Dear Sakura

 by Amazoness Duo and G.P.

 amazonessduo@hotmail.com

 pearsong1954@yahoo.com

 

 I.

 Sakura felt the tickling caress of little wavelets as she plowed

 through the gentle waters of the bay. Glancing at a wetly glistening

 Tomoyo, she was met with azure eyes that regarded her with

 affectionate trust. With her odd costumes and curious remarks, the

 dark-haired girl kindled a half-blush, half-heartache that thrilled

 and confused the Mistress of the Cards. But there was no confusion

 now, only a sunny glow that lit Sakura's entire being as she held the

 soft, supple presence of her friend so delightfully close. Gazing

 into the deep water, she was amazed by the strange, colorful fish

 darting about. With mild surprise she scanned the horizon, and

 realized the shore was lost to view. But it didn't seem to matter;

 nothing mattered but being here with Tomoyo. She closed her eyes and

 pulled through the water with slow, leisurely strokes. I could swim

 like this forever, she thought languidly. Her friend’s lustrously

 dark hair was streaming in the water as they swam, and the girl’s

 pale skin sparkled in the dazzling sunlight. Sakura felt a sweet,

 overwhelming longing for the delicate girl by her side, and hugged

 her tightly, entranced by her delightful nearness. Her gaze caught

 the horizon, the seam between sea and sky that sparkled in the far

 distance. Staring at that razor's edge where blue met blue, Sakura

 felt love as she never had before. Yet somehow these feelings had

 always been with her, ever since she had been a child too young to

 know that such love can be. Perplexed by this tangle of emotions, she

 turned to ask her friend to explain this puzzling contradiction. But

 Tomoyo was gone.

 

 Blinking in disbelief, Sakura circled in the water, expecting the

 girl to be bobbing on the shimmering surface nearby. But there was

 nothing, only sea and sky brilliantly lit by the tropical sun.

 Suddenly Sakura remembered, and her heart tightened and froze, "She

 can't swim". She thrashed in the water as panic swept her. But there

 was nothing save the disturbance of her wild swimming on the ocean’s

 placid film. Filling her lungs with air, Sakura dove deep into the

 water. The fish scattered as she swam, leaving her alone as she

 surged forward. The salty brine stung her eyes as she strained to

 see. But there was only water: empty, endless, and vast. Her lungs

 ached as each stroke pulled her deeper. The sea was now cold and dark

 as she left the dappled sunlight extinguished and plunged into a

 black nothingness. Completely disoriented, she lost all sense of

 direction and dimension. As the seconds swept by her heart, starved

 for oxygen, beat wildly out of control. Finally, her body panicked

 and sucked in lungfuls of burning seawater. The darkness spread from

 her vision to her mind as consciousness faded. When she died, the

 pain and panic gave way to a whispering sadness. Her final thoughts

 were of Tomoyo, and how she had failed to save her from drowning.   

 

 Sakura lurched out of bed as her lungs desperately gasped for air.

 Her heart hammered in her chest as she slowly came to, eyes

 discerning the dim outlines of her room in the pale starlight. With a

 hand held tightly to her breast, she remembered the dream that

 started so beautifully, and ended so horrifically. Still shaken, she

 slipped out of bed, opened the door, and stood in the hallway.

 Slumping to the floor, she pulled herself into a little ball and sat

 deep in thought. Part of her wanted to forget the awful dream. Surely

 it was nothing more than that; a night terror that dissipated with

 the coming of day. But Kero-chan once said that the dreams of a

 Cardcaptor were often prophetic, and thus important. The very idea

 that this dream held any glint of the future brought a shiver of

 fear. Sakura closed her eyes and forced herself to think. The dream

 had seemed so real. Worse than her own death was failing to save

 Tomoyo. Ever since that night in the garden, the pain in her best

 friend’s eyes had haunted Sakura. Somehow it seemed her fault that

 the dark-haired woman was suffering so. Never did the pale woman

 utter a single reproach, or even a plea for help. But those beautiful

 lavender eyes had betrayed her, and now Sakura knew that something

 was terribly wrong. Sakura also sensed that her friend was faithfully

 waiting for help.  Tomoyo's trust was touching, but it  frightened

 her. 

 

 Helping her friend wasn't a matter of capturing cards or fighting

 with magical forces. All that seemed simple compared to the problem

 of Tomoyo's heart. The person her friend loved she could not have,

 and despite efforts to conceal it, loneliness was a burden that bore

 heavily upon her. Tomoyo would not say who this special someone was,

 and Sakura felt a brief flash of anger. The least they could do is be

 aware of such a wonderful love, and to gently thank Tomoyo for it,

 even if they were unable to return her precious feelings. But then,

 what if they did know? Would that really help her, if they knew of

 her love but did not love her? Frustrated, Sakura rose and walked

 down the hall. She had to do something, anything. She had to help.

 But how? This was like fighting with shadows, dim outlines that she

 could barely perceive. In order to help, she needed to know. Sakura

 had to know who Tomoyo's special someone was. At this, she blushed

 and stopped pacing. Part of her asked mockingly, "And just why do you

 want to know? Are you jealous?" She shook her head, frustrated and

 disturbed by the confused feelings that gripped her. She knew she

 shouldn't feel bad that Tomoyo had her own true love. She knew in her

 heart that she desired Tomoyo’s happiness. But somehow, it hurt not

 to be that special someone. Tomoyo's affection was something she had

 grown up with, as much a part of her life as breathing. That this

 affection now caressed someone else was bittersweet, for while she

 was glad that love lit Tomoyo's gentle heart, it saddened her that

 she was not the one. This realization brought a new storm of

 frustration, and Sakura threw on a skirt and blouse, slipped on a

 pair of sandals, and walked out of the house. 

 

 The auburn-haired girl followed the road for a while, and then left

 it for the trail that led to the top of Victoria Peak. The air was

 cool on her face, and it felt good to walk the steep, snaking

 pathway. Through the trees she caught a glimpse of the city below,

 brightly lit and no doubt raucous even now in the early morning. She

 was glad the weekend was approaching, for she needed time. Surely

 this frustrating ignorance was worse than finally discovering who

 Tomoyo's love was. But part of her resisted, as if unwilling to know.

 In fact, part of her simply didn't want Tomoyo to be in love with

 someone else. This brought a blush, and a reprimand as Sakura scolded

 herself for such selfishness. But it was true, and she knew it. She

 had finally realized, during Tomoyo’s trip to Hong Kong, that she

 wanted Tomoyo's love for herself. To be the focus of Tomoyo's

 attention was an ecstasy beyond words. She remembered Tomoyo filming

 in the Matsukaya, remembered twirling and dancing for her friend's

 delight. This brought another blush, for those memories were

 intensely sweet and stirring. Sakura walked far along the pathway in

 this blissful state before her wandering mind returned to the task at

 hand. It occurred to her that her own feelings were part of the

 problem. They clouded her understanding, her ability to solve the

 riddle of Tomoyo's special someone. Until she first understood her

 own feelings, she would never understand Tomoyo’s. This was all so

 complicated, and made the capturing of the Cards seem almost easy.

 

 The Cards were really no more than puzzles to be solved. As time

 went by, she had grown to love them. But at first, they were things

 to be captured, a job to be done. Tomoyo wasn't like that at all.

 Sakura cared deeply for her, and ironically this made it more

 difficult to help. Had she loved the Cards then as she did now,

 capturing and binding them would have been more difficult. She was so

 tangled in her emotions for Tomoyo that she nearly felt overwhelmed.

 And overwhelmed people, as her brother once remarked, are not very

 useful. Somehow, she had to understand her own feelings for the girl

 before she could help her.

 

 Sakura suddenly realized she was nearly at the top of the peak. And

 there, just outside the heavy foliage flanking the trail, was the

 spot they had watched the moonrise together. Sakura walked on the

 soft grass, dew tickling her sandal-clad little feet. She sat down

 and gazed at the islands of the bay shrouded in the dark night. She

 stretched out on her back, hands behind her head, and stared up into

 the sky. The crescent moon was a tiny boat in a sea of stars, the

 vast emptiness illumined by thousands of brightly burning hearts.

 Sometimes she felt their power, her power, the power of the stars.

 When the Cards were all transformed, and Eriol’s final challenge

 overcome, she had never wondered what was next. Her love for Syaoran

 bloomed, thanks to the tender care of her friends. Sakura now

 realized that Tomoyo had helped her friend have a happy marriage that

 she would never have. That would be just like her, Sakura thought

 with a trace of sadness. She remembered the look in her eyes as they

 watched the parade of wedding dresses at the department store. "She

 must have felt that pain for a long time, but she hid it from me.

 Why? Why would she hide something like that? Because she didn't want

 me to feel bad. I was so happy to be married, and she didn't want to

 spoil my happiness with her feelings. I just ignored her all those

 years. It's like I didn't care at all."

 

 Sakura sat up, damp from the dew and fighting back tears. She stared

 at the hands folded on her lap and whispered miserably, "I'm so

 sorry, Tomoyo-chan. I didn't know. I should have, but I just didn't

 know". She clenched her fists angrily. That was no excuse then, and

 it was no excuse now. Tomoyo was suffering, and needed her. Somehow,

 she had to help. She had to find Tomoyo's special someone and tell

 them. At least then Tomoyo's love would be appreciated, even if this

 person could not be with her. But would this really be any

 consolation? Poor Tomoyo would love this person with all her heart,

 but she would have nobody to love her. It all seemed so wrong and

 unfair. Tomoyo's love was like nothing Sakura had ever experienced.

 Even as just a friend, the joy and bliss of being loved by this

 wonderful girl was staggering. Through the years Sakura had been

 unaware of how luminous Tomoyo’s love was. "Only when I moved to Hong

 Kong," she thought, "did I really know what it would mean to be away

 from her". She tried to explain this to Tomoyo when they danced the

 night before she left for Japan, but words failed her as surely as

 she had failed Tomoyo. She stumblingly groped for words because she

 herself did not fully understand. Even now, all she really knew was

 that she missed Tomoyo desperately and longed to be with her. And if

 she did not know her own feelings, how could she possibly hope to

 help Tomoyo? Sakura stood up and hugged herself as a chill breeze

 swept the grassy swale. The sky had turned a pale gray. Dawn.

 

 Sakura smiled, for if resolution would not absolve her of the hurt

 she had caused, it would at least set her guilt aside until she

 finished this important task. She would help Tomoyo, but to do so she

 must first know her own feelings. Until then, it would be impossible

 to find her way. Her feelings were inextricably bound with the

 beautiful dark-haired girl, but once they were unraveled she would

 see her way more clearly. But how could she know her own heart? She

 faced that riddle when Syaoran was leaving for Hong Kong. Then she

 was lucky, for friends told her what her heart desired. But now she

 was frighteningly alone, and did not know where to go for help. The

 one person she could trust ultimately was far away in Japan Besides,

 Sakura thought, even if she were at my side I couldn't ask her about

 this. The thought of the pale girl again at her side was a pleasant

 one, and brought back memories in a flood. Here they snuggled

 together, Tomoyo resting her head on Sakura’s shoulder while the moon

 sailed a velvet sky. Sakura longed to have those moments back, to

 live them again and again for all eternity. But sweet memories would

 not heal the hurts she had caused, and the Mistress of the Cards

 purged them from her mind. Clenching her fists, Sakura looked out at

 the dawn with determined eyes. Her voice was firm as she said out

 loud, 

 

 "I'll ask Dark-sama and Light-sama about my feelings. I'll make them

 tell me."

 

 And for the instant these words were uttered, she looked like what

 she truly was: the most powerful being on earth. And her countenance

 was terrible to behold.

 

 II.

 All through the day that followed that dawn, Sakura thought about

 the task ahead. At dinner Ieran-sama asked if she felt all right,

 "You are unusually quiet tonight, Sakura."

 

 Sakura looked slightly surprised and bowed, "I'm fine, Ieran-sama.

 Thank you for your concern." 

 

 Fanren chirped in with a giggly voice, "Quiet, hmm? Maybe you've

 been around Syaoran-chan too long. Next thing you'll be all dour and

 grumpy, too."

 

 Syaoran scowled and poked at his rice. But that only brought a fresh

 storm of teasing from Fanren, eager to see her little brother stalk

 off in a huff. Ieran-sama ended the game when she ordered the dishes

 cleared, and after helping to clean up Sakura worked on papers from

 school. After kissing Syaoran goodnight, she waited until the house

 was silent, and stole into the guest room. Or, as she now called it,

 Tomoyo’s room.

 

  She took the Cards from the drawer of the old colonial desk, and

 decided Shield would seal her off from the rest of the household.

 Looking at her skirt and blouse, she wished they were not quite so

 plain. Kero always said the Cards preferred a proper looking

 Mistress, and Tomoyo's creations had seemingly charmed and impressed

 them. Certainly Kero had approved, Sakura thought ruefully,

 especially when he got to share in the sartorial splendor. Well, what

 she now wore would have to do. She pulled the chain around her neck

 from her blouse and spoke the chant of power. In a blinding flash

 Shield came to life, barring the doors and windows with golden

 chains. Holding her staff in one hand, Sakura picked up The Dark and

 The Light and flicked them into the air. With a twirl and a flourish

 she awakened them amid a gale of shadow and blaze. They stood before

 her shimmering with power, beautiful and majestic. Instinctively she

 bowed, and they returned her bow with graceful solemnity. Light

 smiled cheerfully and spoke while Dark waited pensively, 

 

 “Konbanwa, Sakura-chan. How are you this lovely evening”? Despite

 her earnestness, Sakura smiled in sheer delight. The beauty of the

 two was always such a joy to behold. They stood together,

 affectionately holding hands, long, lustrous hair floating as if they

 were underwater. They were a perfect contrast, yet a perfect pair,

 and Sakura’s heart ached to see them together. She was always careful

 to place the two cards next to one another, for which Light had

 laughingly thanked her, but said it was unnecessary, “We have always

 been together, and ever shall be.” But Sakura now tried to look

 serious, for she knew the two could be cryptic, playfully hiding the

 knowledge she desired. In a commanding voice, edged with the power of

 the Mistress of the Cards, Sakura spoke,

 

 “Thank you, Light-sama. I am well. But there is something I need

 from you.”

 

 The response was so different from the young woman’s normal tone

 that Light-sama was taken aback and did not reply. Dark-sama spoke in

 a voice like rustlings in the shadows, “Speak, Mistress, for all we

 have is yours to ask for”. 

 

 Uncomfortable with such a formal reply, Sakura shifted her stance.

 She was never like this with the Cards, and it all seemed very out of

 place. But she had to find out for Tomoyo’s sake, so again she spoke

 up firmly, “I need to know my feelings for Tomoyo-chan”.

 

 Sakura thought she detected the briefest hint of a smile on Dark-

 sama’s normally impassive face. But it was Light-sama that answered

 back in a ringing, almost angry, challenge,  “We cannot do what you

 ask”.

 

 Sakura looked down at the floor, wishing she had one of Tomoyo’s

 impressive costumes to make her feel more imperious than she felt.

 Suddenly a flash of anger energized her, and in a stern voice that

 shook the room she shot back, “I can command you to answer”.

 

 Light-sama looked surprised, and a nearly imperceptible trace of

 fear darkened the light that glowed all around her. She quickly

 recovered, fixing Sakura with a haughty stare. She began to reply,

 but Dark-sama gently touched her shoulder, calming her at a glance

 with dark, gentle eyes. The shadowy figure then turned to Sakura and

 stepped forward. She knelt down and bowed low, forehead touching the

 floor, black hair forming a darkly radiant pool on the floor. Her

 feathery voice was mild and meek,

 

 “It is your right as Mistress of the Cards. You may command us, if

 that is truly your wish.”

 

 Sakura’s heart sank. It felt so awful, as if she were forcing them

 to do her bidding like servants, or even slaves. She knew that was

 how Clow Reed had dealt with them; even Yue and Kereberous never

 dared address him as other than “Master”. But Sakura loved her Cards,

 not as their Master but as their friend, and it hurt her to see Dark-

 sama bowing like this. Trembling, she realized she could never force

 them against their will, even if she did have the right. Her

 shoulders slumped and she lowered the staff, defeated by the gentle

 submission of Dark-sama. Verging on tears she answered haltingly,

 “Gomenesai, Dark-sama, Light-sama. I don’t want to be like that with

 you. I can’t.” She looked up, her emerald eyes wet with tears. Light-

 sama again stared in surprise, but this time with pity, not defiance.

 Dark-sama smiled as she rose gracefully from her bow, then leaned

 over and placed her hands on the woman’s shoulders. Her tranquil

 voice was melodious and calming,

 

 “That is why the Cards love you so, Sakura-chan. We would do

 anything for you, because you do not command us. But we cannot tell

 you your feelings for Tomoyo. We cannot tell you, because only you

 can know what is in your heart.”

 

 Sakura again remembered agonizing over Syaoran’s departure to Hong

 Kong. How would she have known what was in her own heart if her

 friends had not helped her, nudged her, and all but told her that

 Syaoran was her true love? As if reading her thoughts, Light-sama

 spoke up brightly, 

 

 “Others cannot know such things, and though they mean to help they

 bring confusion, not light. Sakura-chan, you have never really known

 your own heart, or these feelings would not be a mystery to you.  You

 must do this yourself if you would know the truth”.

 

 Sakura looked hesitant and uncertain. She was confident in many

 things, but not this. Not knowing her own feelings. They had always

 been baffling, an emotional web that frustrated and bound her. She

 had been so thankful when everyone had helped her before. But if this

 was something she must do alone, then she would try her hardest. For

 Tomoyo’s sake she could not fail. Sakura felt a surge of strength

 that steeled her determination. She bowed low to the wise and

 beautiful women. Her smile was bright and confident as she spoke with

 an enthusiastic but steady voice, “Thank you so very much, Dark-sama

 and Light-sama. I promise I will try my best.”

 

 

 The two women shimmered before her, smiles filling her with peace

 and strength. She resisted the urge to hug them, and instead bowed

 again and returned Shield to its card form. As Sakura turned to go,

 Light-sama approached her. Breathless, she saw the glowing figure

 lean over her, golden hair waving in the air like seaweed in an ocean

 swell. She met Sakura’s forehead with a tender kiss and the words,

 “To help light your way, Mistress”. Sakura felt a surge of warmth and

 hope, and smiled radiantly as she bowed her thanks. With that the

 young woman was gone, leaving Dark and Light to linger awhile,

 content in the eloquent silence of each other’s company.

 

 III.

 Sakura stirred her coffee with absent-minded detachment. The quaint

 little café overlooked the Bay, offering a scenic vista of ferryboats

 and seagulls. But Sakura’s attention was far away, in another time

 and place altogether. She had wandered the landscape of childhood all

 day long, and like an explorer returning home came bearing strange

 and exotic memories. She realized now that her time as a child had

 been like the nursery-rhyme song so dimly remembered: “Merrily,

 merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream”. It was as if she had

 dreamt away her years in Tomoeda, and now awakened to the marvels

 that filled her pleasant slumber. 

 

 Above all else was the extraordinary love of her best friend,

 Tomoyo. This love had been sweetly present all through her life. As

 she meandered through memory she saw it in places unsuspected and

 unlooked for. Love was there in all the girl did and all that she

 was. Love was sewn into the elaborate costumes Sakura had worn in

 capturing the Cards. At the time, their excess of kawaii had caused

 the Cardcaptor no end of embarrassment. Yet Tomoyo sewed them with

 meticulous care, and if they were playful and carefree, they also

 marked Sakura in a singular way as the new Cardcaptor. But most of

 all they reflected the glowing love that Tomoyo held for her. The

 girl was ecstatic when her friend wore them, and that crazy, innocent

 delight was something Sakura painfully missed. No longer embarrassed,

 she longed once again be the focus of the rapturous love. 

 

 Tomoyo’s love embraced her in a comforting cocoon of blissful

 contentment, yet it also tossed her into the sky, deliriously free to

 soar beyond limits she would never have dared on her own. Tomoyo’s

 love was vast and deep, a mysterious ocean that gently rocked and

 swayed Sakura’s heart. Tomoyo gave her strength and hope, help and

 solace, and the delightful charm of her shinning presence. “And what

 did I give her?” Sakura thought in a  hot flash of shame. “I took all

 my problems to her, and she helped me every time. But I didn’t help

 her. I didn’t even know about her special love. She did so much for

 me, and I never even let her know. I didn’t even know myself.” This

 last thought seemed particularly bitter. 

 

 Sakura realized that Tomoyo had paid a dear price for her friend’s

 denseness. “She supported me, and I ignored her. I took her for

 granted, like she would always be there, just for me. How could I

 have been so selfish?” So powerful and ever-present was Tomoyo’s love

 that Sakura simply grew used to it. It pained her to think so, but it

 could not be denied. Like air and water, Tomoyo’s love was something

 Sakura needed, and unconsciously came to expect. She had taken her

 marvelous friend for granted. She knew this now because Tomoyo was

 far away, and that love and affection were no longer a part of

 Sakura’s daily life. This knowledge made the memories of her time in

 school with Syaoran especially hard to face. When Syaoran returned

 from Hong Kong, she had flown to his arms, losing herself in the

 Chinese magician.  Enamored by his stoic strength and charmed by his

 stingily given attentions, she had been oblivious to all else. She

 remembered the time they sat in swings at the park while she spoke

 about her feelings for Yukito. She was deeply moved as he silently

 listened to her, but now she wondered if his silence was more a lack

 of interest than concern.  But how many times had Tomoyo listened to

 her problems and worries, really listened with all her heart and

 spirit? She was always there, sympathetic and caring, listening to

 confessions and sobs until dawn chased the stars away. Even now it

 was Tomoyo she went to with all of her problems, as well as her

 delights and joys. But Sakura had hardly given Tomoyo’s fragile heart

 a second thought. She always assumed the girl was happy, for the dark-

 haired girl never spoke of the pain and hurt that Sakura had seen so

 recently in her eyes. 

 

 Was this pain new?  Had her friend sailed blithely through childhood

 without worry or care? It was comforting to think, but Sakura sensed

 it was not so. No, Tomoyo must have had some sadness and

 disappointment throughout the years they were together. But she had

 never said a word, and Sakura had never asked. She kept whatever

 troubled her to herself, but why? The answer, Sakura thought as she

 sipped her cold coffee, was stark and obvious: for me.

 

 Not only was Tomoyo always there for her, but she carefully kept her

 own problems from Sakura as well. The toll these years of sacrifice

 must have cost her friend seemed staggering. On the brink of tears,

 Sakura thought to herself, “She was always there for me, and happy

 for me, and silent for me. And I never even knew”. Hurriedly leaving

 money on the table, she began headed into the center of the busy

 city. Walking usually eased her heart, but not today. She thought of

 those last years in High School where her world revolved around

 Syaoran. Sometimes he was all she could think about. When he was in

 Japan they were always together, and when he was absent she talked

 and thought and dreamed about him, and little else. Never did she ask

 about Tomoyo’s crushes, or dates, or cherished hopes. There weren’t

 any, of course; only a hopeless love from afar that left her lonely,

 a shattered heart her only confidante. Ever since Tomoyo explained

 the reason for not buying a teddy bear for her special someone,

 Sakura had assumed her odd friend was content with unrequited love.

 She thought of her reply at the time, “I know Tomoyo’s special person

 must be very happy”. Now it sounded shallow and ridiculous, and the

 memory of her remark made her physically ill.

 

 “Baka.” Sakura felt a rare anger welling up inside, an anger that

 accused her of a cruel disregard, “It’s a wonder she can stand to be

 around me.” Yet this was one of the many miracles of her dearest

 friend. Never once, in any way, did Tomoyo betray a trace of anger or

 reproach. Not a word, or a gesture, or a sign did she give of the

 wrong that Sakura had done her through a carefree and foolish

 neglect. She hid her pain, and all those years Sakura did not see.

 But what she did see, despite the hurt done her, was Tomoyo’s

 astonishing love. That was no mask. Her love had sweetly shaken

 Sakura’s heart, and was as real as the warmth of the sun. With Tomoyo

 gone that love was now distant, and for four months Sakura felt the

 ache of loneliness. Slowly she realized what it meant when that love

 was absent from her everyday life. Sakura felt on the edge of

 collapse before Tomoyo came to Hong Kong, and it was this finally

 opened her eyes to what the dark-haired woman meant to her. But poor

 Tomoyo had endured years of such desolation, alone, without even the

 hope of being with her true love. “She should hate me,” Sakura

 thought as she sobbed, “but she still loves me.” Oblivious to the

 curious stares and embarrassed glances from people passing buy,

 Sakura cried her way to the bus stop that would take her to Silver

 Strand Beach.

 

 When the bus boarded the ferry, Sakura stepped out and stood on the

 bow of the little boat chuffing over the water. The sea breeze eased

 her distress, and the salt spray cleansed and refreshed her. Gulls

 circled and dipped in the late morning sun, greedy for scraps and

 tidbits from the tiny humans below. They set up a noisy chorus when a

 young boy and his mother hurled pieces of sandwich high into the air.

 As the birds pirouted and swooped, snatching the bread in mid-flight,

 Sakura remembered flying, remembered the dizzy, dancing joy of

 cleaving the air with magical wings. In the air you were free, but

 that was a different sort of freedom than what she embraced in Hong

 Kong.  Here she had her new life, free from the family and friends of

 her old life. She was free, but miserable. Now, far away from

 Tomoyo’s affection, she felt a leaden burden that weighed heavier

 upon her with each passing day. Worse, by flying away to a life with

 the man she loved, she forgot her obligations to her dearest friend.

 Sakura remembered a tearful confession in one of her letters, an

 apology for not knowing sooner how hard it was for Tomoyo to be

 without her true love. The woman replied in soothing tones; you

 didn’t now, it’s all right. But she should have known, and it wasn’t

 all right at all. Unaware of Tomoyo’s needs, Sakura had proven a

 selfish and insensitive friend. She burned with shame at the very

 thought of her neglect But all this would change, and it would change

 now. She would discover Tomoyo’s special person, and talk to them.

 She would tell them of Tomoyo’s precious feelings. And then, she

 thought excitedly as she again boarded the bus, Tomoyo would have her

 happy ending. Unless, of course, that special person did not love

 Tomoyo. What then?

 

 Sakura slumped in her seat as the bus left the ferry and wound it’s

 way up the east coast to the beach. What if this mysterious person

 did not share Tomoyo’s feelings, or was already with someone else?

 Tomoyo had said as much in her letters, pleading with Sakura to let

 things be. Sakura’s hesitation was brief. Her resolution to make up

 for past failings drove her forward with staunch determination. She

 would help heal the sadness reflected in Tomoyo’s hauntingly

 beautiful eyes. There would never be any chance for Tomoyo if this

 true love never knew her feelings. And if they did not love her? This

 seemed inconceiveable, so Sakura decided to worry about it if it

 happened. It felt good, finally knowing what to do. Her mind made up,

 Sakura sensed something like contentment as she turned to the

 difficult question that had to be answered before she could begin:

 just what were her feelings for Tomoyo? 

 

 When the bus let off the passengers at the beach, Sakura was

 relieved to see that there were relatively few people enjoying the

 water. She had a towel to lay on, but no swimsuit. She simply wanted

 to be here, where they had shared part of an all too brief day

 together. Slipping off her sandals, Sakura felt the hot sand beneath

 her bare feet. Walking to the water’s edge, she traced the line

 between sea and shore, warm water tickling her feet, delightedly

 digging her toe into the dark, wet sand. Finally, she found a spot

 and laid out the colorful towel, then sat and watched the other

 beachgoers. A boy run up to the oncoming waves, squeeled, and then

 run back laughing to his mother. The sun was bright and reflected off

 the water with a glare, so Sakura closed her eyes and began to try

 and understand her feelings for Tomoyo.

 

 Tomoyo was her best friend, and had been ever since the gift of a

 little eraser in third grade. Sakura remembered that first day in

 class surprisingly well. Daidouji Tomoyo had been introduced as a

 transfer student, bowing shyly as all eyes in the class appraised

 her. She was given the seat next to Sakura, and as the new girl

 unpacked her books, the brunette gazed at her in wonder. Dressed in a

 brand new uniform, lustrous lavender hair covering her back and

 shoulders, she was the prettiest girl Sakura had ever seen. When the

 Daidouji girl glanced her way, the genki girl flashed a radiant

 smile. This brought a crimson blush that graced the new girl’s

 strikingly pale skin. Later in the day she saw a distressed Tomoyo

 frantically looking in her book bag. Sakura cheerfully gave her an

 eraser to correct her mistake, a gift the girl accepted with surprise

 and delight. Later they sat together for lunch, talking about family

 and food and all the little things so important to children. Sakura

 liked her from the very first, and they quickly became best friends.

 They were inseparable, sharing moments and memories while the years

 passed by like a slow, melodious song. 

 

 

 Everything a best friend should be the pale, kindly girl had been.

 She was kind and caring, always there with love and support. Sakura

 now wondered if she could ever have gone through the trials of

 childhood and adolescence without her. All through the capturing of

 the Cards, their transformation, and the final battle with Eriol,

 Tomoyo had been by her side. The dark-haired girl filled her with a

 confidence she often lacked, and made it possible to meet challenges

 that would otherwise have been overwhelming. Tomoyo meant a shoulder

 to cry on, a reassuring hug, and words of sympathy and solace. She

 adored her friend, and Sakura basked in that glowing adoration. It

 was odd to think of it like this, but it was almost as if she were

 Tomoyo’s special someone. Tomoyo affection for her best friend made

 Sakura feel unique, exceptional, and loved. In turn, she loved Tomoyo

 as her best friend. There was a quiet contentment in her presence.

 Sometimes they would just sit together, watching a sunset, or leaves

 blown in the wind. There was no need for words. Their friendship

 found comfort in the intimate silence they shared. Just to be with

 her made Sakura’s heart glad. Sakura carried the knowledge that

 Tomoyo would always be there for her. She could always rely on Tomoyo

 her help, advice, and insight. Sakura passed through childhood

 virtually free of fear or anxiety, save for ghosts, of course, There

 was no place for fear with Tomoyo as her friend.

 

 Sakura opened her eyes and squinted against the brilliant sunlight.

 She scanned the horizon and saw a small fleet of junks bobbing in the

 water, nets hauling in a sparkling catch of fish that glittered like

 silver. She loved to eat fish, but was happy not to have to catch

 them. The thought of the poor things thrashing helplessly about as

 they were hauled out of the water reminded her of last night’s dream,

 and she shivered despite the heat. Like the fish, this is how she

 felt living in Hong Kong: stunned, disoriented, and desperate.

 Struggling to cope with this distress, she slowly discerned its

 cause. It was because she missed Tomoyo. She missed the constant,

 sparkling presence of the tender girl in far-away Tomoeda. Slowly

 Sakura began to fathom the depths of her feelings for her best

 friend. She had always liked her, more than any of her other many

 friends. But it was more than just liking her that she felt. It was

 love. Sakura knew she was terribly dense about human feelings. It was

 so very hard to understand her emotions, let alone those of others.

 This ignorance caused pain and embarrassment, and even now was the

 reason for her curious odyssey. Being away from Tomoyo had thrown her

 into an emotional storm, yet all the agony it caused her eyes were

 finally opened. She missed Tomoyo so terribly because she loved her. 

 

 Of course, She missed her other friends, like Naoko, and Chisato,

 and Rika. But not like this, not like Tomoyo. Being away from the

 azure-eyed girl left her lonely and frantic, teetering on a despair

 that should have had no place in her happy married life. So powerful

 were her feelings that it no longer made sense to think she simply

 “liked” her best friend. She experienced emotions somewhat like this

 with Syaoran and Yukito, but nowhere near as deep and intense. In the

 time away from Tomoyo, she finally came to understand that she loved

 her best friend. But just what did this love mean? At first, she

 decided it was the love of friendship. She remembered a moving story

 of the ancient Greeks.  It told of a man condemned to death, but

 given his freedom to attend a sister’s wedding on the condition that

 should he fail to return at the appointed time, his best friend would

 die in his place. The man fought through incredible hazards and

 hardships, but in the end returned and faced death for the love of

 his friend. Sakura cried when she read this tale, and for the first

 time understood that love bound friends as surely as it did lovers.

 She even wrote about this in a letter to Tomoyo, asking if someone

 could be more than a best friend, could be a  “special friend”. But

 listening now to waves crashing on the beach, and random cries of

 children playing, Sakura knew the love she bore Tomoyo lay beyond the

 bounds of friendship.

 

 

 She heard the playful screech of a little girl who was tagged, and

 now ran after her former persuer to make them “it”. The sun was

 lowering towards the western horizon, bathing the hills of the New

 Territories in a fiery orange glow. She suddenly realized she had

 forgotten to put suntan lotion on her face and arms. Gingerly the

 young woman touched her skin, hoping the burn would not be too

 severe. This triggered memories of Tomoyo stretched out on the towel,

 Sakura rubbing the cool lotion into her creamy, alabaster skin. The

 woman on the beach caught her breath and felt a crimson flush spread

 over her neck and cheeks. Shaking her head, she tried to focus on the

 question of just how she loved Tomoyo. There was an intimacy between

 the two, more like sisters than best friends. Sakura recalled

 frantically phoning Tomoyo late one night when she was barely

 thirteen.  Suspended between mortified embarrassment and utter

 terror, she was sure she had been stricken with some dread disease,

 but could not bring herself to ask her brother or father for help.

 Only Tomoyo would do. After calming the panicky girl with her soft,

 melodious voice, Tomoyo spoke with her mother and quickly returned a

 diagnosis was as old as girls and women themselves. In minutes Tomoyo

 arrived at the Kinomoto residence to comfort and be with her friend.

 Of all the people Sakura had ever known, there was no one she felt

 safer with in sharing her most private thoughts and secrets. There

 was that special trust of family between them, though without the

 irritation she so often felt with her brother. The bond between the

 two girls felt deep and ancient, as indeed it was.

 

 Sakura wondered sometimes about the blood ties between them. Their

 Mothers had been cousins, and grew up together in cherished intimacy.

 It seemed that Sonomi had loved Nadeshiko, and the two were

 inseparable until Fujitaka came between them. It was funny that their

 mothers had been so close, just like their daughters. But Marriage

 tore them apart, and Sakura now grieved for Sonomi. She was sad, and

 even a bit guilty, for if Nadeshiko had blossomed in her marriage,

 Sonomi had never quite recovered from her lost love. Tomoyo hinted in

 a letter that Sonomi was a bit like Sakura’s sensei friend, and this

 comparison cut like a razor. She had seen Jun-sama’s suffering first

 hand, and the thought that the kind and beautiful Sonomi shared this

 pain was unbearable. 

 

 Yet as Tomoyo had once laughingly observed, things were curiously

 mixed up. While the daughters were, like their mothers, somehow

 connected, it was as if Sakura and Tomoyo had been switched at birth.

 Each looked and acted much like the other’s mother. Like Sonomi,

 Sakura was athletic, hot-tempered, and determined to succeed in all

 she did. Tomoyo, like Nadeshiko, was quiet, quirky, and brimming with

 love. In an odd way, physical and psychological aspects of the

 Amamiya cousins had been blended together in their children. But no

 matter how she considered her relationship to Tomoyo, Sakura realized

 there was a deeper connection between them than mere friendship.

 Although unaware of each other for eight years, the two girls fell

 instantly fell together like long lost siblings. For Sakura, Tomoyo

 felt like a lost part of her very being. This special affinity for

 the dark-haired girl had almost sisterly quality to it. Yet there was

 still more to their relationship than that. Even if they had been

 sisters, how to explain that awful parting at the airport?

 

 As Tomoyo boarded her plane, Sakura was swept by a despair she never

 thought possible. It dredged up horrific memories from long ago,

 memories the shattered woman did not even know existed. When Tomoyo

 left, it was as if her Mother had died all over again. But this time,

 Sakura did not see with the eyes of an innocent three year old, a

 child who could be told that mommy was in a beautiful place in the

 sky. This time, she knew Tomoyo was gone, and could not shake the

 irrational fear that they might never be together again. Her mother’s

 early death did not seem to affect her much in large part because of

 Fujitaka. Her father devoted his life to filling the gaping hole left

 by the tragic absence of Nadeshiko. Sakura sometimes heard tales of

 other fathers from her friends in school. Many fathers were often

 absent , seemingly indifferent to their own families. They spent long

 hours at grinding jobs, and were too exhausted to take part in family

 affairs when they did return. Busy with overtime and obligatory

 drinking bouts with the boys, these were the fathers that forgot

 birthdays and teacher’s names, who never went to school plays, fairs

 or parent’s days. Their sole purpose of winning the bread left little

 time to enjoy it. Sometimes Sakura wondered if this was the sort of

 father her own husband would prove to be, and this troubled her

 greatly. Her father was so very different from all the others. He was

 gentle, encouraging, and loved with a mother’s unconditional love. He

 had mastered the domestic arts that ironically escaped Nadeshiko

 herself: cooking, cleaning, sewing, and the myriad little details

 that make a household run properly. But for all his dedicated effort,

 the loss of a mother might still have affected Sakura more had it not

 been for Tomoyo.      

 

 Growing up, Sakura loved Tomoyo as the mother she never had. The

 very fact she looked like the pictures of Nadeshiko may have

 reinforced the girl’s imperceptible feelings. The Daidouji girl’s

 nature was very much as Fujitaka had described his wife: sweet,

 gentle, placid, and loving. He once remarked that in all their years

 together, he had never seen even a trace of anger on her luminous

 face. Tomoyo was exactly the same: ever smiling, kind, and caring.

 With maternal affection, Tomoyo had nurtured Sakura through the

 trials of childhood and adolescence. She was there to ease the hurts

 and soothe the pains of growing up. She encouraged the first,

 tentative steps towards love with Yukito-san and Li-kun. Sakura often

 found herself crying in the arms of Tomoyo, who hugged her back with

 in a motherly embrace. In the arms of its mother, a child always

 feels that everything will be all right. Even as they whirled

 together on the dance floor, when Sakura burst into tears at the

 harrowing prospect of Tomoyo’s imminent return to Japan, the dark-

 haired woman enfolded her in her arms and brought soothing

 reassurance with nothing more than her gentle presence. Yukito might

 have said this parental affection was the key to Sakura’s love for

 Tomoyo, as it had been for him. Years ago, he told Sakura she loved

 him because he was like her beloved father. She agreed, but not

 because she believed he was right. She knew her that Touya loved him,

 so she said yes, and stepped aside. But if her feelings for Yukito

 were not quite true love, they were still more than a schoolgirl

 crush. It was painful to let the gentle boy go, but she did. And

 Sakura now knew that her love for Tomoyo was no more easily explained

 this way than her feelings for Yukito. She had loved Yukito more than

 a father figure, and loved Tomoyo more than the mother she never

 knew. The kiss in the garden had shattered that explanation for

 Sakura’s love. For all her maternal kindness, Tomoyo stirred up

 passionate feelings in Sakura that no daughter ever had for her

 mother.   

 

 

 Watching a slender, gorgeous, woman preparing to leave the beach

 reminded Sakura of Tomoyo slipping out of her white sundress. This

 memory summoned a fiery longing that gripped her heart, and the

 feverish desire that haunted her recent dreams. She trembled in

 remembrance of braiding the long, lavender tresses, the silken feel

 of pale skin, the sweet, flowery scent that wafted like a heavenly

 little cloud. Tomoyo’s visit awakened a sensuous craving for this

 achingly beautiful woman, a desire that previously hovered only on

 the rim of Sakura’s awareness. Tomoyo always seemed to her the

 prettiest of girls. There was a delicate loveliness about her that

 Sakura found irresistible. As childhood passed into adolescence, her

 feelings changed with her body, imperceptibly at first, but in the

 end irrevocably. So captivated by Syaoran was she that this change in

 her feelings almost went unnoticed. Only little hints were left, odd

 moments that puzzled her when they happened, and were quickly

 forgotten as meaningless puzzles. But now, in the grip of memory,

 these puzzles seemed more like keys to resolving the sweet confusion

 that played havoc with her heart.

 

  Most vivid was a memory from the 8th grade, in a gym class where

 Tomoyo gamely struggled with a difficult floor exercise. The other

 students left for home, but Sakura stayed to help her friend master

 the complicated pattern. She spotted for Tomoyo, holding her closely,

 guiding her with a sure, firm touch. Slowly at first, the dark-haired

 girl caught the rhythm of the movements, and her natural grace and

 charm moved Sakura’s heart. For some reason her very nearness

 flustered Sakura, distracting her from the lesson she was trying to

 impart. Sakura blushed fiercely while Tomoyo, still as a fawn,

 daintily arched her supple body and gazed up with trusting eyes.

 Breathing raggedly, Sakura stood by her, their faces nearly touching,

 utterly enraptured by the wan beauty of the delicate girl. From

 nowhere she felt a mad desire to embrace her, caress her, and shower

 her with kisses. The brunette leaned closer, heart hammering as their

 lips nearly touched. Suddenly she blushed crimson and pulled quickly

 away. Tomoyo seemed pleasantly baffled, and then worried as her

 friend turned her back and trembled. Sakura stammered out something

 about a pulled muscle, and struggled to calm her racing heart. Had

 Tomoyo come to her then, with a kindly touch or a concerned hug,

 Sakura was unsure just what might have happened. But the odd little

 whirlwind passed quickly, and Tomoyo returned to being just a best

 friend. Yet this was not the only time that some unseen passion had

 seized Sakura’s heart. Tomoyo’s presence had sometimes captivated and

 enthralled her in ways she could not fathom. Confused, even

 frightened, part of Sakura had succeeded in forgetting these strange,

 overpowering little moments. But delving into the depths of her

 feelings, Sakura found that these hidden memories now came flooding

 back. And these feelings she remembered were the identical to those

 in the garden, where she was swept away by an overwhelming love for

 Tomoyo. 

 

 

 Sakura stood up and stretched, drained but oddly exhilarated. As day

 gave way to night, she gathered her things and walked to board the

 approaching bus. She was tantalizingly close now, sensing a

 revelation that would make her feelings clear at last. Though she

 appeared charmingly normal at first glance, the genki young woman was

 unusual in many ways, not least in her utter honesty. Most people shy

 away from such  ruthless examinations of their inner feelings. As the

 saying goes, they prefer not to stir muddy waters and cause

 difficulties. Or, they cling to comfortable illusions, rejecting

 thorny and painful realities. As Fanren observed, Sakura was in many

 ways a simple girl. She wanted to know what was true, and could not

 abide to live a life that was false. Her desire to know had

 inexorably driven her to gather the Cards, and then transform them.

 In doing so she jeopardized not only her life, but also those most

 precious to her. Now she was on a journey to know her true feelings

 for Tomoyo, and after that the identity of her best friend’s true

 love. Where this journey led, or how it was resolved, did not concern

 her at all. Indeed, she was frighteningly innocent of the havoc and

 pain such discoveries might unleash. But had she known, she would

 have plunged forward regardless, for her determination to understand

 was implacable. After a long ride over the ferry and into the City,

 she boarded the last electric tram up Victoria Peak. When she exited

 the tram and began walking, the exhausted little P.E. teacher caught

 a second wind, and raced up the hill to the mansion. Preparing for

 bed in her room, Ieran-sama saw her daughter-in-law dashing into the

 house, and wondered what she was doing out running at such an hour. 

 

 Tip-toeing into her room, Sakura retrieved the Cards from their

 resting place. For a moment she stood over the sleeping Syaoran,

 smiling. Then she slipped away, latched the door, and walked down the

 hall to Tomoyo's room. She sat on a chair by the window and gazed at

 the garden, dark and silent in the still of night. What happened in

 that garden changed everything forever. Never had her love for Tomoyo

 felt so strong and all-encompassing. Never had she felt so

 deliriously close to another human being. Oddly, it all started with

 Tomoyo's wrenching pain. Sakura had seen little slivers of her secret

 hurt before, in letters and during the trip to the Matsukaya. But

 sitting in the garden, Tomoyo was unwilling or unable to conceal the

 torment of life without her special someone. She broke down, sobbing

 in Sakura's arms. Sakura's heart was riven as she hugged her tightly,

 wishing with all her power that Tomoyo would be all right.

 Miraculously, she was. While embraced by Sakura, the pale girl seemed

 healed of her terrible hurt. In this blinding moment Sakura realized

 the agony of loneliness that her best friend lived with everyday. But

 the Mistress of the Cards also saw that in her arms, Tomoyo's pain

 was assuaged. She said that with Sakura she was happy, and the full

 truth of this at last opened her emerald eyes. Here was yet another

 revelation, for Tomoyo needed her as surely as she needed Tomoyo. She

 longed to hold and comfort her pale friend, to take away the pain

 forever. If indeed she had such power, Sakura vowed now to use it,

 regardless of cost or consequence. 

 

 That night in the garden, Sakura and Tomoyo were like two castaways

 washed up on a foreign shore, gazing on a world and each other made

 marvelous and new. It was as if Sakura saw Tomoyo, the girl she grew

 up with, for the very first time: fragile, vulnerable, and

 breathtakingly beautiful. When that enchanting woman came so

 enticingly close, a surge of desire swept Sakura’s body and shook her

 heart. In that magical kiss, two souls met for the very first time.

 Sakura touched her cheek as a sweet warmth enfolded her. The memory

 of that kiss lingered still, echoing in her heart, tingling through

 every cell of her body. She loved Tomoyo as a friend, a sister, and a

 mother. But after they kissed, she knew her love was unimaginably

 vast and unbounded, a door to infinite space, a precipice on the edge

 of forever. If she had hesitated to step over that awesome threshold,

 it was only because the luscious shock of that kiss had left her

 utterly enchanted. 

 

 But now, following her road to the very end, she was awakening. The

 meaning of her love for Tomoyo was finally clear. Sitting quietly in

 the shimmering night, a gentle rain of tears falling on her folded

 hands, Sakura at last understood her feelings. Perhaps deep within a

 part of her had suspected or known, all along. But now the splendid

 truth resounded throughout her entire being. Sakura could sing, or

 cry, or shout this truth, but her steady heartbeat bore a more

 eloquent testimony. In her heart nestled a precious knowledge, a

 knowledge gained through pain, joy, and time. And what her heart knew

 would change her forever.

 

 Daidouji Tomoyo was her one, True Love.