Disclaimers: Card Captor Sakura, and all the characters therein are the sole property of CLAMP, Kodansha and NHK. No copyright infringement is intended.
This is my first fanfic. If you like it, please let me know at firstname.lastname@example.org. If you don’t, keep it to yourself. :-)
Dreaming of Sakura
Kero-chan’s eyes met Sakura’s at the sound of the doorbell. Abandoning her math homework, Sakura motioned to Kero-chan to remain in the room until it was safe. She rushed toward the bedroom door and was gone in an instant. Drifting happily upwards, Kero-chan turned the television back on, the volume down, and resumed the video game he had been forced to pause while Sakura had labored over her math book.
Sakura glanced out the door, and her heart skipped a beat. She pulled the door open with such force that her hair and skirt swirled around her. “Yukito-san!” she cried, realized she was hardly appearing as mature as she ought to and instantly modulated her voice. “Please, come in,” she said, dropping her eyes and standing aside.
His smiling face dipped out of her sight for a moment as he bowed and thanked her. Straightening he held out a bakery box. “I thought you might enjoy some cake,” he said handing over the box and slipping his shoes off.
“Thank you very much,” she said and then suddenly seemed to remember herself. “My brother is not home, he and father won’t be home until very late.”
Yukito smiled, “I know.”
Sakura’s heart tightened in her chest, “You…?”
Yukito bent down until their eyes were level, “I came to see you,” he whispered, his tone strangely solemn.
Her immediate joy, heralded by a sharp intake of breath, was tempered by his tone. “Yukito-san…” she began softly, her puzzlement evident in her voice, but he smiled warmly then and she felt herself relax. “Mmm,” she grinned and moved off towards the kitchen. “I’ll make some tea,” she called over her shoulder. Yukito followed her, offering help. Happily she allowed him to put the cake on a plate, and watched out of the corner of her eye as he sliced the strawberry cream cake into eight pieces. He moved with a grace and ease she envied. He was totally within his body. She looked down at her hands; they were a child’s hands. Suddenly she was overwhelmed by her usual shyness, and she laughed nervously. “Brother is lucky to have a friend like you.”
The silence that followed this statement surprised her and twisting to face him she found him studying her, knife in hand. Blushing hotly, she busied herself with the tea; had she said something wrong? Collecting teacups, plates and silverware, Sakura placed them and the tea onto a tray. Together they carried the tea and cake into the lounge. As Sakura poured, Yukito placed slices of cake before them both. There was a momentary pause before Sakura cried out, “Itadakimasu!” and picking up her fork, plunged it into the waiting cake.
Murmuring their pleasure at the cake and the company, they both ate and engaged in the sort of chitchat that comes between newly established friends. Yukito had begun his second slice when he felt that the girl next to him was relaxed enough to broach the subject that had brought him there. For a moment his mind flew back to Touya telling him about his concern for Sakura, all alone that evening, and the chance this comment had offered him. He had steeled himself all day, had changed his mind countless times, and had never once given into the supposed fears that should accompany the coming admission.
“Sakura-chan”, he began, placing his empty plate down on the table, “would you allow me to tell you about a recurring dream I’ve had?”
Sakura swallowed more than her tea and set the cup down. She turned in her place to face him more squarely and smiled with what she hoped was a reassuring smile, her heart hammering against her lungs. “Of course,” she managed.
Yukito looked away for a moment, as if searching for the dream’s image in the room. When his eyes came to rest on her face again he smiled disarmingly, and strangely, blushed. “The dream always begins the same,” he began, “I’m alone, and it’s nighttime. I know that I’ve ridden my bicycle to this place, but it is no place I recognize. There are buildings on one side, and a forest on the other. A street light, or several lights, are lighting the area enough for me to see. When I look down at my feet one foot is in the grass, and one is one the street.” He paused, as if gauging her reaction. She smiled, and nodded. Drawing in breath he continued.
“The sound of wings makes me look up, but the street light is somewhat blinding so I can barely see a form, in the sky, riding on a pinkish sort of key.” He blushed again, “It is dark, so seeing details is sort of hard.”
Sakura drew in air as her lungs made the rest of the body aware of the fact that she was holding her breath. Before she could consider further though he went on.
“It has long white wings, and a slender body, and the form that is riding it is a girl; I can tell because she is wearing a dress. The dress changes too, in different dreams I mean. One night it will be blue, and on another night red.” He looked at her for understanding. She nodded vigorously, hoping that the growing paleness she felt didn’t show. Did he know? Was he trying to tell her gently? Was he looking for confirmation?
“I follow the figure, running down the street, but I don’t really move or at least the scene doesn’t change.” Again she nodded. Everyone has dreams like that. “But even as I run one foot is still on the street and one on the grass. When I first had this dream I would run for a very long time, but suddenly, recently, the figure turns and flies into the forest, and I turn and follow…leaving the buildings behind. I don’t know why I can still see, but I follow her, easily, as if I’m running on a path. She never flies faster than I can run, if I slow, she slows.” His look became momentarily intense, searching, but then passed.
“We stop by a pool, she hovers briefly over the water, and very slowly turns towards me. Just as I’m about to see her face I awake. Everytime. The really strange thing is I know her. I’m sure of it!” His voice dropped, “And I’ve known her all my life.”
Sakura sighed from her soul and sat back. Her mind raced in too many directions to put any of it into words. When she again met his eyes there was a need there that startled her. She tried to laugh, but nothing came out.
“How long have you been having this dream?” She finally ventured.
Yukito looked up then, “Since I was 6 years old. It’s only been in the past year that I’ve made some discoveries about the dream, and about myself.”
Sakura tilted her head, longing to hear more, and at the same time scared of what might follow.
“What I’ve learned,” he paused, drawing in a deep breath, “is that I have waited 10 years to meet her, that I am meant to be with her, and that I will wait as long as necessary to be with her.”
Suddenly he scooped her hand from off her lap and gave it a squeeze. With his usual smile he bent over her and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for listening Sakura-chan.” Dropping her hand he rose and after thanking her for the cake and tea took his leave of her. In a moment she was alone.
From his position on the stairs Cerebus watched as the young man left the house. Inwardly he smiled, and floated down the stairs to join Sakura on the couch.