Dear Sakura by Amazoness Duo and G.P. amazonessduo@hotmail.com pearsong1954@yahoo.com “I’m sorry I kept you up all night dancing, Tomoyo-chan. I hope you’re not too tired.” Sakura cast a concerned look as she unlocked the front door. Tomoyo smiled a cheerful response, “Oh, no, Sakura-chan, I feel absolutely wonderful. Thank you for such a lovely evening, and such a lovely visit.” As the door swung open Sakura nodded distractedly and thought, “That’s right, the visit is almost over now.” She hid her grimace from Tomoyo and tried to bring her emotions under control. Buffeted all evening long, swinging between the sheer bliss of being with Tomoyo and the black despair of knowing she would soon be gone, Sakura felt sickeningly dizzy. Sakura sensed the turmoil deep within her stirring again, but sealed it away and ignore it. She didn’t want to break down again in front of Tomoyo. It wasn’t fair to ruin her beautiful trip by making her sad. After all, Tomoyo bore the weight of her secret love without complaint. Rather than trouble the one she loved, the pale girl chose to silently suffer for the sake of their happiness. In all their years together, Sakura could never remember a complaint, an accusation, or an angry question from Tomoyo about the true love that neglected her so. She carried her pain with an easy grace, as if it were a burden lighter than a feather. Sakura felt a flash of anger at whoever it was that ignored her best friend’s love. How could they be so blind? How could they live in ignorance of that vibrant, overflowing love? It seemed terribly unfair that someone so sweet and good should be condemned to a life of loneliness. But never a word did Tomoyo speak against them, or even about her pain. “Well”, Sakura resolved, “if she can do it for years, I can do it for a few hours. Until she leaves.” But that thought brought a new wave of distress that pushed her to the brink of tears. She glanced at Tomoyo as they neared the guest room door, then blurted out in a tense voice, “Tomoyo-chan, I need to go to my room for a minute, but if you need help packing…” Tomoyo looked at the woman who stood by her and sensed an inner torment. She longed to be with her for just a few moments more, but instead smiled and politely replied, “I’ll be fine, Sakura-chan. I’m nearly packed as it is. I’ll see you a little later, then.” Sakura gazed at her with a haunted look, nodded quickly, and then all but ran down the hall. Tomoyo stood alone in the dark and trembled. Breathing deeply, she prayed her heart be still, then opened the door and turned on the light. She rested her hand on the dark wood of the wall, fingers lightly tracing the exquisite carvings of birds and flowers. With a little sigh she pulled her suitcase from the closet and opened it up on the floor. Raising the lid of the little chest that held her clothing, she breathed in the sweet scent of cedar. “Cedar is for memory,” she whispered aloud. Where was that quote from, she wondered? Shaking her head and smiling, she thought of all the memories she would carry back to Japan from her wonderful second trip to Hong Kong. She packed away the dress she had worn when Sakura greeted her at the airport, practically bowling her over with enthusiasm. Holding onto Sakura in that busy throng, she felt as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. To see her again after four long months, months that dragged on like years, had been a dream fulfilled. She carefully tucked away the gorgeous red cheongsam that Ieran-sama had insisted she keep. She felt the fine silk and traced the little bumps of embroidered gold with her fingertip. Tomoyo had earnestly protested that such a gift was priceless, and she could not possibly accept it. But Ieran-sama only laughed, and told her that no one could ever look as good in it as she. On top of the dress in a little plastic bag she placed a few golden trinkets that had adorned her hair, and blushingly remembered the look in Fanren’s eyes as she bid her goodnight after the banquet. Contemplating the gray and black swimsuit, finally dry on its hanger, Tomoyo giddily recalled swimming with Sakura. She closed her eyes as her mind echoed with the sensation of Sakura's firm but gentle arms holding her as they swam in the warm water. She peeked at her little clock to check the time, and wondered where her friend was. “Maybe she’s fallen asleep,” Tomoyo giggled to herself, “I guess even genki Card Mistresses have to rest sometime.” Still, the room felt empty without her, and Tomoyo wished she were there. Gazing at the clothing in her half-packed suitcase, she wondered if these memories were truly enough. Can I live with just memories, but not her? Before this trip she would have replied with a resounding yes. To have such precious moments to savor would have seemed a bounty beyond compare. But now, they were pale reminders of the indescribable joy of simply being with her. She had seen such wonderful sights on this trip, but none of them compared to sitting by Sakura and holding her hand. Out of the fragrant cedar chest came her cyan nightgown. She held it up and recalled Sakura brushing her hair with long, sensuous strokes, delicate fingers lightly caressing her shoulder and neck. She remembered sitting in the garden, gazing at Sakura’s face glowing in the moonlight, and how her eyes caught that glow and shone with an emerald fire. She remembered crying in her arms, the pain and longing finally too much to bear without tears. And with feverish intensity she remembered their kiss, her very first kiss, and the flood of tender, passionate love between them. For an electric instant her soul joined with Sakura’s in that magical garden under the August moon. Tomoyo felt Sakura’s love there as never before. It surprised and delighted her then, and confused and delighted her now. And sitting on the floor in the guest room, holding that soft cyan nightgown to her breast, a realization struck Tomoyo with forceful suddenness: Sakura had changed. In all their years growing up together, Sakura had been much the same as the sweet, genki girl she first met in third grade. True, she had developed into a beautiful woman, and perhaps was a bit less hyper as she grew older. But all in all, she was still Sakura. Yet something now was very different, and Tomoyo searched her heart to understand just what. There had been hints in the letters and the phone calls. Sometimes she sensed a loss of confidence, a hesitant uncertainty. But Sakura had seen her way through moments like that before, always emerging triumphantly with captured Clow Card, or husband, in hand. Sometimes in her writing Sakura had seemed sad and lonely, but surely this was natural as she adjusted to a new life in a strange city, far away from family and friends. No, it was not until they sat together in the garden that Tomoyo had really noticed. Sakura had always liked her, and treasured her as a best friend. But there, in that garden, the pale woman felt Sakura’s love as never before. It was not a mere kiss, or a touch, or a glance that was different, for these were but outward signs. What had changed was her love. What was once a tender affection was now a passionate longing that seemingly knew no bounds. Tomoyo felt exhilaration and apprehension as she realized what had once seemed impossible. Closing her eyes, she shuddered sweetly at the thought: her love is like my love. Her heart raced as she carefully folded the nightgown and placed it in the suitcase. Long ago Eriol had remarked on her perceptive nature, and she knew he was right. She could read hearts as if they were open books, with all their fragile secrets hers to see. Her kind and loving nature blended well with this gift, for she would never bring harm to another, or use her knowledge to manipulate and control. Sometimes, though, she would gently nudge, or drop a hint, or help a heart along the path it yearned for. She had seen Sayoran's love for Sakura bloom like a trembling flower, and helped nurture it when she realized Sakura's love for the Chinese Sorcerer. Such a course carried no small onus of pain, but for Sakura's sake she persevered, and was rewarded with the Card Mistress' joy on her wedding day. Not that she had seen all of it, of course. But Sakura was happy, and what else mattered? But then, if she was now happily married, how to explain her wonderful, baffling love for Tomoyo? Gazing out the window of the garden and listening to birds greeting the morning sun, Tomoyo frowned thoughtfully. At first, she had dismissed Sakura's love as simple nostalgia for her life in Japan. It was hard to grow up, to leave behind the easy joys of childhood. But Sakura's love went far beyond the bounds of anything that Tomoyo had sensed before. Either it was something entirely new, or something long buried that had recently been uncovered. What would cause such a thing? Sakura seemed happy in her marriage, though Sayoran's absence during her visit seemed odd. Tomoyo was puzzled by the man’s behavior. How could anyone be married to such a bright and lovely spirit and not want to be with her all the time? Even the few times she had seen him around her, he seemed distant, appearing more out of obligation than choice. Of course, that was Syaoran. He was reserved and painfully shy. But surely, underneath it all, he loved her. He had to. How could anyone not love her? Perhaps he loved her, but not the same way as Tomoyo. But then, could anyone love Sakura the way she did? That wasn't fair to Sayoran, to compare his love to hers. Shaking her head, Tomoyo suddenly felt exhausted. With a smile she thought, "Around her, I'm never tired. She has enough energy for both of us." Tomoyo returned to packing. With a sigh, she gently placed the dress from her almost-date into the suitcase. Dancing with Sakura! Did it really happen, or was it just the sweetest of dreams? Holding her close, swaying softly to the music, feeling the soft warmth of her body under the shimmering silk. Tomoyo blushed scarlet and hugged herself tightly. And then, that kiss. Tomoyo's fingers rested lightly on her lips as she remembered the eager longing of Sakura's sudden passion. Even the memory of it left her breathless. If I never see her again, she thought, I’ll always have that kiss. With a little sigh, she snapped shut the suitcase and glanced at the clock. Done, and it’s almost time to leave. Her heart ached with the finality of it all. But she had resolved that this must be their final parting. Being together would only lead to pain for them both. She wondered if she would see Sakura again before leaving, or if woman had fallen fast asleep. Her heart soared when she heard a light tapping at the door, and she rushed to open it. In an elated voice she cried out, “Sakura-chan!” She opened the door, and there stood Ieran-sama and Fanren. Hastily bowing, she felt somehow flustered as the two women entered the room. As she began her apology, Ieran-sama gently interrupted, “I’m certain Sakura-san will be here shortly. Do you need help with your bags?” Tomoyo smiled and shook her head, “No, thank you. I’m all finished packing now. Oh, but I did have something to give you, if I may.” Tomoyo took seven perfectly wrapped packages from a little table. One she gave to Ieran-sama, and one to Fanren. She explained that the others were for the remaining Li sisters, Syaoran, and Sakura. “They are nothing special, just little thank-yous for having me here, and for all of your help and kindness. I’ve had such a wonderful time.” Ieran took her package, studying the beautiful wrapping paper and the intricate bow Tomoyo had tied. She looked at Tomoyo and smiled warmly as she thanked the young designer, then slipped the package into the folds of her silken gown. Fanren, with less patience, had eagerly torn open the wrapping of her own present and was admiring a beautiful jade pin in the shape of a dragonfly. With child-like glee she exclaimed, “Tomoyo-chan, it’s lovely! Thank you so very much!” With that she hugged Tomoyo tightly, practically sweeping the slender woman off her feet. Tomoyo blushed, then smiled and hugged back. Finally, she bowed and spoke in her musical voice, “Thank you again for everything. But perhaps I should finish dressing before the limousine arrives?” Ieran smiled and bowed, then gently tugged on Fanren’s sleeve, bringing the woman out of her Tomoyo-induced fog. Closing the door, Ieran turned and walked down the dark hallway. Fanren followed, and in a rueful voice whispered, “Mother, I think I’m in love.” Ieran-sama suppressed a grin at her daughter’s half-kidding confession. Signaling a servant to go help Tomoyo carry her bags, she wondered to herself, “Who could possibly know that girl and not fall in love?” Tomoyo, dressed in the long, chiffon, copper-russet dress she had bought at Matsizakaya, waited by the driveway as the limousine pulled up. She felt a twinge of disappointment as she scanned the house for Sakura. Looking at the mansion one last time, she entered the spacious back seat of the limousine and heard a voice shout out, “Wait! Tomoyo-chan, don’t go yet!” As a breathless Sakura tumbled into the car beside her, Tomoyo felt a surge of exhilaration. She looked at her panting friend and spoke in a merry voice, “Sakura-chan, I was afraid you might have fallen asleep.” Then, noticing the numerous band-aids on her hands, Tomoyo gasped out, “Oh, Sakura-chan, are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?” Gently took her friend’s hands in her own and stared at with fearful eyes. Looking embarrassed, Sakura replied with forced laughter, “Oh, hah-hah, it’s nothing, really. Just my usual clumsy self. I’m fine, really I am.” But despite her protestations, she happily left her hands in Tomoyo’s. Tomoyo calmed down, but still regarded her friend with a worried look. Sakura smiled and apologized, “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you. But I had to do something before you left. Oh, and Ieran-sama wanted me to give you this.” Sakura gave her a small package, which Tomoyo slipped into her carry-on bag. Sakura slumped back into the plush seat of the limousine, still holding her hand. With a gentle squeeze, Tomoyo spoke in a cheery voice, “It’s all right, Sakura-chan. I’m just happy you’re here now. Thank you so much for having me. It was the most wonderful vacation I could ever have had.” Sakura gazed back, smiling, brushing away her auburn hair with bandaged fingers. With a happy sigh, she replied, “This was the most wonderful time I’ve ever had, Tomoyo-chan. But the best thing about it was just being with you.” Tomoyo felt a warm glow in her heart as Sakura spoke. Her voice masked her emotions as she spoke again liltingly, “I’m sure Sakura- chan will have many more wonderful times in all the magical years to come.” For several minutes there was only silence as the limousine snaked it’s way through the heavy traffic. The pale woman felt the grip on her hand tighten, and sensed her companion’s edginess. Finally, Sakura spoke up in a quiet voice, “Tomoyo-chan, I hope you’ll be able to come again sometime. Sometime soon.” Tomoyo felt a chill as she thought, no, please Sakura, please don’t. We can’t. Staring straight ahead, she responded with forced casualness, “I hope so, too.” Silence. Sakura turned and looked out the window at the city skyline, or the other cars, or perhaps nothing much at all. In a hesitant, whispery voice she asked, “When do you think you might be able to come again?” “Sakura-chan, I’m really not sure. It will be busy before the Christmas season, and then there are all the projects for the New Year, and….” Her voice trailed away as she fought back the tears. It sounded so awful, as if her work was more important than Sakura. How could she say such a thing? But she couldn’t do this again, she just couldn’t. Seeing Sakura was tearing her soul apart, and could ruin Sakura’s marriage and beautiful new life. For Sakura’s sake, and her own, she had to say good-bye. She had to. Tomoyo turned to the window and choked back a sob. Then she felt Sakura squeeze her hand tightly, and heard a wistful voice, “It’s all right Tomoyo-chan, I understand. I’m sorry. I know that we’ll be together again someday.” As the limousine pulled up to the airport’s departing area, Tomoyo felt queasy and weak. She didn’t want to end her trip like this. She didn’t want this to be the final memory seared into her heart. But her masks were lost, and the words wouldn’t come. It was all she could do to keep from crying. Then she heard a voice, genki and strong, that filled the cold parts of her with summer sunshine, “We’re here, Tomoyo-chan. Come on, you don’t want to miss your flight!” Startled, she turned around and saw Sakura’s bright, beaming smile. Relieved, she smiled back, and the two rushed hand-in-hand down the JAL concourse. Arriving at the gate, Sakura bowed and spoke in a voice that was happy and sad all at once, “Arigato gozaimasu, Tomoyo-chan. I was so happy to see you again. Have a wonderful flight back, and give my love to your Mother.” Tomoyo bowed and resisted the urge to embrace her beautiful friend, “Arigato gozaimasu, Sakura-chan. Thank you for everything. Sayonara.” As she turned reluctantly to go, she heard a whispery voice calling her back, “Tomoyo-chan. Please.” She turned and saw Sakura with her head bowed, offering a hastily wrapped package tied with lavender ribbons. Her voice brimming with emotion, Sakura said, “Tomoyo-chan, I’ve felt so bad for so long that you were never able to have this from your special someone. I’m sorry it’s not very good. I’m not very good at sewing, and I was sort of in a rush. I know your true love, if he knew, would do so much better. But since he can’t, I wanted to give you this from him.” Stunned, Tomoyo stood motionless. Finally, she reached out and took the soft package from Sakura’s trembling hands. Then she took the woman into her arms, her own tears flowing freely. Holding one another, the two friends clung together in their own world of grief and joy. Tomoyo desperately wanted to speak, to tell Sakura just how much she really loved her. But it would be too cruel, so she wept in silence. Finally, Sakura whispered raggedly, “Tomoyo-chan, you…you don’t want to miss your flight.” Tomoyo slowly let go, though she yearned to hold her just a little bit longer. Instead, she spoke in a voice that sounded so very far away, “Hai. Sayonara, Sakura-chan.” She moved away and turned to go, forcing every step that took her farther and farther away from her one, true love. She glanced back and saw Sakura, smiling through a tear-streaked face, waving goodbye. Tomoyo paused, hesitant, her heart pounding wildly. She nearly ran back to those gentle arms, but instead rushed down the boarding ramp, fumbling for her ticket in a haze of tears. Sakura watched her go, then walked to a picture window overlooking the runway. Somehow, she made it until Tomoyo was gone. She stood in shock as the boarding ramp slowly swung away from Tomoyo’s plane. Dimly she heard the engines roar to life. Pressing her face against the glass, she whimpered like a forgotten child, “Please don’t go. Please, Tomoyo-chan. Please don’t go.” As if in a dream, the enormous jet slowly began to pull away. Sakura gazed up at the blue sky and whispered, “In a few minutes she’ll be there, in a beautiful place in the sky.” The odd words echoed in her head, and suddenly a deluge of memories burst upon her: a little child sobbing in bed, a frighteningly empty chair at a dinning table, and a brother, her brother, quietly explaining, “She’s up there now, in a beautiful place in the sky.” Slowly shaking her head, Sakura moaned softly and began to cry again. Her brave front finally collapsed in a torrent of weeping as she covered her face with bandaged hands. Heads turned to the wailing young woman who sobbed hysterically and staggered into the Ladies’ Room. Her hapless cries reverberated as Tomoyo’s plane, aloft at last, gained altitude for the long flight home.