Fruits Candy

 A Sakura and Tomoyo Story

 By G. P.

 Please send comments to treeandleaf2002@yahoo.com

 Note: All characters depicted herein are property of CLAMP. This

 work in no way is meant to infringe on those rights.

 

 This is story is part of a continuing series, though it can also be

 read alone. The previous stories in the series are:

 1. Love is the Crooked Thing

 2. First Date

 

 

 

 Gazing out the window, Sakura caught sight of the long, black

 Cadillac pulling up to the curb. With clipped, almost military

 motions, a female bodyguard dressed in a severe, slate-gray dress

 popped out and opened the back passenger door. Tomoyo emerged,

 dressed in a simple cobalt-blue dress, her gray-black hair in two

 long braids, tied at the ends with pink ribbons. Sakura felt her

 heart flutter at the sight, and blushed deeply. She was still

 adjusting to the notion of Tomoyo-chan as something more than her

 very best friend. Like a double thunderclap, Tomoyo's love for her,

 and her own love for Tomoyo, had come as explosive revelations, one

 after another. 

 

 She still felt deafened by the shock, a bit confused and

 disoriented. In some ways, nothing had changed. Tomoyo especially

 seemed as she always had: bright, cheerful, kind, and helpful. But

 Sakura was sometimes uneasy in her presence in a way she had never

 felt before. Sometimes, sitting by her in class or at lunch, she felt

 buffeted by a strange whorl of emotions. She knew now that those

 emotions had always been there, laying unrecognized in her heart,

 waiting. When she finally saw that Tomoyo liked her- like that, her

 own feelings were at last unfettered. As the leaves fell and the

 nights grew chill with winter, Sakura had struggled with the dilemma

 of how to love her best friend.

 

 Tomoyo stepped lightly up to the door, carrying a canvas bag with a

 picture of a French flag on the side. Sakura sprang to the door,

 opening it as she approached. 

 

 "Konichiwa, Tomoyo-chan!"

 

 "Konichiwa, Sakura-chan!" She took Sakura by the hand and smiled,

 "Thank you for inviting me to your house."

 

  "No, thank you for coming. My father is at a Conference for the

 weekend and won't be here, so I wanted to make a special dessert for

 oniichan tonight. You're just so much better at it than me."

 

 Tomoyo looked aghast, "But Sakura-chan, you make beautiful things.

 The cake you baked for your father was wonderful".

 

 "All the same, I'm glad you're here. Would you like some tea?"

 

 "Oh, yes, thank you. Shall I help?"

 

 Sakura smiled, nodded, and went to boil the water as Tomoyo gathered

 up the cups and napkins. It was just like her. She was helpful and

 considerate in such a natural way that you were sometimes unaware of

 what a gracious friend she was. Sakura broke the silence,

 

 "How is your Mother?"

 

 "Oh, she is very well, thank you. She was talking about you the

 other day".

 

 Sakura tilted her head quizzically.

 

 Tomoyo smiled, and continued, "I showed her the videotape of your

 race from the school festival. She watched it so many times that I

 had to make a copy for her before the tape wore out." Tomoyo

 suppressed what seemed to be a giggle,

 

 "She said you have great potential as a runner, but will need work

 on your technique. She said your father should teach you, but if he

 is too busy she would be happy to coach you."

 

 At the prospect of running like Sonomi, Sakura brightened visibly.

 Almost leaping from her chair, her eyes glistening at the prospect,

 she blurted out, 

 

 "Really? That is so nice of her! I would love to run like that!"

 

 Tomoyo touched her cheek with her hand and gazed adoringly at her

 friend. In physical activity, in track and gymnastics and swimming,

 Sakura was like some beautiful, feline animal, coiled power exploding

 with easy grace. No wonder she made such an exquisite Card Captor!

 

 Sakura caught the pale girl's look and blushed. Tomoyo was

 so....eccentric. Even knowing they were now more than best friends,

 her adoration still stirred a strange mix of feelings: embarrassment,

 shyness, and a delightful sense of being utterly loved. Sakura put

 her hand behind the back of her head and laughed in an odd voice,

 

 "Ha-ha-ha, um, should we begin the dessert?"

 

 Tomoyo nodded, all smiles, and began to open the large canvas bag.

 Sakura watched, her curiosity aflame. First out of the mysterious bag

 was....the video camera. She felt the welling of a sweat drop. Tomoyo

 laughed and said,

 

 " To film with, and to help you study your technique". 

 

 Sakura groaned at the prospect of her culinary clumsiness captured

 for all eternity. She watched as Tomoyo next brought out a small

 white bag and a set of little silver cones. Handling them with

 respectful care she said,

 

 "This is a piping bag, and these are the nozzles. With a delicate

 finger she pointed to a cone with a slim, tapering opening, and spoke

 in a hushed, reverent tone,

 

 "This is a Saint Honore nozzle. Saint Honore is the Special Saint of

 Pastry Chefs. The dessert we are making was done in his honor." Then,

 she took out a small candy thermometer, a pastry mixer,  and a

 strange, wicked looking whisk, whose rounded ends had been clipped

 off. Looking at Sakura, she asked solemnly,

 

 "Do you have the other ingredients I asked for?"

 

 "Yes, ummmm", Sakura's voice trailed off as she scrambled into the

 kitchen, then rushed back in with the list, reading it breathlessly

 while Tomoyo closed her eyes and listened, "Flour, eggs, sugar,

 butter, milk, heavy cream, powdered sugar, superfine sugar, gelatin,

 cornstarch?" Tomoyo nodded, opened her eyes, and smiled,

 

 "Shall we begin, Sakura-chan?"

 

 Vigorously nodding, Sakura followed her friend into the kitchen.

 With a sinking feeling, she saw the dark-haired girl merrily setting

 up a tripod in a corner. The red light showed the camera was on,

 ready to follow her every blunder. At least it was something only

 Tomoyo would see, and, thankfully, there were no costumes. The girls

 tied on matching aprons and began, Tomoyo directing and Sakura doing

 her best to follow.

 

 "We'll start with the Pate Sucre", Tomoyo sang out. She set the

 pattern by showing Sakura how to do it, and then watching,

 encouraging, and helping her friend along. Sakura took pride in the

 dishes she could cook, but desserts, especially fancy ones, baffled

 her. Watching Tomoyo in the kitchen, she felt a sweet heartache.

 There was a perfect precision in her movements as she sifted and

 rolled and mixed and whisked. Like a ballerina, she whirled and

 dipped and spun her own special magic. Tomoyo had no sense for the

 magic of the Clow Cards, but here, she was the Mistress, the cooking

 tools her Cards. Lightly dusted in the fine, white pastry flour, she

 looked like an angel: calm, watchful, and glowingly beautiful. 

 

 Sakura lightly placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, as if to

 assure herself that this was indeed her friend, and not some

 celestial visitor. Tomoyo glanced up and smiled, placing her hand on

 Sakura's own, then slowly pulling away, their fingers lightly

 interlacing for the briefest second. Sakura caught her breath and

 swallowed hard, a crimson blush tickling her neck and ears. But

 Tomoyo was back to her choux paste, mixing the egg into the crumbly

 dough. Sakura shook her head and tried to remember Tomoyo's

 directions. Peering into the oven as the round base baked to a golden

 sheen, she asked in a puzzled voice,,

 

 "Tomoyo-chan, how can you be sure you can make it rise?" 

 

 Tomoyo turned with a puzzled look and answered, "I'm sorry, I don't

 understand".

 

 "The pastry base we made...how do we make it rise?"

 

 Tomoyo laughed quietly and regarded her friend with thoughtful

 eyes," We can't do anything to make it rise. It has to want to do it

 itself".

 

 Sakura stared back, blinking in quiet incomprehension.

 

 The pale girl joined her at the window of the oven, "It's just like

 flowers, or paintings, or sewing. You can't make it do anything. You

 can only be there for it, to help it be what is wants to be." She

 tilted her head, and smiled. 

 

 Sakura looked at her friend in slow realization of what she meant.

 Tomoyo was so gentle, she would never force anything, be it pastry or

 painting or costume. Or even, she thought with a start, her love.

 Tomoyo had loved her for so long and never spoken, lest Sakura be

 burdened or troubled. She had never tried to control their friendship

 to her advantage, even going so far as to encourage Sakura's crush on

 Yukito-san, and her tentative feelings for Li-kun. Tomoyo had been

 ready to sacrifice her own happiness to ensure Sakura's own. The

 auburn-haired girl felt a shiver as she blinked back the tears.

 

 Tomoyo gazed at the shimmering emerald eyes and felt her own heart

 racing. Sakura lunged at her, staggering her back, hugging her

 tightly. Tomoyo closed her eyes, feeling the trembling form in her

 arms. Had all her hopes and dreams and prayers come true it could not

 have brought a sweeter moment than this. Sakura's love washed over

 her like an ocean wave, knocking her off her feet, swirling and

 eddying in every corner of her being. She smoothed the red-auburn

 hair, straightening a ribbon with nimble fingers. 

 

 Sakura drew back slowly, smiling, blushing, looking dazed and

 slightly embarrassed. Tomoyo smiled at the white flour that now

 powdered the girl's cheek. She reached out her hand, tenderly wiping

 away the flour and the tears. She rested her palm on Sakura's cheek,

 and then lightly caressed the soft skin with her fingertips.

 

 "I love you, Sakura-chan".

 

 Sakura gently enfolded the hand in her own and squeezed tightly. "I

 love you too, Tomoyo". 

 

 Hands clasped, both girls stood transfixed until Tomoyo wrinkled her

 nose and exclaimed, "The pastry base!"

 

 As if choreographed, the two twirled about and saw gray smoke

 billowing from the oven. Quickly donning silver oven mitts, Tomoyo

 opened the door and removed the baking sheet. Coughing in the smoke,

 Sakura stared at the blackened circle.

 

 With a disconsolate look, Tomoyo murmured, "I ruined it". 

 

 Sakura looked sadly at her friend, then suddenly brightened.

 

 "We didn't ruin it. It wanted to burn!"

 

 Tomoyo looked up, smiled, and suddenly began to laugh. Sakura looked

 on in surprise, and then started laughing, too. Neither had laughed

 so hard in a very long time. Gasping for air in the still-smoky

 kitchen, Sakura blurted out,

 

 "We...we better..hee...start another one, hee hee...before oniichan

 gets back...hee..."

 

 Tomoyo, still giggling, nodded, and the two began again.

 

 After the surprisingly delicious noodle dinner, Touya watched Sakura

 and Tomoyo disappear into the kitchen. The two had seemed inseparable

 of late, and he was glad. He liked the pale, dark-haired girl,

 sensing her intense devotion to his sister. He thought to call out

 and ask if Tomoyo had actually cooked the meal, since it was so good,

 but he smiled to himself and kept quiet. After several minutes the

 two girls returned, each carrying one side of a large serving plate.

 They placed the magnificent Saint Honore Pastry on the table before

 him and shouted, "Happy Birthday!"

 

 From his job at the bistro he knew it was a complex dessert that

 only the boldest chefs would attempt. The carmel-dipped buns ringed a

 lake of layered, criss-crossed Crème Chibouste, deftly executed to

 look like ripples on the water. In place of the normal spun sugar

 ball on top sat two delicate pastry swans, gracefully arching necks

 entwined like lovers. Enclosing them was a sparkling, bowl-shaped

 cage of golden carmel. Amazed that they could create such a work, he

 glanced up at them. Like two swans, the girls nestled together, hand

 in hand, expectantly awaiting his reaction. He smiled, and understood.

 

 "It's beautiful."

 

 And it was.