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Ever since he was little, Syaoran had fought monsters, battled immortal guardians, and more scarily, survived his mother’s training. There were few things left on the planet that could surprise him.
Yet, despite all that, nothing was as frightening as Tomoyo’s smile when she says, I’ve got the perfect outfit for this.
Absolutely nothing. He'd even rank the fight with Yue below it.
Tugging on his coat, he had to admit that his outfit wasn't bad for once. While Tomoyo had a gift for design, almost all of her creations were some level of impracticality, better suited for photo shoots than actual wear. Today’s outfit was no less fashion forward, a snowflake-themed outfit complete with sharp edges and inconvenient dangling snowflakes. As long as something magical didn’t happen, the ensemble was more annoying than in the way.
“Now turn to the right,” Tomoyo ordered, stars in her eyes and a video camera in hand. A drone floated around him but she liked the personal touch of taking her own shots.
Slightly exasperated, he obliged. They’d been at this for a good ten minutes now. He was used to this when it came to Sakura, less so for himself, and even then it had never been as public as this, in the middle of the town’s ice rink. When he’d agreed to go skating, Syaoran had expected to, you know, actually skate. At this rate, it looked like he’d be stuck outside the bathrooms until closing.
Freed from her own photoshoot, Meiling smiled happily as she watched. “You'll send me some pics, right?”
“A whole video package,” Tomoyo answered, shooting her a thumbs up.
Syaoran wondered if it was too late to run. And just what was Meiling doing with pictures of him? She’d broken off their enga—she was going to send them to his sisters. A chill ran up his spine and he wasn’t sure if that was premonition or just a really good guess.
“Ehh? Really?” Meiling brightened up more, if possible, her expression almost glowing. “And thanks for making me an outfit too!” She twirled around to show off her cheongsam-styled dress with a flared skirt. “I’ve always wanted a Tomoyo creation!”
“Of course.” Tomoyo closed her camera and pumped a fist in the air. “A group collection, making each piece uniquely tailored for everyone’s personality but match overall as a whole…” She quivered. “It was a dream come true.” Happily, she sighed, pressing a hand against her cheek as she admired Meiling. “Why, coming up with your ribbons and accessories were the best parts.”
Popping out of the changeroom, Kero fly triumphantly toward them. “Not as great as mine!” He tugged on his snowflake tie with a grin. “The most handsome fellow is here now!”
“Ahhh, the stuffed animal’s escaped,” Meiling muttered in a deadpan. It was amazing how quickly her enthusiastic smile melted into a blank expression. “Put him back in his cage and remove his stuffing.”
“Who’re you calling a stuffed animal, you annoying brat?” Kero growled, and Syaoran had a strange feeling of déjà vu as the pair argued.
“Um, Tomoyo,” Sakura called out, interrupting the fight as she timidly stepped out of the washroom. “We’re just skating, right? We don’t need all this.”
Syaoran tried had not stare. Really, he tried. Tomoyo had always dressed Sakura cutely, and today was no exception. With a white fluffy skirt and a ruffled, ice-blue dress shirt, she looked like a snow princess. Dimly, he was aware of Tomoyo’s knowing glance but he couldn’t do anything about it. Hell, he couldn’t even think of a word to say to Sakura. “Y-you…” he stuttered, but it was like he’d forgotten how to speak. How did they talk before? How was he ever able to get past mono-syllabic words?
Not missing a beat, Tomoyo cooed and turned her camera to Sakura immediately. “Nonsense! My work isn’t just for magical fights.”
“Yeah,” Kero agreed, floating around Sakura and tugging his bow again. “And I look good!”
“For a stuffed animal,” Meiling added snidely.
“Besides,” Tomoyo barreled on, ignoring the interruptions. “If anything else weird happens and you have to create another Sakura card, you’ll already be dressed!” She frowned, twirling a long lock around her finger dejectedly. “I missed all your adventures recently.”
Sakura bit her lip, friendship and self-consciousness warring on her expression. In the end, as expected, shame lost and she clasped Tomoyo’s hands. Forcing a smile, she nodded. “Of course!”
“Great!” Tomoyo smiled gratefully before pulling out her camera. “Now, smile!”
-x-
“Here, let me help.” Sakura glided up to him smoothly. Even her stop looked graceful and Syaoran was reminded once more on how easy sports came to her. “You can’t skate like that.”
Leaning against the railing, he wanted to argue that he could. Technically, he was almost halfway around the rink now, even if that was more out of a stubborn determination than anything else. Yet Sakura was leaning close, her hand out expectantly, and without realizing it, his hand was already on hers. The second her fingers curled around his palm, he burned a bright red and resisted the urge to pull away. “T-thanks,” Syaoran managed, barely keeping his voice deeper than a squeak.
“It’s fine!” Sakura smiled brightly at him and his heart flipped. Did she know she did that to him? She had to, right? He was a terrible liar, all things considered, and there was absolutely no way he was able to hide what he felt around her. “That’s what friends are for!”
Then again, she’d always been some level of dense. Syaoran took a deep breath, trying to calm his speeding pulse. “Right.”
At this point she was skating backwards, slowly pulling him along the skating rink. Both of his hands were in hers now, and it wasn’t like they were holding hands. This was all to stop him from falling but no matter how many times he repeated that, even through the gloves, his skin burned from the contact. Trying to distract himself, he commented, “You’re really good at this.”
It was a normal level of praise, given in an entirely normal way.
Sakura grinned, puffing her chest proudly. “It’s cause I rollerblade all the time. It’s the same thing, only the brakes work differently.”
“They do?” Syaoran asked, curious despite himself.
“Yeah.” Sakura slowed their pace down and gestured at her skates. “You change the angle of the blades when you stop, but with rollerblades I just tilt it back.” She grimaced. “It was scary to do that though.”
That surprised him. He had thought the only thing that scared her were ghosts. Sakura picked up the pace again and he urged his clumsy feet to keep up with her. Every time he wobbled, she tightened her grip on his hands, keeping him steady and balanced. If there was one small mercy, it was that he hadn’t fallen in front of her.
From his peripherals, he was dimly aware of Meiling slowly skating around the rink, her balance little better than his. Tomoyo was making circles around them, her camera in hand, and he could already picture her replaying this on her theatre-sized screen.
At some point, it didn’t feel as unnatural pushing one foot in front of the other. In fact, it felt kinda smooth and he peeked down at his feet.
He was gliding.
“You’re doing it!” Sakura chirped, echoing his thoughts, and he looked up to find her smiling proudly.
“I-I am,” he stuttered, surprised. Straightening his posture, he repeated more confidently, “I am!”
“Great.” Sakura loosened her hold. “I’m going to let go, okay?”
“Yeah—wait, what?” Syaoran panicked as she let go and slipped to his side. He wasn’t ready. He definitely wasn’t ready and—oh, his feet were still moving forward, still gliding.
“See? You can do it,” Sakura cheered, coming to a stop to watch him. “Just like that.”
“Yeah.” Syaoran added more power to his legs, pushing off the ice more firmly. He could do this. Looking over his shoulder, he shouted excitedly, “I’m skating!”
That was a mistake. Sakura only smiled in response, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. She didn’t feel that way about him, he knew. Her eyes were for Yukito, and she didn’t feel that way about him at all. But something about her looked bashful, her cheeks a rosy red (from the cold, he reminded himself), her eyes slightly downcast. Syaoran swallowed.
Should he say something?
Do something?
He crashed into the side of the rink before he could figure it out.
“Syaoran!” Sakura yelled, horror colouring her voice. “I’m coming!”
“Me too,” Meiling shouted. “Really slowly.”
“Sakura…Meiling…” Dazed, he lay flat on the cold ice. The world turned a shade of yellow: the ice, his hands, even the shadow looming over him. Looking up, he found Tomoyo giving him an amused smile.
“You okay there?” she asked. “What happened?”
He blinked. “I think so.” His knees and chin ached, but he’d suffered worse fighting the Clow cards. Or were they Sakura cards now? Lying flat, he closed his eyes. “I was just...surprised.”
“Mmm…” Tomoyo hummed thoughtfully. “She didn’t teach you to brake, did she?”
Nor did she teach him to turn, so he would have ended up like this at one point or another. Now that he was still, he could finally feel how cold it was, how the chill sank into his bones. His hands were still hot, tingling from her touch, and it was like everything he’d felt for Yukito but amped up to the max. “I didn’t think it’d be so hard,” he muttered, half to himself.
“It’s always harder than you expect,” Tomoyo answered knowingly and he opened his eyes to catch her sympathetic gaze. It was like she knew everything and he wouldn’t be surprised if there was magic in her lineage too. “Need help?”
She offered her hand and he stared at it. It was tempting. Beyond tempting. He was tired of feeling flustered, of trying and failing on his own. Looking past her, he watched as Sakura quickly rushed toward them, concern on her face, giving her best like she always did. Even with Yukito, no matter how clumsy she got around him, she tried her best.
How could he do anything less? Taking Tomoyo’s hand, he shook his head as he stood up. “I can do it.”
“Are you okay?” Finally caught up, Sakura braked hard and stopped right in front of him. She scanned him, her body bobbing up and down as she checked all of his limbs before determining there were no wounds. “I’m sorry!”
Despite himself, his body stiffened automatically. “I-it’s fine.”
“Really?” Sakura prodded his head gently, still looking for an injury. “Maybe we should get helmets.”
Her finger grazed his ear and it was too much, way too much. Knees weak, he collapsed again.
“Syaoran?” Sakura gaped in horror.
By this point, Meiling had finally pushed her way to their side of the rink and she reached down to touch his forehead. “He feels feverish.” She frowned. “Maybe he’s sick?”
“In a sense, he is, but it’s nothing to worry about.” Tomoyo winked at him. “Sure you don’t want any help?”
He’d be lying if he wasn’t reconsidering his stance.