Did I really update this last May? Heh, heh...heh...

ANYWAYS...

I would advise you to skim Five: Eriol again, just so you can refresh your memory. A minor detail revealed in that chapter contributes to what I've established here, but it's not that big of a deal. Hint: it has to deal with Eriol's travel itinerary.

VIII. Tomoyo & Eriol

Tokyo, Japan

"I-I think I love him."

It came out in a bare whisper, but somehow her ears had caught it and her large green eyes widened in shock.

"Really?"

"Y-yes."

She squealed. "Oh, that is just wonderful! I'm so happy for you, Tomoyo!" Leaping up from the couch, she flung her arms around her neck in a bone-crushing hug that one wouldn't have expected her seemingly frail-looking body to be capable of.

She pulled back. "Have you told him yet?"

She shook her head. "N-no."

There was a bewildered look on her face. "Well why not?" she demanded.

"I…I just can't." She sighed dejectedly.

"What do you mean you can't?" Her normally melodic voice had taken on an edge, but it was still a soft reprimand at the most. "Tomoyo, look at me."

Obeying, she raised her head.

"You are a beautiful, desirable woman."

"Sakura…"

"You are so gorgeous that every time he sees you, he wants to get down on one knee and propose to you."

She giggled. "Stop it Sakura, you're making me blush."

"Am I? Good. Because you need to be glowing when he comes through the front door in two minutes' time to sweep you off your feet and carry you away on his white horse so the two of you can ride off into the sunset together."

There was a moment's pause before they both burst into laughter at the utter ridiculousness of her romantic predictions.

"What?" She managed to choke out, "I thought that was very good!"

"It was very good," she agreed.

When the giggling fit finally subsided, they sat in comfortable silence.

"You know," she ventured forth, breaking the stillness, "you should tell him."

"And get my heart broken?"

She slapped her arm. "Don't be such a pessimist, Tomoyo. Look on the bright side, won't you? Be an optimist. Take risks.

Live."

She jolted awake, as though someone had slapped her face hard. There was a sharp intake of breath, but not from her.

"Oh my god," came a feminine voice from her right, "you frightened me. Are you alright?"

Tomoyo turned towards the voice, and found herself looking at a middle-aged woman. She had one hand upon her chest, no doubt trying to calm her still racing heart thanks to Tomoyo's sudden outburst, and was staring at her concernedly.

"I-I'm fine," she managed to breathe.

As the woman returned to her previous task, Tomoyo surveyed her surroundings. Her churning subconscious had left her mind blurry, and only when she saw a stewardess pass by her and small windows did she remember that she was on a plane heading for Tokyo.

"Ranma Tsumori and his fiancée Sakura Kinomoto."

Involuntarily, Tomoyo shivered.

"The stewardess left this for you when you were sleeping."

Tomoyo looked up to see her seatmate produce a boxed meal from out of nowhere.

"You should eat a bit. We'll be landing soon."

Tomoyo gave a small smile of thanks before slowly tearing the plastic off.

If the woman was Sakura, then she was going to need all the energy she could get to stop an impending disaster.

Eriol couldn't stop musing at how ironic the situation was. Upon arriving in Tokyo yesterday, he had immediately begun to curse how much of a city it was: the polluted air, the crowds of people, the skyscrapers and the endless neon—all signs of the blossoming modernity that the world was embracing. Yet now, he was feeling more soothed and relaxed than he had in a long time, and he was still in the blasted city.

Well, part of the city.

They were at Rikugien, one of Tokyo's most beautiful landscape gardens. Eriol had wanted to see the setting of the event he was planning for so he could get a feel for the decorations and Ranma, ever the gracious host, had taken the rare day off work to accompany him on a stroll through the park where the wedding reception was to take place. It was a gorgeous spring day, and the cherry blossom trees were in full bloom.

"I wanted to have the reception in this ballroom that was just built downtown," Ranma said conversationally as the two men walked along a concrete path littered with pink petals, "but Sakura insisted on having it here. She doesn't like being cooped up, said she wants at least half her wedding to take place outside."

She smiled, her jade-green eyes sparkling with pure happiness.

"I do."

And on a cliff overlooking the glittering Caribbean ocean with the warm breeze blowing through her wavy auburn hair, she leaned forward and kissed her new husband.

He tore his eyes away from a young couple walking hand in hand over a bridge.

"She picked a beautiful place."

"I didn't put up too much of a fight." Ranma pointed to the delicate blossoms hovering above them. "It's fitting for her to start a new life in a place blooming with the flowers for which she was named."

The two men continued along the paved pathway, one talking nonstop, the other listening quietly.

"You haven't met Sakura yet, have you?"

Eriol looked up.

I don't know.

"No, I haven't."

Ranma snorted in disbelief. "Here I am, singing praises of her, and you don't even know who she is! I'm so sorry, I really am terrible at this type of business transaction."

Eriol shook his head. "Oh, no matter."

"When are you leaving?"

"In two days."

"Well, you have to meet my fiancée before then. You need to at least know the other half of the duo you're working for before returning to supervise the wedding in a few months. Are you free tomorrow evening?"

"Ranma, I'm here at your beck and call."

Eriol's employer laughed. "As bad as that sounds, it's true. There's a company party tomorrow, hosted by my firm. Sakura will be accompanying me, and you'll meet her as well as many of the wedding guests. I'll have my driver pick you up at six. The dress code isn't formal, but stick with a dress shirt and some nice slacks."

Eriol nodded. "Sounds good."

"Oh, one more thing." Ranma grinned. "If you want, I can get you a date to escort you for the evening."

At the alarmed look on Eriol's face, he roared with laughter before choking out, "Not that way. I'm talking about a matter of appearance. Single men are never viewed as favorably as those who have a woman by their side. It'll save you a lot of trouble from the bored matrons too."

Eriol sighed. "If you insist."

Ranma beamed. "Great. There are a lot of single young interns at my firm. I'll get you the prettiest."

"I hope Sakura doesn't know you have an eye for those things," Eriol said dryly.

"I have enough eye candy to last me a lifetime."

It was noon the next day when Tomoyo's flight landed in Tokyo. Bleary-eyed and still disoriented from the hours-long flight, she reapplied her makeup—slapped it on, really—before sluggishly making her way out of the plane along with the rest of the passengers. She was tired and irritable, and having to pass through Customs did nothing for her strained nerves. By the time she made it through the long line and rude officials, Tomoyo was ready to scream. The only thing preventing her from doing so was the certain consequences that would result from her less-than-sane actions.

"Where do I go from here?" Tomoyo sighed, not bothering to take a look at the signs that she knew were there. She was intentionally trying to make the lives of the customs officials difficult for holding her up so long.

"Baggage claim," the man said shortly, pointing at the board hanging above their heads.

"And where will I meet my means of transportation?"

"There should be people holding up signs with your name on it in the area," the man said dismissively.

Satisfied that she had annoyed her prickly customs official, Tomoyo walked off. She easily followed the signs leading her to the baggage claim, where she immediately slumped onto a bench, limbs sprawled out everywhere. At that moment, Tomoyo didn't care about her glamorous image—let the press photograph the usually impeccable Daidouji Tomoyo sitting like a slob.

While she waited for the carousels to begin rotating, Tomoyo wondered if she had a ride. Chantal had notified the Hong Kong offices, which in turn should have called this Ranma Tsumori and told him that she accepted. Common courtesy required him to arrange a ride for her, right?

Her question was answered moments later when a shadow fell over her and Tomoyo looked up to see a stern-looking woman with glasses and her hair pulled tightly back.

"Daidouji-san?"

"Yes?"

"Shimizu Kara. I'm Tsumori Ranma's secretary, and I've come to pick you up."

Ten minutes later, the two women climbed into a black Lexus and headed into town.

"Tsumori-san apologizes for not picking you up himself. He had an appointment with the event planner for his wedding."

Tomoyo shook her head. "Not at all. Thank Tsumori-san for looking out for me."

"You are his guest," the woman said simply. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a sheaf of papers, which she handed to Tomoyo.

"Tsumori-san has booked you a room at the Park Hyatt. If you don't like it, feel free to stay somewhere else. Tsumori-san is paying for everything."

Tomoyo blinked. "Oh, no, that sounds perfectly fine. Thank you very much."

"This is your hotel reservation. Since you flew in on such short notice, we haven't booked you a return flight. Do you know when you plan to return to Paris? I can make the arrangements for you."

"Designing wedding dresses is a nasty business. All the measuring, sewing, fitting…" Tomoyo gave a little laugh. "I don't think I'll be leaving soon."

Shimizu raised an eyebrow. "I see."

They lapsed into silence, Tomoyo more than a little uncomfortable around her new client's stiff secretary. An electronic ping broke the tension, and Shimizu pulled out her Blackberry. Scanning the screen, she said to Tomoyo, "Tsumori-san is heading back into town right now. If you're not tired, he would like to meet with you."

She was exhausted, but in the end her manners got the best of her.

"Tell him I'd be happy to see him."

Shimizu nodded, and promptly replied her boss. A couple minutes later, the device sounded again, alerting them to Tsumori's message.

"To make things easier on you, he'll come to the Park Hyatt at six tonight and you two will have dinner at the New York Grill. He hopes you like American."

Tomoyo shrugged. "I could care less."

They arrived at the hotel shortly after, where Shimizu checked in for Tomoyo and had the driver unload her bags and carry them up to her room on the 37th floor. As Tomoyo got in the elevator, she saw a man with blue-black hair and glasses walk through the front doors.

For a moment, her heart literally stopped. But then the doors of the elevator slid shut and Tomoyo found herself alone.

Alone…like always.

Shaking her head, she convinced herself that she was an easy victim of jet-lag.

Upon checking into her hotel room, Tomoyo pulled on thin silk chemise and slipped under the covers, where she promptly fell asleep. When she woke up a few hours later, it was half past five and the sky outside had turned into an artist's palette of dusky blues and muted oranges. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, Tomoyo sat up and groaned at what felt like a seismic shift of brain matter within the confines of her skull.

What time did I have to go to dinner? Six?

Yawning, she trudged to the bathroom to freshen up. After rinsing her mouth and redoing her make-up and hair, Tomoyo came out and unzipped her suitcase. Pulling out a frothy blue chiffon number by Marchesa, she slipped it on and surveyed herself in the mirror.

"You are a beautiful, desirable woman."

The tears started flowing then.

Eriol was dining by the window at the New York Grill when he saw Ranma for the second time that day.

"Eriol! Fancy seeing you here," Ranma greeted, sliding into the empty seat across the table.

"After you dropped me off, I went upstairs and took a nap." He took a sip of his wine. "I was too lazy and tired to go anywhere far for dinner."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But you'd be hard-pressed to find a better restaurant than this one in Tokyo. Just get a look of this view!"

They both looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows to see the sun begin its descent over the horizon and Tokyo start lighting up. It was only half past five; the restaurant had just opened and Eriol had managed to snag one of the coveted window seats and avoid the evening crowd.

"Are you here for dinner too?" He asked.

"I'm meeting the dress designer here in half an hour. She just flew in from Paris this afternoon and I didn't want to tax her too much by dragging her away from her hotel."

"I see."

"Dinner is served."

They looked up to see a waiter set down a tray. Ranma marveled at how fast Eriol got his dinner.

"I ordered ahead," Eriol explained. "Avoid the noise and the crowds that are already starting to pour in." He motioned to the entrance, where a few people had just arrived and were being seated.

"Tactful," Ranma nodded. "I didn't even think about it."

Eriol picked up his fork. "Why isn't Sakura handling this dress business?"

"She was just promoted to vice president of her advertising firm and she's moving in with me. She has a lot on her plate right now."

The two men continued to make small talk while Eriol finished his dinner. It was seven when the utensils were cleared away and Eriol stood up.

"I'll be leaving now. Have fun."

It was ten minutes after seven when Tomoyo finally made it out of her room and up to the 52nd floor of the hotel, where the New York Grill was located. Usually she prided herself on being able to get ready for an event in twenty minutes or less, but the unprecedented crying episode had messed up her mascara and forced her to stay an extra fifteen minutes in her room so she could calm down, wait for her eyes to de-puff, and redo her entire face.

Never in her life had she felt such appreciation for a total stranger who had the foresight to predict her needs.

"I'm meeting Tsumori Ranma," she told the waitress, who nodded and beckoned for her to follow. She was led to a table for two by the windows, where a handsome, dark-haired man sat. Upon seeing her, he got up.

"Daidouji-san, it's a pleasure. Call me Ranma." His voice was low and pleasant, and Tomoyo felt herself taking to him, despite the knowledge that his fiancée was quite possibly her best friend.

"Tomoyo. Thank you for doing this," she smiled. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate not having to travel far to get my meal."

"I was always taught to never inconvenience a lady."

"Your fiancée is a very lucky woman."

Ranma sighed. "I keep trying to tell Sakura that but I'm afraid she doesn't believe me."

"That's a pretty name," Tomoyo ventured forth slowly. "What's her last name?"

"Kinomoto. Kinomoto Sakura."

"How'd you meet her?"

Ranma flipped a page in his menu. "She works at Tokyo Advertising, the ad agency that handles the account for the corporation I work for. We met a year ago when the company prepared to go global and needed an approved international image. She was the liaison between them and us."

Sakura disappeared two years ago.

Tomoyo forced the smile back onto her face. "Will she be joining us tonight?"

"I'm afraid not. She's just been promoted, so she's working long hours to prove her worth. Not to mention she's moving in with me too."

"All while preparing to get married. An able woman," Tomoyo remarked.

"Oh, she's brilliant." Ranma agreed.

"When do I get to meet her?"

"She'll be at the company party tomorrow night. If you're free tomorrow evening, come and meet the rest of the wedding party. I've invited just about everyone on the wedding payroll. I know Sakura would be so happy to meet you."

Tomoyo froze. "She would be?"

"She just loves your work, personally handpicked you to design the entire wardrobe for her and the bridesmaids."

She deflated. "I see." She reached for her wine and took a deep gulp. "I'll be there."

Ranma's eyes suddenly shot up and a grin lit up his face. "Do you have a date?"

Tomoyo stuttered. "N-no, I'm alone in this city."

"Perfect. I just talked to my event planner this morning, and I told him I was going to get him a date with one of my firm's interns. Instead, why not pair you two up?"

Tomoyo shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

"Great. You won't regret it, Tomoyo. The man's a great catch."

The good thing about updating so slowly over the course of two years is that you see how much my writing style's changed!

*crickets chirp*

Okay nevermind.