moonlitnights: old/stories/dearsakura-25.txt comparison

comparison old/stories/dearsakura-25.txt @ 2:fc00894c1d4a moonlitnights

[svn r3] moved all the bad stuff to 'old'

author	rlm
date	Fri, 19 Feb 2010 20:53:12 -0500
parents
children

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+"Ouch!" Sakura shook her finger in the air and then sucked on the
+fingertip, tasting the salty tang of her own blood. How did Tomoyo do
+all that sewing without ending up like a pincushion? Smiling
+ruefully, she realized that her sewing skills were lacking because
+she always depended on Tomoyo, her father, and even her brother for
+most thread and needlework. She could mend a tear and put on a patch,
+but the tailoring that her best friend did was simply beyond her. She
+remembered early on as a Cardcaptor peeking into a company van and
+seeing the spectacular wardrobe Tomoyo had prepared for her.  At the
+time, she concluded the massive resources of the Daidouji household,
+or even Daidouji Toys, Ltd., had been marshaled and deployed to clad
+her in a parade of kawaii regalia. Only later did she learn that
+Tomoyo did every stitch herself. Through the years that followed, the
+two girls spent hours together, talking and drinking tea while Tomoyo
+fitted and altered the amazing creations. Being with the little
+seamstress made precious an experience that would otherwise have been
+tedious as Sakura stretched and posed while Tomoyo snipped and sewed.
+For the Card Mistress it was a chance to talk about her loves and
+fears and joys while the dark-haired girl listened, solemn and cheery
+in turn. Tomoyo was as careful with her heart as with the delicate
+fabrics that made up the costumes, and her carefully considered
+advice and reassurance helped Sakura through many a difficult time.
+As she sewed a strip of satin to trim the hem of the little yellow
+dress Tomoyo had left in Hong Kong, Sakura began to grasp the
+countless hours of labor that the quiet, pale girl had spent just to
+make her look special.
+Again she remembered that truck full of outfits Tomoyo unveiled
+before they went to capture the Shadow card. There was a spectacular
+array of over 50 costumes that ranged from the cute to the dramatic,
+with the occasional practical piece thrown in for good measure. After
+the terrifying exertions of capturing Shadow, Sakura had asked Tomoyo
+how she got so many costumes ready so quickly. Tomoyo smiled
+enigmatically and replied,
+"Oh, I've been working on them for over a year".
+Sakura gave the girl a baffled look and blurted out, "But you only
+found out about me and Clow Cards a few days ago."
+Tomoyo tilted her head, lavender hair blending into the dark,
+moonless night as she answered in a musical voice, "I've always known
+Sakura-chan was a magical girl.”
+Sakura merely sweatdropped, dismissing this as one of her adoring
+friend's many eccentricities. But now, years later, she was quietly
+astonished. Long before the creations of Clow Reed had found her,
+Tomoyo saw her as magical. Not for her power, or the cards she
+captured, but for herself. Sakura smiled as she worked the needle
+carefully through the gossamer material. From the day they met in
+that third grade classroom, Tomoyo's love had been ever-present,
+wrapped around Sakura’s heart like a comforting cocoon. She was
+always special to the sapphire-eyed girl, long before she was the
+Mistress of the Cards. Sakura paused, puzzled, the silver needle
+poised in midair as she softly whispered,
+"It's as if I was always her special person". She felt her face
+flush scarlet: that wonderful flustery feeling of being loved by
+Tomoyo. How she missed that in Hong Kong. The longing grew worse
+every day without her. The ache in her breast was finally assuaged by
+that enchanting visit, but her heart shattered watching the aircraft
+spirit Tomoyo away. Her special person. Sakura stared at the fabric
+in her lap, the last, unfinished design of her best friend. With a
+grin, she shook her head and thought a little sadly, oh, to be her
+special person for just one day! Sakura had been slow to realize the
+depths of Tomoyo's love. Only distance, which clove the two friends
+as nothing before, revealed how cruel separation could be. Without
+the constant presence of that fulsome love, Sakura felt hopelessly
+adrift. She tumbled into dark despair, with only her unrealized love
+to light the way. Glowing like a little candle in the blackest night,
+that love for Tomoyo finally blazed forth when she at last understood
+her heart. And though she was not Tomoyo's special someone, that did
+not affect her own love in the least. Even if Tomoyo did end up
+happily with her special person, Sakura's love would shine forth like
+a beacon through the pain of not having her. I'll love her no matter
+what, she thought to herself. But I'll die if she leaves me.
+Remembering the chilling farewell in Tomoyo’s last letter, Sakura
+teetered on the brink of tears. If she leaves me. Taking a deep
+breath, Sakura buried the thought, for she could not face such a
+wretched possibility. "Buttons", she said suddenly, "I need buttons
+for this dress".  Rising, she carefully placed the dress on the desk,
+slipping off the thimble and absent-mindedly massaging her pin-
+pricked hands. Stretching, she felt the fatigue fall from her body as
+muscles tensed and relaxed. The buttons would be upstairs, in the
+attic, with the sewing supplies she had packed away before moving to
+Hong Kong. She walked from the room, down the hall past her sleeping
+brother, and climbed the ladder to the trap door. Emerging into the
+darkness, she carefully felt her way along the wall and then
+hesitated as a fear of the dark bubbled up from long ago. Slowly
+letting out a breath she grimaced, ashamed at such a childish worry.
+Inching her way forward, her nimble fingers finally brushed against
+the light switch and clicked it on. The naked bulb starkly
+illuminated the maze of tightly stacked boxes and trunks. Sakura
+realized her father or brother had rearranged things since she left,
+for the sewing things were nowhere to be seen.
+With a shrug she began to move boxes, coughing in the billowing
+dust. Finally, on the verge of giving up, she uncovered a small
+shoebox with the word, "notions" written on the side. The writing
+puzzled her, for she did not recognize the almost childish script.
+With a tug, she pulled it out from the little nook it was wedged
+into. Opening the lid, she found a box full of buttons- perfect! She
+smiled and carried the little treasure over to the light, examining
+the varied circles and squares of plastic and metal. Spilling some
+out onto the lid, she nodded happily. These would do just fine. Then,
+Sakura's attention was caught by something at the bottom. She poured
+more buttons out in a little pile, and gingerly pulled out a faded
+photograph.
+The colors had washed out over the years, but the figures were
+instantly recognizable. Tomoyo’s mother was dressed in a schoolgirl's
+sailor suit. Draped over the young Sonomi was Sakura's mother,
+similarly clad in a dark blue dress, a red bow around her collar.
+With one arm she embraced her cousin, while the other was held up,
+triumphantly showing two bandaged fingers in a little "V" for
+victory. Both girls were smiling merrily, surrounded by the supplies
+and equipment of what looked like a Home Economics classroom. Sakura
+turned the picture over, and written in that same childish
+handwriting that adorned the box were four lines:
+"Hiroji-sensei's class
+7th grade
+I passed!
+Thank you, Sonomi-chan"
+The back was decorated with odd little doodles of hearts and
+flowers. Sakura looked again at the picture and smiled, thanking her
+mother for the little present that had waited so patiently. Tomoyo's
+costume could have no better buttons than these. Emptying them back
+into the box, the auburn-haired woman carefully placed the photograph
+on top and replaced the lid, tucking the package under her arm.
+Turning off the light, she moved to the entranceway of the attic and
+climbed down to the hall. Returning to her room, she placed the
+shoebox on the desk, took up the fabric and began to sew again. She
+was startled when a familiar voice called out from the shadows behind
+her,
+"What are you doing?"
+She turned quickly, and saw Syaoran standing up against the wall,
+arms crossed and scowling. She rose and took one step towards him,
+but something in his manner froze her. In a meek tone she answered,
+"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before I left, but I had to hurry. I
+called Ieran-sama when my flight arrived. Didn't she tell you"?
+Syaoran looked away with barely suppressed anger, as if he were
+addressing a hopelessly slow child. Then he nodded to the pile of
+fabric on the floor and impatiently repeated himself, "What-are-you-
+doing"?
+"Oh", Sakura glanced at the dress she had dropped to the floor. She
+scurried to pick it up, and held it in front of her husband. Her
+smile faltered as he recoiled in horror at the unfinished costume he
+had seen in his Mother’s magic. He yelled at her,
+“Put that damn thing away. Where did you get it? What is it?”
+Neatly folding the costume, she placed it back on the desk, then
+faced Syaoran, her hands held to her breast as she replied,
+"I, I wanted to make something for Tomoyo-chan. Well, actually, she
+made it, the design, I mean, I could never do something like this.
+And she started it, but because of the wedding dress being the last
+thing she would make for me she didn't finish, and I thought I could,
+well, finish it for her, and I found some of mother's buttons in the
+attic and..." Her voice trailed off into silence. Caught by her
+husband's withering stare, she felt small and foolish.
+As he calmed down, Syaoran struggled to keep his sense of gravity.
+As if impressed by his own cleverness, he sneered, “I knew that crazy
+girl had something to do with all this. All right, get your things
+together and let’s go.”
+But instead of compliance, Sakura stood with her hands clasped and
+head bowed. Syaoran stepped towards her, irritated at this unusual
+hesitation. In a soft but firm voice she broke the silence, “I’m not
+going. I have to see Tomoyo-chan”.
+He stopped short, flabbergasted. All he could manage was a hoarse,
+“What”?
+Sakura looked up at him, jade eyes flashing a fiery determination he
+had rarely seen since the days of card capturing. But her voice was
+calm as she continued, “Tomoyo-chan said she is going to leave. I
+have to see her.”
+The future Head of the House of Li frowned, struggling to suppress
+his anger. He snapped at the woman within arm’s reach, “You can call
+her on the phone, or write one of your silly letters. We’re going
+home- now”.
+Sakura looked at the floor and slowly shook her head. He felt a wild
+urge to strike her, to slap the defiance out of her. Barely in
+control of his raging emotions he spluttered, “I can’t believe I’m
+hearing this. What kind of garbage did she fill your head up with”?
+He paused, and drew a deep breath. This was not like his complacent
+wife at all. Very well. The chivalrous husband would try a new tack
+and forgive his erring wife. He pronounced in a patronizing and
+reassuring tone, “Now let me help you with your bags and we can talk
+about it on the plane.”
+But Sakura looked up at him, earnestly gazing at his face. Finally,
+she said simply, “No”.
+Fists clenched, shaking with fury, he turned his back on her,
+shaking with rage. How dare she defy him! After running off to Japan,
+wasting money they did not have, and now refusing to obey. Unable to
+contain his anger, he slammed his fist into the door, nearly rattling
+it off the hinges. “Damn it!” he yelled, “Who do you think you are?”
+Whirling to face her, falling into a fighting stance, his mind raced
+out of control. But the young woman simply stood before him, calm and
+unafraid.  Suddenly there came a knock on the door, and a male voice
+called out, “Sakura-chan, what’s going on?” The door opened, and a
+pajama-clad Touya peered into the room. Seeing Syaoran, he frowned,
+and then looked carefully at his younger sister. In as neutral a
+voice as he could manage he asked,
+“Do you need any help”?
+Sakura relaxed, smiled, shook her head and answered sweetly, “No,
+everything is fine. I’m sorry we woke you up. We’ll be more quiet”.
+Touya shot another warning look at his least favorite brother-in-law
+before sizing up the seemingly unconcerned young woman. “OK”, he
+spoke in his usual laconic voice, as if such domestic squabbles
+around the house at 3 A.M were the norm, “But you call me if you need
+me. Goodnight.”
+When the door closed, the two stood silent, facing each other for
+the longest time. Finally, with an exasperated sigh Syaoran fixed his
+wayward wife with a hard stare. His voice was commanding, even
+patronizing, as if he would no longer brook her exasperating
+insolence,
+“Sakura, you have to make choices in life. You have to have
+priorities. You’re a big girl now, married to the future Head of the
+House of Li. I can’t have you running off every time some loopy girl
+from the past calls you on the phone. You just can’t do this sort of
+thing. It makes me look ridiculous. Tomoeda was nice, but it’s all
+over now. You have a new life, with me You’re going to have to choose
+between your friend and your true love. Now, go get your things and
+we’ll forget all about this”.
+At first Sakura looked at him with surprise, and then stared at the
+floor. The Chinese sorcerer smiled as he detected the glint of tears
+welling in her eyes. She looked deep in thought, and after a moment
+looked up at him with wet and sparkling eyes. Her voice was brimming
+with emotion as she spoke,
+“I’m sorry, Syaoran-chan. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I
+guess I knew the choice would come someday soon, just not this soon.
+If only I’d known. I’m so sorry.”
+The tears coursed down her cheeks as she stood miserably before him.
+Well, he thought, at least she’s speaking sense now. He almost felt
+pity for her, though his anger was still too fresh and raw for that.
+He did care for her, though at times like this love was an ordeal.
+Still, he would find it in his heart to forgive her. But he would
+make sure she never saw or talked or wrote to that crazy Daidouji
+woman ever again. Syaoran’s quiet voice brimmed with magniminity for
+a defeated foe, “Come on Sakura-chan. Let’s go home.”
+But the woman did not move, looking at him sadly as she spoke, “I’m
+not going.”
+Too baffled to be angry, he gawked at her, mouth open as if his
+words were frozen in mid-sentence. Sakura shook her head and spoke
+almost pleadingly,
+“It’s my fault. I should have known my own feelings. If I had, all
+this would never have happened. I’ve hurt so many people: you, your
+mother, Meiling-chan, Tomoyo-chan. All because I was too stupid to
+know what was in my heart.”
+Syaoran could only stare in disbelief as the woman hugged herself
+tightly for reassurance before continuing,
+“Syaoran-chan, you were always one of my very best friends. I
+couldn’t have done what I did with the cards without you. It meant so
+much to me that we were together. And I do love you, as a friend
+forever in my heart. But now I know my true love is Tomoyo-chan. I’ve
+loved her all along, but just didn’t understand. Not until last
+night. Last night. That’s only a day ago.” The woman looked stunned
+as she said this, as if an entire life had been lived in only 24
+hours. After a brief smile, she spoke again,
+“Last night I finally realized who I love. My one, true love. My
+special person. She was so close for so long that I never knew until
+she was gone. I could have saved everyone so much pain if I knew.”
+Pain. Syaoran felt it in a wave, as helpless as when Meiling
+connected with his solar plexus earlier that day. Staring at his wife
+in dumb incomprehension, he managed to croak out,
+“But Sakura, I love you.”
+She looked at him, and he had the uncomfortable sensation that with
+her magic she could see straight to his heart. She smiled and asked
+gently, “Do you really love me Syaoran, like that? It really hasn’t
+felt that way. Not like I thought it would. Not like what I feel from
+her.”
+Indignant and righteous, he made ready to protest. But the auburn-
+haired woman held up her hand and commanded his silence. A sudden
+wave of something ineffable washed over them both, a shuddering,
+prickly sensation that enveloped him like a living fog. He stared at
+his wife, for somehow she was changed. It was as if all the magic
+were drained out of her like water in broken crockery. She stood
+before him, not the Mistress of the Cards, but as little Kinomoto
+Sakura, sweet, genki, and horribly ordinary. Her voice was the same
+he had heard on a playground long ago, when the Cards were in the
+air, and a Japanese schoolgirl had just begun her long journey,
+“You loved Yukito once, like I did. But when my powers grew greater
+than his, then your affection for me did, too. Do you really love me,
+Syaoran-chan? If I was just plain old Sakura, would you still love me
+then?”
+He recoiled at the sight. Stripped her magical glamour she seemed
+small and weak. Where was the enchanting woman he had married? Where
+was the successor to the famed Clow Reed? Was this some illusion, a
+doppelganger that had abducted his precious wife and substituted some
+bland and pathetic double? He began to speak, to accuse and threaten
+this alien presence, when he heard Sakura’s voice, distant yet
+familiar. She stared at him, his mind hers to know. Sadly shaking her
+head, she quietly spoke,
+“ I’m not an illusion. It’s just me. It’s just me without my magic.
+It’s who I really am. But I don’t think it’s who you really love. Do
+you? Do you really love me, Syaoran-chan?”
+He felt sick as he looked at her. She was nothing, a nobody. In a
+bitter tone he declared, “You sound just like Mother.”
+Sakura let out a little sigh and the two stood silent. Finally, she
+spoke in a voice etched with the pain of a new found knowledge,
+“Ieran-sama is very wise. For all my power, she is much wiser than
+me. She was right, Syaoran-chan. We don’t belong together. Now I know
+that she didn’t really hate me. She just wanted what was best for
+everyone. Even me.”
+With that he looked up and saw her as he knew her, energy flooding
+back, filling her pure power. In fear and awe he beheld her, once
+again the dread Mistress of the Cards. He reeled backwards, confused
+and frightened, his mother’s mocking voice blaring inside his head.
+He held his hands to his temples as her piecing words echoed, “You
+don’t love her. You love her power.” He felt helpless, a rag doll in
+the hands of a blind and savage Fate. Struggling to regain his calm,
+he leaned against the wall and whimpered. Sakura stood with her hands
+at her side, unable to comfort her shattered husband. Finally he
+composed himself enough to turn and face her. He was no man’s fool.
+He was not to be trifled with. Trembling, he took an envelope from
+his pocket, opened it, and placed a ticket on the nearby dresser. His
+face was blank as he spoke,
+“I’m leaving. If you are not on this plane when it departs, then
+don’t bother coming back again. Ever.” He felt a surge of power, as
+if he, and not this stupid and dangerous woman, was in control. She
+bowed low, her sad, verdant eyes locked with his as she answered
+softly,
+“Hai, Syaoran. Sayonara.”
+He strode for the door, and then stopped. Turning quickly, he gaped
+at her, his face twisted with loathing. He spat out the bitter words,
+“I don’t love you. I hate you.” Then he walked through the door and
+shut it firmly.
+For a long time, Sakura stared at the closed door. Syaoran’s parting
+words stung her, even though she knew they were not true. Consumed
+with anger, his words spilled, tainted and colored by out-of-control
+emotions. But part of what he said was true: he did not love her. Or,
+rather, he loved her as a friend, and no more. Oddly, this was great
+consolation for the shattered woman, who saw her marriage of months
+implode in minutes. Had Syaoran truly loved her, she would have been
+chained to a marriage that was a terrible mistake. For thousands of
+years, women have borne loveless matches, and Sakura would have been
+one among millions of sad and broken hearts.  Perhaps she could have
+found some happiness in children, or teaching, or even magic, all
+while her heart longed for her true love. Or she might have died
+slowly, longing for a love she could never have. Even leaving him
+later was a stark possibility, and could only have made things worse
+with the passage of time.
+With a sigh, Sakura sat at her desk and again took up sewing. The
+rhythm of needle and thread calmed her heart, for there was stillness
+in the motion of every stitch. Suddenly she flinched as the needle
+pricked her finger. Gazing at her hand, she put her work on the table
+and slipped off the golden wedding ring. Placing it by the ticket on
+the desk, she thought, I'll send it to him later. She stared at her
+now bare finger. The ring came off so easily, as if their marriage
+had never been. But that was not quite true either, for much had
+happened in married life  she did not regret, and would never forget.
+Picking up the yellow dress and sewing again, she recalled the
+exquisite anticipation of her wedding day, and the mystery of the
+night that followed. To be in Syaoran’s company, if not quite love,
+was pleasant, the companionship of two good friends. "It was my fault
+for wanting it to be more, for not knowing my own feelings", she
+whispered sadly. Curiously, Sakura felt no regret for the end of her
+marriage. But she did feel sorry for the pain she brought Sayoran,
+and knew that regret would never leave her.
+Paradoxically, the greatest gift of her marriage was the misery of
+being without Tomoyo. Growing up with the girl, she came to take her
+amazing presence for granted. Being so close to that dazzling spirit
+had blinded Sakura to her own true feelings. Only in Hong Kong did
+she learn the hard lesson of what Tomoyo meant to her. When marriage
+pulled them apart, she finally saw that life without the azure-eyed
+girl was simply impossible. Accepting Syaoran's proposal, she prayed
+marriage would bring her love. It did, but in a way completely
+unforseen. Marriage was a strange path leading her far away, yet
+bringing her back to where she started. But oh, how diffreent things
+were now! When she left, Tomoyo was her friend. But tonight, as her
+marriage ended, Tomoyo was her one, true love. And tommorow she would
+see her again.
+Sakura felt awash in giddy anticipation. Freedom swept her soul like
+a gentle zephyr, a whipsering wind of possibilities and hope. Soon
+she would see Tomoyo, lay her love at the dark-haired girl's feet,
+and beg her to stay. She gigled, wondering about the woman's reaction
+to so stunning a revelation. Perhaps she could never take the place
+of that special someone in her friend's gentle heart. But just to be
+with her, to feel Tomoyo's love again was enough. Even more, Sakura
+wanted to make her happy, to heal the pain in those azure eyes. "I'll
+give her everything I have", she thought, stitching the last button
+into place, "though she already has my heart."
+With that, she held up the costume, admiring the work. Well,
+admiring Tomoyo's work, anyway, perfect as always. Her own
+contribution was flawed: an uneven line here, a too-big button hole
+there. But it was her work, and now the costume was theirs. Lovingly
+she folded the silken fabric, and suddenly felt very, very  tired.
+Resting her head on the desk she whispered dreamily, "Tommorow.
+Tommorow  I'll see her. I'll see my angel."
+And so, sleep came at last.

Mercurial > moonlitnights

comparison old/stories/dearsakura-25.txt @ 2:fc00894c1d4a moonlitnights