Dear Sakura

 by Amazoness Duo and G.P.

 amazonessduo@hotmail.com

 pearsong1954@yahoo.com

 

 

 	Life is a mixture of good and bad. Delightfully joyous

 circumstances plagued by the most exquisite pain. Biting cold and

 burning heart. In some ways, the very talons of sorrow and defeat

 were what made joy taste all the sweeter to the lips, a fruit that

 one was lucky to find but was gone all too quickly. While in the

 shadows, waiting and lurking was the despair, eager to reclaim its

 prize once delight and happiness had all but faded. Happiness was an

 escape that faded all too quickly in the dim lights that filled one’s

 life. That was not to say that they were any less spectacular. It

 served to make them even more treasured in the hearts of those who

 knew how rare such things really were. How cherished they should be

 for simply being there. The sweetest joys were often tinged with the

 bittersweet aftertaste of sadness. And through it all, life continued

 it’s inexhaustible march forward. As a lone toy designer waited

 patiently for the giant metal beast she was riding to make its way

 back to Japan, her thoughts were filled with musings on her own

 recent joy and pain.

 	 Tomoyo found herself staring into the eyes of the teddy bear that

 Sakura had made her. It was beautiful, if a little messy. But that

 was something the dark haired woman loved about it. It was obviously

 Sakura’s doing. She remembered one time when Sakura had made a yukata

 for Syaoran. She had spent so long working on it, despite her

 difficulty with sewing. And even if it hadn’t been the best looking

 yukata, it had been crafted carefully and delicately with Sakura’s

 warm and loving heart. Tomoyo understood this all too well. After

 all, every costume she made and all of the outfits she would sew for

 the brunette came from the bottom of her heart. The level of one’s

 skill with thread and needle didn’t matter; it was what lay in one’s

 heart while creating that truly brought out the beauty within. And

 Tomoyo saw that reflecting back at her through the violet eyes of the

 teddy bear she was holding. The bear was pink and white with a large

 purple bow. It was stained with Tomoyo’s tears as she had held it

 tightly to her, Sakura’s scent still clinging stubbornly to it. 

 	Turning the bear over in her hands, the pale heiress ran her

 fingers over a small dark patch that she had identified as some of

 Sakura’s blood. She knew very well that Sakura had difficulty with

 such tasks and the bandages on her fingers had been testament to

 this. The thought of Sakura pricking herself while making the bear

 was both sad and heartwarming at the same time. Knowing that Sakura

 was in pain, physical or emotional, had always hurt Tomoyo infinitely

 more than her own pain. Seeing Sakura hurting and knowing that she

 was helpless to stop it dug into her heart. She would give anything

 to take all of the brunette’s pain for herself, to suffer with all of

 it if only it meant that Sakura would no longer feel it’s heavy

 burden. But knowing that despite hurting herself, Sakura had

 continued to pour her genki heart out into the teddy bear almost left

 Tomoyo breathless. Surely she wasn’t worthy of such shining devotion.

 It made the bear in her arms a truly wonderful gift, one that came

 from the deep spring of love that Tomoyo had nearly tumbled into

 during her visit. And just like in real water, she couldn’t swim in

 it. She had found herself floundering, awash in the waves of

 confusion that kept pushing her under. But that was one sea that she

 would have been happy to drown in, the deep ocean of Sakura’s love.

 Her fingers passed once more over the small dried patch of blood, a

 small sacrifice from Sakura that left itself as a tiny badge on the

 bear.

 	Sakura. That’s what she had named the bear. The name had flown into

 her mind the instant she had received it. After all, you were

 supposed to name your teddy bear after the one you loved. If you were

 lucky, it meant that they would fall in love with you as well. Tomoyo

 had explained that to Sakura years earlier. Sakura had been about to

 make one for Yukito when she asked why Tomoyo wasn’t making a bear

 for her special someone.  The dark haired woman had replied that she

 only wanted the one she loved to be happy. But she had wanted so

 dearly to make a bear for Sakura, to give it to her along with her

 love. Instead, she had sat by while Syaoran made one for Sakura and

 Sakura eventually gave hers to the Chinese boy. She had never made a

 bear for anyone and she found herself regretting that. Even if Sakura

 hadn’t been able to understand, even if she had never known why,

 Tomoyo wished that she had been able to make one for her beautiful

 friend. But her love had to be locked away, unable to come forth in

 such an obvious display. Not that she hadn’t been obvious enough at

 other times, now that she thought about it, but after explaining the

 bear in relation to her special someone, even dense Sakura would have

 been able to figure out that she was the one who held Tomoyo’s heart

 by strings. And up till now she had never received a teddy bear. Not

 that she had minded at all. Just like the boys she had turned down in

 high school when they had asked for dates, it just didn’t matter. Her

 one, true love was the only one in her heart. She was all right if

 that meant never getting flowers, or teddy bears, or chocolates as

 tokens of love. She could be happy as long as she knew her true love

 was. Even if she wasn’t with her.

 	But now Sakura had gone back and made her a teddy bear, something

 that Tomoyo had long given up on back in her youth. The gesture had

 surprised and amazed her. It was supposed to be from her special

 someone, Sakura had said. It _was_ from her special someone. It was a

 gift that she had never even allowed herself to hope for. The very

 thought that Sakura had made it specifically for her, that she had

 given her such an incredible gift was almost too much to handle. She

 hoped that Sakura would find her final costume soon after she left.

 She had left it on the bed in the small room she had occupied. It was

 still unfinished, but she wanted Sakura to have it regardless. She

 didn’t think she would make another costume after the wedding dress,

 so she would leave it unfinished for Sakura to do with as she pleased.

 	Hugging the bear closer, Tomoyo hardly seemed to notice the

 turbulence that suddenly began to buffet the plane. Such things were

 trivial and didn’t matter much to her in her current frame of mind.

 Part of her cried out, hoping that the plane would crash into the

 waves beneath them, slipping into the rough waters below. It would be

 a fitting end to her visit. The image of herself still strapped to

 her chair, eyes closed serenely, her hair fluttering about in the

 water as she held the bear beneath the waves entered her mind. She

 took the thoughts in stride, the dark imagery failing to worry her.

 If she were to die in such a way, then she would be happy. She would

 have seen her darling Sakura one last time in life and would be ready

 to fade from her life. But her mother was still waiting for her back

 home and Sakura would undoubtedly hear about such a disaster. No, she

 would have to find a quieter way to slip out of Sakura’s life. She

 knew that she had to fade away. And soon. This trip had been a

 blessing, but it had frightened her at times. Her continued presence

 in Sakura’s life could have drastic consequences if Sakura were to

 ever discover who her special someone was. The love that she had felt

 from Sakura had been intoxicating, wrapping around her like silk

 spider webs, unable and unwilling to get free from their hold. But if

 that love were to continue developing, it could be disastrous not

 only for Sakura’s marriage, but her entire new life as well. It was

 too dangerous. And far too painful. Being so close to Sakura, feeling

 the warmth in her heart, it was maddening for Tomoyo. So close yet so

 far. She knew that she could never be with the smiling brunette,

 could never love her the way she wanted to. Being so close was an

 exquisitely delightful torture, giving her secret thrills at sharing

 so much with Sakura, but with a heavy undercurrent of frozen icicles

 of pain slashing mercilessly at her heart. Her masks had become

 ineffectual, leaving her completely defenseless in Sakura’s presence.

 Watching Sakura’s marriage so closely, never being able to truly be a

 part of Sakura’s happiness, it would quickly destroy her. She was

 already broken. Tomoyo knew that. The cracks were becoming evident in

 her surface, the underlying structure starting to buckle. She would

 not last much longer in Sakura’s life, especially after the moments

 they had shared. The pain, the loneliness would quickly consume her.

 Watching Sakura and smiling, trying so hard to pretend that she was

 all right, she couldn’t keep it up anymore. She was tired. Oh, so

 tired. Her masks lay heavy on her shoulders and she could no longer

 work up the will to wear them as she once had. Yet she would continue

 to as well as she could for Sakura’s sake… until she could fade away.

 She was nothing more than a specter from Sakura’s past. It was about

 time that she made her exit. 

 	Her current train of thought sent fresh tears streaming down her

 ivory cheeks, falling helplessly to the teddy bear in her arms. She

 didn’t want to leave Sakura. She didn’t want to fade out of her life.

 After this trip, all she wanted was to be with her, to hold on to the

 woman she loved with all of her heart. But she knew she couldn’t. And

 she wouldn’t last much longer in Sakura’s life. Her pain had built up

 intensely inside of her for years now, growing steadily as she kept

 it all inside, never once showing her friend the torment in her

 heart. And it was rapidly becoming too much for her. Staying in

 Sakura’s life was making it grow stronger, the longing for Sakura

 becoming more painful, the pain as she watched Sakura’s marriage even

 more acute. She had to fade away. For herself and for Sakura. It was

 the only way. Staying would only bring more heartache and pain. There

 was still a chance that she could survive with only her memories of

 Sakura. Her mother had lasted all these years with memories of

 Nadeshiko. Perhaps she could do the same. The pain would never lessen

 in her heart and her love would never fade in the slightest, but she

 would know that Sakura was happy and that she was only a distant

 memory to her. No matter how much that hurt Tomoyo, she knew it was

 quickly becoming the only way out. 

 	Wiping her tears away with shaking fingers, Tomoyo smiled softly

 and politely turned down a flight attendants offer of help. Looking

 out the small window near her seat, the dark haired woman watched the

 clouds beneath them. The sun gleamed brightly from behind them,

 coloring the sky in beautiful oranges and pinks as it slowly began to

 fade away. “The sun is the most beautiful before it disappears,”

 Tomoyo whispered softly to the teddy bear. “That is what this trip

 was for. My beautiful memories of Sakura-chan before I fade away. At

 least we got to be together one last time. I’ll always cherish those

 memories and the time we spent together.” A soft smile crossed her

 lips. It was a heartfelt smile. Yes, this would be the last time she

 would see Sakura, but like the setting sun, it was gorgeous. Tomoyo

 had no regrets about the trip or her time spent with Sakura. It had

 been a beautiful gift that was bestowed upon her and she thanked

 whoever it was that had blessed her with Sakura’s friendship in the

 first place for the wonderful memories that would always be etched

 into her soul. Every second with Sakura had reminded her of just how

 much she loved the brunette. It had shown her once again that all she

 really wanted was for Sakura to be happy. Each magical moment had

 been like the sweetest dream, even down to their parting. It had been

 terribly painful to leave Sakura. Her legs had nearly refused to take

 her away from the other woman. But even then, Sakura’s gift had

 shined through the darkness of the moment. It had been as if Sakura

 had wrapped her battered heart gently in a soft quilt, cradling it

 from the pain. Yes, she would always treasure this trip and the

 pieces of Sakura’s heart that she held close to her own. When they

 were together, it had felt like all of the pieces to the puzzle had

 been brought together. Sakura had fit all of the missing pieces in

 her heart and soul. Tomoyo had felt complete. The loneliness was

 gone, the void in her heart was answered. She felt happy when she was

 with Sakura. Even if she couldn’t be the one to make Sakura happy,

 Sakura certainly was the one who made her happy. 

 	“I could never thank you enough for this trip, Sakura-chan. It was

 the most wonderful time of my life. Being with you must be a glimpse

 of Heaven,” Tomoyo whispered as she held the teddy bear in her lap.

 For a moment, she saw it as her own child, coming with her on some

 business trip. Is that what would happen? Would she find herself with

 a child to ease her loneliness and to try to fill the void in her

 life as her mother had? She knew that her mother had been happy to

 have her, Tomoyo’s young life giving her own meaning. The idea was

 very tempting, to raise a child of her own. Perhaps she could even

 convince Touya to supply the sperm for the child. She could get a

 very skilled doctor for the procedure. After all, she didn’t need to

 be with anyone to have a child. There were other procedures for that.

 In Vitro-Fertilization. And if half of it was coming from Touya, then

 it would be very close to the child she and Sakura would have had

 they been able to conceive one. A faint smile crossed her lips at the

 thought, images of Sakura in boys’ clothes once again filling her

 mind. A cute little girl. A child all her own. Yes, she’d have to

 look into it. She held the teddy bear closer. 

 	 The entire trip had left her small and relatively weak body

 exhausted, but sleep seemed light years away. Tomoyo’s mind was far

 too consumed by the trip itself and it’s implications to worry about

 such things as sleep. It had fulfilled one of her fondest dreams, to

 kiss Sakura with all of the love she could muster. And even more

 surprisingly, Sakura had returned it with a fervor she never would

 have imagined in the brunette. It had been a magical, fairy tale like

 kiss and that alone stood out as a symbol in her mind of the

 affection Sakura had showered upon her during her visit. She still

 found herself confused by it, but now there was nothing she could do

 about it. She would soon be back home in Japan, far away from the

 beautiful bride and her sweet and soul stirring kisses. But it left

 Tomoyo a little uneasy. Behind the confusion surrounding Sakura’s

 love, she saw something that resembled her own love remarkably. Like

 a crystal clear mirror, it seemed to reflect her own love, beaming

 from within Sakura. As if the Red String of Fate that was heavily

 knotted around her heart also tugged at Sakura’s. This gave Tomoyo

 pause, considering Sakura’s words on the night before she left. Even

 Sakura’s confession had sounded like one confessing a secret love.

 More than anything, she wanted to take that love and nurture it with

 her own, delighting in its shimmering radiance. 

 	Tomoyo wasn’t used to being confused. In fact, she very rarely was.

 Her mother loved her dearly, but she was gone often with her work so

 Tomoyo had relied heavily on her keen perception of people and their

 hearts for most of her life which is why she was having such a

 difficult time lying to herself that Sakura’s love was anything else.

 Tomoyo was a terrible liar, especially to herself. But if it was

 love, then what could she do? She had already wasted her chance to be

 with Sakura. Sakura was already married and in a new life. She

 couldn’t interfere. She just wanted Sakura to be happy and getting

 involved would just make things difficult for the poor magical girl.

 Her thoughts were finally interrupted by the pilot announcing their

 descent into Tokyo. Tomoyo was glad for the distraction. She held her

 teddy bear close as the plane made its way towards the airport below.

 “I love you, Sakura-chan,” she said out loud, half hoping that it

 would be heard and answered from across the sea.

 

 	Sonomi Daidouji looked down at her watch impatiently. “It’s been

 half an hour. What if something’s happened to my darling little

 Tomoyo-chan?” she asked no one in particular. Her voice held a tinge

 of mania in it, an overprotective quality within her that had only

 grown stronger since the loss of her beloved Nadeshiko. Her daughter

 was the only person that mattered in her life anymore and she

 couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to the pale girl. “I

 knew I should have sent the bodyguards with her.” 

 	Looking down at her laptop, the businesswoman sighed. She was too

 flustered to attempt to get any work done. Her mind was concentrating

 on other things. Her finger lingered over the shut down command, her

 attention on the picture of Nadeshiko that she used as a background.

 Though Nadeshiko had been a model for a number of years, this picture

 was one of a kind. Nadeshiko had sent it explicitly to her around the

 time she had been pregnant with Tomoyo. It was almost as if she’d

 known. There was a sweet, simple letter attached.  It mentioned

 nothing of the man Sonomi had come to hate, Nadeshiko’s husband,

 Fujitaka, or even of the birth of Sakura that must have been near at

 the time. It was merely a few words that Sonomi had read over and

 over until the ink had gotten smeared with her fingerprints and even

 then, they were vivid in her memory. ‘Thank you for always looking

 out for me, Sonomi-chan. Even if I don’t see you much anymore, I

 still hear your voice when I’m going about my day. You’ll always be

 in my heart.’ Three years later, she had died. Sonomi had never

 gotten to ask her why she had sent the letter. It just hadn’t seemed

 important while she was in the hospital. Sonomi’s mind had latched

 onto other things at the time. Her failure to protect Nadeshiko and

 the knowledge that she would soon lose her dearest cousin in this

 life was unbearable. It made everything else seem trivial. It was

 ironic that the only thing able to bring her back to Nadeshiko after

 the marriage to Fujitaka was her impending death. And she had once

 again been left without her. 

 	But, as Nadeshiko had said, she was always in her heart. The

 picture that Sonomi kept on her desktop and by her nightstand was not

 one of Nadeshiko the model, Nadeshiko the mother, or Nadeshiko the

 bride. It was simply her beloved Nadeshiko, her sweet little cousin.

 And that was all Sonomi ever really wanted. She had other pictures of

 Nadeshiko around the house and at her office, but this was her

 favorite. The words always followed in Nadeshiko’s gentle voice when

 she would look upon it. “Nadeshiko-chan, please look out for my

 daughter,” she said softly. 

 	Sonomi had spent the entire trip to the mountains in the vacation

 house plagued by worries and concerns for her daughter. She felt a

 little ashamed at what Tomoyo would think if she knew she had been

 smoking the entire time. But she couldn’t help it. Her mind had been

 in shambles, a hopelessness that had shrouded her soul sneaking up

 like a curse to strike down her only daughter. It hardly seemed fair.

 And Sonomi, the athletic and overprotective woman she was, once again

 failed to save those close to her. Just like she had been unable to

 protect Nadeshiko from HIM, she was unable to protect Tomoyo from the

 pain that had enveloped her own life. Her mind had been consumed with

 thoughts of her poor Tomoyo in Hong Kong, painfully aware of the boy

 that had married Sakura. She knew that she herself couldn’t have

 handled seeing Nadeshiko during her marriage to Fujitaka. It must

 have been terrible for Tomoyo. Which is why she had tried to get

 Tomoyo to come up with her to the mountains. She only wanted to

 protect her daughter from the sorrow and the hurt. Her dreams had all

 been nightmares during her restless sleep at the vacation home,

 always reliving either Nadeshiko’s wedding or her funeral. She would

 wake up screaming, tears streaming down her cheeks to an empty

 vacation home filled with smoke, silent except for the ghost of her

 daughter’s musical voice playing at the edge of her thoughts. 

 	Tomoyo’s return to Japan filled her with a sense of relief,

 although an afterthought of dread followed it. She really had no idea

 what had happened during Tomoyo’s trip and was afraid that her

 daughter had been thoroughly crushed by it all. Knowing she was

 coming back let her rest a bit easier because now she could once

 again keep an eye on the younger woman, trying to help however she

 could. She needed to know that her baby was all right, that she had

 survived the painful ordeal. “Oh, Tomoyo-chan, I wish you had come

 with me instead. I can’t stand to know that Sakura-chan is hurting

 you.” A sigh escaped her. If there was one thing that Sonomi hated

 (Fujitaka), it was (Fujitaka) not being able to protect the ones

 dearest to her. It was that feeling of utter helplessness that held

 her bound while she desperately wanted to make things better.  And it

 had struck first with Nadeshiko and now with her own daughter. It

 drove her crazy to be unable to keep her darling daughter safe from

 the pain and torment she had lived through. Her long fingers wrapped

 around the last cigarette in her purse. She rolled it over between

 her fingers thoughtfully. No, being self-destructive certainly

 wouldn’t help Tomoyo. She could almost hear her daughter’s voice

 asking her politely not to use the little paper stick. Sighing, she

 tossed it into the nearest trash can. 

 	“Okaa-sama?” a tired voice asked behind her. Sonomi whirled around,

 eyes settling on the visage of her exhausted daughter. Tomoyo had

 dark bags under her eyes and her body seemed nearly too tired to walk

 another step. Her smile was soft and sweet, her stormy blue eyes

 sparkling with a mixture of emotions. Sadness, loss, joy, relief. She

 seemed far too tired to struggle with her masks, though Sonomi could

 see through her daughter’s charades easily enough. It looked like the

 dark haired woman had been crying, her cheeks puffy and red and her

 eyes bloodshot. She was holding a pink and white teddy bear and one

 bag she had carried on with her. Sonomi’s arms wrapped around the

 younger girl, pulling her nearly off her feet. Despite Tomoyo’s

 exhaustion, the heiress nearly flew into her mother’s arms,

 collapsing moments afterwards. “Okaa-sama... It’s so good to see

 you,” she whispered. Her voice was near breaking. 

 	“Tomoyo-chan!” Sonomi began smoothing down her daughter’s lavender

 hair as she held onto the weak figure in her arms. “I was starting to

 worry. I was starting to think something happened to your plane.”

 Choking back tears that suddenly threatened the businesswoman, she

 shook her head, smiling. “I’m just glad to see you, Tomoyo-chan.

 Here, let the bodyguards get the rest of your bags and we’ll head

 straight home. You look like you haven’t slept in days. We’ll get you

 right in bed as soon as we’re home.” Standing back to get a better

 look at her daughter, Sonomi couldn’t help but smile wider. Her worry

 seemed to evaporate now that Tomoyo was back in Japan. Now she could

 protect her again. Now she would be safe. “I’m so glad to have you

 back, Tomoyo-chan.” Giving her daughter another quick hug, Sonomi

 finally stepped back. 

 	A soft sigh escaped Tomoyo’s lips. She was home now. The whole trip

 was behind her now. But it still felt fresh and alive in her memory,

 as if she was reliving it at the very moment. Seeing her mother took

 away the edge to her pain. It was still there, but much more distant.

 She always felt safe when her mother was nearby. Her indomitable

 spirit was something Tomoyo had always admired about her mother, and

 it always made things feel better when she was there. "Arigato

 gozaimasu,” Tomoyo said, bowing. One of the darkly dressed women

 standing behind her mother took her bag, though she held tightly onto

 the teddy bear. Two others returned with the rest of her luggage. 

 	Sonomi led the way towards the limousine, standing very near

 Tomoyo, half afraid that her daughter would simply collapse. “If

 you’re too tired, I can carry you the rest of the way,” Sonomi

 offered, watching her daughter out of the corner of her eyes. “I used

 to all the time when you were younger, Tomoyo-chan.” A bright smile

 played across her lips at the memories. Her tiny little daughter

 asleep in her arms as she would carry her off to bed. She still did

 that occasionally when she found Tomoyo asleep while watching her

 videotapes of Sakura. The young woman she saw next to her seemed to

 be replaced by the tiny daughter of yesteryear, happy to see her

 mother again after a business trip. But the look in her eyes brought

 Sonomi back to the present. There was something in those eyes that

 was far too old for the young woman, an ancient pain and knowledge.

 She was mature for her years.  She always had been. She had always

 surprised Sonomi, brightening up her otherwise lonely and busy life. 

 	Tomoyo smiled at the offer, but shook her head politely. Long dark

 hair fluttered from side to side. “No, that’s all right, Okaa-sama. I

 think I can make it on my own.” She was happy to see that her mother

 was still as sweetly overprotective as ever. It had always been

 something she could rely on when she was younger. When she was tucked

 away in bed, she had always known that her mother would keep an eye

 on her. And that if anything went wrong, Sonomi would be the first to

 her rescue. It was a comforting thought. Of course, Tomoyo tried

 extra hard not to worry her mother because of that overprotective

 nature. In the same way Tomoyo didn’t want Sakura to feel bad because

 of her, she tried to do the same for her mother. But Sonomi always

 foiled her attempts by seeing straight through her masks, looking

 directly into her soul. She still didn’t know how her mother managed

 it when no one else seemed capable, but the only answer her mother

 ever supplied was simply that: She was her mother. 

 	The two women and their small entourage finally made it to the

 limousine out in the airport parking lot. One of the bodyguards

 opened the door for the two of them and they slid inside the

 comfortable interior. “How was your trip, Tomoyo-chan?” Sonomi asked

 at last, almost afraid of the answer. To her surprise, Tomoyo giggled

 softly, smiling brightly in response. 

 	“It was wonderful, Okaa-sama. It was absolutely amazing. Seeing

 Sakura-chan again was like a fairy tale. She was a beautiful

 princess, capturing me away in a small tower in her heart during my

 visit. I don’t think I’ve ever had dreams nearly so pleasant. It was

 perfect, mother. I thought after so long, I would be in the way while

 I was there, that I should try to distance myself during the trip.

 But I couldn’t. Not with Sakura-chan. She pulled me out from behind

 the curtains and wouldn’t let me go. We talked for hours and hours,

 her voice is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard, and we held

 onto each other. She did my hair like she used to when we were little

 girls and we danced late into the night together, all alone amidst

 the crowd.” Her stormy blue eyes closed as she tilted her head to the

 side, her cheeks flushing slightly at the memories. “We kissed under

 the moonlight. She has incredibly soft lips. Sakura-chan is a very

 good kisser.”

 	Sonomi clasped her hands together, very nearly startling Tomoyo out

 of her reverie. Her eyes shone like diamonds, an electric thrill

 coursing up her spine. “Tomoyo-chan, you kissed Sakura-chan?” She

 couldn’t have been happier if she’d been told that she had kissed

 Nadeshiko. In fact, it felt almost the same. She saw so much of

 herself and Nadeshiko in the two girls. These little things between

 their daughters almost felt like she herself was living through it.

 For a second, she saw Nadeshiko sitting beside her, a small smile on

 her lips and beautiful black ribbons in her hair. She looked quite a

 bit like Tomoyo at that age, actually. And Sakura even resembled

 herself in some small ways. Sonomi hugged her daughter tightly,

 delight dancing through her. “Tomoyo-chan, that’s fantastic! You’ll

 have to tell me every single detail!”

 	Tomoyo giggled softly and nodded. So often she kept her love for

 Sakura to herself, locked up in her heart. She was very happy to be

 able to share that with her mother. Her mother was nearly as obsessed

 with Sakura as she herself was, being Nadeshiko’s daughter and all,

 and it was wonderful to have someone to talk about it with. If anyone

 understood her love for Sakura, it was her mother who had gone

 through much the same thing with Nadeshiko. Smiling happily, Tomoyo

 added, “And I have plenty of videotape from the trip. Not as much as

 I would have liked, but I have some nice footage.” 

 	“I can’t wait to see it all, Tomoyo-chan,” Sonomi said eagerly. She

 felt delightfully giddy at the prospects of what had happened during

 Tomoyo’s trip. There was even a trill of hope in her heart, one she

 hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time. In a way, her hopes and

 dreams had been passed on to Tomoyo. She knew that Tomoyo obviously

 wasn’t with Sakura, but the idea of a kiss was a gripping thought.

 "But first, you’re going to get some sleep. Then you can tell me all

 about it.”

 	“I would like that very much, mother,” Tomoyo replied, hugging the

 bear named Sakura to her chest. Yawning tiredly, she felt her mother

 pull her closer. Before long, she was asleep with her head on

 Sonomi’s shoulder.