Disclaimer: I do not own CCS or any of its characters. This is a mere piece of fan fiction and I do not lay claim on any of these characters. All copyrights go to the rightful authors.

Complete

By Hally Dang

Sapphire and Amethyst

Art class has always been one of her favorite classes. She loved the way the paint glides across the smooth canvas. She could create an idyllic and artificial world just by dipping her brush into a small plate of forged brilliance. Her mother always claimed that she was ambidextrous in both music and artistry. Although sometimes she felt that her mother favored music more than painting, Tomoyo found that she preferred painting. It was a way of escaping, music wasn't capable of that. Music was a way to express oneself, it could never help her fade away into a reverie.

Tomoyo picked up her favorite brush, held it against the white canvas, ready to conceive something special.

"Daidouji-san?" a quiet voice broke her thoughts.

She turned to face the speaker. "Yes?"

A dark haired boy met her gaze. "May I borrow your black?"

"Why of course you may, Hiiragisawa-san," she smiled and set her brush down. She picked up the small pot of the dark liquid and handed it to the boy. "Here you go."

The boy accepted the paint. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied and their brief exchange ended. The boy returned back to his painting as did she.

Picking up the brush once more, Tomoyo stared at the empty canvas. Suddenly she did not know what she wanted to do. Her mind could not focus. She shifted lightly on her stool. She was puzzled; why wasn't she able to paint?

Painting usually came to her easily, like a moth to a light. Painting was her gift. But she found herself facing an absence of ideas. She panicked. She does not know why, she felt unsettled and a wave of self-doubt ran through her body. Before she knew it, she had broken out in a cold sweat.

"Are you all right?"

The voice brought her back into reality. She nodded almost franticly. "Yes. Yes I am," she looked at the boy sitting opposite of her. "I'm fine," she lied and pasted on a bright smile.

"Are you sure, Daidouji-san?" he was doubtful. "Maybe its better if you---"

"I'm perfectly fine, Hiiragisawa-san," Tomoyo rudely snapped, her voice rose dangerously.

He studied her and stared fiercely into her bright eyes. His expression was void. The boy gave her a quiet nod before returning to his own painting.

"Oh I'm so sorry," she suddenly realized the disdain in her words. "I was--- I'm sorry."

He tilted his head to look back at her. "There's really no need for your apology," he replied lackadaisically.

Tomoyo winced to the indifference in his frigid voice. "I'm sorry," she said again not knowing what else to say.

"It's quite all right," he said seeing the hurt in her eyes. He smiled.

Suddenly she knew what to paint.

She smiled back.

_____________________________________________________

Another Friday came. Tomoyo headed down the corridors of complex school building, making her way to the art room downstairs. She loved Fridays, it was the only day of the week when she did not have voice lessons. She smiled to herself as she descended down the stairway. She was very surprised when she saw the locked classroom door when she turned the corner. She glanced at the hallway clock, she was 15 minutes early.

Letting out a sigh Tomoyo leaned on the nearby wall to wait.

"Why hello there Daidouji-san," a voice behind her made her jump.

She swirled around in one swift movement. "Hiiragisawa-san! You startled me."

"Forgive me," was his short reply.

"It's okay," she dismissed the apology. "How are you, Hiiragisawa-san?"

"Fine, I suppose," he told her, "and you?"

Tomoyo shifted the books in her arms. "I… I'm…" she tried to say but the intense gaze of his sapphire eyes captured her attention. They were so calm yet so inclement. They deluded her. She could not tear her gaze away. "I… I…" she stuttered.

"Daidouji-san?"

"I'm sorry, forgive me."

He smiled knowingly. She did not like that smile. She knew he was plotting something insidious. Surprisingly, she was intimidated by him, this was the first time she had ever been intimidated by anyone for that matter. She took a step back. The pale yet unquestionably handsome boy before her suddenly seemed like a wolf in a sheep's coat.

"Daidouji-san?" he asked again.

"I'm fine," she replied regaining her composure.

The boy was not fooled by her reassuring words. A brief flash of exasperation ran through his eye but it disappeared as fast as it had appeared. He nodded and decided not to pursue the subject further. "You are here awfully early today," he remarked instead.

"Yes," she agreed. "I am and so are you, Hiiragisawa-san."

He chuckled but did not offer a reason. Tomoyo had an odd feeling about the way he looked. He unmistakably knows something which she was ignorant of. She watched him lean against the wall casually, perhaps too casually.

He ran a hand through his disheveled dark hair. There was an awkward silence between as the clock above them clicked away. It's monotonous clicking echoed through the empty hallway. Tomoyo shifted uneasily on her feet trying her best to be discreet.

"Well…" the boy suddenly broke the eerie silence. "Lovely weather, no?" he joked.

Tomoyo laughed lightly. "Yes, dull cloudy days are always so pleasant."

A plump round woman with bouncy curls appeared around the corner. "Why, Hiiragisawa-san, Daidouji-san!" she exclaimed when she recognized them as her students. "I didn't know you were so enthusiastic about art."

Tomoyo and Eriol exchanged smiles. "I'm so glad you made it all time, Kabasous-sama," Tomoyo said as their teacher hurried to unlock the classroom door.

"I was at a meeting. I'm sorry about the wait," the cheerful woman replied.

"We understand," the boy said as he sat down in his assigned seat.

Tomoyo quickly settled into the seat opposing him. "If it's all right with you, I would like to continue my painting from last class."

"Go ahead," Kabasous-sama replied. "Hiiragisawa-san, you may do so as well."

_____________________________________________________

She stared at her empty sketch board and then she glanced at the dark eyed boy before her. She did not know where to begin. Drawing was never her strong point. She preferred painting to this any day. She let out a long sigh.

"Daidouji-san? Do you mind if I begin?" the boy asked.

"No, please do," she smiled and put down her sketch pad to pose for him. She shifted into a comfortable position. "How's this?"

"Good," he nodded. "All right, please hold still."

Tomoyo watched the boy's right hand move gracefully across the white paper. He seemed so serene and stoical that no emotion showed on his face. His formal uniform was buttoned tightly at his throat. It suited him perfectly. The blue tie brought out his eyes. Tomoyo tried to ignore his midnight eyes. She was afraid she might be entranced by them again. It was so rude to stare. Thus she kept her gaze upon the window behind them.

It was a gorgeous winter day. There wasn't a single cloud in sight, the sky radiated with a bewitching blue. The white snow glittered under the golden sunlight. The few trees on campus were covered with the twinkling brilliance. Tomoyo loved winter.

She loved the cold silence. She enjoyed every bit of the ghostly stillness.

"I'm done Daidouji-san," Eriol suddenly spoke.

It snapped her back into reality. "Done? So quickly?"

"Yes."

She was left stunned. It's only been minutes. "Oh."

"Would you like to start now?"

She nodded. He set his sketch book face down beside him. "Okay, you may start anytime you like."

Tomoyo picked up her number 5 pencil. She studied the boy, not knowing where to begin.

Finally she made a light outline of his jaw. She looked at him again. He was so beautiful. It was a controlled and tranquil beauty that intrigued her. Eriol Hiiragisawa. His name echoed through her head.

Eriol Hiiragisawa. A boy she knew nothing about.

Aside from the fact that they shared the same art class, she knew nothing about him. Nothing. He had always been that aristocratic stranger but at that instant she saw much more. He has everything she wasn't. Even though he appeared as an callous person, underneath that he was… everything.

He was wisdom and ignorance.

_____________________________________________________

A steady melody ran clear and loud throughout the lonely music room. A figure was seen setting in front of the black grand piano, he was hidden in the shadow, making it hard to identify the player. However the precision and ability of his playing showed off years of practice and accomplishment, making it clear that this pianist was one of the foremost players in the country.

The aria that sang through the lifted covers and dancing strings was enchantingly beautiful. It was a melancholy yet enlivening. Every note and every measure is played to perfection. The music was flawless and flowed with abnormal grace.

Tomoyo stopped suddenly in the doorway. She was bewitched by the music. Gasping the doorframe, she watched the pianist play. She felt the sadness of every note. She felt the sorrow in very pitch. The song was strangely familiar, as if she had heard it before.

The song soon came to an end. Her clapping echoed clearly through the room when the late note was played. "That was beautiful," she praised.

"Daidouji-san, I did not know you were here," the pianist replied, his voice was indifferent.

She recognized that voice. "Hiiragisawa-san," she stated his name. "Your performance was breathtaking."

She saw the shadow nod. "Thank you."

"What was it called?"

"The Color of Absence," he told her.

"It's an exceptional piece," she watched him smile. "Did you compose it?"

He nodded. "I'm glad you like it," he replied as he ran his fingers across the ivory keys again.

Tomoyo smiled. "The Color of Absence," she repeated the name, savoring every syllable. She walked toward the piano.

He started to play another song. She stopped beside the piano. She was captivated by the way his fingers danced through the keys. The boy shifted to the left of the piano bench. "Here, have a seat," he told her.

Tomoyo was uncertain. She was tentative when she finally sat down beside the mysterious boy. "Thank you."

There was a pregnant pause between them.

"You know," he suddenly spoke. "You can't fly if you never open your wings. You can't fall until you try." She was startled by his words. He stopped playing and turned to her, capturing her with his intense gaze. "You won't fall. I promise."

She froze and she knew that he had seen everything.

_____________________________________________________

The expansive concert hall was buzzing with people. The lighted dome ceiling gave the room a heavenly feel. The velvet fabric that seemed to be everywhere told the visitor that this was an elite gathering.

His black three piece suit was flawlessly slender and fitted him so perfectly that anyone would know that it was a custom designer piece. The platinum watch and sleeve cuffs were studded with solid five carat natural diamonds. Every bit of him was bellowing his tremendous wealth. And he was only seventeen.

He walked swiftly up the stair case to the box seat area, the scent of his cologne filled the area. His footsteps made clear echoes to ring around him. The teardrop crystal chandelier above him made his dark hair glow.

When he finally arrived at his balcony seat, he can see the floor below him buzzing with an array of colors that sparkled from the light of the domed ceiling. It was getting close to the start of the show.

"There you are!" a full and vivacious voice sang from behind him.

He remained motionless. "You're late," he stated simply.

The red haired woman behind him pouted. "It was Suppi's fault," she said. "He went berserk and practically tore the entire mansion apart," a mischievous tone leaked into her voice, "I had to clean up after him."

Eriol glanced at the woman. "You've been feeding him sweets again." The question sounded more like a statement.

The women mocked an expressed of shock and dismay. "Why, I'd never think---"

"Have a seat, Nakuru," he said cutting her off.

The women looked at his back for a second. Astonishment was in her fiery eyes. "Master, I---"

"Have a seat," he repeated. This time with more conviction in his voice.

"Y-yes master." The women obeyed and settled down beside him. There was silence between the two of them throughout the classical concert. Nakuru only glanced at her master occasionally as if afraid of him scolding her later. She could see it in the way he stared aimlessly at the lighted stage that something was terribly wrong. There was this look in his eyes that she had never seen before.

Nakuru turned towards him. She was genuinely concerned. Her fierce eyes settled into a gentler tint as she studied him. Eriol had always loved classical concerts --- much to her dismay --- but this time, it was somehow different. He was not showing any interest at all. His eyes had lost its enigmatic glint. It was as if a stranger was sitting beside her.

"What on earth are you staring at, Nakuru?" his voice was cold.

Nakuru was stunned by the icy comment. "N-nothing, sir."

He completely ignored her. "I have two eyes, like everyone else. I have only one mouth, like everyone else. " His voice rose dangerous with each sentence as he turned to look at her. "God damn it! What the hell do you want from me?!?"

Someone had just thrown a knife into her heart. Nakuru was taken aback by the malice in his words. She was in a state of total shock. She could not feel her legs anymore and she stayed glued to the velvet chair. It was as if someone had just taken all the air out of her lungs. Eriol stood up without even looking at her. The chair scraped the floor.

And the sound of the orchestra was the only thing Nakuru could perceive.

_____________________________________________________

She picked up her elaborate pearl laced skirts and climbed the marble stairs to the east wing balcony. She needed some fresh air. She was so sick of her mother's endless chatter. And she was so sick of herself that it hurts. She pushed open the ancient glass doors of the balcony with little effort.

The Heikona Opera House was one of only antique European style structures in this area of Japan and the east wing balcony was her favorite part of the 800 room opera house. It was just a little bit after the reception hall so it was less crowded and noisy. The balcony stretched for the length and width of a small tennis court and was supported by several Greek columns that stood at the east exit. The floor was made of the ivory white marble like the rest of the opera house. The balcony was enclosed by an array of curved colonnades. The only lights were from the glass doors leading back inside.

Tomoyo was startled when she noticed another figure in front of her since anyone rarely comes here. The figure stood against the colonnades with his hands on the railing. He was motionless and was deep in thought. The light night wind rushed against her, she smiled and made her way towards him. She stopped beside him but the figure took no notice of her presence. It was fairly dark and she could not make out the details of his features.

"Lovely evening isn't it," she suddenly spoke up.

The figure was almost startled by her words. "Daidouji-san?" his voice was soft and hoarse.

She recognized him. "Hiiragisawa-san," she replied.

She was surprised by his reaction to her greeting. Was he actually surprised by her presence? For the first time, she saw the Eriol without his usual composure and assurance. There was a new sadness welling in his sapphire orbs, something she thought would never found their way into his eyes. She studied him further. She realized that she have caught him at a moment of vulnerability. She turned away to look at the garden below her with her mind exploring this new side of Eriol she has just witnessed.

He turned to look at her instead. "I never thought you were interested in classical music, Daidouji-san," he told her. His voice had returned to its original confident tone.

She nodded to the distance. "But I am," she replied. Realizing that he had regained his poise, she returned his gaze. There was no trace of emotion in his eyes.

AN: Okay… that didn't make a whole lot of sense, now did it? I wrote the first half of the fic a long time ago. It was meant to be a one shot but when I began to finish it, I unintentionally changed the plot… so it's not a one shot anymore. So far I'm planning on three chapters.

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