Ghost (Tomoyo/Sakura)

[storypaint]

Title: Ghost
Author: rhap_chan
Fandom: Cardcaptor Sakura
Pairing: Daidouji Tomoyo/Kinomoto Sakura
Challenge #: 20 (table 2) for 20loves
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Cardcaptor Sakura belongs to CLAMP.

Summary: Tomoyo misses Sakura. She sees her everywhere.

The other day on the street I saw a girl with green, green eyes and my lips parted, your name threatening to spill over my lips, but--

It wasn't you. It never is.

Three weeks ago I smelled your smell in a department store. I went there to find inspiration for my next clothing line, but I ended up in the perfume department, like I always do. The girls are used to the ritual by now, and always bring it quickly. One spritz and I'm off remembering how sweetly the scent blended with your skin and how it always made my heart race.

Still, it wasn't you. It never is.

It's been years now since you walked away, arm in arm with a boy I cannot hate, for I encouraged him to love you. You deserved better than me. Still I can't help to this day to see your face in the crowds, to hear your voice in my dreams.

But I'm happy. Your happiness is my happiness, this is my promise. Were we unimaginably to meet on the street I would smile and laugh and do all the little things that meant Tomoyo to you, and later I would lie awake in bed and listen to the tapes I made when we were young, and hear my name from your child's lips and wish those lips were mine to kiss.

I wonder sometimes if I am a ghost haunting your heart, and if some summer nights you look up at that sky and are pleased to know that I am gazing at the same stars. But I doubt it. It was I who broke contact, after all.

Your dresses still hang in a special part of my closet, with Kero's bows and vests carefully pinned to the hangers. Sometimes-- rarely-- I turn all the lights off and sleep with my face buried in the remains of your scent in one of those dresses. They are a reminder of happier times.

But I'm happy, aren't I? My happiness is your happiness, for as long as your ghost haunts me.

Some summer nights and winter nights and in the fall and spring I look up at the sky and pray that you are gazing at the same stars as me. Just this little boon, God, that your eyes are focused on the same point of light.

A year ago I saw you-- the real you-- hurrying down the sidewalk after a tall young man whose smile had become much easier since you left me to be with him. You bumped against my shoulder (the outfit I wore that day hangs in the special closet too) and glanced for a moment into my eyes. There was a spark of recognition as you apologized, but I hurried away before you could ask how I'd been, and where.

For my happiness to be your happiness, the ghost must remain dead.