rlm@2: "Ouch!" Sakura shook her finger in the air and then sucked on the
rlm@2: fingertip, tasting the salty tang of her own blood. How did Tomoyo do
rlm@2: all that sewing without ending up like a pincushion? Smiling
rlm@2: ruefully, she realized that her sewing skills were lacking because
rlm@2: she always depended on Tomoyo, her father, and even her brother for
rlm@2: most thread and needlework. She could mend a tear and put on a patch,
rlm@2: but the tailoring that her best friend did was simply beyond her. She
rlm@2: remembered early on as a Cardcaptor peeking into a company van and
rlm@2: seeing the spectacular wardrobe Tomoyo had prepared for her.  At the
rlm@2: time, she concluded the massive resources of the Daidouji household,
rlm@2: or even Daidouji Toys, Ltd., had been marshaled and deployed to clad
rlm@2: her in a parade of kawaii regalia. Only later did she learn that
rlm@2: Tomoyo did every stitch herself. Through the years that followed, the
rlm@2: two girls spent hours together, talking and drinking tea while Tomoyo
rlm@2: fitted and altered the amazing creations. Being with the little
rlm@2: seamstress made precious an experience that would otherwise have been
rlm@2: tedious as Sakura stretched and posed while Tomoyo snipped and sewed.
rlm@2: For the Card Mistress it was a chance to talk about her loves and
rlm@2: fears and joys while the dark-haired girl listened, solemn and cheery
rlm@2: in turn. Tomoyo was as careful with her heart as with the delicate
rlm@2: fabrics that made up the costumes, and her carefully considered
rlm@2: advice and reassurance helped Sakura through many a difficult time.
rlm@2: As she sewed a strip of satin to trim the hem of the little yellow
rlm@2: dress Tomoyo had left in Hong Kong, Sakura began to grasp the
rlm@2: countless hours of labor that the quiet, pale girl had spent just to
rlm@2: make her look special.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Again she remembered that truck full of outfits Tomoyo unveiled
rlm@2: before they went to capture the Shadow card. There was a spectacular
rlm@2: array of over 50 costumes that ranged from the cute to the dramatic,
rlm@2: with the occasional practical piece thrown in for good measure. After
rlm@2: the terrifying exertions of capturing Shadow, Sakura had asked Tomoyo
rlm@2: how she got so many costumes ready so quickly. Tomoyo smiled
rlm@2: enigmatically and replied,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Oh, I've been working on them for over a year".
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura gave the girl a baffled look and blurted out, "But you only
rlm@2: found out about me and Clow Cards a few days ago."
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Tomoyo tilted her head, lavender hair blending into the dark,
rlm@2: moonless night as she answered in a musical voice, "I've always known
rlm@2: Sakura-chan was a magical girl.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura merely sweatdropped, dismissing this as one of her adoring
rlm@2: friend's many eccentricities. But now, years later, she was quietly
rlm@2: astonished. Long before the creations of Clow Reed had found her,
rlm@2: Tomoyo saw her as magical. Not for her power, or the cards she
rlm@2: captured, but for herself. Sakura smiled as she worked the needle
rlm@2: carefully through the gossamer material. From the day they met in
rlm@2: that third grade classroom, Tomoyo's love had been ever-present,
rlm@2: wrapped around Sakura’s heart like a comforting cocoon. She was
rlm@2: always special to the sapphire-eyed girl, long before she was the
rlm@2: Mistress of the Cards. Sakura paused, puzzled, the silver needle
rlm@2: poised in midair as she softly whispered,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "It's as if I was always her special person". She felt her face
rlm@2: flush scarlet: that wonderful flustery feeling of being loved by
rlm@2: Tomoyo. How she missed that in Hong Kong. The longing grew worse
rlm@2: every day without her. The ache in her breast was finally assuaged by
rlm@2: that enchanting visit, but her heart shattered watching the aircraft
rlm@2: spirit Tomoyo away. Her special person. Sakura stared at the fabric
rlm@2: in her lap, the last, unfinished design of her best friend. With a
rlm@2: grin, she shook her head and thought a little sadly, oh, to be her
rlm@2: special person for just one day! Sakura had been slow to realize the
rlm@2: depths of Tomoyo's love. Only distance, which clove the two friends
rlm@2: as nothing before, revealed how cruel separation could be. Without
rlm@2: the constant presence of that fulsome love, Sakura felt hopelessly
rlm@2: adrift. She tumbled into dark despair, with only her unrealized love
rlm@2: to light the way. Glowing like a little candle in the blackest night,
rlm@2: that love for Tomoyo finally blazed forth when she at last understood
rlm@2: her heart. And though she was not Tomoyo's special someone, that did
rlm@2: not affect her own love in the least. Even if Tomoyo did end up
rlm@2: happily with her special person, Sakura's love would shine forth like
rlm@2: a beacon through the pain of not having her. I'll love her no matter
rlm@2: what, she thought to herself. But I'll die if she leaves me.  
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Remembering the chilling farewell in Tomoyo’s last letter, Sakura
rlm@2: teetered on the brink of tears. If she leaves me. Taking a deep
rlm@2: breath, Sakura buried the thought, for she could not face such a
rlm@2: wretched possibility. "Buttons", she said suddenly, "I need buttons
rlm@2: for this dress".  Rising, she carefully placed the dress on the desk,
rlm@2: slipping off the thimble and absent-mindedly massaging her pin-
rlm@2: pricked hands. Stretching, she felt the fatigue fall from her body as
rlm@2: muscles tensed and relaxed. The buttons would be upstairs, in the
rlm@2: attic, with the sewing supplies she had packed away before moving to
rlm@2: Hong Kong. She walked from the room, down the hall past her sleeping
rlm@2: brother, and climbed the ladder to the trap door. Emerging into the
rlm@2: darkness, she carefully felt her way along the wall and then
rlm@2: hesitated as a fear of the dark bubbled up from long ago. Slowly
rlm@2: letting out a breath she grimaced, ashamed at such a childish worry.
rlm@2: Inching her way forward, her nimble fingers finally brushed against
rlm@2: the light switch and clicked it on. The naked bulb starkly
rlm@2: illuminated the maze of tightly stacked boxes and trunks. Sakura
rlm@2: realized her father or brother had rearranged things since she left,
rlm@2: for the sewing things were nowhere to be seen. 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: With a shrug she began to move boxes, coughing in the billowing
rlm@2: dust. Finally, on the verge of giving up, she uncovered a small
rlm@2: shoebox with the word, "notions" written on the side. The writing
rlm@2: puzzled her, for she did not recognize the almost childish script.
rlm@2: With a tug, she pulled it out from the little nook it was wedged
rlm@2: into. Opening the lid, she found a box full of buttons- perfect! She
rlm@2: smiled and carried the little treasure over to the light, examining
rlm@2: the varied circles and squares of plastic and metal. Spilling some
rlm@2: out onto the lid, she nodded happily. These would do just fine. Then,
rlm@2: Sakura's attention was caught by something at the bottom. She poured
rlm@2: more buttons out in a little pile, and gingerly pulled out a faded
rlm@2: photograph. 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: The colors had washed out over the years, but the figures were
rlm@2: instantly recognizable. Tomoyo’s mother was dressed in a schoolgirl's
rlm@2: sailor suit. Draped over the young Sonomi was Sakura's mother,
rlm@2: similarly clad in a dark blue dress, a red bow around her collar.
rlm@2: With one arm she embraced her cousin, while the other was held up,
rlm@2: triumphantly showing two bandaged fingers in a little "V" for
rlm@2: victory. Both girls were smiling merrily, surrounded by the supplies
rlm@2: and equipment of what looked like a Home Economics classroom. Sakura
rlm@2: turned the picture over, and written in that same childish
rlm@2: handwriting that adorned the box were four lines:
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Hiroji-sensei's class
rlm@2: 7th grade
rlm@2: I passed!
rlm@2: Thank you, Sonomi-chan"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: The back was decorated with odd little doodles of hearts and
rlm@2: flowers. Sakura looked again at the picture and smiled, thanking her
rlm@2: mother for the little present that had waited so patiently. Tomoyo's
rlm@2: costume could have no better buttons than these. Emptying them back
rlm@2: into the box, the auburn-haired woman carefully placed the photograph
rlm@2: on top and replaced the lid, tucking the package under her arm.
rlm@2: Turning off the light, she moved to the entranceway of the attic and
rlm@2: climbed down to the hall. Returning to her room, she placed the
rlm@2: shoebox on the desk, took up the fabric and began to sew again. She
rlm@2: was startled when a familiar voice called out from the shadows behind
rlm@2: her,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "What are you doing?"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: She turned quickly, and saw Syaoran standing up against the wall,
rlm@2: arms crossed and scowling. She rose and took one step towards him,
rlm@2: but something in his manner froze her. In a meek tone she answered,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before I left, but I had to hurry. I
rlm@2: called Ieran-sama when my flight arrived. Didn't she tell you"?
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Syaoran looked away with barely suppressed anger, as if he were
rlm@2: addressing a hopelessly slow child. Then he nodded to the pile of
rlm@2: fabric on the floor and impatiently repeated himself, "What-are-you-
rlm@2: doing"?
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Oh", Sakura glanced at the dress she had dropped to the floor. She
rlm@2: scurried to pick it up, and held it in front of her husband. Her
rlm@2: smile faltered as he recoiled in horror at the unfinished costume he
rlm@2: had seen in his Mother’s magic. He yelled at her,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: “Put that damn thing away. Where did you get it? What is it?”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Neatly folding the costume, she placed it back on the desk, then
rlm@2: faced Syaoran, her hands held to her breast as she replied,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "I, I wanted to make something for Tomoyo-chan. Well, actually, she
rlm@2: made it, the design, I mean, I could never do something like this.
rlm@2: And she started it, but because of the wedding dress being the last
rlm@2: thing she would make for me she didn't finish, and I thought I could,
rlm@2: well, finish it for her, and I found some of mother's buttons in the
rlm@2: attic and..." Her voice trailed off into silence. Caught by her
rlm@2: husband's withering stare, she felt small and foolish.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: As he calmed down, Syaoran struggled to keep his sense of gravity.
rlm@2: As if impressed by his own cleverness, he sneered, “I knew that crazy
rlm@2: girl had something to do with all this. All right, get your things
rlm@2: together and let’s go.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: But instead of compliance, Sakura stood with her hands clasped and
rlm@2: head bowed. Syaoran stepped towards her, irritated at this unusual
rlm@2: hesitation. In a soft but firm voice she broke the silence, “I’m not
rlm@2: going. I have to see Tomoyo-chan”.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: He stopped short, flabbergasted. All he could manage was a hoarse,
rlm@2: “What”?
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura looked up at him, jade eyes flashing a fiery determination he
rlm@2: had rarely seen since the days of card capturing. But her voice was
rlm@2: calm as she continued, “Tomoyo-chan said she is going to leave. I
rlm@2: have to see her.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: The future Head of the House of Li frowned, struggling to suppress
rlm@2: his anger. He snapped at the woman within arm’s reach, “You can call
rlm@2: her on the phone, or write one of your silly letters. We’re going
rlm@2: home- now”. 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura looked at the floor and slowly shook her head. He felt a wild
rlm@2: urge to strike her, to slap the defiance out of her. Barely in
rlm@2: control of his raging emotions he spluttered, “I can’t believe I’m
rlm@2: hearing this. What kind of garbage did she fill your head up with”?
rlm@2: He paused, and drew a deep breath. This was not like his complacent
rlm@2: wife at all. Very well. The chivalrous husband would try a new tack
rlm@2: and forgive his erring wife. He pronounced in a patronizing and
rlm@2: reassuring tone, “Now let me help you with your bags and we can talk
rlm@2: about it on the plane.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: But Sakura looked up at him, earnestly gazing at his face. Finally,
rlm@2: she said simply, “No”.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Fists clenched, shaking with fury, he turned his back on her,
rlm@2: shaking with rage. How dare she defy him! After running off to Japan,
rlm@2: wasting money they did not have, and now refusing to obey. Unable to
rlm@2: contain his anger, he slammed his fist into the door, nearly rattling
rlm@2: it off the hinges. “Damn it!” he yelled, “Who do you think you are?”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Whirling to face her, falling into a fighting stance, his mind raced
rlm@2: out of control. But the young woman simply stood before him, calm and
rlm@2: unafraid.  Suddenly there came a knock on the door, and a male voice
rlm@2: called out, “Sakura-chan, what’s going on?” The door opened, and a
rlm@2: pajama-clad Touya peered into the room. Seeing Syaoran, he frowned,
rlm@2: and then looked carefully at his younger sister. In as neutral a
rlm@2: voice as he could manage he asked, 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: “Do you need any help”?
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura relaxed, smiled, shook her head and answered sweetly, “No,
rlm@2: everything is fine. I’m sorry we woke you up. We’ll be more quiet”. 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Touya shot another warning look at his least favorite brother-in-law
rlm@2: before sizing up the seemingly unconcerned young woman. “OK”, he
rlm@2: spoke in his usual laconic voice, as if such domestic squabbles
rlm@2: around the house at 3 A.M were the norm, “But you call me if you need
rlm@2: me. Goodnight.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: When the door closed, the two stood silent, facing each other for
rlm@2: the longest time. Finally, with an exasperated sigh Syaoran fixed his
rlm@2: wayward wife with a hard stare. His voice was commanding, even
rlm@2: patronizing, as if he would no longer brook her exasperating
rlm@2: insolence, 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: “Sakura, you have to make choices in life. You have to have
rlm@2: priorities. You’re a big girl now, married to the future Head of the
rlm@2: House of Li. I can’t have you running off every time some loopy girl
rlm@2: from the past calls you on the phone. You just can’t do this sort of
rlm@2: thing. It makes me look ridiculous. Tomoeda was nice, but it’s all
rlm@2: over now. You have a new life, with me You’re going to have to choose
rlm@2: between your friend and your true love. Now, go get your things and
rlm@2: we’ll forget all about this”. 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: At first Sakura looked at him with surprise, and then stared at the
rlm@2: floor. The Chinese sorcerer smiled as he detected the glint of tears
rlm@2: welling in her eyes. She looked deep in thought, and after a moment
rlm@2: looked up at him with wet and sparkling eyes. Her voice was brimming
rlm@2: with emotion as she spoke,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: “I’m sorry, Syaoran-chan. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I
rlm@2: guess I knew the choice would come someday soon, just not this soon.
rlm@2: If only I’d known. I’m so sorry.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: The tears coursed down her cheeks as she stood miserably before him.
rlm@2: Well, he thought, at least she’s speaking sense now. He almost felt
rlm@2: pity for her, though his anger was still too fresh and raw for that.
rlm@2: He did care for her, though at times like this love was an ordeal.
rlm@2: Still, he would find it in his heart to forgive her. But he would
rlm@2: make sure she never saw or talked or wrote to that crazy Daidouji
rlm@2: woman ever again. Syaoran’s quiet voice brimmed with magniminity for
rlm@2: a defeated foe, “Come on Sakura-chan. Let’s go home.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: But the woman did not move, looking at him sadly as she spoke, “I’m
rlm@2: not going.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Too baffled to be angry, he gawked at her, mouth open as if his
rlm@2: words were frozen in mid-sentence. Sakura shook her head and spoke
rlm@2: almost pleadingly,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: “It’s my fault. I should have known my own feelings. If I had, all
rlm@2: this would never have happened. I’ve hurt so many people: you, your
rlm@2: mother, Meiling-chan, Tomoyo-chan. All because I was too stupid to
rlm@2: know what was in my heart.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Syaoran could only stare in disbelief as the woman hugged herself
rlm@2: tightly for reassurance before continuing, 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: “Syaoran-chan, you were always one of my very best friends. I
rlm@2: couldn’t have done what I did with the cards without you. It meant so
rlm@2: much to me that we were together. And I do love you, as a friend
rlm@2: forever in my heart. But now I know my true love is Tomoyo-chan. I’ve
rlm@2: loved her all along, but just didn’t understand. Not until last
rlm@2: night. Last night. That’s only a day ago.” The woman looked stunned
rlm@2: as she said this, as if an entire life had been lived in only 24
rlm@2: hours. After a brief smile, she spoke again,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: “Last night I finally realized who I love. My one, true love. My
rlm@2: special person. She was so close for so long that I never knew until
rlm@2: she was gone. I could have saved everyone so much pain if I knew.” 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Pain. Syaoran felt it in a wave, as helpless as when Meiling
rlm@2: connected with his solar plexus earlier that day. Staring at his wife
rlm@2: in dumb incomprehension, he managed to croak out,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: “But Sakura, I love you.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: She looked at him, and he had the uncomfortable sensation that with
rlm@2: her magic she could see straight to his heart. She smiled and asked
rlm@2: gently, “Do you really love me Syaoran, like that? It really hasn’t
rlm@2: felt that way. Not like I thought it would. Not like what I feel from
rlm@2: her.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Indignant and righteous, he made ready to protest. But the auburn-
rlm@2: haired woman held up her hand and commanded his silence. A sudden
rlm@2: wave of something ineffable washed over them both, a shuddering,
rlm@2: prickly sensation that enveloped him like a living fog. He stared at
rlm@2: his wife, for somehow she was changed. It was as if all the magic
rlm@2: were drained out of her like water in broken crockery. She stood
rlm@2: before him, not the Mistress of the Cards, but as little Kinomoto
rlm@2: Sakura, sweet, genki, and horribly ordinary. Her voice was the same
rlm@2: he had heard on a playground long ago, when the Cards were in the
rlm@2: air, and a Japanese schoolgirl had just begun her long journey,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: “You loved Yukito once, like I did. But when my powers grew greater
rlm@2: than his, then your affection for me did, too. Do you really love me,
rlm@2: Syaoran-chan? If I was just plain old Sakura, would you still love me
rlm@2: then?”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: He recoiled at the sight. Stripped her magical glamour she seemed
rlm@2: small and weak. Where was the enchanting woman he had married? Where
rlm@2: was the successor to the famed Clow Reed? Was this some illusion, a
rlm@2: doppelganger that had abducted his precious wife and substituted some
rlm@2: bland and pathetic double? He began to speak, to accuse and threaten
rlm@2: this alien presence, when he heard Sakura’s voice, distant yet
rlm@2: familiar. She stared at him, his mind hers to know. Sadly shaking her
rlm@2: head, she quietly spoke,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2:  “ I’m not an illusion. It’s just me. It’s just me without my magic.
rlm@2: It’s who I really am. But I don’t think it’s who you really love. Do
rlm@2: you? Do you really love me, Syaoran-chan?”
rlm@2:  
rlm@2: He felt sick as he looked at her. She was nothing, a nobody. In a
rlm@2: bitter tone he declared, “You sound just like Mother.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura let out a little sigh and the two stood silent. Finally, she
rlm@2: spoke in a voice etched with the pain of a new found knowledge,
rlm@2: “Ieran-sama is very wise. For all my power, she is much wiser than
rlm@2: me. She was right, Syaoran-chan. We don’t belong together. Now I know
rlm@2: that she didn’t really hate me. She just wanted what was best for
rlm@2: everyone. Even me.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: With that he looked up and saw her as he knew her, energy flooding
rlm@2: back, filling her pure power. In fear and awe he beheld her, once
rlm@2: again the dread Mistress of the Cards. He reeled backwards, confused
rlm@2: and frightened, his mother’s mocking voice blaring inside his head.
rlm@2: He held his hands to his temples as her piecing words echoed, “You
rlm@2: don’t love her. You love her power.” He felt helpless, a rag doll in
rlm@2: the hands of a blind and savage Fate. Struggling to regain his calm,
rlm@2: he leaned against the wall and whimpered. Sakura stood with her hands
rlm@2: at her side, unable to comfort her shattered husband. Finally he
rlm@2: composed himself enough to turn and face her. He was no man’s fool.
rlm@2: He was not to be trifled with. Trembling, he took an envelope from
rlm@2: his pocket, opened it, and placed a ticket on the nearby dresser. His
rlm@2: face was blank as he spoke,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: “I’m leaving. If you are not on this plane when it departs, then
rlm@2: don’t bother coming back again. Ever.” He felt a surge of power, as
rlm@2: if he, and not this stupid and dangerous woman, was in control. She
rlm@2: bowed low, her sad, verdant eyes locked with his as she answered
rlm@2: softly,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: “Hai, Syaoran. Sayonara.”
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: He strode for the door, and then stopped. Turning quickly, he gaped
rlm@2: at her, his face twisted with loathing. He spat out the bitter words,
rlm@2: “I don’t love you. I hate you.” Then he walked through the door and
rlm@2: shut it firmly.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: For a long time, Sakura stared at the closed door. Syaoran’s parting
rlm@2: words stung her, even though she knew they were not true. Consumed
rlm@2: with anger, his words spilled, tainted and colored by out-of-control
rlm@2: emotions. But part of what he said was true: he did not love her. Or,
rlm@2: rather, he loved her as a friend, and no more. Oddly, this was great
rlm@2: consolation for the shattered woman, who saw her marriage of months
rlm@2: implode in minutes. Had Syaoran truly loved her, she would have been
rlm@2: chained to a marriage that was a terrible mistake. For thousands of
rlm@2: years, women have borne loveless matches, and Sakura would have been
rlm@2: one among millions of sad and broken hearts.  Perhaps she could have
rlm@2: found some happiness in children, or teaching, or even magic, all
rlm@2: while her heart longed for her true love. Or she might have died
rlm@2: slowly, longing for a love she could never have. Even leaving him
rlm@2: later was a stark possibility, and could only have made things worse
rlm@2: with the passage of time. 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: With a sigh, Sakura sat at her desk and again took up sewing. The
rlm@2: rhythm of needle and thread calmed her heart, for there was stillness
rlm@2: in the motion of every stitch. Suddenly she flinched as the needle
rlm@2: pricked her finger. Gazing at her hand, she put her work on the table
rlm@2: and slipped off the golden wedding ring. Placing it by the ticket on
rlm@2: the desk, she thought, I'll send it to him later. She stared at her
rlm@2: now bare finger. The ring came off so easily, as if their marriage
rlm@2: had never been. But that was not quite true either, for much had
rlm@2: happened in married life  she did not regret, and would never forget.
rlm@2: Picking up the yellow dress and sewing again, she recalled the
rlm@2: exquisite anticipation of her wedding day, and the mystery of the
rlm@2: night that followed. To be in Syaoran’s company, if not quite love,
rlm@2: was pleasant, the companionship of two good friends. "It was my fault
rlm@2: for wanting it to be more, for not knowing my own feelings", she
rlm@2: whispered sadly. Curiously, Sakura felt no regret for the end of her
rlm@2: marriage. But she did feel sorry for the pain she brought Sayoran,
rlm@2: and knew that regret would never leave her.  
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Paradoxically, the greatest gift of her marriage was the misery of
rlm@2: being without Tomoyo. Growing up with the girl, she came to take her
rlm@2: amazing presence for granted. Being so close to that dazzling spirit
rlm@2: had blinded Sakura to her own true feelings. Only in Hong Kong did
rlm@2: she learn the hard lesson of what Tomoyo meant to her. When marriage
rlm@2: pulled them apart, she finally saw that life without the azure-eyed
rlm@2: girl was simply impossible. Accepting Syaoran's proposal, she prayed
rlm@2: marriage would bring her love. It did, but in a way completely
rlm@2: unforseen. Marriage was a strange path leading her far away, yet
rlm@2: bringing her back to where she started. But oh, how diffreent things
rlm@2: were now! When she left, Tomoyo was her friend. But tonight, as her
rlm@2: marriage ended, Tomoyo was her one, true love. And tommorow she would
rlm@2: see her again.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura felt awash in giddy anticipation. Freedom swept her soul like
rlm@2: a gentle zephyr, a whipsering wind of possibilities and hope. Soon
rlm@2: she would see Tomoyo, lay her love at the dark-haired girl's feet,
rlm@2: and beg her to stay. She gigled, wondering about the woman's reaction
rlm@2: to so stunning a revelation. Perhaps she could never take the place
rlm@2: of that special someone in her friend's gentle heart. But just to be
rlm@2: with her, to feel Tomoyo's love again was enough. Even more, Sakura
rlm@2: wanted to make her happy, to heal the pain in those azure eyes. "I'll
rlm@2: give her everything I have", she thought, stitching the last button
rlm@2: into place, "though she already has my heart." 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: With that, she held up the costume, admiring the work. Well,
rlm@2: admiring Tomoyo's work, anyway, perfect as always. Her own
rlm@2: contribution was flawed: an uneven line here, a too-big button hole
rlm@2: there. But it was her work, and now the costume was theirs. Lovingly
rlm@2: she folded the silken fabric, and suddenly felt very, very  tired.
rlm@2: Resting her head on the desk she whispered dreamily, "Tommorow.
rlm@2: Tommorow  I'll see her. I'll see my angel."
rlm@2: 
rlm@2:  And so, sleep came at last.  
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: