rlm@2: Fruits Candy
rlm@2: A Sakura and Tomoyo Story
rlm@2: By G. P.
rlm@2: Please send comments to treeandleaf2002@yahoo.com
rlm@2: Note: All characters depicted herein are property of CLAMP. This
rlm@2: work in no way is meant to infringe on those rights.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: This is story is part of a continuing series, though it can also be
rlm@2: read alone. The previous stories in the series are:
rlm@2: 1. Love is the Crooked Thing
rlm@2: 2. First Date
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Gazing out the window, Sakura caught sight of the long, black
rlm@2: Cadillac pulling up to the curb. With clipped, almost military
rlm@2: motions, a female bodyguard dressed in a severe, slate-gray dress
rlm@2: popped out and opened the back passenger door. Tomoyo emerged,
rlm@2: dressed in a simple cobalt-blue dress, her gray-black hair in two
rlm@2: long braids, tied at the ends with pink ribbons. Sakura felt her
rlm@2: heart flutter at the sight, and blushed deeply. She was still
rlm@2: adjusting to the notion of Tomoyo-chan as something more than her
rlm@2: very best friend. Like a double thunderclap, Tomoyo's love for her,
rlm@2: and her own love for Tomoyo, had come as explosive revelations, one
rlm@2: after another. 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: She still felt deafened by the shock, a bit confused and
rlm@2: disoriented. In some ways, nothing had changed. Tomoyo especially
rlm@2: seemed as she always had: bright, cheerful, kind, and helpful. But
rlm@2: Sakura was sometimes uneasy in her presence in a way she had never
rlm@2: felt before. Sometimes, sitting by her in class or at lunch, she felt
rlm@2: buffeted by a strange whorl of emotions. She knew now that those
rlm@2: emotions had always been there, laying unrecognized in her heart,
rlm@2: waiting. When she finally saw that Tomoyo liked her- like that, her
rlm@2: own feelings were at last unfettered. As the leaves fell and the
rlm@2: nights grew chill with winter, Sakura had struggled with the dilemma
rlm@2: of how to love her best friend.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Tomoyo stepped lightly up to the door, carrying a canvas bag with a
rlm@2: picture of a French flag on the side. Sakura sprang to the door,
rlm@2: opening it as she approached. 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Konichiwa, Tomoyo-chan!"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Konichiwa, Sakura-chan!" She took Sakura by the hand and smiled,
rlm@2: "Thank you for inviting me to your house."
rlm@2: 
rlm@2:  "No, thank you for coming. My father is at a Conference for the
rlm@2: weekend and won't be here, so I wanted to make a special dessert for
rlm@2: oniichan tonight. You're just so much better at it than me."
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Tomoyo looked aghast, "But Sakura-chan, you make beautiful things.
rlm@2: The cake you baked for your father was wonderful".
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "All the same, I'm glad you're here. Would you like some tea?"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Oh, yes, thank you. Shall I help?"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura smiled, nodded, and went to boil the water as Tomoyo gathered
rlm@2: up the cups and napkins. It was just like her. She was helpful and
rlm@2: considerate in such a natural way that you were sometimes unaware of
rlm@2: what a gracious friend she was. Sakura broke the silence,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "How is your Mother?"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Oh, she is very well, thank you. She was talking about you the
rlm@2: other day".
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura tilted her head quizzically.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Tomoyo smiled, and continued, "I showed her the videotape of your
rlm@2: race from the school festival. She watched it so many times that I
rlm@2: had to make a copy for her before the tape wore out." Tomoyo
rlm@2: suppressed what seemed to be a giggle,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "She said you have great potential as a runner, but will need work
rlm@2: on your technique. She said your father should teach you, but if he
rlm@2: is too busy she would be happy to coach you."
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: At the prospect of running like Sonomi, Sakura brightened visibly.
rlm@2: Almost leaping from her chair, her eyes glistening at the prospect,
rlm@2: she blurted out, 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Really? That is so nice of her! I would love to run like that!"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Tomoyo touched her cheek with her hand and gazed adoringly at her
rlm@2: friend. In physical activity, in track and gymnastics and swimming,
rlm@2: Sakura was like some beautiful, feline animal, coiled power exploding
rlm@2: with easy grace. No wonder she made such an exquisite Card Captor!
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura caught the pale girl's look and blushed. Tomoyo was
rlm@2: so....eccentric. Even knowing they were now more than best friends,
rlm@2: her adoration still stirred a strange mix of feelings: embarrassment,
rlm@2: shyness, and a delightful sense of being utterly loved. Sakura put
rlm@2: her hand behind the back of her head and laughed in an odd voice,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Ha-ha-ha, um, should we begin the dessert?"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Tomoyo nodded, all smiles, and began to open the large canvas bag.
rlm@2: Sakura watched, her curiosity aflame. First out of the mysterious bag
rlm@2: was....the video camera. She felt the welling of a sweat drop. Tomoyo
rlm@2: laughed and said,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: " To film with, and to help you study your technique". 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura groaned at the prospect of her culinary clumsiness captured
rlm@2: for all eternity. She watched as Tomoyo next brought out a small
rlm@2: white bag and a set of little silver cones. Handling them with
rlm@2: respectful care she said,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "This is a piping bag, and these are the nozzles. With a delicate
rlm@2: finger she pointed to a cone with a slim, tapering opening, and spoke
rlm@2: in a hushed, reverent tone,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "This is a Saint Honore nozzle. Saint Honore is the Special Saint of
rlm@2: Pastry Chefs. The dessert we are making was done in his honor." Then,
rlm@2: she took out a small candy thermometer, a pastry mixer,  and a
rlm@2: strange, wicked looking whisk, whose rounded ends had been clipped
rlm@2: off. Looking at Sakura, she asked solemnly,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Do you have the other ingredients I asked for?"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Yes, ummmm", Sakura's voice trailed off as she scrambled into the
rlm@2: kitchen, then rushed back in with the list, reading it breathlessly
rlm@2: while Tomoyo closed her eyes and listened, "Flour, eggs, sugar,
rlm@2: butter, milk, heavy cream, powdered sugar, superfine sugar, gelatin,
rlm@2: cornstarch?" Tomoyo nodded, opened her eyes, and smiled,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Shall we begin, Sakura-chan?"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Vigorously nodding, Sakura followed her friend into the kitchen.
rlm@2: With a sinking feeling, she saw the dark-haired girl merrily setting
rlm@2: up a tripod in a corner. The red light showed the camera was on,
rlm@2: ready to follow her every blunder. At least it was something only
rlm@2: Tomoyo would see, and, thankfully, there were no costumes. The girls
rlm@2: tied on matching aprons and began, Tomoyo directing and Sakura doing
rlm@2: her best to follow.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "We'll start with the Pate Sucre", Tomoyo sang out. She set the
rlm@2: pattern by showing Sakura how to do it, and then watching,
rlm@2: encouraging, and helping her friend along. Sakura took pride in the
rlm@2: dishes she could cook, but desserts, especially fancy ones, baffled
rlm@2: her. Watching Tomoyo in the kitchen, she felt a sweet heartache.
rlm@2: There was a perfect precision in her movements as she sifted and
rlm@2: rolled and mixed and whisked. Like a ballerina, she whirled and
rlm@2: dipped and spun her own special magic. Tomoyo had no sense for the
rlm@2: magic of the Clow Cards, but here, she was the Mistress, the cooking
rlm@2: tools her Cards. Lightly dusted in the fine, white pastry flour, she
rlm@2: looked like an angel: calm, watchful, and glowingly beautiful. 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura lightly placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, as if to
rlm@2: assure herself that this was indeed her friend, and not some
rlm@2: celestial visitor. Tomoyo glanced up and smiled, placing her hand on
rlm@2: Sakura's own, then slowly pulling away, their fingers lightly
rlm@2: interlacing for the briefest second. Sakura caught her breath and
rlm@2: swallowed hard, a crimson blush tickling her neck and ears. But
rlm@2: Tomoyo was back to her choux paste, mixing the egg into the crumbly
rlm@2: dough. Sakura shook her head and tried to remember Tomoyo's
rlm@2: directions. Peering into the oven as the round base baked to a golden
rlm@2: sheen, she asked in a puzzled voice,,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "Tomoyo-chan, how can you be sure you can make it rise?" 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Tomoyo turned with a puzzled look and answered, "I'm sorry, I don't
rlm@2: understand".
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "The pastry base we made...how do we make it rise?"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Tomoyo laughed quietly and regarded her friend with thoughtful
rlm@2: eyes," We can't do anything to make it rise. It has to want to do it
rlm@2: itself".
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura stared back, blinking in quiet incomprehension.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: The pale girl joined her at the window of the oven, "It's just like
rlm@2: flowers, or paintings, or sewing. You can't make it do anything. You
rlm@2: can only be there for it, to help it be what is wants to be." She
rlm@2: tilted her head, and smiled. 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura looked at her friend in slow realization of what she meant.
rlm@2: Tomoyo was so gentle, she would never force anything, be it pastry or
rlm@2: painting or costume. Or even, she thought with a start, her love.
rlm@2: Tomoyo had loved her for so long and never spoken, lest Sakura be
rlm@2: burdened or troubled. She had never tried to control their friendship
rlm@2: to her advantage, even going so far as to encourage Sakura's crush on
rlm@2: Yukito-san, and her tentative feelings for Li-kun. Tomoyo had been
rlm@2: ready to sacrifice her own happiness to ensure Sakura's own. The
rlm@2: auburn-haired girl felt a shiver as she blinked back the tears.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Tomoyo gazed at the shimmering emerald eyes and felt her own heart
rlm@2: racing. Sakura lunged at her, staggering her back, hugging her
rlm@2: tightly. Tomoyo closed her eyes, feeling the trembling form in her
rlm@2: arms. Had all her hopes and dreams and prayers come true it could not
rlm@2: have brought a sweeter moment than this. Sakura's love washed over
rlm@2: her like an ocean wave, knocking her off her feet, swirling and
rlm@2: eddying in every corner of her being. She smoothed the red-auburn
rlm@2: hair, straightening a ribbon with nimble fingers. 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura drew back slowly, smiling, blushing, looking dazed and
rlm@2: slightly embarrassed. Tomoyo smiled at the white flour that now
rlm@2: powdered the girl's cheek. She reached out her hand, tenderly wiping
rlm@2: away the flour and the tears. She rested her palm on Sakura's cheek,
rlm@2: and then lightly caressed the soft skin with her fingertips.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "I love you, Sakura-chan".
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura gently enfolded the hand in her own and squeezed tightly. "I
rlm@2: love you too, Tomoyo". 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Hands clasped, both girls stood transfixed until Tomoyo wrinkled her
rlm@2: nose and exclaimed, "The pastry base!"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: As if choreographed, the two twirled about and saw gray smoke
rlm@2: billowing from the oven. Quickly donning silver oven mitts, Tomoyo
rlm@2: opened the door and removed the baking sheet. Coughing in the smoke,
rlm@2: Sakura stared at the blackened circle.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: With a disconsolate look, Tomoyo murmured, "I ruined it". 
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Sakura looked sadly at her friend, then suddenly brightened.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "We didn't ruin it. It wanted to burn!"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Tomoyo looked up, smiled, and suddenly began to laugh. Sakura looked
rlm@2: on in surprise, and then started laughing, too. Neither had laughed
rlm@2: so hard in a very long time. Gasping for air in the still-smoky
rlm@2: kitchen, Sakura blurted out,
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "We...we better..hee...start another one, hee hee...before oniichan
rlm@2: gets back...hee..."
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: Tomoyo, still giggling, nodded, and the two began again.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: After the surprisingly delicious noodle dinner, Touya watched Sakura
rlm@2: and Tomoyo disappear into the kitchen. The two had seemed inseparable
rlm@2: of late, and he was glad. He liked the pale, dark-haired girl,
rlm@2: sensing her intense devotion to his sister. He thought to call out
rlm@2: and ask if Tomoyo had actually cooked the meal, since it was so good,
rlm@2: but he smiled to himself and kept quiet. After several minutes the
rlm@2: two girls returned, each carrying one side of a large serving plate.
rlm@2: They placed the magnificent Saint Honore Pastry on the table before
rlm@2: him and shouted, "Happy Birthday!"
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: From his job at the bistro he knew it was a complex dessert that
rlm@2: only the boldest chefs would attempt. The carmel-dipped buns ringed a
rlm@2: lake of layered, criss-crossed Crème Chibouste, deftly executed to
rlm@2: look like ripples on the water. In place of the normal spun sugar
rlm@2: ball on top sat two delicate pastry swans, gracefully arching necks
rlm@2: entwined like lovers. Enclosing them was a sparkling, bowl-shaped
rlm@2: cage of golden carmel. Amazed that they could create such a work, he
rlm@2: glanced up at them. Like two swans, the girls nestled together, hand
rlm@2: in hand, expectantly awaiting his reaction. He smiled, and understood.
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: "It's beautiful."
rlm@2: 
rlm@2: And it was.      
rlm@2: 
rlm@2:   
rlm@2: