Dear Sakura

 Fireflies and Cherry Blossoms

 by Amazoness Duo and G.P.

 amazonessduo@hotmail.com

 pearsong1954@yahoo.com

 

 

 	“This is just what I needed. Work has been so busy lately, hasn’t

 it, Tomoyo-chan? I think we both needed a chance to finally relax for

 once,” Sonomi observed as she and her daughter walked around all of

 the booths that had been set up at the shrine. The two Daidouji women

 were resplendent in their kimonos. Sonomi had become more and more

 concerned about her daughter’s welfare after finding her crying near

 the mailbox several days earlier. But as usual, Tomoyo had tried

 desperately not to worry her. And if Sonomi couldn’t get Tomoyo to

 tell her what was wrong, how could she help? Of course, she had a

 fairly good idea of what was bothering Tomoyo. Sakura. Sonomi

 mentally twitched at the thought. Sakura was such a wonderful girl,

 but the business woman was having a very difficult time keeping her

 anger in check when it came to the Cardmistress. Seeing her daughter

 in so much pain was heart wrenching to the distraught mother. Ever

 since Tomoyo had returned from Hong Kong, something heavy had been

 weighing down on the dark haired girl’s soul. Sonomi had been

 thrilled to hear about Tomoyo’s experiences with Nadeshiko’s

 daughter, but it seemed that her daughter had brought back something

 other than happy memories from her trip. Something dark that had

 wrapped around Tomoyo’s heart, it’s thorns piercing the gentle

 object. So Sonomi had tried to get Tomoyo away from it all by taking

 her out to a festival. The business woman dealt with her own pain by

 focusing on other things, whether it be work or athletics or her

 daughter. It helped her to forget that she had lost the one most dear

 to her. It allowed her to be distracted from the ice cold anguish

 that languished in her heart. She only hoped that the same thing

 would help her precocious daughter.

 	“Hai, okaa-sama. It’s been very busy lately with the new deadline

 coming up. But I’m sure that even with the added pressure, you’ll

 have everything perfectly wrapped up in time. You always do such a

 wonderful job of keeping things under control,” Tomoyo’s soft voice

 replied. Pale fingers brushed back her braided hair from her eyes as

 she looked forward. Noticing that Sonomi was watching her carefully,

 she plastered on her typically charming smile and shined it at her

 mother, though it felt fake and see through to her. She hadn’t wanted

 to go and would have protested, but she didn’t want to worry her

 mother. Poor Sonomi had been through enough without seeing the pain

 in Tomoyo’s shattered heart. She needed to hold on long enough so as

 not to concern the older woman. But it was so difficult to keep a

 grasp on her masks. They felt brittle, translucent. Her inner turmoil

 was making it impossible to hide the pain for much longer. So this

 would be her last performance. When this show was over, she would

 once and for all throw her masks away, tossing away the once

 cherished mental barriers that had up till now protected those she

 loved from her own pain. After all, there would be no one to worry

 about hurting after that so they wold no longer be necessary. But for

 now, she would perform her best for her mother. The thought reminded

 her of when she was a child, how she had always sang her best when

 Sakura had been in the audience or when Sonomi had managed to sneak

 away from work long enough to listen to her daughter’s singing on

 stage. It brought a small, sad smile to her lips. She always had

 performed the best for those two, whether it be singing or hiding her

 feelings. Unfortunately, it worked a lot better on Sakura than it did

 with Sonomi. Her mother always managed to see through her to the

 feelings inside.

 	Sonomi nodded in agreement, her stormy blue eyes settling on the

 beautiful visage of her daughter. ‘Oh my God, she looks so much like

 Nadeshiko-chan... I swear that she and Sakura-chan must have been

 switched at birth. She’s so much like her. So loving. So gentle. So

 sweet. Nadeshiko-chan always went out to care for animals and

 anything that looked like it was in pain. Tomoyo-chan has done the

 same with the hearts of others. She’ll never know how much she’s

 helped ease the pain in my own heart. But it’s not fair that no one

 can take away her pain,’ Sonomi thought to herself, still half in

 shock at seeing Tomoyo in the moonlight. The younger girl could have

 passed herself off as Nadeshiko at that age perfectly. Her pale skin

 and dark hair, her sweet smile, they all painted a picture from long

 ago. Sonomi smiled brightly, brushing away some of Tomoyo's dark hair

 from her face. “You look so gorgeous, Tomoyo-chan! You’ve grown into

 such a lovely young woman. I always knew that you’d surpass Goddesses

 in their beauty.” Sonomi watched her daughter as she dug through her

 purse for her camera. When was the last time the mother and daughter

 had gone to a festival together? She had to have a picture of this.

 Tomoyo was practically shining in her kimono. The picture would look

 perfect right next to a picture of Nadeshiko in a kimono just a year

 or two younger. “I’m going to take a picture, Tomoyo-chan. I want to

 be able to look back on tonight.” ‘Especially if you’re leaving,’

 Sonomi added glumly as an afterthought. She already knew that Tomoyo

 was moving out, but she suspected that her reasons were far more

 complex than simply wanting to get out on her own. The pain in

 Tomoyo’s eyes was a fairly good indicator to Sonomi of that. She had

 come to the conclusion that her daughter wanted to escape the pain,

 that she was leaving to try and put it behind her. Sonomi couldn’t

 fault her baby girl with that. She had done the same thing when

 Nadeshiko had married Fujitaka, leaving shortly after the wedding and

 breaking all her ties with the only person she had ever loved. It was

 the only way she could survive. She would never have been able to

 stay near her cousin while she was happily married to the man who had

 stolen her away. She guessed that it was the same for Tomoyo, that

 she hoped to outdistance the pain. If only it were that easy. But

 Sonomi knew that it may be the only way for Tomoyo to handle the

 agony of never having her love returned. 

 	Tomoyo tilted her head to the side, clasping her hands in front of

 her as she smiled sweetly. The camera clicked and whirred as Sonomi

 took her picture. Time froze in that instant, a single memory frozen

 forever on film. The picture of a shattered girl hiding behind her

 tattered and unraveling masks, crying helplessly underneath the smile

 that she shined out at the camera. Despite her smile, Sonomi would

 forever find the picture disturbing, never quite sure what was wrong

 with the beautiful picture. When she looked at it long enough, she

 would almost be able to see her daughter’s tears, the agony on her

 face and the pain in her torn heart. But after a cold chill would

 pass down her spine, the image would be gone, replaced once again

 with the slightly disturbing picture of Tomoyo smiling in her kimono.

 	And with that, time continued along its inevitable path. Tomoyo

 continued to hold her hands in front of her as she and her mother

 glanced around curiously at the decorations and the festival goers.

 Tomoyo was wearing a delicate teal kimono with dark blue flower petal

 designs across it, like flowers floating on a calm ocean. Sonomi’s

 kimono was a rust red, multicolored flowers adorning its design as if

 bouquets had been sewn into the red fabric. The two Daidouji women

 turned several heads as they continued along under the moonlight,

 though neither paid any attention. 

 	Sighing inwardly, Sonomi wished that there was some way that she

 could take away her daughter’s hurt, that she could assume all of the

 dark haired girl’s suffering for herself. Watching Tomoyo slowly

 splinter apart was maddening for the already overprotective mother.

 It was much more painful to see the most important piece of her life

 begin to crack and break apart than it was to deal with her own pain.

 With the loss of Nadeshiko she could mourn or fume in anger over the

 man who had stolen her precious cousin away from her. But there was

 nothing she could do for her delicate daughter. She felt trapped by

 her own helplessness, and it was suffocating her. As Tomoyo’s mother,

 it was impossible for her not to feel the torment of her baby girl.

 Having lived through the same pain herself, Sonomi would give

 anything to take it away from her daughter. Then she would have

 something to fight, something that she could actually do to fix the

 situation. It wasn’t fair that Tomoyo’s heart was just as doomed as

 her mother’s to an eternity of loneliness. What had the young woman

 done to deserve such an agonizing fate? Who had she ever wronged?

 Tomoyo had been nothing but selfless in her love for Sakura. She

 deserved her storybook ending and it tore at Sonomi’s heart to see

 that denied to her little girl. 

 	What made the situation all the more unbearable for the head of the

 Daidouji household was that it was Sakura behind her daughter’s

 suffering. Cute, genki, innocent Sakura-chan. Sonomi had only the

 highest regards of Sakura for years. The sweet little schoolgirl had

 brightened her life nearly as much as she had brightened Tomoyo’s.

 And the fact that she was Nadeshiko’s daughter was not lost on

 Sonomi. Even if there were more similarities between Nadeshiko and

 Tomoyo than between Nadeshiko and her actual daughter, Sonomi had

 always managed to catch a glimpse of Sakura’s mother in her. And she

 had always been such a delight to have around. Sonomi understood

 completely how her daughter had fallen in love with the spirited and

 somewhat naïve woman. So it pained her all the more to know that

 Sakura was the one that caused her daughter’s tears again and again.

 It was almost a contradiction that such a sweetly lovable girl like

 Sakura would be capable of the brutal pain that battered Tomoyo’s

 heart. This same contradiction was what confused Sonomi’s own

 thoughts. She thought very highly of Sakura. Cared very much for the

 young woman, in fact, as Nadeshiko’s daughter, the one Tomoyo loved,

 and as a wonderful girl in her own right. But Sonomi was also

 fiercely protective of those she cared about, and with Nadeshiko

 gone, the one that took highest priority on her list was her gentle

 daughter, Tomoyo. And seeing Sakura causing such devastation to her

 daughter was something that she simply couldn’t forgive. Yet she

 couldn’t bring herself to hate Sakura. Not in the same way that she

 hated Fujitaka, the girl’s father. She genuinely liked Sakura and was

 always pleasantly charmed by her company. She had been nearly as

 captivated by the brunette as her daughter always was. So it was very

 difficult for her to sort out these conflicting feelings. 

 	But seeing the painful shards in Tomoyo’s usually deep and soulful

 indigo eyes had pushed Sonomi to reevaluate her feelings towards the

 Cardmistress. How could Sakura treat her daughter’s heart as if it

 was some mere trinket? Something that she could ignore and take for

 granted? Such an act showed just how terribly Sakura had failed her

 best friend and Sonomi’s one and only daughter. Anyone who could

 bring tears to Tomoyo’s lovely eyes was guilty of a terrible sin to

 the dark haired beauty. Yet Tomoyo could never bring herself to be

 angry with Sakura, could never fault the brunette’s naivete for the

 pain it caused her. On the other hand, her mother wasn’t quite as

 forgiving. ‘Sonomi-chan, you’re not still mad at him, are you?’

 Nadeshiko’s voice gently chided, deep from within Sonomi’s memories.

 As always, it was accompanied by the most dazzling of smiles, of

 which one always graced Nadeshiko’s beautiful features. Nadeshiko was

 so much like her daughter in that way. Never one to get angry, even

 when she had every right to be, always having such a remarkably

 touching faith that things would turn out all right. But Sonomi was

 starting to fear that her daughter was losing that faith. And with

 it, her daughter’s soul began to crumble like a house of cards.

 ‘Yes... Yes, I’m still angry with him, Nadeshiko-chan... But not just

 for beating me at track the time when you said that. No, I will never

 forgive him for stealing everything from me. Most importantly, for

 taking you away. And now his daughter’s doing the same thing to my

 baby girl,’ Sonomi mentally replied to her cousin’s question from

 years long past. Her eyes narrowed as she once again saw the familiar

 features of the man that had managed to single handedly ruin her

 life. To her surprise, his face shifted into someone else entirely.

 Tilting her head to the side, Sakura smiled sweetly.

 	Nearly backpedaling from the sight, Sonomi was relieved to see that

 it had only been her imagination. A young girl stared at her

 awkwardly for a moment before running off to find her mother. Placing

 her hand on her chest, the business woman began to breathe deeply,

 trying to relax her thunderously beating heart. It had only been her

 already overworked mind playing along with her thoughts. Not that she

 needed that at the moment. She was too busy trying to... “Tomoyo-

 chan?” Turning around, Sonomi tried to catch a glimpse of her

 daughter but to no avail. While she had been lost in her thoughts,

 Tomoyo had disappeared. Panic gripped at the business woman’s heart

 as she scanned the crowds for any sign of pale skin or lavender hair.

 Though Tomoyo was a young woman now and capable of taking care of

 herself, Sonomi felt the irrational fear that she would never see her

 cherished daughter again. Her mind quickly reassured her that it

 simply wasn’t the case, but it was cold comfort. And she was

 generally one to listen to her feelings over her thoughts. And her

 feelings were telling her that something was terribly wrong. That she

 had to hurry to her daughter’s side before it was too late. But what

 would she be too late for?

 

 	Tomoyo walked silently out into a clearing, devoid of anything but

 the soft sparkle of fireflies as they lit the sky around her. A

 small, sad smile crossed her lips in remembrance of watching Sakura

 catch the Glow Card out on a similar night. Those tiny little

 floating lights in the air were so similar to the Clow Card’s own

 gentle glow. Sakura had been so happy that night, spending time with

 her crush at the time, Yukito Tsukishiro, under the moonlight. And

 Tomoyo had been more than happy to watch the two of them from the

 safety of some bushes, delighting in Sakura’s cute blush and the

 brunette’s ecstasy of spending time with the snow rabbit. Why wasn’t

 that enough for her anymore? Why couldn’t she be content to watch

 Sakura’s life through a camcorder lens the way she always had? 

 	Fanren’s words returned to Tomoyo in answer to her unspoken

 question. Because her own heart was always pouring out love to

 Sakura, it was empty inside. And her brittle heart was collapsing

 under its own weight. She couldn’t continue to watch Sakura married

 and living a life that really didn’t need her. Tomoyo was only human.

 Even she couldn’t handle watching the one she loved forever in love

 with someone else. It only made her own lonely heart cry out even

 more into the moonlight, making it ache incessantly more. It had been

 what she wanted, to make Sakura happy by any means necessary. And she

 had given up Sakura to Syaoran in the hopes that he could make her

 happy. “As long as the one I love is happy, it doesn’t matter if they

 love me,” Tomoyo whispered, repeating words from a happier childhood.

 And it was true, she wanted Sakura to be happy above all else. But

 seeing it, actually watching Sakura’s new happy life unfold, it only

 made the loneliness in Tomoyo’s heart more poignant, more acute. Her

 love for Sakura actually made it infinitely worse for her because it

 just reinforced the emptiness in her heart. Knowing that the most

 important person in her life no longer needed her, that she was no

 longer necessary was a chilling revelation. With that, all purpose

 from her life seemed to disappear like mist on a sunny morning. She

 had devoted so much of her life to Sakura that the prospect of no

 longer being useful to the brunette was devastating. But even then,

 at least she would be able to watch Sakura. But even that was beyond

 her now. Every time that Sakura came to her about her husband, about

 her happy new life, it hurt her. It hurt her to know that she was not

 a part of it, that she could never be a part of it. To see the two of

 them in love, to know that Sakura’s love was for someone else alone,

 it left her frail and weak. She now knew why her mother had left when

 Nadeshiko had gotten married. It was simply too painful to stay and

 watch the one you love while they love another. 

 	Tomoyo had wrestled with her feelings about leaving for quite a

 while before that, so she understood what lay behind them. Her fear

 of ruining Sakura’s happy life and her need to get away from the pain

 that haunted her while she remained in Sakura’s life had all played a

 part in her decision. She already regretted her decision terribly,

 but knew that she really had no other choice. To stay in Sakura’s

 life would be to invite disaster. If she didn’t ruin the brunette’s

 marriage when Sakura discovered her feelings, her heart would die

 from remaining to watch it all. So this was for the best. But somehow

 that knowledge did little to comfort the lavender haired heiress. She

 would never see Sakura again, even if it was the only way out. Tears

 began to trickle down her cheeks as she held herself in the cold

 night. That was the way it always was. She was all alone, holding her

 feelings inside. And it was the way things always would be. A life

 devoid of Sakura felt incredibly empty, like life in a vacuum. But

 wasn’t that what her videotape collection was for? Somehow those

 collections of frozen images and captured memories felt poorly

 inadequate now. She wanted the real Sakura. She longed for her touch,

 for her soft voice and her beautifully hopeful eyes. The videotapes

 were now a painful reminder of what she could never have, of what she

 would never again behold. Yet they were her only taste left of

 Sakura. Her last great treasure. Even if they were bittersweet, they

 were beautiful moments with Sakura, captured forever on videotape. So

 she would always have them to drown in, beautiful memories to

 surround herself with. They would make a wonderful coffin, one of

 cute moments, dizzying costumes, and the always energetic Sakura. And

 she could bury herself in them. 

 	That had felt like her only means of escape, her only way to

 survive without Sakura. But now she had to wonder if even that would

 be enough. Her life felt woefully empty without the captivating

 brunette. And she knew that nothing, not even her videotapes, could

 ever truly replace her. Of course, that was never what the videos

 were intended for. They were her documentary of Sakura, her footage

 of time long ago, more like memories than anything else. And just

 like memories, they paled in comparison to the real thing. 

 So just how could she survive a life without Sakura? Her stormy blue

 eyes closed, her braided hair fluttering around in the biting breeze

 as she tried to concentrate on just what a life might entail. The

 wind whispered in her ear as the fireflies continued their endless

 dance up above her. Sound could be heard in the distance as the

 festival continued for those merry enough to join in. Nothing... She

 could see nothing. It was as if her life’s journey ended once she was

 without Sakura. And even if she continued on with such a life, what

 meaning would their be to it? What possible purpose could it serve?

 Like a clock that had wound down, it would be cold and meaningless.

 Just like her masks, it would be pretty, but absolutely false. It

 would be empty. Is a life lived merely for the sake of living really

 worth living at all? Would it not be better to join Sakura’s mother

 up in the skies above, to watch down on Sakura and her mother rather

 than to continue forward helplessly alone and lost in the dark?

 “Tomoyo-chan!! There you are!” Sonomi called out as she hurried to

 meet her daughter in the clearing. She smiled in relief, glad to see

 that her daughter was in no trouble after all. But a closer glance

 made her rethink that. She could see wet tears on her daughter’s

 cheeks, though the pale girl quickly wiped them away with the sleeve

 of her kimono. Perhaps she was in no physical danger, but Sonomi was

 beginning to think that was the least of her problems. “Tomoyo-chan,

 what’s wrong?” she asked quietly, her hands resting on the dark

 haired woman’s shoulders. 

 Tomoyo didn’t meet her mother’s gaze for a long moment, and it took

 all of her strength to attempt a smile as she finally turned to look

 at Sonomi. “It’s nothing. I’m fine, okaa-sama,” she said quietly. But

 she knew at once that she had failed miserably. Sonomi didn’t look

 the least bit swayed by her words, concern etched on her face. 

 	“Tomoyo-chan, I’m your mother. I know that’s not true. Please, tell

 me what’s wrong. I need to know,” Sonomi whispered. She cupped

 Tomoyo’s chin when the younger girl tried to avert her gaze, stormy

 blue eyes meeting stormy blue eyes. 

 	The dark haired girl balked at first, unsure of what to say to her

 mother. Explanations popped to mind, all specifically tailored to

 diffuse her mother’s worry. But she felt too weak to use any of them.

 With a sobbing breath, Tomoyo let go of her masks, their remains

 shattering uselessly in the wind. “I don’t know how to say goodbye,”

 the pale heiress whispered as fresh tears made their way down her

 cheeks and past Sonomi’s waiting hand. Her whole body felt consumed

 with despair, eating away at every bit of her soul. She had failed at

 protecting those she cared about with her masks, first in front of

 Sakura and now with her mother. She could only hope that her masks

 had held when writing her last letter to Sakura, but the brunette was

 probably still angry with her or at least confused about why Tomoyo

 would leave. And Tomoyo would understand if Sakura was angry with

 her. As long as Sakura was happy in her new life, it didn’t matter.

 But she didn’t have that same safeguard with her mother. She knew

 that leaving could very well hurt her mother terribly. And when she

 left, her mother wouldn’t have the one she loved and a happy new life

 to fall back on. Which is why she had tried so hard not to worry her

 mother with her departure. She had never wanted to hurt the older

 woman. It’s just that she couldn’t stay any longer. She was too

 consumed with grief. She had to get away. It would only hurt her

 mother if she stayed. 

 	Sonomi smiled softly, her own eyes glittering with tears as her

 hands moved to Tomoyo’s tear stained cheeks. “Oh, Tomoyo-chan... Is

 that what this is about?” She shook her head, laughing slightly. It

 was a pained sound, but it was honest. “I understand, my little girl.

 I know you have to put all of this behind you. I know that you can’t

 stay and let the pain devour you. I did the same thing when I left

 Nadeshiko-chan when she got married. I couldn’t stay. Even now, I

 have so many regrets about that. I only saw her for such a brief time

 before she died. I missed out on so many years of her life. But I

 don’t think I could have survived if I had stayed there with her

 during her marriage to Fujitaka. The human heart just isn’t made to

 handle that kind of pain. I don’t think I would have survived at all

 if it hadn’t been for you, Tomoyo-chan. You gave me a reason to live.

 You were my sweet little girl. You were the one person that I could

 always love and cherish, who I knew would forever be a part of me.”

 Tears of her own fell down her cheeks, though she continued to smile

 at her quietly sobbing daughter. “And I thank you so much for that.

 You gave me so much in life that I thought had been lost forever. I

 was so consumed by sorrow and anger that I had forgotten the things

 that make life worth living. You brought them all back to me. So I

 understand if you have to flee all of this. I was happy to try and

 keep you with me as long as I could, even if I knew this was

 inevitable. You have to let a baby bird fly free some day. Just like

 my angel, Nadeshiko-chan. I couldn’t protect her forever. And even

 though I wish dearly that I could always protect you, Tomoyo-chan, I

 know that I can’t.” 

 	Tomoyo’s mind spun as she considered the similarities between

 herself and her mother’s cousin. ‘I want to be an angel,’ she thought

 to herself. Oh, to be able to soar above this mortal coil, to escape

 the anguish that now seemed a permanent aspect of life, to be able to

 watch Sakura and protect her, it all sounded like a dream. But there

 was a darker side to her mother’s words. And Tomoyo felt them

 instantly. She hugged her mother tightly, still crying weakly against

 the slightly taller woman. “But I don’t want to leave you like that.

 I know how much it hurt you when you lost her. I would never want to

 hurt you like that, okaa-sama... Sometimes I think you’re the only

 person who ever really knew me.” She closed her eyes tightly, trying

 to stop the onslaught of fresh tears. “You always understood how I

 felt about Sakura-chan. You know how much it hurts not to be with the

 one you love. I don’t want to leave you, but...”

 	Silencing her daughter with a kiss on her forehead, Sonomi hugged

 Tomoyo tightly. “Shhh... I know. I know.” The older woman smiled

 softly. “Not that you didn’t make it difficult enough to know you.

 You always did have a tendency to hide your feelings when you didn’t

 want to burden someone. But you’re my little girl, so I had to see

 through it.” She paused, brushing Tomoyo’s hair out of her eyes. “I

 don’t want you to hurt like this, Tomoyo-chan. I don’t want to see

 you so heartbroken. And if leaving is the only way that you can heal

 your broken heart, then I have to accept that. But please... If you

 can ever come back, or even if you could just write me a letter to

 know what my darling daughter has been up to...” Her voice trailed

 off.

 	Tomoyo burst into pain wracked sobs, clutching onto her mother. She

 couldn’t even promise that she could send her a letter. How could she

 just abandon her mother like that? But Sonomi was right. She couldn’t

 stay. She had to fade away. She had to disappear before it was too

 late for everyone. “I’m so sorry, okaa-sama...” Tomoyo got out

 between sobs, her head resting on Sonomi’s shoulder.

 Standing there, holding onto her daughter, Sonomi finally made her

 decision. She hated Sakura. She hated the girl for all she had done

 to her daughter, for all of the anguish she had caused her only

 child. Holding Tomoyo tightly, Sonomi could only rock back and forth,

 humming a gentle lullaby that she used to sing to Tomoyo when she was

 only a child. She only wished that it still held the same power to

 put the dark haired girl into a peaceful slumber. Standing in the

 moonlight, surrounded by fireflies, the mother and daughter cried

 together. Over lost love, over the end of the beginning, and over the

 death of hope.