Disclaimer: Insert standard disclaimer here.

The Tomoeda Arcana

Chapter Seven: Justice and The Wheel of Fortune

Tomoyo woke behind closed lids, a slow creeping awareness, like breaching the surface after a very long dive. She curled herself tighter, not wanting to face the day.

But she knew it was useless; she couldn't hide in sleep forever. She grudgingly opened her eyes.

The curtains had been left closed, but enough light seeped around the edges for her to see by. She took in the emerald green quilt she was lying on and the blue waffle-weave blanket she clutched possessively. The headboard stretched to a bedside lamp and an old-fashioned alarm clock, the bells just a melted clump of brass.

Hang on. Didn't she have a digital clock?

She sat up. This wasn't her room. This wasn't her bed. Those weren't her curtains and she certainly didn't have Alphonse Mucha prints on her walls.

Tomoyo pulled the blanket closer as the events of last night came flooding back. She remembered the park, the swings, Hiiragizawa finding her. She remembered that Ruby Moon and Spinel had arrived sometime after and carried her here. Yes here, wherever that was. She hadn't wanted to go home.

She had been half asleep through the entire journey. She dimly remembered dark passages and hushed voices; the spicy scent of Akizuki-san's hair flooding her senses. Someone, Hiiragizawa-kun probably, had said that she could sleep here, that she would be safe. She must have sighed, sobbed or made some sort of sound when he was about to leave the room, because he had rushed to her side instantly and promised that he would stay. She had fallen asleep wrapped in arms and a strange feeling that she had been here before.

Tomoyo rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked blankly around the room, startling herself when she caught her reflection in the mirror. With exasperation that she ever got into such a state, she left the bed and made an attempt at tidying herself up. She brushed at her dress, the beads rough against her palms, and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. Acknowledging that she couldn't do anything more, she left the room – but not before carefully folding the blanket and straightening the quilt.

Tomoyo paused at the foot of the stairs, unsure of what to do next. To the left she could smell the scent of freshly baked bread (which sent her stomach growling), while to the right she heard the murmur of voices. Her appetite and her curiosity waged a short but brutal battle, the latter emerging victorious. She walked softly towards the voices, her stomach grumbling with annoyance.

The voices got clearer with every step. Tomoyo stopped just beside the open doorway, her hand resting against the wood-paneled wall to steady herself.

"I don't like this picture of Touya-kun at all," one voice pouted. Akizuki-san.

"I thought you'd appreciate having him all tied up." This voice was more refined; dark and peaty like a fine whisky. Spinel-san.

"It's not that," said Akizuki-san, "it's his expression."

"What? He looks like his usual grumpy self."

Akizuki-san was outraged. "He is not grumpy, Suppi-chan."

"Well he doesn't exactly smile much either," Spinel pointed out.

"That's because he's pining for me," Akizuki-san said dreamily, "His lost love."

Spinel started coughing, though it sounded suspiciously like "Crazy, crazy."

"Did you say something, Suppi-chan?"

"Nope," Spinel coughed. "Hairball, thousand pardons." Expertly diverting the conversation he said, "This picture of Mizuki-sensei is quite nice."

"You think?" said Akizuki-san. "I reckon it makes her look kind of mean. And those robes," she scoffed, "they do nothing for her figure. You wouldn't catch me dead in those."

"You would have to be Death to be in those," said Spinel, smug at his turn of phrase.

"Ha, ha, Suppi-chan. Very clever," said a sarcastic Akizuki-san. Her voice turned lively again. "So, master, what's the secret behind these cards?"

"I don't know," this new voice was bleak, not the source of comfort it had been last night.

"Oooh," Akizuki-san cooed. "Then it must be a really big secret if even you don't know." There was a pause. "Nah, I don't believe it. Tell us the truth."

"That is the truth. I really don't know." There was a slight ruffle, like someone throwing up their arms in defeat. "They're just cards: standard ink, standard paper. Based on the Major Arcana of the Tarot. Using faces of people I know, or rather Daidouji-san knows. There's nothing evil about them."

"Oh, they're evil." Tomoyo's soft but determined voice was like a thunderclap. Spinel shot into the air, while Akizuki-san and Hiiragizawa-kun turned around to face her.

"Daidouji-san," said Hiiragizawa-kun from his place on the couch. "I thought you would still be asleep."

Akizuki-san left the side of the coffee table and bustled over to Tomoyo. "You must be hungry, Tomoyo-chan. I'll get you something to eat."

"You don't have to," Tomoyo said.

"It's no trouble," Akizuki-san assured with a smile and breezed out the door. Spinel followed, taking time to give Tomoyo a warm brush on the shoulder.

Tomoyo was left alone with Hiiragizawa-kun. She walked slowly around the lounge, he following every step, and sat down at the other end, satin cushions and a suede expanse separating her and him. She allowed her hair to fall forward: another obstacle to overcome.

"You really don't know what it is," Tomoyo stated.

Hiiragizawa shifted slightly. "I'm sorry."

The two cards gleamed balefully at them from the coffee table.

Tomoyo tucked her hair behind her ear and turned to Hiiragizawa-kun. "Maybe it would help if I told you the whole story."

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And she did just that.

She started with the Fool card and then all the other visitors, up to the latest two on the swing. She mentioned how they always took the form of people she knew and always seemed to know so much about her. The visitors had been getting more and more frequent: the last three incidents had occurred in the course of three days. In the beginning they had just been content to talk, but now they were providing flashbacks, snapshots of the past.

And they always left a card.

Now that she had started talking, she found that she couldn't stop. These card people had brought up feelings that she had thought she had dealt with, or a least buried deep.

The pain of losing Sakura was as keen as ever.

She felt stuck, trapped. It was as if she was standing at the bottom of a very deep well, the surface just a dim star high above. She didn't think she would ever get out.

When she finished, she had leapt off the couch, saying that she had better go home; she had taken up too much of his time already. A hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, staying her flight. He said he would come with her, to see these other cards. But that would have to wait till after breakfast; it was dangerous to leave Nakuru and Spinel alone with maple syrup.

She never thought that she would smile again, but she managed a small one.

It was a start.

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"Well, it could be worse," said Eriol.

"How could it possibly be any worse?" Tomoyo whirled on him with amazement.

Her bedroom was like the inside of a snow globe. The window had been left slightly open and so a breeze had snuck in, sending the scraps of material and tape flying through the air. A piece of gabardine danced by, following a floral print.

Eriol went cross-eyed when some yellow tulle landed on his nose. "It could be on fire," he answered.

"I wish. At least that way I wouldn't have to clean it." Tomoyo scampered to the window and closed it with a thud. The remnants of destruction stopped their party immediately.

Tomoyo turned back to the room and waved towards her bedside table. "The rest are in that box over there."

Eriol picked his way across the room, careful not to step on any pieces of clothing (the intact ones at least).

"Why you didn't destroy your uniform when you had the chance," Eriol shook his head, "I'll never know."

Eriol opened the box and took out the cards. He fanned the pack and neatly slotted the two that he had brought with him. Nope, still ordinary if slightly blurry cards. He thought it apt that Nakuru was the devil, and he chuckled at the sight of Clow Reed in a jester costume (he couldn't help himself). There were eleven cards here; the Major Arcana had twenty-two, so theoretically they were only half way through.

"If you weren't responsible for…that lot, then what were these for?"

Eriol looked up at her question. Tomoyo had started to rearrange all the clothes she had thrown on the floor. She had paused at a snowy white shirt, the lower hem flipped over, revealing a tiny black sun.

"Oh," Eriol said sheepishly, "you found them."

"Entirely by accident." She began folding and asked again. "What are they for?"

"They're just markers, homing beacons. I just needed to know where you were."

"So they don't cause hallucinations or things like that?"

"No, Daidouji-san." He returned the cards to their box and placed it back on the table. "There were just to make sure you were safe."

"Safe?" She gripped the shirt, sending creases through the fabric. "So you knew that something bad was going to happen?"

"Yes."

She threw the shirt to the floor. "Then why didn't you tell me?" she shouted.

"Would you've believed me?" he found himself shouting back. "And besides, I didn't want to alarm you."

"I think alarm would have been much better than what I've been through recently!"

"I know that now!"

They stared at each other, the gulf between them so much wider than a meter of carpet.

"I may be a magician, Daidouji, but I'm still human," Eriol said softly. "I can still make mistakes."

"You said you had to stay in Tomoeda for someone," Tomoyo said just as gently. "Was that me?"

"Yes." He reached out and removed a cobweb of lace that was trapped in her hair, a pitiful attempt to bridge this gap.

She didn't move away. Instead she reached up herself and caught his hand, twining her fingers with his.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the one who's suppose to do that."

"No. If it wasn't for me you'd be in England. You'd have your own life. Instead you're here, watching over me."

"So for once I get to play the hero. Indulge me," Eriol requested.

"If you're the hero, then what does that make me?" Tomoyo scoffed. "Damsel in Distress?"

"I was thinking Plucky Sidekick."

She smirked. "Then I better get started on our costumes. I think I've got some pink chiffon left over from last time."

"You'd look cute in pink," Eriol approved.

"I was thinking for you," Tomoyo pointed out.

"I don't wear pink," he said adamantly.

"It's more salmon, really," she said thoughtfully.

"I don't wear fish either."

And the chasm that had begun to yawn between them was suddenly closed by laughter and clasped hands.

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Eriol was stuck cleaning the media room. On his own because Tomoyo had decided that it was about time she changed her clothes. Heroes were quite capable of cleaning all by themselves, and sidekicks deserved the occasional hot bath. When she left Eriol shouted that they should renegotiate the contract.

As he surveyed the room, black tape crawling over every surface, shards of cassette crunching with every step, he debated with himself about using magic. But Eriol the Martyr was strong today and he decided to do this all by hand, that'll show Daidouji-san. It would be like the Twelve Labors of Hercules, the one where he cleans the stables.

He had just thrown the last reel into the garbage bag when Tomoyo popped her head around the door.

"Finished?" she said sweetly.

Eriol stood up and gestured around the now spotless room. Even the sewing basket was neatly positioned on the sofa. "Does my lady find this satisfactory?"

"Good," Tomoyo said with approval as she looked under the furniture for any pieces Eriol may have missed. "Now you can help me with my bedroom." She darted back inside. With a bowed head, Eriol followed her.

"Maybe we should just set it on fire," muttered Eriol.

"Just get to work, my hero." Tomoyo dropped to the floor and started to fish out the scraps that huddled underneath her desk.

Eriol knelt down beside her and gathered up a handful of fabric.

"Watch the glass!" Tomoyo warned.

Eriol froze, just beside his hand was a wicked looking piece of crystal. Other pieces glimmered nearby, looking just like frozen tears. Dozens of pink flowers were scattered all around. Tomoyo delicately picked up one of the blooms.

"Mother is going to be so mad."

"I could fix this, if you want," Eriol offered.

Tomoyo didn't answer straight away. "No, it's best if I face this." She resolutely put the flower in with the other rubbish, a small tattered bag followed soon after.

They worked together in companionable silence till Tomoyo suddenly asked, "Aren't we suppose to be in school?"

"I called and said that we were sick."

"And they believed you?" Tomoyo was uncertain.

"I sounded amazingly convincing," Eriol said smugly, like he was hiding something. Seeing that Tomoyo still wasn't satisfied he decided to come clean. "I'm quite adept at imitations, if I do say so myself. But we better go tomorrow or they might come and visit."

Mystery solved, they went back to their cleaning.

They stopped again when they heard noises coming from the media room. Eriol got up and crept towards the doorway, motioning for her to stay put. Tomoyo ignored him and followed right behind. They peered inside.

There were two giant butterflies floating in the room and they were playing with…

"Get away from that," Eriol shouted and stalked forward. "I don't want to clean this room again." He snatched the rubbish bag from these interlopers and made sure it hadn't been punctured.

"Touchy, touchy," mocked one of the butterflies, or rather owner of the butterfly wings. Spinel Sun in his panther form stood before them, tail lashing like a whip.

"Why is he even here, anyway?" said the second butterfly: Ruby Moon in the sequined evening gown of a game show hostess. He perched himself on the armrest and studied his nails.

"Because she wants him here," Spinel tilted his head towards Tomoyo, sending the tiny set of scales in his ear swaying.

Ruby Moon huffed with contempt. "That'll change."

Tomoyo went to stand beside Eriol. "So do you know what they are?" she whispered into his ear.

Eriol knew what they weren't: they weren't magic that's for sure. And since magic only effects magic, hurling a fireball at them would be useless. When he extended all his senses towards them he encountered nothing, literally nothing; his mind shied away from the very thought. These creatures were the dark between the stars, absolute zero, the space between the worlds of creation.

"They're trouble," he could only reply.

Ruby Moon's doppelganger looked up from his nails. "Had a good look, handsome?"

Spinel Sun slunk past them. "Perhaps we should give them something to look at." He stopped within the doorway and called over his shoulder, "Coming?"

Ruby Moon flared his wings and shepherded Eriol and Tomoyo towards the bedroom.

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It was a nursery, or rather it was suppose to be a nursery, instead it looked like the baby section of a toy store. A cot the size of a single bed stood to one side, camouflaged by dozens of soft-toys. A giant tiger loomed in one corner, practically life-like except for that goofy grin on its face. The walls had been painted with pictures of fairies and cuddly animals. Eriol's teeth were starting to melt from the sugariness of it all.

The nursery wasn't deserted, however. Sitting under the window, playing with a small sheep, was a little girl.

Faux Ruby Moon spun into the room, buttery light flashing off his sequins. "Would you look at all this stuff," he said with amazement.

Tomoyo wasn't paying attention. She had hesitantly walked over to the little girl and had dropped cautiously to the floor in front of her. She quietly studied the long black hair, the extremely pale skin, the dark lashes that rimmed purple eyes.

Eriol perched himself on the nearby windowsill. "You've hardly changed at all."

Tomoyo didn't answer: it isn't everyday that you encounter your younger self.

Spinel Sun had prowled his way to the giant tiger and was now boxing it playfully on the nose. "Just you wait. The show's not over yet," he said cryptically.

Suddenly the door that led to the hallway flung open and in barged two ladies (neither of them seemed to have noticed the gatecrashers). A subdued Sonomi followed soon after.

"It's gorgeous, Sonomi-san," said one of the women, the one who wore a light pink business suit.

"It's positively heavenly," the other cooed. She flipped her yellow scarf over her shoulder, completely oblivious to the imitations of Ruby Moon.

The women started to flit through the room, singing the praises of everything from the carpet to the light fittings. Sonomi leaned against the doorjamb, content to let the fashion police inspect the nursery.

Then the women finally spotted Tomoyo.

"Such a pretty child," said the buttercup lady.

"She's so adorable," added the strawberry one. "Sonomi-san, you must be so proud."

Buttercup clutched at Strawberry's arm and stage whispered, "She looks remarkably like Nadeshiko-chan, no?"

"It's the hair," Strawberry replied knowingly. "Nadeshiko-chan always wore her hair like that."

"She still does." Sonomi had decided to join the conversation.

"Does she now?" Strawberry wondered. "You've seen her recently? I heard she hasn't been feeling well. Poor thing."

"Just around town," Sonomi said vaguely, not wishing to talk about Nadeshiko's health.

Strawberry was scandalized. "Better not let Grandfather hear about that. He would not be pleased." She gave an exaggerated sigh. "Ever since she ran off with that teacher, our Nadeshiko-chan is practically dead to him."

Throughout this exchange, Buttercup had kept on scrutinizing Tomoyo. "It's a pity her hair is so dark, Sonomi-san. Then we would have a miniature Nadeshiko-chan with us."

"We should blame her father for that," sulked Strawberry. "Where is that husband of yours anyway, Sonomi?"

"Out," was Sonomi's short answer.

"I wonder..." said Buttercup, still fixed on the young Tomoyo.

Buttercup walked over to one of the shelves and gathered a handful of toys. Tomoyo looked up with curiosity but otherwise made no other move. Buttercup then proceeded to carefully scatter them all over the floor, filling the distance between Tomoyo and her mother with brightly colored bundles. She then rejoined her companions.

"Tomoyo-chan," Buttercup called. "Little Nadeshiko, come here little Nadeshiko."

Keeping a firm grip on her sheep, Tomoyo slowly got to her feet and started to toddle towards her mother. The onlooker Tomoyo reached out a hand in some halfhearted attempt to stop herself. When the young Tomoyo got to the first toy, a wooden turtle with wheels instead of legs, she stopped and carefully stepped over it. She did the same for the life-like baby deer, and the porcelain doll, and all the other toys after that. When she finally reached the women she smiled at them in triumph and lifted up her arms for a hug.

Buttercup turned to Strawberry. "Did you see that?"

"I know."

"Didn't even trip once."

"Our Nadeshiko-chan wouldn't have even made it past the teddy bear."

"Our Nadeshiko-chan wouldn't have made it off the floor."

Still ignoring Tomoyo, the women spun Sonomi around and marched her out the room. "Sonomi-san, we must tell you about our plans for the summer…" The door clicked shut behind them.

Seeing that she wasn't going to get a hug after all Tomoyo let her arms drop to her sides. Little Tomoyo turned around and tottered back to her place under the window, expertly negotiating the obstacle course just like before. The older Tomoyo welcomed her by reaching out and gently brushing her hair.

Spinel, who had been completely forgotten during the whole performance, had crept up to Tomoyo's shoulder to whisper into her ear, "You were always a poor replacement."

The younger Tomoyo lifted her eyes for some reason, and for the briefest moment Tomoyo was staring across the years; she couldn't tell if the loneliness that she saw was an echo of the past or a reflection of the present.

And then Little Tomoyo vanished, taking the nursery and the card people with her.

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The recently departed visitors stared up from the carpet, surrounded by patches of linen and satin; Spinel Sun above the words 'The Justice' and Ruby Moon above 'The Wheel of Fortune'.

"You're right," said Tomoyo, still seated on the floor. "I haven't changed at all."

"What do you mean?" Eriol allowed himself to slide down the wall.

"This loneliness," she explained. "It's nothing new. I've always had it."

Eriol plucked the new cards off the carpet and tossed them onto the bed; out of sight out of mind he figured.

"Loneliness does have its uses," said Eriol.

"How can something so sad be useful?"

"Because it makes us reach out to others. It makes us want to touch the lives of others, so that they can touch our own."

"That seems selfish."

"Sometimes we have to be selfish." He studied her for a moment. "We are all searching for someone, Daidouji-san."

"I thought the person I was searching for was Sakura," she said glumly. "How wrong I was," she added bitterly and let her hair fall forward, to hide herself again.

Eriol snapped his fingers. All the scraps of material started to twitch and slowly levitate off the floor. They bunched together and swirled in the air, like a shoal of fish or flock of starlings. They swept under the bed, gathering up more pieces, and circled the bedpost before congealing into a blob that burst into a rain of sparks.

Something dropped onto Tomoyo's head.

"Ow," she protested, "what was that for?"

"Knock the gloominess out of you," Eriol chuckled. "And I wasn't in the mood for anymore cleaning."

Tomoyo grabbed the object so she could throw it back at him, but she stopped when she realized what it was. It was a toy sheep, but instead of a white fleece it was clothed in scraps of velvet and lace and cotton; all the battle costumes she had made and ruined were packed in this tiny toy.

As she stroked a tartan ear, Eriol said, "Something can always be made from the most awful of situations."