you sure about this? his touch seemed to say.  Think it over first.  You don't have to give it all up just for this---

 

            "So what do you think, Daidouji-kun?" eagerly asked the president.  "Was that enough to convince you?"

 

 

 

 

            You've kept them, treasured them all this time.  Are you sure you want to give them all up?

 

 

 

 

            "Yes," she answered quietly.

 

            "Splendid!  How much will you be donating to the fund---"

 

            "Not money," she cut him off, making the others jump at the urgency in her voice. 

 

            "Not money?!"

 

            "Instead, I have a proposition to make." 

 

 

 

 

            Is it all worth it, Tomoyo?

 

 

 

 

            "A proposition?"

 

            "Allow me to explain." 

 

 

 

 

            Sakura-chan was worth everything.

 

            But it's not Sakura-chan who means the world to me now.

 

            That means I can give them up.

 

            That means I can finally move on.

 

 

 

 

            As she spoke, her eyes focused on the president's face and dared not stray anywhere else --- not at the dirty white ceiling, not at the dusk falling outside the window, not at the people slouched in their seats and counting the seconds off their fingers...

 

            Not at the boy sitting beside her, regarding her with dark blue eyes that were clouded over with so many emotions --- something that resembled sadness, maybe doubt; something that was anxiety, maybe curiosity; and a glimmer of something that was so much but not quite like happiness.

 

 

[ chapter 01 end ]

 

 

Author’s Notes (old):

 

            That probably didn’t make any sense.  -_-  Bear with me. 

            One day I vowed, "This time I'll be making something that has a plot and doesn't dash madly for the end like Suppi-chan on a sugar high!" and started drafting this fic.  So here we are.  I plan to be more coherent in this fic, more or less (compared to 'Akogare', which I wrote when the ExT bug had just caught me --- rendering me feverishly delirious >_<).  I remember reading a review of the latter on ff.net which went, "if this is going to be ExT, then tell me what happens to Kaho" and I took it as some sort of a challenge.  Which is really hard, considering I practically did away with Kaho in that particular storyline.  But I figured, hey, it wouldn't hurt to bring her in,  right?  Akuyaku mo inai shi. *evil snicker*  So other than that detail, this is basically a continuation of events that took place in 'Akogare'.  Which makes this a sequel that's not quite a sequel.  I hope that didn’t confuse anyone. >_<    

            Up Next : packing up, premonitions, an unexpected telegram.               

 

Author’s Notes (new):

 

            ...WTF.  I probably should’ve told Miss Jae to kick me when I wrote lengthy embarrassing notes.