BATHTUB MEMORIES
by varon, age 18
standard disclaimers apply
fic archive: .com/
varon_

"Every now and then
I find myself wond'ring about you, baby
Seems now and again
I can't escape the thought of all that might have been
Every now and then."

-- from "Every Now and Then" by Earth, Wind and Fire

"Over here, please," Tomoyo politely instructed, pointing a finger in the direction of her bathroom. She moved out of the way so the three men could easily sidestep her and fit the huge ceramic fixture through the door.

Which, evidently, proved to be some sort of the problem. As soon as they reached the door and were prepared to go through it and get the damn job done, they were met with a minor crisis: the tub wouldn't fit in. The men harrumphed and tried again, counting to three and charged in, but that didn't work either. So they settled the bathtub on the floor momentarily, trying to figure out how to position it properly. One of them, though, wasn't as optimistic. "Miss Daidouji," the tallest, auburn-haired Service Crew member said, as the other two wiped sweat off their foreheads and flexed their muscles, "I am almost afraid to say that this bathtub is... too wide for your door." He then craned his neck to one side, as if to release the tension in his neck muscles.

"But your men measured it, twice, already!" Tomoyo exclaimed, refusing to become annoyed. Even when she had been disappointed for two whole days of bringing her hopes up at having this tub installed immediately, she would not be perturbed. "Surely, they would make no mistake, right, Sir?"

"Yes, Ma'm," he replied with all honesty, the name tag on his uniform identifying him as Sakuragi, "but it is possible that some error might have been made, and so it is close to impossible for us to fit in this thing--"

He drifted off because she had then fixed him an unreadable look, something between "don't-you-dare-cross-me-because-I-am-one-tough-bitch" and "would-the-nice-young-man-please-do-something-about-this-pretty-please." Whatever it was, it definitely was working its magic to his subconscious. He couldn't bear the thought of pursuing his initial mission of giving her the bad news. "Y-yes, Ma'm," he replied instead, mortified that he had stammered, and it was not even because he was enchanted by this beauty before him, "We'll try again."

Tomoyo nodded, with an expression that said "Good, so get to it" with all the superior air of the Queen of France. Immediately the man realized with full clarity that it was not an option to displease Tomoyo Daidouji.

"Ready, guys?" he nervously called out to his companions. They noted his discomfort and wisely chose to accede to his wishes. "Perhaps Takeshi-san could go in first, then Kaede-kun and I will try to tilt it until it could fit --" Sakuragi ventured a peek at Tomoyo out of the corner of his eye and saw her standing behind them, arms crossed, looking very much similar to that vulture of a supervisor they have back at the factory -- "Okay?"

"Yeah, we could try that," Takeshi mumbled, moving into position.

By sheer determination (or by another sort of miracle Sakuragi prayed for, as he was suddenly overcome by an irrational fear of failing in this duty) they managed to fit the tub through the door, and somehow managed to install it in less than thirty minutes (as opposed to the anticipated forty-five-minute installation their office was so damn proud of), with the water running perfectly, the knobs all working in the right direction, and with complimentary bath oils of the imported leading brand.

Tomoyo saw the nice and efficient young workers to her door, thanking them with a smile that could make the gods fall down to earth like fallen tennyos of Ayashi no Ceres, and failed to notice the immense relief radiating from Sakuragi's body.

* * *

She hasn't quite gotten the feel of her new apartment yet -- it has only been five days, after all -- but there's plenty of time for that. And now that she has the most essential feature of her new home installed, that tiny problem is out of her system. For what better way to get acquainted with a new apartment than soaking oneself in a tub?

An hour after the men left, Tomoyo had the water running, set to the temperature she preferred -- not too hot nor too cold -- and busied herself with arranging the fluffy white towels, her terry-cloth robe, and the complimentary bath oil bottles, lining them near the counter for easy access later. Satisfied with her work, and while waiting for the water to fill the tub, Tomoyo grinned at her choice. She liked how the cream-colored ceramic went with the color scheme she picked for this apartment, how the soft beige seemed to compliment the tiles and the walls. Makes for atmosphere. Tomoyo sighed in satisfaction. She had made the right choice of decorating the apartment herself. Her taste *had* always been impeccable.

Soon she was stripping off her clothes, taking a quick shower, then was immersing herself in the bath she drew for herself. She remembered to tie her hair up in a bun first then putting the shower cap over it. Ah. Her skin tingled as it made contact with the warm water, which felt simply wonderful. She settled herself deeper into the bath until the water was up to her chin, closed her eyes, then grinned contentedly. At the pleasure she was deriving from this simple sensation, Tomoyo decided it had been too long.

She had always loved soaking in the tub. She recalled that her childhood days, half-spent with videotaping Sakura and sewing costumes for her, were rewarded with dabbing at the water (with the traditional rubber duckie and various other water toys when she had been really young). She enjoyed it immensely, and grew to be unmindful of the servant, who was sent to shampoo her hair, scrub her back, and make sure she had a proper bath time. (Moreover Tomoyo had learned to be deaf to the poor maid's reproachful cries of "Ojousama, please don't put the rubber squeak in your mouth" and "Ojousama, please stop twisting around" and "Ojousama, please stop holding your breath underwater and come up so I can rinse you off.") Tomoyo grew up loving the water, for the serenity it brings to her well-being, but more especially growing fond of the baths she took in the bathtub and the calming, relaxing effect it had on her nerves. It was like a drug, she knew, and to be away from it would almost disrupt her balance and her sound state of mind. That sounded like an exaggeration, Tomoyo conceded, but it wasn't any less true.

But sacrifices had been imperative. Of course, she couldn't ask too much from Tira-chan. Tomoyo, as a guest in her college friend's dormitory, could only be too grateful for Tira's generosity in letting her shack up with her for a good three and a half weeks. Tomoyo had made no demands, as was the right thing to do, and kept her complaints to a minimum (and, in fact, was the "perfect guest" that Tira claimed she loved having Tomoyo over and would adore being her housemate again). Instead she settled on pining after the loss of her panacea in silence.

But now that she had bought her own apartment (after almost four long, agonizing weeks) Tomoyo now had her basic glory back in her life. Maybe it was wrong that she saw the bathtub as one of her major escapes when she grew confused (after pouring it on innocent, unsuspecting fabric, of course), or when she just wanted to forget the world for a while, but saw no real reason to rationalize her fondness for the bath. This is the life, Tomoyo sighed. She closed her eyes and forgot the entire world, letting the silence wash over her.

Soon she found herself experimenting with the weight of her arm against the water. It was one of the weirder things she could think of whenever her creativity got the better of her (or so she'd like to justify). She completely relaxed her body, trying to distribute her weight evenly across all her limbs, raised her arm to the surface of the water, then let it float to her side. Cool, Tomoyo chuckled to herself, noting that the water was almost pulling her under, becoming oppressive against her weight. Only, unlike the pool, she knew she was in no danger of drowning.

She also wondered why this little experiment was so disturbingly familiar.

Figures I'll concoct all sorts of geeky concepts in my head, she thought. If she could, she would roll her eyes at herself. What was this called in science? Lack of mass? Suspension of gravity? She thought a little more. Oh yeah, I got it -- density.

Density.

Tomoyo frowned, not liking the sudden uneasy feeling. Stupid Physics term. Dissecting the definition, she came up with the explanation that her body was less dense than the water, that's why --

It floats, another voice seemed to finish for her.

A deeper, very masculine baritone se erased from her memory the moment she walked out of his mansion. Or at least, tried to.

"You see," he had intoned in mock seriousness, "the volume of the water is greater than the mass of the human body --" at that his eyes had raked playfully down hers, and she had giggled as she tipped his chin up with her free hand to meet her gaze, "so, my dear Tomoyo, our limbs can float on water. They're lighter and less dense than the surrounding liquid."

His face was millimeters from her own, and she wondered what was so wrong with him that he could possibly find something interesting in a lecture about density. However she had been absorbed in his gaze, and focused on finding out what was so damn right about him. His eyes had been an easy distraction, and she had debated whether they were a deep blue-black or just a bizarre shade of navy blue, tinged with gray. She gave up after a fraction of a second as her attention turned to his mouth, wanting nothing more of the moment than to close that microscopic gap between them and kiss him with mad passion.

But no, he just had to play with her a little and ruin the moment by letting her hand, which he had lightly grasped so as to effectively demonstrate his appealing knowledge about density, drop to the water, the ripples disturbing its smooth, bubble-covered surface. Distracted, Tomoyo managed an irritated "Hey" and retaliated by scooping bubbles from their shared bath and throwing it to his face, intended for his eyes. He had turned away however, with an "Oi!" of his own, and the bubbles landed squarely on his cheek. They kept up that little game, which ultimately escalated to a full-blown water fight, but they were too busy laughing to notice they were drenching themselves more than necessary, for a full ten minutes before desire took over. He had maneuvered so quickly that Tomoyo could only gasp in surprise as he lifted her from her position, and twisted with such agility so he can take her place, then put her in his lap and was attacking her neck with kisses in mere seconds.

Hmm... Tomoyo had thought, to hell with density.

Now Tomoyo bit her lip, drawing her knees close to her chest, and resignedly rested her head on the wall. Thoughts of him were an unwelcome disruption to her solitude. But she wasn't going to let it ebb away; she had waited too long for this escape... to bathe in peace, was it too much to ask? Elbow placed on one knee, Tomoyo brought her wrist to her forehead in gesture of mildly dejection. Damn, why does HE have to invade right NOW?

But she knew exactly why.

It was because half of the pleasurable memories she had in the bathtub were spent with HIM.

Tomoyo now felt cross. With Eriol first, as if it was entirely his fault that he had to be in her head at this particular moment, then with herself. That incident happened more than a year ago -- she knew, precisely, that it was the proverbial "morning after," when they had first slept together.

Ugh. If she hadn't seen certain memories coming, she was definitely going to steer away from this one. She was going to take a detour around the nervous excitement she had encountered when he had disrobed her, the thrill she was met with when he first touched her bare skin with the sensuous feel only a lover could have, the boldness she had felt when he ignited the fire inside her as he explored the rest of her body with his skillful hands... Oh shit.

Now is not the time to be shy, Tomoyo, his teasing echoed in her mind -- Tomoyo just wanted to push him away. And so she was just going to tiptoe about these happy memories -- a stark contrast to the melancholy she felt right now, so much so that recalling them was simply painful -- hoping she wouldn't remember much more.

But damn if she didn't miss him. She did, every now and then; it was barely a month, after all. They were happy for two years, weren't they? Anybody who valued the meaning of a lasting relationship knows that you simply can't throw those two years out the window. Not when every second had counted. Not when every moment had been meant for compilation at the Precious Memories Album. Not when it had been too short and too long because you had so much love in you that you wanted to share. And especially not when it was almost like a wish come true - a kind of relationship that had a one-to-a-million chance of being granted.

For wasn't it that just when Tomoyo was convinced happiness wasn't for her, that she was doomed forever to loneliness with no chance of discovering the meaning of real joy and of finding that somebody to share it with, Hiiragizawa Eriol had come along?

And in a blink, in an erroneous interpretation of the relative lull she felt in their relationship, at being at the wrong place at the wrong time, he's out of her life. She'd left him -- for good.

"Shit," Tomoyo muttered, starting to get out of her bath, her appreciation of her time alone fully gone, "I can't take this anymore."

She was through with tears, wasn't she? She had cried it all at Tira's arms; Tomoyo was grateful for her friend's rock-solid dependability, for being her pillar when she had broken down. Sure, she'd have some left over for an occasional three-minute-cry every other day or so, during that hurtful first week without him, but if anything else, Tomoyo was strong -- and if that wouldn't work, she could always pretend she was. Tomoyo tried to find comfort in her friend's reassuring words, and in Tira's highly optimistic philosophy of "If you were truly meant to be together, you'll find your way back to each other." At least it works, Tira had winked, and Tomoyo had managed a smile, no matter how weak, for her.

Tomoyo began draining the water -- finding little remorse over the gallons it took to satisfy her briefly -- and turned to find her towel and bathrobe. She was just coming out of her bathroom wrapped in the luxury of soft cotton cloth when the phone rang.

She let it ring four times, picking up as she reached the kitchen. "Hello?"

"Tomoyo." The familiar tremble of his voice identified the caller. Eriol cleared his throat, almost nervously, then ventured, "How have you been?"

Was thinking about him earlier some sort of an omen? Then Tomoyo remembered that she had called the Hiiragizawa mansion the day after she moved in to her new home, after an hour wasted on debating whether to give them the number to this pad or not. She had breathed an obvious sigh of relief when Nakuru answered, as if he had just come in through the door, breathless from an afternoon run. Tomoyo didn't ask for a return call from the Master of the House -- and certainly one that came in four days later didn't count. "Just fine, Eriol." Not bothering with polite suffixes, are we, Tomoyo thought wryly, unable to decide if that was a good or bad sign. "The new place is just good -- as spacious as it could get, with a price like this -- and I just got this new bathtub installed today."

"Really," Eriol said, the smile obvious in his tone. "Well, I'm glad to hear you're doing okay."

"How about you?" Tomoyo returned, after a brief, uncomfortable pause, during which he decided if that was the appropriate thing to say and she, weighing the implications of his words, if they were meant to annoy her or strike a chord somewhere, or if he was truly sincere.

"All right, I suppose." There really wasn't much to say, was it? What do you say to a month-old ex-lover anyway?

"Uh-huh." Tomoyo pulled a chair from the dining table and sat down. "So what's new with you?"

"I'm taking a new class. School has become a bore lately --"

Tomoyo couldn't help smirking at that. "School had always been a chore for you, Eriol," she cut in.

"Well, it's becoming more of a bore now than ever," he complained. "So I thought I'd take on a challenge. I thought I'd try my hand at scriptwriting."

"Really," Tomoyo answered. "That's nice. But -- why not journalism? Not to dampen your enthusiasm or anything..."

"Why not Mining?" Eriol retorted. "Why not Theology? Why not Organic Chemistry? Why not a billion other things? I don't know, Tomoyo, somehow I get a good feeling with this scriptwriting class."

"Okay," Tomoyo said. "But that's... a pretty new course, isn't it?"

"Yes, but it's bound to be good, I think. I never quite explored the world of fiction." He laughed shortly. "Besides it's going to be quite a lot of work too, or so this program describes. Just what I need."

"So what field are you going to major in? Movie? TV? Plays?"

"I don't know yet," Eriol admitted, "But that's still a long way to go for me. The basics are all I'm after."

Tomoyo knew Eriol needed no basic training at this kind of thing -- actually, he never needed basic training in *any*thing. But what did she care about any of his decisions? "Well, I wish you the best of luck."

"Thanks."

A thought struck her. "I didn't know our university offered this kind of course."

Another pause. "It doesn't."

"Oh." She didn't like where this was going, but she prompted him for more. "Well--?"

Eriol sighed. "Tomoyo, I'm -- we're -- leaving for England in two days."

Tomoyo tried her best to conceal her shock.

"Oxford offers this fantastic program," Eriol continued, "and I couldn't pass it up."

"Of course," Tomoyo said, painting the picture of a perfectly understanding friend, "of course. You shouldn't."

Silence. She didn't dare tell him what really was going in on her mind, what she was feeling. Was he running away from her? What was he thinking, putting an entire continent between them? As if that would solve anything. And as if they had anything that needed solving, anyway. But Tomoyo kept those to herself.

"That's all I called for, actually," Eriol finally said. "So you won't be surprised to hear about it from other people, on the off chance that you will." He managed a low chuckle.

Thanks for your concern, Tomoyo thought. "I appreciate it."

He cleared his throat again. What, did he swallow a fishbone? "I --" He exhaled loudly. "This might be best for both of us."

So there. The truth was at last out. "Maybe." Mustering all her strength to will her training in manners to come through for her, she managed a "Have a safe trip, Eriol. Wish bon voyage to Spinel and Nakuru-san for me, too."

"Will do." Yet another silence stretched between them. "So long, Tomoyo."

"Bye." A click, then the line went dead.

She returned to the bathroom, cradling the cordless phone in her hands, checking to see if the tub was already empty. It was. She sat on the floor, feeling suddenly like her energy had went down the drain together with the water, then reached over to switch the lever back to non-draining mode.

This might be best for both of us. She knew it was a practiced lie, but agreed with him, nonetheless. Yet the irony was just too great; sometime in the past, she had told him about wanting to be with him for a very long time. Look where it got them now, thousands of miles apart. And she knew it wasn't just physical distance.

Who was to blame? Tomoyo asked for the nth time. Was there anything left to be repaired, to be saved?

Everything was simply lost.

She leaned her temple against the cool ceramic, as a tear slowly slid down her cheek.

Dammit, why DIDN'T we try harder?

Yes, she wasn't through with crying yet.

~ END ~

(Too sad eh? ^_^ This is continued in "One Perfect Kiss." Click on the hyperlink on my name *points up* and look for that fic under my "Stories Authored." ^_^)

NOTES:

1. Please forgive any errors in grammar and spelling and punctuation and all the technical stuff I've missed.

2. Please forgive all errors in inconsistency and in scientific theory. This isn't the best place to learn about density, and please correct me if necessary on my rendition of the concept, but that's the way I understand it. God knows I'm no expert in Physics. >. I think it's not 100% true, but it worked for the fic, so I'm leaving it at that.

3. AND, please also pardon my choice for Eriol's course. -_-;;; Sometimes I think my brain went down the drain too.

4. I got the "Ojousama" address from Meg-san's "Icebreakers," one of my absolute favorites. ^_^v

5. And oh, I made up that bit about Tomoyo's love for soaking in the bathtub. But who wouldn't like it? =P

~ varon
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