Disclaimer: Not mine. Not making money out of it. And if you're looking for canon, go somewhere else.

The Aftermath
by Hidden Tala

June 8th
Thursday, 1:45:32 PM
Faculty Room (a Senior High School somewhere in Tokyo)

How the hell did she manage get into this? Tomoyo wondered briefly as tensed and agitated fingers flew to the bridge of her nose in an effort to temper the furious pounding in her head. She was normally not easy to bait, if that had been Takamiya-sensei's intent, nor was she quick to take offense, but damn if this woman didn't get her blood pressure rising.

"Time's a-wastin', Daidōji-sensei," pressed the matronly biology teacher in her annoying matter-of-fact tone. "Why, you said it yourself, you're almost 30 and you still haven't got a gentleman to, ahem, pop the proverbial cherry."

W-Whaaaaaaaat?! The voice inside her head screamed, scandalized, sounding hysterical and almost insane. Where does she get off telling her these preposterous things?! Her hands twisted on her lap hidden beneath the table, wanting so much to break the bones in her co-worker's invisible neck. Exhaling sharply, she brandished a shark-like smile, hoping the other woman had enough sense to leave the matter to rest. "Thank you for your concern, Takamiya-sensei, but—"

The 47-year-old mother of three brushed it off in an offhanded manner. "Oh, I worry about you, my dear. Truly, I do. You're a beautiful woman; smart, sensible, kind and a talented one at that. It breaks my heart to see it all go to waste. Why, you're almost past the marrying age. Think about the genes, my dear. You have to share 'em while you still got the time. In five years or so, it'll be difficult to get with child. You mustn't wait long. You must start now."

The nerve on her right temple throbbed madly. So many hurtful things wanted to spew out of her mouth, acerbic remark at the tip of her tongue, wanting to wreak havoc consequences be damned. But she was her mother's daughter. Proper manners and respect for elders long ingrained in her system kept her in check. She inhaled deeply, as if low in supply of oxygen, and expired a tremulous breath. She repeated the process until she was sure any murderous intent was absent in her brain. Takamiya-sensei was still droning on about something, of which she gladly zoned out, only nodding or making an acquiescing grunt when the older woman looked for a response. She went back to the beginning, recalling that she was only being a polite, if not a thoughtful co-worker, when she inquired about Takamiya-sensei's family. And then the next thing she knows she was on the dissecting table, being torn to ligaments not unlike a bullfrog.

"You see, my dear," Takamiya-sensei was saying in her you've-got-to-listen-to-me classroom voice. "Sex has many benefits. It strengthens the heart and raises blood flow. It also boosts the immune system, did you know? You've a better chance to avoid catching a cold when you have intercourse. My dear, your life span may even get extended! And also…" She trailed off, a doubtful expression blooming in her pudgy face. "You… Ahem. You aren't a lesbian, are you? Not that there's anything wrong with that…"

The only comfort she had was the absence of other teachers in the faculty room. A small comfort, being spared from further embarrassment from their colleagues. A small comfort, had she decided to murder the pudgy older woman with the telephone wire, no one would stand to witness it.

Well, that is, if she didn't die of apoplexy first.

Then the bell for the next period rang. Takamiya-sensei jumped in surprise, then laughed self-consciously. She reached out a bulbous hand to pat Tomoyo on the shoulder. The smile on her face had meaning—one that said she knew she saved a poor soul from suffering eternal ignorance from carnal bliss. "Do think about what I said, hmmm? I'll go on first."

Blazing amethyst orbs followed the older woman out of the room. When the door closed, she yanked the throw pillow off her back and counted numbly in her head. At twenty, her face dived into the soft cushion and screamed.

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Same day, 6:24:12 PM

"Oh my god! She told you what?!"

Tomoyo pulled the offending piece of technology off her ear and glowered at it. Even from a distance, she could hear Li Meiling cackling like a lunatic. When the traffic light turned green, she put the Chinese girl on loudspeaker. "I'd appreciate it if you could stop doing an impression of a dying hyena."

Meiling, damn her black and obnoxious soul, laughed harder. "Sorry… sorry… i-it's… it's just so… ow! Damn, I think I pulled a muscle!"

Tomoyo muttered something under her breath that sounded like, "Serves you right".

"Well," Meiling said later, sobered and a little short of breath. "It was damn funny and I just had to laugh, okay?"

"You could at least try to commiserate with me!" she complained, thumping both hands on the steering wheel. "It was so humiliating! My god, my own mother wouldn't even dare talk to me like that! The nerve of that… that..."

"Well, it's not like the old biddy was completely off the mark," Meiling baited which earned her a shrill and violent response. The sadistic girl doubled over in laughter. "Wait, how did she even know about the unbroken state of your hymen?"

Tomoyo scowled at the direction of her phone. It was just like Meiling to make fun of her when she was so high strung she could combust. "She assumed. Would you believe that? She assumed that I'm a virgin because I don't participate in their green jokes. Where's the logic in that? Can't I be just a person with high morals and a perfectly clean mind? Where does she get off judging me or the way I live?"

"Be that as it may, you can't deny that you truly are a virgin." Meiling paused. "And I don't think it's by choice either!"

As if physically struck by a blunt object, Tomoyo stepped on the breaks, and screamed. Somewhere in Hong Kong, Meiling buried her iPhone under the pillows. The constant honking behind her woke her from her stupor and grudgingly drove again. A traffic violation ticket was the last thing she needed right now.

"Now that we got that out of the way," Meiling plowed on. "Stop whining in my damn ear. It's sickening!"

"Shut the hell—"

"I'm not shutting up and you better listen to me, Daidōji, because I'm a hair away from jumping on a plane to kick your sorry ass," Meiling interjected. "You're 29, single and damn proud. You got your own house and car, you do the job you love, and you're all-fricken'-right. Just because some old matron said you should go forth and multiply, doesn't mean you have to do it. And why should you be offended that she thought you were a virgin? Aren't you? Man, it's the 21st century. People don't put witches or whores on the stakes anymore, much less a virgin! Or maybe… oh god, you've become a human being and less than a frigid bitch!"

Not for the first time, Tomoyo was tempted to throw the phone out the window. She had known Meiling since elementary when the Chinese girl transferred in their school from Hong Kong. When Meiling returned to her home country five years later, they remained in touch, talking almost every day, that had cemented their best friend status. She knew Meiling like she knows how she looks like in front of a mirror. She had given up illusions that Meiling would act like a decent person and mind her hurt feelings. No, by virtue of being called best friend, Meiling believed she had the divine right to torment her. She'd just appreciate it if Meiling could cut her some slack.

"—who's the poor chap you paid to bump uglies—"

"Good god! Shut your—"

"Don't be such a prude. You're almost 30," Meiling admonished with a tone of dismissal. "Was it with that four-eyed distant relation of mine? I knew Sakura bound him to suffer your company but I had no idea it's escalated to this! How long has this been going on? And why didn't you tell me, you whore!"

"Because there's nothing to tell, you insufferable motormouth," Tomoyo snapped, taking a right turn in the next intersection. "My hymen is, as you said, still woefully intact."

"Ah, so you do lament the state of—"

"I admit to no such thi—!"

Meiling made a clucking sound to cut her off. "If you're just horny, there are toys you could use, you know. Have you been reading—"

"Oh my god!" Tomoyo screeched then yanked the phone off the dock and pressed the screen hard to end the call.

A few minutes later, a Taylor Swift song mawing off about a mean bully sliced through the stoic silence in the car. Tomoyo knew she had the choice to ignore it, heck, she could even turn off the damn phone. But she also knew Meiling wouldn't stop pestering her until she quits being an 'immature passive-aggressive bitch'.

"Sorry," Meiling began, sounding not at all penitent. "I was out of line blah blah blah. I still don't get why you have to be so uptight about it. It's basic human nature. And for our age—okay, fine, I'm stopping. Anyway…"

Because the house didn't come with a garage, Tomoyo parked the Honda in the driveway. It was a two-storey building with white-painted wooden walls bordered with white picket fence. Outside, there stood an old wisteria tree reaching about three meters tall, sprinkling over purple blossoms on the second-hand ivory chaise longue she bought in the flea market. She littered the surrounding fence with an assortment of potted plants, making the bare lot look more like a mini garden. All in all, it was a lovely little house and though she slaved and starved for the first six months since closing the deal four years years ago, it was well worth it.

"The point is," Meiling was saying, her tone taking on a serious lilt. "At this age, it isn't ridiculous to actually want to be with somebody. It's of no consequence whether it's a casual fling or a serious relationship. We just need to somewhat allay this maddening hankering for human touch, you know? We're created to share a connection with another human being—whether it is the joining of bodies, or if you're going to be corny about it, the minds or hearts—whatever. It's a serious fact. So don't you swallow all that bullshit you read in the self-help section I know you love—that you can be happy on your damn own. What a load of crap. Say, you've got a billion bucks to your name, a Ferrari to drive, heck, a castle in the Scottish highlands, and then you go home after a hard day's work and there's the butler opening the door for you, not even bothering to say 'Welcome home' or 'How did your day go?' And then you crawl into bed and its below zero degree Celsius outside and there's no warm body next to you to hold you or touch you… and you say you're damn whole? What the hell are you smoking, girl?"

Meiling was still panting from her impassioned speech. All the while, Tomoyo only listened half-heartedly, taking note of the things she needs to buy in the grocery because the refrigerator was nearing empty she could almost fit inside it.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?"

She made a sound of assent and then closed the ref. "It's not like I'm an insensitive ice cube, I understand the need to connect with another person. I'm just not the type to rush—"

"I'm sorry to break it to you, darling," Meiling interrupted. "If you don't start rushing now, I don't think I will see little brats running around your quaint little house."

"You can shut up now, Takamiya-obasan."

"I'm not being mean," Meiling said. "I'm just stating a fact. I know you love kids—that's what started your wanting to be a teacher, no? In three months, you're turning 30 and the only thing you've got going that resembles a romantic prospect is that four-eyed freak Sakura forced you to meet. Of course, she also threatened him with Xiao Lang's mighty abs and glorious biceps—"

"Why do you always make it sound like we dislike each other's company?" Tomoyo complained, settling down on the soft yellow sofa in the living room. "I enjoy his intelligent conversation. And he's a perfect gentleman. He takes me out to places he knows I'd enjoy. It may have started out as a chore but we got on well after a few weeks."

"So you're telling me you're actually dating that freak?"

Tomoyo browsed through the mails she got in her hand. Bills, bills, notice of disconnection, a credit card offer, a fancy looking envelope, bills, and another set of bills. "No and stop calling him that. He's your cousin."

"I know that's why I'm calling it as I see it," Meiling shot back. "He has me named 'Bitch' in his phone, you know? Wait, don't tell me you actually like him."

Tomoyo sorted the bills near their due date from the others that can wait. "He's not even my type."

"Ooooh," Meiling retorted, sounding intrigued. "You have a type?"

"Oh please."

"Ah, I remember." Meiling chuckled on the other line. "Tall, dark, handsome, and smoldering dark brown eyes. In short, To—"

"We agreed never to speak of it again."

"You started it," Meiling shot back. "Do you think Sakura knows about it? I mean, why would she sic Eriol on you? Maybe she feels bad about…"

"I don't think that has anything to do with it," Tomoyo said dismissively. "Hiiragizawa-kun just came back after being gone for fifteen years. And this is Tokyo, not Tomoeda. Maybe she thought I could show him around and be a friend. He didn't know anyone around here."

"But you didn't have to keep doing it," Meiling protested. "It's been a year. You need to keep your Saturdays off to pick up men."

"I don't have anything better to do. He doesn't have anything better to do. It just stuck."

After another lengthy debate about the horrors of dating and the joys of spinsterhood, Tomoyo finally ended the call, exhausted. An hour with Meiling could sap even the most hyper gorilla in the jungle. Now she stared at the ivory envelope with her name written in elegant script. The letter had no return address and her own had been suspiciously absent. Whoever sent this must have delivered it personally. But why would anyone try so hard to keep their identity a secret? Frowning, she held it up against the light, trying to make out what was inside. A card? Intrigued, she started to unfasten the gold ribbon that locked the envelope but stopped midway. What it if it contains anthrax or something? What if—

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

She jerked, then put a hand on her heart. Glad for the distraction, she jumped from her seat and placed the mails on the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen. She'll get back to it once she's cleared her head. For the meantime, she's going to earn some money by babysitting the neighbor's 3-year-old kid.

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June 11th
Sunday, 5:03:12 AM

She was dying.

With eyes still closed, she propped both elbows on the unfamiliar hard mattress to support her head and back before sitting up. Whatever accident she had gotten herself into, she was lucky all her limbs were still intact. A hundred jackhammers pounded her skull and she wanted to die. The sudden change in position made her intestines churn that she wished the hospital had some bucket nearby. With great difficulty, she pried both eyes open and felt needles stab her eyeballs. She expected to see a doctor or a nurse but the sight that greeted her was pitch darkness. It was too dark to make out anything. It was also too cold, freezing even. She pushed herself back to bed, pulling up the blanket that slipped to her waist when she sat up earlier. She let out a surprised yelp when her knuckle touched her bare breast. Alarmed, she bolted upright, ignoring the wave of nausea that followed the sudden movement. This isn't a hospital, she concluded in panic. Throwing the covers above her head, she confirmed it, because God in heaven, she was as naked as a new baby in the delivery room. She slowly drew the covers down and secured to cover her naked chest before reaching for the nightstand to turn on the lamp. Gulping down a huge lump in her throat, she forced her gaze to her left, knowing full well what lay naked in there. The man was leaning on his right side, facing her, his torso bare, not flabby, not too muscular, dark tufts of hair curled around the navel. What he looked like, however, would remain a mystery because his face was buried under a pillow, his left arm draping over it.

"It's okay, it's okay," she assured herself, regulating her breaths to avoid hyperventilation. "I… I'll just get my—"

A stirring coming from the man beside her interrupted her panicked thoughts. She jolted as the unidentified man groaned as he struggled to a sitting position. She clasped the covers tightly to her chest, watching his movements from the corner of her eyes. A pale hand shot up to shield his face when the light hit his eyes. But she didn't need to see his face to know who he was. The second his bed-head hair came up she already knew. She only knew one man who has hair that shade of midnight blue.

So for the third time that week, she screamed.

A/N: Okay so... This was rotting in my computer and it's years and years old. I may have forgone publishing it because I didn't want it to end up as another disappointment. But when I read it today, I just lol-ed at every turn and decided right then and there to share it for lol-ing purposes. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Please leave a review. It really means a lot to me when I hear from you guys.