The Heart Has Seasons

Chapter 2: A False Spring

Co-authored with YamiNoTomoyo. No, actually, she wrote more than half of this (bows head in shame) and I was the one who caused the delay, darn. Thank her for kicking my butt into finishing this! (Actually she threatened me. Enough said XD)

No, we don't own them (crawls off somewhere to cry)

Spring is for Blossoms

Tomoyo couldn't put a finger on when it was she had begun to change. In truth, since childhood, Tomoyo's life had been centered around other people: her mother Sonomi's unspoken wish for her to be beautiful and perfect; being Sakura's sidekick and best friend; the school paragon of beauty, virtue, and talent; the good girl, the smart one who always had an answer for everything and who could understand anything.

She had a quick mind; school lessons often amused her, rather than boring her. Her mind operated at a higher level than that; she was already solving algebra equations when they were but in grade six. In high school, she finally found a challenge: physics, chemistry, geometry, and the other sciences. Music, she realized, was an equation in itself; sharps, flats, tempos could be translated into mathematical formulas. Explaining the emotional component of music was harder, though; when she wrote a paper on it in senior year, she had had no one to talk to.

Sakura had tried, desperately, to understand; she, bless her innocent little heart, had even done some research on the side so that she could try to understand Tomoyo's thesis. But the math had defeated her, and shamefacedly, she had confessed her failure to Tomoyo, who had merely hugged her. That was why Sakura was her best friend, why she would never leave. Sakura would try anything for Tomoyo to keep her happy.

The music teacher had given her perfect marks for the paper, though Tomoyo was not convinced that the paper deserved it. She felt she did not know enough to merit it; one of her outline points, which attempted to show emotion as a variable constant in a musical equation. Yet the term "variable constant" nagged at her; it felt wrong somehow but not having someone who understood the subject matter, Tomoyo had not known how to revise it.

She'd left the paper on the counter of the Kinomoto kitchen as she came to visit right before the finals; Sakura was terrified she would flub Advanced Algebra, and had begged Tomoyo for tutoring, saying her older brother would just mock her if she asked him for it. When Tomoyo came downstairs to fetch some tea, she found Touya Kinomoto reading through it. He looked up at her, and calmly said, "I think the term you were searching for was 'constant random variable.' But I'd argue that point. You're saying that emotion in music is always there. What of bad music then, the cheap pop pap fed to us by commercial artists?"

"Oh, but I think their audiences still feel something in the music, otherwise they wouldn't buy it in droves, right?"

"Then it is no longer emotion rooted in the music, thus no longer a constant random variable, so to speak, for your theory," Touya leaned back and smiled at her. "The emotion is attached to the artist—and I use the term loosely. Therefore it is possible for no emotion to be constantly present in any song—if that were true then a random collection of notes has emotion in it, right?" He whistled tunelessly, and Tomoyo smiled, chagrined.

"Could the words be part of the equation then?" she ventured.

"Yes," Touya mused, "but what of classics such as 'Rhapsody in Blue'?"

"That's a beautiful piece," Tomoyo smiled.

"That it is. It has no words, yet it stirs you," he pointed out.

"I wish I'd been able to consult you about my paper," she said wistfully. "I had no one to talk to during the drafting and revising process."

"Don't hesitate, next time. Especially since your teacher is clearly an idiot who didn't want to give you a lower grade because he was afraid he would betray his ignorance and laziness," Touya rolled his eyes. In the fading sunlight, Tomoyo realized how beautiful they were.

"Thank you," Tomoyo said gratefully.

"It was nothing," Touya shrugged. They smiled at each other for a while, then Tomoyo remembered the tea, put off the kettle, and went upstairs.

Touya followed, to their surprise, and helped teach Sakura Advanced Algebra. His mocks and taunts, to Tomoyo's surprise, spurred Sakura to wrap her mind around concepts faster; she soon realized they really were tokens of affection for his sister. She watched him: how his hair fell into his eyes, how his chin was saved from femininity by the darkening of stubble, how his lips moved.

And she felt the first stirrings of attraction; it took Tomoyo some time to figure it out because she'd never been attracted to a boy before.

In truth she'd always known how handsome Touya was; as a child she'd had the tiniest of crushes on him because he reminded her of Sakura. But now—they could talk, and he never treated her as though she was six years younger than him.

Every afternoon, she and Sakura stopped by the Kinomoto house for tea or reviews for the finals or, after they were over, to talk about the day's events and giggle over them. Touya frequently put on an appearance, and Tomoyo learned to relax in, and look forward to, his presence.

And then things fell apart. To Tomoyo's shame, when Sakura came to her after graduation day with the news that her then-boyfriend Kito had raped her (and even then Sakura had used the words, "made me have sex with him and it really hurt," and Tomoyo felt the first stirrings of hate in her heart) Tomoyo had stayed calm—but was furious. How could she have missed it? How could she have not prevented this?

Guiltily, she answered her own question: because that was the spring when she had first begun to acknowledge her love for Touya Kinomoto. Eighteen and wise beyond her years, Tomoyo realized that Touya had been a presence on the edge of her consciousness for a long time, until that night when she had arrived at the Kinomoto house after the awful attack on Sakura and found herself alone with him.

"Oh, sorry!" Tomoyo had gasped when she had let herself in, and found herself face to face with Touya. "I didn't mean to intrude…"

"It's all right," Touya said, and then he looked at Tomoyo carefully. He had watched Tomoyo grow from a wise little girl to a sad young woman, and could not explain why he was irresistibly drawn to her. She was nothing like Kaho Mizuki, his first lover; she had guided him gently into manhood when he was fifteen, and he would forever be grateful. It was when he began to notice the soft curves of her neck, the way her hips swayed, how her lips opened softly, that he realized with a shock that he was beginning to lust after, of all people, Sakura's best friend, his cousin and practically his sister.

He'd taken a chance on coming home; perhaps she would be there. He'd waited, and when the clock struck nine, he wondered why Sakura wasn't home. Instead Tomoyo had walked through the door—and that was when their lives changed forever.

Now, they merely stared at each other in the darkness of the house. The chill of spring still carried the bite of winter with it. She longed to tell Touya what had happened to Sakura, but Sakura had made her promise never to tell; Touya had hated Kito on sight and had gone out of his way to be nasty to the young man. She feared that Touya might seek revenge, and did not want her brother to wind up in jail. Wasn't it so like Sakura to be concerned about the asshole, Tomoyo thought, even when she's hurting?

"Something's happened to Sakura," Touya said softly.

Tomoyo stood there, Sakura's key dangling from a golden tiger stuffed toy keychain in her hand. Of course he had noticed; he was the only one who noticed the same things she did. It would be many years later before Tomoyo would find someone else who could see with her eyes—and worse, see right through her at times. But their meeting was many years off at this point, and she knew she had to distract Touya.

"Sakura-chan is fine. She's at my house and I just came to get things for her," she lied desperately; in truth Sakura was being treated for post-abuse trauma by a private doctor whom Tomoyo had paid hard cash for her silence.

Touya looked at her with the look that told her, Don't lie, I can see right through you.

"I'm sorry." She turned to flee up the stairs to Sakura's bedroom. Quickly she threw open Sakura's cabinet and began shoving panties, bras, shirts, skirts—anything into her pink tote bag.

She didn't realize Touya was behind her until someone put hands on her shoulders and turned her around. They stared at each other; outside the window, an unseasonable snow began to fall. Tomoyo didn't even realize she was crying until Touya put a finger to her cheek and gently wiped the tears away.

He didn't say, Stop crying or Don't cry; it was with wonder that Tomoyo noticed his lips were on hers. And she gave herself up to the forbidden kiss; they both knew so many reasons why they shouldn't, and yet they did.

Tomoyo found herself pushed back onto Sakura's bed, but she did not protest; she reached up to cup Touya's face in her hands and looked at him, really looked at him, in wonderment. Neither of them uttered the clichés newlyfound lovers shared; they simply were not the kind, and they did not want to demean the magical stolen moment with such drivel. Instead Touya let Tomoyo trace, with a finger, his cheeks, his ears, his eyelids, his nose, and finally, his lips. When she let go, he returned the favor, and she watched his eyes carefully. All she could see in the scant light from the window was a look of wonderment, and when he bent his dark head down to kiss her again, she accepted the kiss gratefully.

Soon his tongue pushed into her mouth, and she yielded, feeling free for the first time in her life. This was what she had to give, and she gave it to him gratefully; for how long they kissed, she could not remember. He did not push her for more than what she could give; he did not try to strip her, or fondle her body.

Then he stopped. He did not push himself away from her; merely, he lay there and held her in his arms, breathing in her scent. The snow fell as they lay in each other's arms, knowing that what they felt was like a fragile little flower that they both wished to nurture.

When they realized that darkness had fallen, he picked up her cell phone from where it had dropped, and punched in a number; Tomoyo knew he would ring his own phone, so he could store her number there.

He returned the phone to her, then took up a tendril of her long hair, kissing it softly. He helped her up; hand in hand they came down the stairs. Tomoyo had brought no car; she'd left her limousine with Sakura at the clinic to take her home after the examination. Touya grabbed some keys off the counter, and ushered Tomoyo to the small subcompact the Kinomotos owned; he would drive her home.

Safe and warm, they did not speak as he took her to the Daidouji mansion; at the gate, he cut the engine and looked at Tomoyo once again. The look told her much, and when he spoke, she wasn't surprised when he asked, "Are you sure about this?"

Tomoyo nodded, and he gathered her into his arms, breathing her in. She had never seen Touya this emotional in her long years of knowing him, and she was surprised that she could bring this out of him.

"Are you?" she asked against his shoulder.

"Do you—should I…break up with…" Touya began.

She put a finger over his lips. "Don't."

He knew it was useless to argue, and instead, he kissed her once again. It took all of Tomoyo's willpower to pull away; he leapt out of his side and opened her door. Out of the line of sight of the gate camera, he kissed her again as the snow whirled around them.

"You don't know how long I've wanted you," Touya said.

Tomoyo smiled. "Then you understood me all along."

"That's why I took a chance tonight. I didn't expect you to be there at home, and when you appeared, I…just had to," Touya said softly. "Take care of Sakura. You're the only one I trust with her. Is she badly hurt?"

Tomoyo shook her head; it was the only answer she could give, and not strictly a lie because physically Sakura was not badly hurt—emotionally though, she had no idea.

"Take care of her for me then." Touya stroked her cheek then waited as Tomoyo used her security card to open the house gates. Then he drove off.

His gesture of supreme trust in her almost took Tomoyo's breath away, and she cherished that memory for a long time to come. And it was a long time before they met again. Neither called the other, nor even sent a text message; those kisses were like a sacred moment neither wished to destroy. Yet they both kept the other's number in their directories, even as their cell phone models changed and became more advanced.

The longing for Tomoyo that he felt burned at Touya, and he plunged headlong into his relationship with Yukito. If Yukito had sensed the conflict churning in his partner, he never said a word, and his patience tore into Touya, like a physical ache. Sometimes he was unable to reciprocate when Yukito was affectionate; he wound up apologizing profusely, and their relationship soon became a loving, if non-physical one, much to Touya's relief. That girl had stolen his heart and desires, and had he only had the courage to end things with Yukito, he would have. But he could not; it is one of those mysteries of the heart that we can be cowards at doing the right thing, so afraid of hurting others that we choose to do the things that will hurt them more in the long run.

Tomoyo threw herself into the whirl of college, unsurprised when she was not as often asked out as Sakura. She preferred it that way. Sometimes she was tempted to call Touya and ask him to just come and be with her, but each time her hand picked up her cell phone, her heart trembled, and she realized she could not do it—because she knew he would come. And from what Sakura had told her, he and Yukito were still together. No, she would not do it. She could not do it.

Two full turns of the seasons passed before they found themselves face to face again after Sakura dragged Tomoyo home during the spring break, right before their third year in college. Touya was there, to their surprise; Sakura had flung herself at him and glomped him, earning herself the insult, "You're heavy, monster!" But as he held his sister, Touya's eyes burned into Tomoyo's, and found that his desires were reciprocated, to his relief.

Soon Sakura bounded up to her bedroom, calling behind her, "Am just gonna bathe and freshen up! Onii-chan, be nice to Tomoyo!" leaving them in the basement/library together. Even before the shower started, they were in each other's arms, kissing almost desperately. Time had not blunted their longing for one another; Touya was now finishing medical school, and Tomoyo had entered the university music conservatory. He had stopped by to check on the house, and both of them knew it had not been a mere coincidence. Time had chosen to bring them together again.

When Sakura came down an hour later, freshly bathed and changed, Tomoyo was in the kitchen brewing some tea and Touya was watching the news. They all ate dinner together, chatting about old times, and Touya fondly watched his sister.

That night, as Sakura slept in her room, Tomoyo was visited in the guest room by Touya, and this time, they went beyond mere kisses. Soon they were meeting once a month, sometimes more often, and since Tomoyo and Sakura now shared a dorm room at the university, they sometimes met at the Kinomoto house. They did not speak much; the language of lips and tongues was theirs in the moments they stole from the world. Soon it was Christmas, and Sakura had joined Fujitaka Kinomoto in Cambodia, while Yukito had flown off to Australia to join his grandparents for the holidays.

Both knew that their relationship would be taken to new heights that season of snow, and they made love for the first time as the snow fell breathlessly outside. Touya took a long time preparing Tomoyo for their union; while he knew her body well from their many makeout sessions, he did not intend to hurry her along. She gave herself up to him, and when he joined them, she felt only a little pain—the joy of being one with him was perfect.

Five years passed like a beautiful blur, the only interruptions being when Sakura was traumatized by Emile, and dumped by Yue about a year before Touya, Yukito, and Fujitaka died.

Tomoyo had kept her composure through it all, save for that terrible moment when she had miscarried Touya's baby. Eriol had been there, taking care of her, steadfastly protective, as always. After Touya, he was the only one who really knew and accepted her—yet there was something undefinable in him that Tomoyo found herself curious about. But to ask him about it would not be playing fair; after all he'd helped hide her affair with Touya for three years.

It was when Touya died that she realized Eriol was in love with her, and she almost laughed. She wanted to yell at him, to ask him why he hadn't taken her away from Touya, why he hadn't offered her his love and the possibility of an affair which wouldn't have to be hidden. Why, Eriol, why? She wanted to scream at him and shake him and make him react with something other than his usual calm.

Tomoyo was sick of it, but she valued her composure too much to indulge in theatrical dramatics. Her dignity was an intrinsic part of who she was.

And how she longed to throw it away right now, to be wild and wanton. With Eriol and that hidden part of his eyes.

No, she set her lips firmly, definitely not. It would be disrespectful of me to do that to him.

But that unexplored facet of Eriol's personality, those secrets he kept hidden behind his eyes—could he be wild somewhere deep inside him as well? The possibility teased and tantalized her, and sometimes she found herself wondering what Eriol would do if she just up and kissed him and tore his clothes off…No. He would probably be shocked, and too polite to show it. She was, after all, his perfect goddess—right?

Perfection—she flouted it in tiny ways. She'd become a curvy adult, in contrast to Sakura's willowy form; her bosom was large and bountiful, her hips rounded and sexy. She didn't have a conventional career, though she was still successful and financially independent from her mother. And her beautiful voice—she hadn't raised it in song in a long while, not because Touya had died but because her mother loved her voice.

In truth she loved her mother and knew that Sonomi loved her as well. But sometimes that love could suffocate. Though she knew Sonomi wanted her to be perfect, Tomoyo also understood that it was because her mother wished to resurrect Nadeshiko in her.

I just want to be me, a little voice in her whimpered until she became old enough to stifle it. It was, after all, a useless thought. Who, in this forbidding world, could possibly manage to be themselves? Only Sakura, who was blessed with such innocence that she didn't know how to be any other way. It was one of a few things that Tomoyo envied her for, one of the tiniest jealousies buried inside out of love for many.

What she did not realize was that the very love she cherished most in her heart, the love for Touya Kinomoto, had done its damage as well. Stolen kisses are never as sweet as those shared in open love, and when one is kept a secret for long—and has to keep that secret for long as well—the heart begins to wonder if winter will ever change for spring. Even the most steadfast of hearts can fail, and Tomoyo did not realize that the eternal winter had come to rest in hers.

The Beginning of Their Season

"Why did you advise Syaoran to marry Sakura?" Tomoyo asked curiously. They were having coffee and tea at her condominium after Sakura and Syaoran's wedding, and Tomoyo was still somewhat put out that Sakura had refused to let her bring a camera. Both of them knew that their coffee-and-tea would soon become a comforting ritual to both of them as they discussed their best friends' romantic fates.

"He was headed there anyway," Eriol smiled slyly at Tomoyo, "and you know that."

"I see somebody suspects something," Tomoyo grinned.

"Syaoran at the very least likes her very much. He's been in a funk since Loraina divorced him, and yet Sakura has pulled him out of that funk. He teases her, he plays with her, he smiles with her. In all the years I've known him, he's never been that way with anyone else."

"You think he loves her but doesn't realize it," Tomoyo said, not asking for confirmation, but stating a fact.

Eriol nodded. "That sudden reading of his father's will took him by surprise," he said. "I suspect his father found out about the first divorce, and knew Syaoran was keeping company with Sakura."

"Keeping tabs on him?" Tomoyo asked curiously. "But he's not the primary heir, is he?"

"He's still the only boy in a Chinese family," Eriol shrugged. "And I know his father. He seemed strict but Syaoran meant the world to him. To his mother as well. I think Kao Hsiu knew that Syaoran was keeping company with Sakura and decided to force things along."

"And you know this how?"

"Maybe we had a little talk before he died," Eriol shrugged, and Tomoyo knew he wasn't lying.

"You never told Syaoran, though."

"You know his temper as well as I do," Eriol smiled.

"How would Syaoran's father have known?"

"The same way I did. Syaoran only hangs around people he respects, and for him to be constantly in Sakura's company—well," Eriol paused to sip his coffee, made pale with lots of cream and sweetened with honey. "I think he put that clause in his will to force Syaoran into marrying her because he must have seen something there. He came here for treatment before he died, and I accompanied him as he watched Sakura and Syaoran out at that favorite café of theirs. I haven't seen Uncle smile that way for a long time."

"He came to Tokyo alone?" Tomoyo was coming to a certain suspicion.

"Yes."

"The Syaoran's father didn't tell his mother." What Tomoyo said was a statement, not a question.

Eriol sipped again, then, "No. Aunt Yelan can be pigheaded when it comes to Syaoran.

"Oh no," was all Tomoyo said as she sipped her tea.

"Well said," Eriol nodded, "But then we can't interfere there." They both looked out at the summery Tokyo night, quietly enjoying each other's company.

And so, it was with annoyance that Eriol and Tomoyo watched Sakura and Syaoran dance around each other, shy with their feelings, slowly falling deeper in love.

"They've been married eight months!" Tomoyo whimpered as she rested her head against a wall in Eriol's studio. "What the devil...this shit can't go on any longer, someone has to give!"

"Language, Tomoyo-san," Eriol teased. And was surprised when her lips compressed into a tight line.

"It's just Tomoyo, you know," she said in a brittle voice.

Eriol raised a brow. "Have I offended you?"

Tomoyo covered her eyes with an arm. "No. Forgive me. I am just being—irrational."

She's never irrational, Eriol thought, and remained silent; if she wanted to say something, she would.

Why are you like this? Tomoyo thought. Always reserved, calm, polite, and so—bleedinggentle.

She knew Eriol cared for her; she would have to be blind to miss it. But she felt he did not see her the way she wanted him to see her: as a woman. Not a saint, not a tragic heroine—just...a woman. She was disappointed that he'd never made a move, that he made her his Muse, that he always treated her like a china doll. Sure, he respected her mind, and they connected intellectually. But...

Touya saw me as a woman, she thought. And that, she felt, was where the problem lay. Eriol saw her as someone exalted, someone else.

Yet Eriol was the one she could talk to. And if she were honest about it, yes, she did find him attractive. His heavy-lidded eyes, his high cheekbones, his deep voice: he was quite unlike Touya in many ways. His mind seduced her; he could sometimes read her like a book and yet he never judged her. Does that mean he sees me for who I really am? she wondered.

Had Eriol been more aggressive, had he tried to take her away from Touya...Tomoyo smiled bitterly. Eriol would have been all hers. No sharing with another person. No hiding and sneaking around, no feeling guilty. But the time for that had passed, Tomoyo reflected. Now they had settled into a comfortable routine, and they would probably stay that way. And Tomoyo knew better than to encourage false hope in herself; if Eriol hadn't made a move on her in nearly four years, then he probably would never do so. She turned to Eriol and forced a smile on, knowing he would know it was false, but not caring.

"I should go," she said. "Shall I see you tomorrow then?"

Eriol knew there was something else entirely in her false smile, but he nodded and said, "Take care going home then." He did not offer to drive her home this time, sensing she needed to be alone.

Paradoxically, that he understood her that well made Tomoyo resent Eriol even more.

What is it you want from him? Her mind scolded.

Passion, another voice whispered. Anger, jealousy, possessiveness, lust…and passion, it whispered until she could force it away by thinking instead of how to get Sakura and Syaoran together.

The Last Snows of Winter

The last thing Eriol expected, on a quiet early winter morning such as this one, was a call from his dearest friend's mother - Daidouji Sonomi herself - informing him that he had an appointment with the woman that afternoon, and if he did not come his fate would be less than pleasant.

Interesting turn of events, he thought, as he searched for something to wear. Two discussions in one day.

When Syaoran had left earlier, there had been much to think about, of course. He had admitted to his love for Sakura, indirectly at the least, after several months of marriage. That was a surprise that wasn't a surprise; Eriol and Tomoyo both knew it was inevitable. But for Syaoran to admit it quicker than they predicted…Eriol had been about to call Tomoyo to meet with her when he'd gotten the call from Sonomi.

The news of this appointment was far more pressing, in Eriol's mind. What on earth could she want that would be so important that Sonomi would use a threat? He somehow doubted she wanted a business deal of any sort using him as a promotion for her toys, given that kind of threat. The only other possibility was that this was about Tomoyo. That could not be good. Sonomi understood him, and liked him. It was something he was most grateful for. Incurring her wrath was the last thing on his mind, and so he hoped desperately he had done nothing to provoke her. He didn't think there was something, but that didn't stop a cold fear from seeping into his mind.

The sound of the bell chiming three made him jump. How had an entire hour gone by so quickly? There were only thirty minutes left before he needed to meet with Sonomi. It took him all of ten minutes, luckily, to quickly neaten up. In another seventeen minutes, he was in Ginza. Parking though took him five minutes to find, this being the ritziest part of Tokyo, and he was panting slightly as he sprinted around the hallway corner to find Sonomi's secretary waiting for him. He was, god forbid, two minutes late.

"Tell Daidouji-san that Eriol is here to see her," he breathed. Meekly the woman nodded. She pressed a small button and said clearly, "Eriol-san is here."

"Bring him in." Luckily, she didn't sound enraged, but Eriol didn't count his chickens just yet. She was, after all, a businesswoman, whose mood could change with a tap of her finger.

Taking one moment to readjust his shirt and run a hand through his hair to put it in order, Eriol prepared himself for the worst. Without a word he walked into the room and bowed to Sonomi.

"Good afternoon, Hiiragizawa." Eriol winced. Her voice was dreadfully calm as she called him by his last name. She was furious.

"Good afternoon, Sonomi-san," he said, rising. There would be no use in trying to charm his way out of this, whatever 'this' was. "There was something you wished to discuss?"

Watching him coldly, Sonomi drummed her fingers against the wood of her desk. "Yes," she said finally. "I wanted to ask you about how you failed to inform me about a number of... A number of things regarding my daughter."

"What sort of things?" Eriol asked.

"Well, for one, you failed to let me know that her lover had passed away."

Eriol fought to stay calm. This was getting worse by the second. "As I have said before - it was for Tomoyo to tell you. But seeing that you are aware of it now... I won't deny it. Yes, he died, some months ago."

"At least you've more sense than to lie to me about that. I do wish you had told me, though. It might have made watching my daughter fall apart every now and then before my very eyes a little easier, knowing what she was going through. It is... difficult. To have the one you love leave…"

"I know." Eriol forced himself to stay calm; Sonomi did not know about Kaho Mizuki; only Syaoran ever would.

"You would, considering she seems to trust you even more than her own mother with her secrets."

"I'm... Sorry?"

"Don't bother. I'm not mad about that. I'm not even mad about you not telling me he died - at least, not so much as I am about his identity."

He began to sweat. "His identity."

"How long, Eriol-kun," she asked bitingly, "did you think you could hide from me the fact that my daughter was having an affair with the late," and she paused before spitting the last words out, "Kinomoto Touya?"

On one hand, she had called him 'Eriol-kun' and that was a good sign. But then there was little he could say in reply to that - it was almost a slap in the face to hear the sheer hatred in her voice. "A while?" he responded in all honesty.

Sonomi did not hear him. She was in an absolute rage now, standing up to her full height. "I trusted you! How long did it last?"

"Five years."

"Since she was twenty? Two years longer than even you have known her! And you still never thought that I might want to know that she was dating a Kinomoto?"

Well, he couldn't get into any worse position by asking... "Why is it so bad that it was Kinomoto-san?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, they're second cousins! Did that ever occur to you? And more than that... He's a Kinomoto. My cousin, Nadeshiko, was so dear to me - and Touya-kun's mother. Fujitaka was her teacher, and they still married. Can you imagine? Having your best friend and cousin married at sixteen to some - some dirtbag of a teacher who was clearly outstepping his boundaries? The shame of it! And to find his son stealing away my daughter - I would have stopped it. And I trusted you to let me know when you learned that it was - scum like him who broke my daughter's heart!"

Eriol's mind whirled, bewildered. On one hand, he could understand Sonomi's anger, and maybe even heartbreak. But it was silly, wasn't it? Sonomi adored Sakura, but had never liked Touya. He looked too much like his father, maybe? There was no way to tell. Still, hearing this story, much clicked into place about Sonomi's ways—and why Tomoyo was the way she was.

He gulped. "I am sorry, then. I was never aware that Kinomoto Fujitaka-san did such a thing. But I can't help but say that Kinomoto-san must have really loved her, and Nadeshiko-san him."

"Get to the point."

"And... I don't think you should blame Touya-san for the faults of his father. I... I don't like Touya-san. I never really knew him, because I wanted to hate him for taking Tomoyo-san away from me before I had even met her." It cost him a lot to make that admission but then Sonomi knew, had always known that he was in love with her daughter. "But I still don't think he was ever that bad."

"He broke Tomoyo's heart, had an affair with her even when he was still with that other man! And even, I suspect, impregnated her - I always did wonder why the hospital bill for a certain 'accident' of hers was so much. An abortion, maybe? I don't care. He was that bad. I am very disappointed. You should have told her. You should have protected her, should have told that scum to leave her alone! Why didn't you? No way could such a cold person possibly be any good for her, but you let her date him anyway! And I thought you cared for Tomoyo enough to guide her. Was I wrong? You should have protected her from idiots like him, and not trusted her judgment! Why did you dare to let Tomoyo get her heart broken by being stupidly involved with that boy?" She was screaming now, and while Eriol understood why she was angry, that was absolutely, certainly it. Eriol had tried to be patient, but he had his limits. He stared at her in anger. He knew how angry he could look. His eyes were very expressive, one of the many things that made him popular as a star. He could be kind, loving, sad, sympathetic, whatever the situation called for, with those eyes. Being angry, they would express pure, cold hatred towards anybody. He saw the effect even worked on Sonomi as the strong woman trembled slightly under his gaze. She still held firm - she was a businesswoman - but she had weakened.

"Enough. Stop this now. I didn't interfere with her relationship. Why? Sonomi-san, I need you to understand, she was happy with him. I don't care what you say about Touya-san. I told you, I tried to hate him. But you know what? I couldn't. He was a genuinely kind person. He loved Tomoyo. Tomoyo loved him. There was nothing else to it. He made her happy. How could I possibly want to change something that made her happy? That is how much I care for her - that to this day, I will defend Touya-san's character, because I know he was a good person, for her sake. You have no idea how much I would love to run his name through the mud, but for her, I will not. You should trust your own daughter's judgment more, instead of allowing your silly prejudices with the family get in the way. I have never met his parents, but I have heard only good of them. Maybe your story is true - but see it from their perspective, instead of yours, and maybe you can try to understand. Think of whoever Tomoyo-san's father was, if that helps. But I can't allow even you to criticize Tomoyo's decision. Her heart is broken, but she is dealing with it, and I will be there to help her. Do not try to stop me. I will do whatever is best for her. Always. Good afternoon, Sonomi-san."

About to leave, Eriol turned, but Sonomi-san said, "Wait," and so he turned back, curious.

Sonomi didn't seem willing to budge, but he could tell that his words had shaken her. "Just so you know - I was headed to surprise Tomoyo when I saw her climbing into your car, and I followed you two to the graveyard. I saw you. I saw my daughter crying. I made the connection when I saw where her tears had dropped in the snow. That's how."

Eriol nodded. "Thank you," he said. This time, with a proper bow of thanks, he left, confident that Sonomi-san would come around.

He would be right.

Next chapter: Loraina comes to overnight at Tomoyo's home, with unexpected results, and Eriol and Tomoyo prepare to head off for Hong Kong.

Notes: The setting for this chapter is still during winter (2008 for convenience); as of Ch 12, Slowly Sweetly is already in April (2009 for convenience).

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Sorry for the delay in updating but I did warn you it would be slow. It will probably be some time before this is updated, gomen ne, so keep it on alert if you're interested? Thanks!