(no subject)
071. Broken
The minute she dialed the number-speed dial number 1, Sakura-chan’s phone-she had felt the first crack.
With each word-Li-kun is going to Hong Kong, Sakura-chan. Yes, I just heard. No, he’s not coming back-she could feel another small crack.
And then there was a click, and the line went dead, because Sakura-chan had hung up the phone (on her), having finally realized what Tomoyo had seen months ago. She clenched the phone tight, chanting silently, her happiness is my happiness, her happiness is my happiness. The cracks remained, but she would the pieces together with sheer willpower. She had a choir competition coming up. The whole team was counting on her for the solo. Singing was cathartic, after all, wasn’t it?
It took all she had to not scream at the irony of it all. A song of happiness, of joy, talking about the joy of walking through sunlit fields or some other nonsense. Tomoyo was glad for small miracles. In Latin, at least, she could force the meaning out of her mind.
And then the shining moment was over, and it all came rushing back. All she wanted was to go disappear in a corner and cry her-
Her director caught her at that moment, and Tomoyo managed to divine that they had won, yes, and the audience was demanding an encore, yes, and would she mind terribly singing that beautiful piece she was working on after the choir finished?
And of course she said yes while her mind intoned no, no, no.
It would have to wait then, she sighed, walking onto the stage as the main choir finished a pretty a cappella piece. Taking the microphone, she tried again to glue herself back together.
The lyrical French filled the auditorium, and Tomoyo heard herself singing of love and loss.
She couldn’t help it-she, the stoic one, the calm one, the composed one. With a shuddering breath, she soared into the refrain, her heart breaking into a million tiny pieces.