Title: The Dressmaker's Bride (part 1)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Tomoyo/Sakura

Spoilers: AU. SURPRISE! It's actually a CCS-verse fic, not TRC at all. :P

Summary: Sakura investigates an old, run-down mansion in her neighborhood and surprised to find that a new girl has moved in. Tomoyo Daidouji is a girl who has it all; wealth, beauty, taste. What could she possibly see in a poor little tomboy like Sakura?

Author's Note: Written for Cloverfield for the Secret Santa challenge.

Sakura climbed carefully through the thornbrake, making sure to press the thorny whips of raspberry canes flat with her sneakers before she pushed forward. The little scrapes and scratches didn't bother her overmuch - she led an enthusiastic outdoor lifestyle that often gifted her with scrapes, bruises, and sunburns of all description - but she wanted to be sure to save her jeans and t-shirt. She'd finally stopped growing this year - finally, at age 14 she'd had enough! - and she wouldn't be getting any more new clothes if she wore these out.

She made it to the other side of the thicket and balanced precipitously on the edge of a sharp incline; at the bottom of the ditch ran a square concrete gutter, water trickling through it despite the heavy heat of high summer overhead. It was August and summer vacation had just begun, four long weeks off from school and with nothing else to fill them. All of Sakura's friends from school had their own plans for the holiday, attending lessons or practices or going with their families on vacations, but for Sakura the weeks ahead promised to be long, empty, and dull.

Sakura hopped easily across the ditch and scrambled up the opposite side, reaching up to grasp the branches of the young trees growing on the bank to pull herself up. Once she reached the top of the rise the ground leveled out, and the scrub and nettles gave way to a long, smooth slope of lawn. At the top of the rise again she caught a glimpse of stern, peaked tile roofs; below them were smooth brick walls set with dozens of glittering windows, and then the ground floor was masked by dozens of neatly trimmed flowering bushes and trees.

The old Fujitaka estate; Sakura had been here a few times before, when she was much younger, but it had looked quite different then. The estate had been abandoned for years before Sakura was even born, the house decrepit and crumbling and the grounds choked with weeds. Old gossip said that the Fujitaka clan had moved abruptly away when the family fell on some hardship; while not exactly haunted, enough of an aura of unpleasantness and disgrace had hovered around the grounds that no one had wanted to buy them.

But apparently, someone had. It was hearing that rumor that had driven Sakura out here today, that and the boredom of the weeks she faced ahead. The landscape had changed a bit since she'd last been out here, and she'd had to scramble over a few fences and under a ditch or two to sneak unseen onto the mansion grounds. Now that she was here she felt suddenly guilty and obvious, and horribly out of place in her grubby jeans and sneakers.

Curiosity drew her on despite the guilt, at least for now; the plush green lawn squished under her feet as she wandered around the lawns looking up at the back and sides of the grand house. All the former traces of decay were gone, with all-new siding installed and the windows washed crystal clear. As she approached the house she realized that the ground floor had even more windows than the top floors did, huge glass panels that let the light of the sun and the full panorama of the gardens outside into whoever might be looking out.

A flash of light off a smooth-moving car caught Sakura's gaze, drawing her attention to the long paved driveway winding away towards the main road. She hurried around the corner of the house the other way, not wanting to be seen. The back of the house was well shaded and cool from the abundance of trees, and a riot of color bloomed from a row along one wall.

Fascinated Sakura walked towards it, and the profusion of colors resolved itself into a rose garden. Sakura knew what roses looked like, of course, but she'd never seen an actual living rosebush before. She'd never imagined so many different shapes and shades of green, from a dark forest green with silver-gilt edges to a bright verdant color that showed up like jewels against the dark thorny stems. Nor had she imagined that roses could possibly come in so many colors; not just red and pink but white and yellow, orange and peach with deeper red cores and faint dark stains along the very edges of the petals.

The scent of the roses was heady and overpowering, sharp in the damp hot air of the garden. Drawn to the brilliant colors Sakura drew closer, reaching up to pull one bobbing heady rose-stem towards her to study the flower in more detail.

"Oh, hello!" a voice called out from nearby. Sakura gasped and snatched her hand back, flinching as the rose's thorns caught and dragged up her thumb. She closed her hand in a tight fist and his her hands behind her back, like a guilty child, as she looked around wildly for the source of the voice.

A large, tiled area was recessed into the side of the house, with two wings of the mansion flanking it in a horseshoe shape. In the middle was something like an indoor garden, or perhaps a gazebo with a roof shading it overhead and screen panels closing it off from the main garden. The screen doors were wide open now, though, and in the shadow of the pavilion Sakura could make out the glowing pale figure of someone seated at a table there.

It was a girl, slender and delicate, pale-skinned and dark-haired. She appeared to be not much older than Sakura herself, although unlike the ratty street clothes Sakura was wearing - or even the colorful, haphazard clothes that Sakura's school friends wore on the rare occasion they escaped the school uniform - she was wearing a long elegant dress that swirled all the way down to the floor.

"I - I'm sorry!" Sakura stammered, squeezing her fist closed as her thumb throbbed. "I wasn't going to pick anything, I promise! They were just so beautiful, I wanted to get a closer look…"

The girl laughed, a silvery tinkling sound. "It's all right. I don't mind at all. I just wasn't expecting to see such a cute girl wandering through my garden, that's all."

"Cute?" Sakura blushed a little in spite of herself.

"Of course you're cute," the stranger asserted firmly. "Please come and join me. I was just sitting down to tea. I'd love to have some company, I've been ever so lonely."

"Well… are you sure?" Sakura's panic was beginning to fade, although her guilt throbbed harder than ever. "I mean, I know I wasn't invited…"

"Quite sure," the girl replied. "All the best things in our lives come to us uninvited. I'm Tomoyo. What's your name?"

"Sakura," she replied, coming forward cautiously and stepping off the thick grass into the cool hollowed tiles of the pavilion.

Up close, Tomoyo's dress was even more breathtaking than she had thought. It was no mere summer sundress but a full-length gown, layers of white lace and shimmering blue fabric interspersing themselves in a complex pattern. White petticoats peeked out from the bottom of the skirt, atop blue satin slippers of a surprisingly small and dainty size. The white lace had a subtle floral pattern to its stitching, and as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light she saw the buttons of the cuffs and front were dark blue roses. Shining ribbons crisscrossed the front of the vest, snug and mostly flat across her small-boned frame, dancing upwards in an intricate pattern to a high collar that closed nearly at her chin.

She wore gloves, too, white satin gloves that hugged her hands and arms as though they'd been painted on, running up her wrists and arms to disappear into the full, ruffled cuffs of her sleeves. Completing the picture was a wide-brimmed hat with white and blue flowers adorning the crown. Under the brim of the hat, shining black hair poured in waves over her shoulders. Tomoyo's features were astonishingly pretty and delicate; she had a small nose and delicate lips now stretched in a beaming smile. But the smile was almost drowned out by her enormous eyes, not brown or black like most people Sakura knew but an incredible deep, vivid violet.

"Does it hurt very badly?" Tomoyo said.

"Huh?" Sakura paused in the process of lowering herself into the delicate chair opposite Tomoyo's.

"Your hand." Tomoyo nodded at Sakura's left hand, and Sakura reluctantly brought it up and opened her fist. She'd been hoping Tomoyo hadn't seen her reaching for that rose. The thorn had torn a shallow, but long gash along the ball of her thumb, and it had bled enough to stain the rest of her fingers when she had closed her hand into a fist.

"Oh, dear." Tomoyo tsked. "I can have the maids bring a first-aid kit…"

"No, really, it's not that bad," Sakura said, embarrassed at the thought of having to explain how she'd come by the wound to anyone else - or even explain how she had come to be here in the first place. "It doesn't hurt at all any more, thanks."

"Still, you can't just leave it like this, who knows what kind of dirt and germs it could pick up?" Tomoyo leaned across the table, her eyes strangely intent. She dipped the corner of a white, lacy handkerchief into a cup of water, then reached out to take Sakura's hand in both of hers. In neat, gentle motions she dabbed at the blood drying on Sakura's hand to wash it clean without getting a single drop of blood on her white gloves. The bloodstained handkerchief disappeared somewhere, and Tomoyo produced a second one to tie neatly around the cut. "There we go."

"Thanks," Sakura said, closing her fingers around the smooth, silky fabric of the handkerchief. Tomoyo was smiling at her, and somehow that smile made her feel restless and prickly, and so she blurted out - "Your clothes are really nice! Where did you buy them?"

"I made them." Tomoyo's smile widened, obviously pleased at the compliment.

"Really? All by yourself?" Sakura was flabbergasted. "But, they're so beautiful! When me and my friends go downtown we see some of the college girls wearing clothes like that to go shopping. There are some stores down there that sell all sorts of really fancy Lolita clothing and it's worth a fortune!"

"It's something of a hobby of mine. I quite enjoy sewing," Tomoyo said calmly. "The fashions have changed from the ones I really prefer, but I do like some of the clothing that the Angelic Pretty and Princess Princess brands put out. Still, overall I prefer to make my own dresses, so that I can implement my own styles."

"They really suit you," Sakura said with feeling, and she meant it. The Lolita girls that she had usually seen tended to wear dresses with short, fluffy skirts that emphasized how young and cute they were supposed to look; and instead of hats they usually wore either wide lace headbands or tiny, gaudy hats fastened to the side of the head like an oversized barrette. By contrast, Tomoyo's long, sweeping skirts and wide-brimmed hats made her look not like a little girl but like a lady; not kitschy but mature and elegant. "I bet you could make a lot of money selling dresses like yours!"

Tomoyo laughed, a tinkling musical sound, and Sakura flushed. Too late she realized how that made her sound, as though money were the only thing she ever thought about. "I mean, I didn't mean…" she mumbled. "I guess you don't really need any more money…"

"Even if I could, what would I do with it?" Tomoyo asked. "But it's really just a hobby, I'm afraid. I much prefer to sew for my own pleasure, instead of working to satisfy some fashion designer's idea of what the newest hot trend will be. I would love to make some clothes for you some time, though," she added earnestly.

"Me?" Sakura stared at Tomoyo in astonishment. "Me? But why?"

"Because you would make such a lovely model, of course!" Tomoyo exclaimed with enthusiasm. "You are so lovely, and so vivacious. You would be even more beautiful in clothes that I could design for you."

Sakura blushed hotly then, feeling more grubby than ever in her dirty jeans and tattered jacket. The past few years of growth had left her gawky and oddly shaped in some parts, alternately lumpy and bony while she impatiently waited for the rest of adulthood to fill her in. She simply couldn't imagine herself in a beautiful, elegant dress like the one Tomoyo wore so effortlessly. "I couldn't," she mumbled. "I mean, it's nice of you to say, but…"

"I would love to," Tomoyo said firmly. "You must come by again, and come to my studio where I can take measurements and create a few sketches for you. I would take you there right now, but I'm afraid I wasn't expecting company this afternoon - the place is not fit for visitors…" Tomoyo trailed off, and her eyes widened as her gloved hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh, my goodness!" she exclaimed. "What a terrible host I've been! Here I've been talking your ear off about dresses and designs that don't interest you at all, and I haven't offered you anything to eat or drink! Please, do forgive me…" Before Sakura could stop her, Tomoyo raised a hand; at some subtle signal, a tall woman in a black-and-white maid's outfit appeared from the glass doors and hurried to their table.

"We shall have tea," Tomoyo announced, sounding like a royal pronouncement. She glanced over at her guest. "What would you like to eat, Sakura?"

Sakura blinked. "Um - whatever you have, I guess," she said nervously. She was the guest - of course she would eat whatever was put in front of her. "I don't mind…"

"I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific than that," Tomoyo laughed. "I'm afraid I'm not up-to-date on what teenagers like to eat nowadays. Do you like tea? Japanese or Western style? What flavor?"

"Uh… I like raspberry tea," Sakura stuttered. "And - um - mochi, if you have some."

"Of course." The maid disappeared again, and Tomoyo's luminous violet eyes turned back on Sakura. "Now then, Sakura, tell me about yourself."

And Sakura did. For an long, uncounted magical time in that beautiful garden she forgot her shyness and embarrassment, and chattered on to Tomoyo like they had been friends for years. She rattled on happily about her school and her friends, about her hobbies and baton club and her brother and his friends. Tomoyo had a way of putting her at ease, an aura of profound calm that made it easy to talk to her and tell her everything.

The maid reappeared quickly and discreetly with a tray of snacks - Tomoyo drank tea, but did not eat, and Sakura wondered if she was on a diet like so many of her school friends nowadays. It made her feel uncomfortable to eat when Tomoyo wasn't, but the her friend simply assured her that she would eat later, after Sakura had gone.

"Oh - it's getting late!" Sakura exclaimed, glancing quickly at the pink plastic watch on her wrist. The golden afternoons were deceptively long, but she'd been her for hours chatting with a girl she'd never met before today. Sakura took a final gulp of her tea and jumped up, brushing crumbs off her hands and lap. "I really have to go…"

"Of course, I understand," Tomoyo said, although she sounded a little sad and disappointed. Sakura felt sorry for her; if she was the only girl their age in this huge house, no wonder she felt a little lonely sometimes. "Perhaps you'd like to come back another time, though. I'd love to have you."

"If you don't mind…" Sakura said shyly. She hesitated, not yet ready to ask what was on her mind, but if Tomoyo was inviting her… "I have baton club practice all afternoon tomorrow, but maybe later…"

"Ah, dear Sakura, you are so diligent," Tomoyo said smiling. "Practicing even when school isn't in session. I am sure that if you apply so much dedication when you are at club, you must be the star of your group!"

Sakura blushed again; Tomoyo seemed to do that to her a lot. "No, I'm not very good, really," she said sincerely. "I always drop the baton on my head! I need to practice a lot more before I get good… so although I don't want to, I really should go home now so I'm not late tomorrow!"

"Would you like a ride?" Tomoyo offered. "I can call a car and driver…"

"No, that's okay," Sakura said, already hopping down off the tiled porch to the lawn with more than a little regret. "The roads are kind of complicated, but it's much more direct just to go through the woods. I should go before it gets too dark, though!"

"Be careful," Tomoyo called to her, but she didn't leave the shade of the pavilion. Sakura tramped off across the lawn and through the brush at the edge of the woods, the warmth of Tomoyo's gaze still warming her cheeks.

"I'm home," Sakura called out of habit, even though the apartment was empty except for her. The first thing she did was punch the aging aircon unit into life, and breathed a sigh of relief as she stood in the blast of cooler air until the worst of her overheating had passed off. She thought wistfully of the cool shade of Tomoyo's pavilion, of the wonderful fresh coldness inside her house, before she regretfully made herself move out of the stream of cold air into the stifling hot humidity of the rest of the apartment.

She shed her sneakers in the genkan, and as an afterthought stripped off her damp socks and grubby jacket and carried them over to the washing unit. Bundled together with some dirty dishtowels and some of Touya's jeans, they just about made a load. Sakura set the washer running, pulled on a fresh pair of socks and a new sweater, and took the broom leaning by the front door to sweep across the tiles.

Chores done, she wandered over to the kitchenette and opened the cabinets, frowning at the contents. They still had some rice, and bacon, and pickles in a dusty jar. She supposed she could do something with that; she wasn't an expert cook by any means, but she could work the rice cooker and fry bacon and assemble some kind of dinner for Touya when he got home. Touya would get paid tomorrow, so Sakura could go do some shopping while he was at work on Saturday.

Sakura closed the refrigerator door and stared at its grubby, magnet-strewn surface unseeing. It ought to have been more romantic, being an orphan. More exciting. It wasn't like there was any mystery about who her parents had been, and what she'd been born to be. Her mother had died when Sakura was too young to remember much more than a cloud of frizzy hair and a pair of softly perfumed arms. She'd been a magazine model, and framed pictures of her still shots had decorated every wall of the house while their father had been alive.

But her dad had died in a dig accident just five years ago, when Sakura was still in elementary school, and she remembered him vividly - it hurt to think too much about him, so she tried not to most of the time. Her older brother Touya had taken custody of her then, just barely eighteen himself; he'd dropped out of the rest of senior year of high school to care for her, passing on the chance of college to work to support them both. He always worked so hard - one job in the mornings and another in the evenings, and a few hours moonlighting the weekend rush in Three Bells down the street.

By the time he got home he was usually too tired to do very much, and the least Sakura could do was to keep the place clean and have dinner ready for him when he got home. He was a good big brother, and sometimes - a lot of the time - Sakura felt guilty for making him work so hard. Between his three jobs they had enough to scrape by - they never went hungry and the rent and bills got paid - but there was never much left over.

Sakura's clothes, now that she had finally stopped outgrowing them, were the same faded and worn set of jeans and jackets that she'd had last year. All of her clothes were like that, even her school uniform; even when clean they were worn ragged from use, but there was just no money to spare to replace them as long as they weren't falling off her. Sometimes when she was out with her friends Sakura would gaze wistfully past shelves of sparkly hair ribbons, cell phone charms and frilly bows, but there simply wasn't enough margin in their life to waste on such useless things.

There would certainly never be enough for beautiful dresses like Tomoyo's.

Abruptly Sakura abandoned the kitchen, leaving the rice cooker to bubble quietly to itself, and went into the living room to dig through the drawers behind the sofa. Under piles of old, too-small clothes and spare electrical cables and ancient, out-of-date phone books she found what she was looking for: a large leather wallet sealed with a clasp shaped like a pair of angel wings.

Sakura stroked the leathery suede gently, then wriggled the clasp open and opened the book.

It was a scrapbook of Nadeshiko's magazine shoots, the year before she'd gotten so sick. Sakura's father had persuaded the magazine's photo department to give him copies of the raw glossy images, free of obscuring text, and Sakura's restless fidgets quieted as she lost herself in the beautiful pictures.

She could hardly associate the pretty, smiling young face of Nadesiko with her dimly-remembered mother, but that didn't matter. The photos were so beautiful. Nadesiko posed delicately against vibrant, beautiful backgrounds of green grass and bright flowers, or subtle shade, or in front of bright brick buildings, or once on the top of a bridge with the sea and sky and one lone seagull hanging in the air above her shoulder. In every photo Nadesiko was wearing an elegant, beautiful dress or outfit; sometimes she had a hat or a purse or a clutch in her hands, sometimes nothing at all. There were all different styles, from a modern stylishly cut business suit to a pretty light green sundress, but in some of them she was wearing complex, fancy long dresses that looked like what Tomoyo had worn.

Sakura lost track of time, sitting there on the floor with her legs folded under her as she leafed through the wonderful pictures. She knew, intellectually, that these were all posed - that the clothes and accessories were provided by the advertisers, that every detail and angle was painstakingly set up by the photographer, that some of these locations weren't even real. But it felt like a window into another world, a world where beautiful women in fancy dresses could glide elegantly through perfectly sculptured landscapes. The world where Tomoyo lived.

The thump and rattle of the door opening startled her out of her daze, and she blinked up as Touya pushed his way into the apartment. "I'm back," he called out in a flat voice, weary by the long double-shift he'd put in. Fortunately the rice cooker had automatically gone to "hold-warm" while Sakura was distracted; Touya wandered into the kitchen sniffing at the enticing smells of the bacon set out to drain on the grill. "Did you have dinner, squirt?"

"No, I'll get some after you do," Sakura said. She closed the book, but not before Touya had caught sight of it. Hurriedly Sakura shoved some of the mess back towards the drawer with one foot. "I'll clean up here first."

"No need," Touya said, leaning tiredly against the kitchen counter and shoveling rice and pickles directly from the cooking pot into his mouth with a pair of chopsticks. "I hope you haven't been sitting here with your nose stuck in that book all day, or else you'll freeze that way. You could be a gargoyle, all twisted up like that."

Sakura bristled a bit at the familiar dry teasing, but she was too old by now to rise to such obvious bait. "I went out earlier!" she said indignantly.

"Where'd you go?" Touya dove headfirst into the refrigerator, the clinking of glass bottles a counterpart to his muffled words. "Anywhere good?"

"I went down to the old Fujitaka estate," Sakura said. "It's the Daidouji estate now, by the way. I met a girl there, Tomoyo."

"Daidouji?" Touya's head popped back over the counter, a bottle of lemonade in his hand. He took a swallow of the cold drink, then pulled a face. "I've heard of them. They're a big name, not someone you want to mess with. I hope you weren't being a pest to them like usual."

"No, Tomoyo said I could come back any time I wanted." Sakura opened the leather book again and laid it flat on her lap, stroking her fingers over the glossy photo paper. In this picture, Nadesiko stood half-turned towards the camera with one hand clutching a hat to her head, laughing as though the wind had been foiled in its prank of stealing her hat away. She was wearing a long, elegant dress of peach and pale pink, with an ivory vest and overskirt falling in a satiny sheen along the flanks. Peach-colored posies marched up the scalloped lace edges of the surcoat, with matching ribbons crossing the chest and trailing in neat bows from the shoulders. "I will, too. I think I'd like to be friends with her."

Touya made a disagreeing noise, and Sakura looked up at him in surprise. "Why not? She's really nice."

"I suppose she could be," Touya said, misgivings evident in his tone. "Just be careful, all right? A teenage girl in a huge wealthy, powerful family like that, the chances are good she's a spoiled brat used to getting everything she wants."

"She's not!" Sakura said indignantly. "You haven't even met her! Don't say things like that about her!"

"All right, all right," Touya shrugged away his criticism. "If you want to visit I can't stop you. Just don't make a pest of yourself. You know they say guests are like fish, they start to stink after a few days." He paused and waved a hand dramatically under his nose. "In fact I think it might already be too late for that. Whew! What'd you do, roll in a ditch on the way home?"

"I did not!" Infuriated, Sakura snapped the book shut and marched over to the kitchenette; Touya gave way before her, grinning widely.

"Make sure to eat something," he said, easily fending off her half-hearted punches. "I'm going to my room to study for a few hours. There was a new workbook in the mail today." He waved a thick manila envelope that Sakura recognized; it was part of the correspondence courses Touya was taking with a nearby part-time high school. It wasn't as prestigious as Tomoeda, of course, but it would at least qualify him to apply for some nearby university… except, of course, they couldn't afford for him to go to university. Not while he still had to work to support Sakura.

"Okay," Sakura said quietly, and Touya ruffled her hair affectionately as he squeezed past her out of the kitchen. The door to Touya's room closed quietly, leaving Sakura in the untidy apartment.

She knew Touya was just looking out for her, wary of new people in their lives. Apart from Sakura's school friends they didn't really have many other people; their mother's family had been estranged ever since she had married their dad, and their dad's family didn't even live in this part of Japan. Touya's friends from high school had all graduated and moved on, including Sakura's old girlhood crush Yukito; he still kept faithfully in touch, sending letters and e-mails from university, but they hardly ever got the chance to see him any more except when he came home for the holidays.

With a sigh, Sakura went about dishing up a portion of the rice and bacon for herself, sealing the rest of it away in plastic Tupperware. It was hard to imagine anything more different from Tomoyo's fairy garden that afternoon, a time spent in an enchanted castle. But this was the real world, no doubt about it. Stomach rumbling with guilt pangs more than hunger, Sakura went to have her dinner.

She wondered if Cinderella's sisters had ever felt as glum as she did.

"Sakura-chan!" The familiar voice hailed her as she finished the last set of drills, and Sakura cranked her head to the side mid-lunge to see her friends Naoko, Chiharu and Rika standing by the sidelines. Chiharu was waving cheerfully, and Sakura waved briefly and frantically back; but she had to wait until the coach tweeted her whistle to signal the end of the exercise before she could run over to greet them.

During normal gymnastics practice, that never would have been permitted - but this was summer vacation. Most of the clubs kept up some sort of regular practice schedule, partly so that their members didn't fall out of practice and partly to give students something to do during the long empty weeks. But in the lazy, sticky heat of Tomoeda's summer, the frenetic pace of most of the activities relaxed somewhat; most coaches allowed their students to break ranks and chatter with their friends in the shade under their benevolent eye.

Sakura dove for her towel and water bottle sitting in the shade of a rough and knotted plum tree by the edge of the field. Naoko shook her head in amazement. "Sakura-chan, I don't understand how you can stand it," she exclaimed. "How can you work so hard in this heat? I think I'd faint!"

"Sometimes I wish I'd chosen a nice indoors club like you guys," Sakura said ruefully. Rika was part of the student council, Naoko a member of the tiny Poetry and Drama club just started last year; Chiharu's debate team didn't meet during summer break at all, but she came to school anyway to keep her friends company.

"Sakura-chan is very exuberant and full of energy," Rika said, smiling her usual gentle smile. "I think you'd get restless staying indoors for too long!"

Sakura laughed, not entirely at ease with the praise. Naoko and Chiharu had once been on the baton team with her, but as they'd entered middle school they'd drifted towards less energetic activities. Only Sakura had gone on from baton to gymnastics and track. It was true that she was the best female athlete in her grade, one of the best even among the boys; but she always felt uncomfortable when people pointed that out. It wasn't that she was so much stronger than the other girls as that none of them wanted to try. There was an unspoken code of girliness that made it uncool to sweat too hard, and Sakura always wondered where that left her.

"You sound like Tomoyo-chan," she said, changing the topic. "Going on about how energetic I am all the time."

"Who?" several of her friends wanted to know, and Sakura grinned - for real, this time. It was rare that she had a gossip story this interesting to share.

"Tomoyo-chan!" she said happily. "You guys, you guys, I just met her the other day. Remember the old Fujitaka estate? Well, a new family has moved in their after all, and they have a girl just our age!"

"No way!" Chiharu exclaimed, and Rika wanted to know, "Will she be coming to this school?"

"I don't think so," Sakura said, her smile fading into a slight frown. "She didn't recognize the name of this school, and she ought to have if she was starting in September."

"Well, if her family moved into the Fujitaka estate, they must be super rich," Chiharu pointed out. "She probably goes to some fancy private school or has her own home tutors or something."

"You're probably right," Sakura said unhappily. "I didn't think to ask."

"Was she nice?" Rika wanted to know, and Sakura's enthusiasm fired back up.

"Yes, she's so nice!" Sakura exclaimed. "Guys, guys, you really have to meet her. She's so pretty and elegant - you should see the clothes she wears! It's like - it's like those Lolita fashions, but -"

"Ooh," Naoko said, enraptured. "A goth-loli? In the same grade as us? How daring of her! Does she wear the silver jewelry with the skulls and the black lace with spiderwebs and everything?"

"No, not like that," Sakura said. "I mean, lots of lace, yes, but it's white, not black, and -"

"Does she bleach her hair?" Rika wanted to know. "She can't do that if she's coming to a high school like ours, it's against the rules."

"No, her hair is really black and shiny," Sakura said. "And long. I really wish I knew what shampoo she uses to make it so glossy."

"Maybe she's a vampire," Naoko interrupted, her face taking on its familiar dreamy look as she began manufacturing fantasies again. "Maybe she came to Tomoeda because she's on the run from some vampire hunters and she only comes out on the full moon and -"

"Honestly, Naoko, you're such a dork," Chiharu said in disgust. "Don't start your crazy stories again."

"Anyway, she's not like that," Sakura said, regaining control of her story again. "What I'm saying is that she doesn't wear black or paint her nails dark or have heavy eye makeup at all. She's not - she's not fake like the girls you see downtown. Her dresses are all elegant and long, and they sweep the floor, and there are these gorgeous lace cuffs, and long sleeved gloves like - like -"

"Like a lady out of the Roccoco period?" Rika supplied helpfully. "With a flowered hat and a parasol?"

"Yes!" Sakura said gratefully. Rika could always be counted on to know the classical references that Sakura didn't understand. "Well - she didn't have a parasol. And I didn't say anything about the hat. How'd you know?"

"Because she's standing over there," Rika said, and pointed behind Sakura towards the edge of the field.

"Oh!" Sakura whirled around, and sure enough there were a pair of strangers standing at the edge of the field, just inside the school fence. One was a tall, bulky man Sakura had never seen before - he wore a dark suit and dark sunglasses that covered his eyes and gave him a menacing aura. Next to him, as delicate looking as a china doll, was Tomoyo.

For a moment she was struck by a weird feeling of dissociation. In her beautiful garden, surrounded by the rich gazebo and that magnificent house, Tomoyo had looked right, part of the archaic scenery. To see her plucked from that setting and placed down on the sweltering, grubby, slightly overgrown P.E. grounds of Tomoeda high school was jarring, like seeing a celebrity in the street for the first time out of costume.

Not that Tomoyo was out of costume. She was wearing a different beautiful dress this time, this one a bright pink and white lace confection with a many-tiered skirt, each layer set off by a ruffle of black lace. The skirt was festooned all over with pink bows and trailing ribbons; a matching bow perched on the wide-brimmed floppy hat that shaded her face and the pink, pearl-encrusted parasol that she was carrying over one shoulder. Her free hand - again encased in a long, pale pink glove - held a camcorder up to her eye, pointed in Sakura's direction.

When she saw Sakura looking her way, Tomoyo raised her hand in a cheery wave and called out, her clear sweet voice piercing the air. She hurried across the field towards them, still carrying the camera, and the black-suited bodyguard (because surely he MUST be a bodyguard!) trailed behind.

"Dear Sakura, I'm so glad I caught you!" Tomoyo said happily. "When I heard that you were going to have a practice today, I thought to myself that I absolutely must take this chance to record you in action. I could never forgive myself if I missed out on one moment of Sakura's glory!"

Sakura blushed hotly. She'd forgotten the way Tomoyo went on about her, and it was a lot more embarrassing in the presence of her friends. "Um," she mumbled. "Guys, this is Tomoyo - Daidouji Tomoyo, my new friend."

"And these must be all of your friends," Tomoyo said, turning her beaming smile on them. "Do please introduce us, I'm simply dying to make all of your acquaintances!"

"Oh, yes," Sakura said, and hurried to introduce everyone. "This is Sasaki Rika, and Yanagisawa Naoko, and Mihara Chiharu. They're my best friends!"

"Nice to meetcha," Chiharu said, and the three of them bobbed in abbreviated curtseys. Sakura could see why; Tomoyo made a stunning first impression. Even as she made the introductions, her gaze was riveted by Tomoyo's dress; it was even more intricate up close, with the panels of pink cloth that appeared plain from a distance on closer inspection to be heavily embroidered with tiny clear glass beads and pink thread in delicate patterns. The layers shifted like heavy satin as she moved, and Sakura found herself wondering how Tomoyo could stand to wear it out in this heat.

Her bodyguard apparently had similar thoughts, because he made an unhappy grunt as his flat shaded gaze swept the open field. "My lady, you shouldn't spend so much time in the sun like this," he said disapprovingly. "We should return to your car."

Sakura glanced upward, a bit surprised by the comment; it was overcast today, though the sun glared down brassily through the layer of clouds with no less heat. She didn't blame the man for being worried about his mistress, though; Tomoyo's pale skin looked like it would burn very easily.

Tomoyo gave a tinkling laugh. "Oh, Kurogane, don't fuss so," she said fondly. "I'll be fine. I'm not made of sugar that will melt in a little bit of heat, you know."

"Lady Tomoyo…" the man rumbled disapprovingly. He took off his sunglasses briefly, the more effectively to frown down on his mistress' head; his eyes were a startling, piercing color of red. "You know better…"

"Oh, very well," Tomoyo said with a sigh. She looked back at the girls from Tomoeda, her violet eyes sparkling vividly. "I'm delighted to meet you all, if only for such a short time," she said, "You are all such charming girls. But, dear Sakura, I wanted to see you more. Won't you come and call on me again?"

"Oh! Yes, of course, if you want me to," Sakura fumbled, and then hesitated. "Actually, I'd… I'd like to ask you something, if you don't mind. That is, I had something I wanted to show you. But I don't have it with me now…" She trailed off. The picture was still back at her home; she hadn't imagined that Tomoyo would come here today, so she hadn't brought it with her. And now she was dressed in her gym clothes, all sweaty and dirty. "Maybe not this afternoon…"

"Perhaps tomorrow, if you don't have practice again?" Tomoyo suggested.

Sakura nodded emphatically. "Sure!"

"Wonderful!" Tomoyo's beaming grin returned, bringing an almost ethereal light to her face. "That will give me enough time to edit this footage that I captured today. I just can't imagine wasting a minute of dear Sakura in action!"

Sakura flushed again, and Rika and Naoko stifled giggles. Tomoyo's grin turned momentarily impish, and then she turned in a fluttering whirl of skirts and ribbons. "Sayonara, then!"

She hurried off as energetically as she'd come, leaving all four of the girls to stare after her. Sakura gave a wistful sigh, the hot afternoon somehow feeling drained and dimmer without her. "Isn't she amazing?" she said.

"She's certainly very elegant," Rika said, sounding impressed. "I've never seen anyone so well-mannered."

"Like a fairy princess," Naoko said dreamily, no doubt off in one of her creations again. "So pretty."

"Really? I thought she was kinda creepy," Chiharu said.

"What? How can you say that?" Sakura looked at Chiharu, shocked and hurt. Chiharu was always plain-spoken, it was one of the things that made her such a great friend, but she couldn't believe her friend would say something like that.

Chiharu scowled, then shrugged, her curly pigtails bouncing. "Well, she kind of is!" she exclaimed. "I mean, you only just met her yesterday, and she came all the way to your school, with a video camera even! And seriously, those clothes, who dresses like that nowadays?"

"Well, I like her," Sakura said defensively. "And I like her clothes. They might be old-fashioned, but they, but she…"

"They suit her," Rika supplied, and Sakura nodded. "As though she were from another time."

"Maybe she's the lost princess Anastasia, who disappeared after the Russian King was killed in the revolution," Naoko suggested.

Chiharu sighed and rolled her eyes. "That was almost a hundred years ago, Nao-chan," she said. "Anastasia has got to be dead by now."

"Not if she was a vampire," Naoko said stubbornly. "Then she'd be young and beautiful forever."

"She's obviously not a vampire, she was standing out in the open in the middle of the day," Chiharu scorned. "She's just a weird girl with a fetish for fancy clothing. But I won't say anything when she's around," Chiharu added, turning to Sakura.

"Well… all right," Sakura said grudgingly. "But I still think you're wrong about her. She's wonderful."

"She's just a little eccentric," Rika said. "A lot of rich people are. But it's good for you, Sakura-chan, that she's taken a liking to you. She'll probably buy you lots of expensive presents, and you can go over to her fancy house all the time."

"I'm not doing it for that!" Sakura said indignantly, and her friends all smiled. "I wouldn't do something like that!"

"Of course you wouldn't, Sakura-chan," Naoko said. "A tomboy like you wouldn't care about girly frills and fancy things. All we're saying is, you should make the most of your good luck."

Sakura frowned. Always the same… even her friends, the ones who knew her best, always put her in that same box. Just because her clothes were plain, because Touya dressed her in his old boys' hand-me-downs, because she had to spend her time exploring outside instead of playing video games like the other girls, people just assumed…

"I will," she said aloud, thinking of Tomoyo's beautiful house, the picture she had stashed away under her pillow like a secret. "Don't worry."

The next day was a Saturday, but Sakura woke up early in the morning despite that, too excited by the thought of the meeting later to sleep. She hurried out of bed and then spent nearly half an hour agonizing over what to wear - aside from her school uniform, all of her clothes were casual streetwear, and she didn't want to show up at Tomoyo's lovely house in ripped jeans and a stained t-shirt (even if that WAS what she'd worn the last time.) She finally settled on the nicest clothes she had - a pair of dark-blue jeans and a shirt with slightly ruffled sleeves and silver stars on it, and at least she would be taking off her grubby sneakers at the door.

By the time she was up, dressed, and washed, Touya had peeled himself out of bed and was slurping down udon noodles at the table. "Will you look at that, the bear came out of its cave early," he said sarcastically. "What's got you up at this hour, squirt?"

She glared at him, then went over to the kitchen to dig out some crackers to eat. "I'm going over to Tomoyo's," she said. "She asked me to come over today."

"Really? This early?" Touya sounded surprised. "Most people her age like to sleep in till noon at least. Are you sure she's even awake yet?"

"I... oh..." Sakura's steps towards the front door faltered as she realized Touya was right. Tomoyo hadn't specified a time, and Sakura didn't have her phone number to call her and check. She chewed her lip as she looked at the door a moment. "You think I should wait and go over later?"

"I would," Touya said, then tipped his head back to gulp down the broth. He set the bowl down and wiped his mouth. "The only people who come to your door before noon are milkmen, mailmen, and Jehovah's Witnesses. And you wouldn't want to make yourself any more obnoxious than you already are."

Sakura huffed at him, but gave up on the idea of rushing over to Tomoyo's house at the earliest possible moment. In an effort to keep herself distracted, Sakura threw herself into the list of chores that had piled up while Sakura had been busy at gymnastics practice. That meant, unfortunately, that Sakura was elbow-deep in suds with a handkerchief over her hair when the doorbell rang.

Sakura hurriedly rinsed her hands and went over to the door, frowning; who would be at their door on a Saturday? The NHK representatives kept trying to collect fees despite repeatedly being shown that they had no TV in the house, but they usually only showed up on weekdays... Sakura stood on her tiptoes to look out the spyhole, and found herself faced with a tall, unfamiliar man in a black and white suit. His hair was a startling blond color and his eyes were blue; true blond, not the brassy orange that most of the college boys dyed it to. Sakura's confusion grew; what was he doing in Tomoeda and what did he want with them? Was he some kind of salesman, or maybe a missionary?

Still, whoever he was, it was rude just to keep him standing on the porch; as he raised his hand to press the buzzer again, Sakura undid the locks on the door and swung it open. The stranger's eyes widened and his smile broadened upon seeing her, and he swept her an eloquent bow.

"Ah, Princess Sakura!" he said, beaming, in nearly flawless Japanese. "My name is Fai Flowright. I've been sent to take you to Miss Daidouji's house for tea this afternoon. Are you ready to go, or shall I wait?"

"Take me?" Sakura blinked in astonishment.

"Yes, your chariot awaits!" The stranger - Fai - straightened up and took a step back, sweeping his arm out behind him. Sakura looked past him across the concrete step to the parking lot; wedged in among the familiar Vespas and Hondas was a long, low, sleek black car. It looked foreign, but more importantly, it looked classy and expensive.

"Who's at the door?" Touya called, and came out of his room adjusting the ties on his work uniform. He caught sight of the stranger in the doorway, and his expression shifted to a scowl. "Who's this?"

"Fai D. Flowright, at your service," the blond man said cheerfully, although he did not repeat his extravagant bow. He was dressed in a neat black and white outfit - black trousers and vest over a crisp white shirt, with scarlet buttons and trim around the wrists and cuffs. "I'm here to transport your lovely sister to the Daidouji household. Is there anything you want to bring?" he addressed to Sakura.

"Oh - just a moment - " Sakura hurriedly stripped off the rubber gloves and the handkerchief from her head, stashing them under the sink. She darted back into her room to fetch the photo album from where it had been stashed under her pillow, hugging it tight to her chest for a moment before she slipped it into a messenger bag. When she went out into the main room again, Touya and the man Fai seemed to be in the middle of an argument.

" - don't want just any strange man walking in off the street and expecting to take my sister anywhere," Touya was saying angrily, almost nose-to-nose with the stranger - or at least he would have been, if he hadn't come up barely to the man's shoulder. Touya was fairly tall by Japanese standards, and not used to being towered over; it was clear he didn't like it. Fai, on the other hand, was just smiling in a friendly way, obviously unfazed by the younger man's hostility.

"Brother!" Sakura huffed in annoyance. "You don't need to be so mean! Tomoyo is being really nice to send someone over to pick me up."

"That's assuming he even works for the Daidoujis at all, and isn't just some weird pervert trying to kidnap you!" Touya snapped. "He could be a Russian pimp, for all you know! How do we know you are who you say you are?"

"I fully understand, sir," the blond man said, and reached into a pocket to pull out a slender leather card-case. He flipped it open and handed it over to Touya, who snatched it out of his hand and glared at it. "If you like, I can show you my gaijin card and work permit, as well," he added cheerfully, and Touya transferred the glare to him.

Sakura pushed herself between the two men, and pulled the leather case out of Touya's hand to look at it herself; it contained a neat ID badge with a glittering embedded chip, and the Daidouji family name and what she assumed to be their crest printed across the background. Fai's face beamed out at her from the badge, along with his name in both romaji and kana. "See?" she said.

"Anyone can fake a badge," Touya started to argue, but Sakura had had enough.

"Jeez, stop being so paranoid!" Sakura rolled her eyes. "I'm going to see my friend, and you can't stop me. I'll be back later, okay?"

"All right," Touya said grudgingly. "Call the restaurant if you have any problems. Or when you leave, I'll walk you home. The earlier the better."

"You can't leave your job in the middle of a shift just to walk me home!" Touya had always been protective, but this was just getting annoying. She grabbed her messenger bag and started out the door; Fai, smiling disarmingly, followed behind her. "I'll see you tonight, Brother."

Her confidence waned as Fai held open the back door of the car for her to climb in, like a taxi driver. The interior of the back seat was lined with a heavy plush purple velvet, the seats a dark rich leather. It smelled dusty and warm, and it took her a little while to find the seatbelts in the dark interior. Fai got in the driver's seat and the car pulled away smoothly, and for a moment Sakura was struck by a dizzying panic. She hadn't ridden inside a car for years; when she wasn't walking to school, she took a train or a bus. In this closed-in cabin she could hardly see the road around her.

Fai quickly distracted her, however, by talking easily and cheerfully over his shoulder as he drove. Her initial impression of him as a friendly, outgoing man was soon confirmed; and as they chatted he skillfully drew her out and made her feel comfortable. The car spun smoothly through a dozen tiny side roads that Sakura only knew in passing, and before she knew it they were pulling down the long, flower-lined driveway of the Fujitaka - now the Daidouji - estate.

Unlike the last time when she had come up from behind the property through the gardens, this time she was approaching the mansion from the main entrance; for a moment she was dazzled by the sheer grandeur of the façade. They passed through a wrought iron gate which opened by remote-control and closed after them, and pulled up to a large covered porch set with glimmering tiles, almost like a hotel. Sakura got out of the back of the car and stared up at the four rearing stories of white siding, its many windows glinting in the sun, before she heard Fai chuckle behind her.

"It's quite a lot to take in, isn't it?" he said sympathetically, and Sakura gulped and nodded. Fai laughed, a warm infectious humor. "Don't worry, all the staff is expecting you. Miss Daidouji was quite looking forward to this date and drove everyone to distraction making sure every detail was right.

"A date?" Sakura said, flustered. "Oh, it's not -"

"A figure of speech," Fai reassured her. "Don't worry, you needn't be shy."

Unfortunately, that just served to make her more shy; when Fai turned back to the car to drive it away to some hidden garage, Sakura almost ran after him. But she clutched her hands around the hard outline of the photo album in her bag, took a deep breath, and walked forward into the house.

The front hallway was more than grand, a glass-fronted vault that went all the way up to the roofs and let light pour in to fill the space below. The decorations were neat and elegant but not sterile, warm lighting conspiring to make the scattering of chairs and benches set around low tables look inviting. Potted plants rose out of urns or spilled over windowsills, tending heavily towards lacy-looking ferns. A rich pattern of tiles - colorful with brown, gold, and white accented with bright blue - marched away into branching hallways in every direction, and wide curving staircases lined two of the walls.

A pattering of footsteps broke her awed inspection, and Sakura turned to see Tomoyo herself hurrying down one of the stairs. "You came! Oh, you came!" the teenager said, slightly out of breath and smiling fit to burst. "How lovely! Oh, do come with me!"

Even indoors, Tomoyo still wore a wide-brimmed flowered hat and long gloves, but her dress today was very different from the previous days - although no less striking. Instead of light, delicate pastels she wore a gown of deep, vivid purple that seemed to match her eyes, and the ruffles of lace that encircled her upper arms, wrists, neck and hem were black. An elegant pattern of gold thread glinted from the violet folds, the fabric itself seeming almost alive, and a brooch of dark purple roses at her throat matched the broad ribbon encircling her hat.

"There is so much to do," Tomoyo cried, grabbing Sakura's hands between her own. Tomoyo's silk-gloved hands were cool to the touch, and she dragged Sakura behind her towards the staircase with a breathless enthusiasm.

Another succession of incredibly beautiful, luxurious hallways went by in a blur, as Tomoyo dragged her friend down one of the wings on the second floor where they fetched up in a large playroom lined with mirrors and chests. Tomoyo released Sakura to sit on a padded bench while she rushed about, pulling clothes on hangars from standing wardrobes and walk-in closets.

"Ever since we spoke yesterday I simply haven't been able to get you out of my mind," Tomoyo was saying, happily sorting through a pile of spangle-shot skirts and scarves. "Your coloring is so vivid - so flushed and healthy - so marvelous. So many of the clothes I've bought but simply could never wear because my complexion doesn't suit them, at last I'll have a chance to see what they would look like on such a gorgeous model!"

She spun around in a swirl of lace petticoats, and before Sakura knew it a heavy fabric headband had been placed on her head; she raised her hand to explore it and her fingers brushed against a profusion of feathers and beads. Tomoyo was holding up different blouses, still on their hangars, against her. "You're a summer, of course, so I think we'll start with these greens and pinks - breezy, light scarves would suit you well, I think, especially when you're in motion…"

"Um, Tomoyo -" Sakura started, reaching up to grab at the hangar as the fabric slithered down her front. "Um, I know it's a little soon, but there was something I wanted to ask you…"

Tomoyo stopped mid-motion, her head cocked to the side and her arms full of lace. "Yes?" she said invitingly.

"Well, I thought because you knew so much about clothes, maybe you could tell me…" Sakura fumbled for her messenger bag, and drew out the photo album within. Tomoyo's gaze sharpened on the worn leather-bound book, and she set her handfuls of fabric carefully aside before she sat down next to Sakura on the padded bench.

"My mother was a model, you see," Sakura explained as she opened the book to the glossy photo spreads. "My dad - used to get all of her pictures, before they went to print, and I still have them."

Tomoyo looked up from the page to her. "When did you lose your mother?" she asked gently.

"Oh - it was a long time ago," Sakura said, and she wouldn't have thought that such an old loss could still make her feel such a pang of sadness. "When I was still just a little girl. I don't really remember her that well, that's why my dad gathered all the pictures."

"Hmm. So she never really got the chance to teach you how to make yourself a beauty." Tomoyo ran one finger carefully down the edge of the book. "You look very much like her, you know."

Sakura flushed. "Oh, no, I couldn't!" she said. "She was a model, and she was - beautiful! Me, I'm just gangly, and - and plain," she finished sadly. "I don't look like her at all."

"Perhaps not yet," Tomoyo said. "A rosebud which has not yet flowered may appear plain, but the rose itself is beautiful. Give yourself ten years to fully bloom, and your beauty will rival even hers."

"Y-you really think so?" Sakura's face felt hot.

A small, mysterious smile appeared on Tomoyo's face briefly. "Trust me," she said.

"But - anyway, that's not what I wanted to ask you," Sakura said in a rush. She turned the pages of the book on her lap, smoothing the fold out carefully when she came to the one of Nadesiko in the pink and peach-colored dress and turning it so that Tomoyo could see it. "I wanted… well, because you seem to know so much about clothes, and you said… something about designing clothes for me. I was wondering if you would be willing to make me a dress that looks like my mother's."

The moment hovered breathless in the air as Tomoyo studied the picture, her manic humor draining away to a more thoughtful serenity. A few times she tilted the page to better catch the light, or touched the paper with a soft finger as though trying to reach into the frame itself. At least, she looked up at Sakura and spoke.

"This dress must have been quite an accomplishment," she said. "Custom-fit for the model. The borders look like they're composed of ordinary seed pearls, which are not normally lustrous, so I suspect the shine was airbrushed in; but the fabric itself looks like a satin polymer blend which is quite hard to come by. The skirt embroidery is asymmetrical, suggesting a landscape rather than a regular pattern, which means it must have been added on after the skirt was composed rather than printed in the factory. To say nothing of the cross-stitching technique and the special reversed boning of the corset. It is nothing less than a work of art."

"So..." Sakura said hesitantly. "So you don't think you could make a dress like that?"

Tomoyo was silent for a moment more, studying the picture, and then she closed the book with a firm snap and held it briefly on her lap. Her eyes rose up to meet Sakura's, the violet color astonishingly vivid. "I could make this dress," she asserted. "I could even adapt it for you, not for your mother. But it would take some time. I would need to specially order the materials, and many of the parts would have to be hand-sewn. A commission of this magnitude would normally run on the order of hundreds of thousands of yen."

Sakura's heart sank. Even the fancy clothes she longed after in the department stores were too much for her; how could she ever hope to afford something as unique and valuable as that? "I don't have that kind of money," she mumbled, looking down.

Much to her surprise, Tomoyo reached out and put a hand under her chin, tilting her face up. The white silk glove caressed her skin, brushing under her jaw for a moment before withdrawing. "I don't need more money," Tomoyo said, her voice warm with faint amusement. "But there is something else I want, dear Sakura, something only you can provide for me."

"Oh, what?" Sakura's heart began to beat faster, and she wasn't sure if it was just sudden hope. Tomoyo's eyes were so very, very bright.

"You," Tomoyo said, then smiled. "Your presence, of course. I would very much like to have you as my companion, Sakura."

"Your... companion?" Sakura's eyes widened. "What does that mean?"

"It can mean any number of things, most of which you don't need to worry about," Tomoyo assured her. "For now, it just means that I want you by my side, dear Sakura. It means that when I call you, you come. I have everything I need, except for comfort and companionship. I would dearly like to have you by my side, to talk, and play games, and amuse me through the long empty days."

That didn't sound like any problem at all. That was what friends did for each other, wasn't it? If all Tomoyo wanted was company, then Sakura would be more than happy to be her friend. "Okay," she said. "I can do that."

"Are you certain?" Tomoyo's eyes seemed to bore into her, like a searing touch on her skin. "You agree to come to my side whenever I call, to stay by my side for as long as I wish? To be bound by the terms of the compact until I or a higher power release you?"

The words had an odd, almost poetic quality to them that confused Sakura a bit. "Higher power?" she said unsurely. "I don't get it."

A brief smile sped across Tomoyo's face and vanished. "Well, it's the traditional wording," she explained. "My staff always tells me I'm too old-fashioned sometimes. But do you agree?"

For a moment Sakura hesitated. Just a moment, though, before the image of her mother's beautiful dress danced before her eyes, and the temptation overcame her brief doubt. "Yes," she said, making her voice as firm as she could. "I agree."

It was the right answer, because as soon as she said it Tomoyo's face dissolved into a smile, and she bounced to her feet as she squealed in delight. Sakura followed behind her as Tomoyo led the way off across the hall, talking excitedly about all the fun they would have together, and within minutes she'd forgotten that she'd ever had any doubt at all.

~to be continued...

More A/N: This is part 1 of 2, about half the finished fic. I really wanted to post it all together because I feel that breaking it in half hurts the pacing, but there was just no chance I was going to get 10k more words written before Christmas. _ So stay tuned for the further adventures of Cinder-Sakura and Creepy Rich Gothloli Tomoyo!