The morning after the visit to the Forbidden Library, a heavy silence hung over the Hiiragizawa estate, but it was not an uncomfortable one. Tomoyo was in the music room, her voice humming a soft melody that sounded suspiciously like the golden patterns she had seen in the ancient Codex.
Meanwhile, in the sun-drenched breakfast nook, Eriol was staring intensely at a piece of toast as if it contained the secret to a lost civilization.
However, he wasn't actually thinking about Sumerian dialects or ancient musical scales. He was thinking about the way the blue light of the underground lanterns had reflected in Tomoyo's eyes.
Nakuru Akizuki, known to the magical world as Ruby Moon,satacross from him. She was swinging her legs back and forth, crunching loudly on a bright red apple.
She had been watching Eriol for exactly ten minutes, and she hadn't said a single word—which, for Nakuru, was a very dangerous sign. Usually, she was a whirlwind of noise and energy, but today, she was acting like a cat watching a bird.
"You're doing it again, Eriol," Nakuru said suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet like a bell.
Eriol didn't look up from his toast. "Doing what, Nakuru?"
"The 'Eriol Stare'," she chirped, leaning forward until her face was just inches from his.
"That look where your body is in London, but your brain is floating somewhere in the clouds of Tomoeda... or perhaps, somewhere closer? Perhaps just down the hallway in the music room?"
Eriol finally looked up, his expression perfectly calm. "I am simply tired, Nakuru. Translating the Codex takes a great deal of mental energy. It is only natural to be a bit distracted."
Nakuru let out a dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! I've known you since you were Clow Reed, and I've known you as a child in Japan.
You can fool the professors at the British Museum, and you can even fool Suppi because he's too busy eating sweets to notice, but you can't fool me. I am an entity of emotion and energy. I can feel the 'spark' in the air."
Eriol took a slow sip of his tea, trying to remain indifferent. "There is no spark, Nakuru. Only static electricity from the winter air."
"Is that why your ears turn slightly red whenever Tomoyo-chan enters the room?" Nakuru teased, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
"Is that why you, the great master of magic and logic, suddenly forgot how to use a fork last night when she thanked you for the library trip? It was very human of you, Eriol. Quite adorable, actually."
Eriol felt a sudden, unfamiliar warmth creeping up his neck. It was a physical sensation he couldn't control with a spell or a thought. For the first time in two lifetimes, he felt genuinely flustered. He set his teacup down a little too quickly, the porcelain clinking against the saucer.
"Tomoyo-san is a dear friend and a brilliant collaborator," Eriol said, his voice a fraction higher than usual. "It is only natural that I value her presence in this house. She has a perspective on art and sound that is essential to my research."
Nakuru barked out a laugh, hopping onto the table and sitting cross-legged. "Collaborator? Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Eriol, you're a genius, but you're a complete idiot when it comes to your own heart.
You spent years watching Sakura and Syaoran from the shadows, playing the part of the wise teacher. But now, the roles have changed. You aren't the teacher anymore. You're just a boy in a charcoal coat who likes a girl in a silver dress."
"Nakuru, that is enough," Eriol whispered, casting a quick glance toward the door to make sure Tomoyo wasn't nearby.
"Oh, look! He's blushing! Suppi, come quick! The Ice King is melting!" Nakuru shouted toward the hallway.
Spinel Sun drifted into the room, looking bored. He was wearing the green vest Tomoyo had made for him, which he refused to take off even though he claimed it was 'merely functional.' He looked at Eriol's pink cheeks and then back at Nakuru.
"I told you, Nakuru, his heart rate has been irregular since the Autumn Recital," Suppi said logically. "I assumed it was a lingering effect of the London dampness, but your theory of 'romantic attraction' seems to have more supporting evidence."
Eriol put his head in his hands. "Not you too, Suppi."
"I am a guardian of truth," Suppi replied, reaching for a sugar cube. "And the truth is, you haven't touched your tea in twenty minutes. You've just been stirring it while looking at the door Tomoyo walked through. From a statistical standpoint, your interest in Miss Daidouji has increased by four hundred percent since she moved to London."
Nakuru clapped her hands in delight. "See? Even the grumpy cat sees it! You like her, Eriol. You like her because she's the only one who isn't afraid of your 'genius' brain. She's the only one who looks at you and sees Eriol, not Clow Reed. And that scares you, doesn't it? It scares you that someone actually knows the real you."
Eriol remained silent for a long time. The teasing was loud and playful, but Nakuru's words held a sharp truth that he couldn't ignore. He looked out the window at the falling snow. For centuries, he had lived as a man who held the secrets of the universe.
He had always been the one in control, the one who saw the future. But with Tomoyo, he felt like he was walking through the London fog without a map. He didn't know what she was thinking, and he didn't know how to predict her reactions. And Nakuru was right—it was terrifying. But it was also the most alive he had ever felt.
"She is... special," Eriol finally admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
Nakuru stopped her teasing and looked at him with surprisingly soft eyes. She hopped off the table and patted his shoulder. "Finally! A real emotion! See, being human isn't so bad, is it? It's messy and embarrassing, and your face turns red, but it's better than being a lonely ghost in a big library."
"I don't know what to do, Nakuru," Eriol confessed, looking at his ink-stained hands. "I am used to having a plan. I am used to knowing the outcome. But with these feelings... there is no formula. I don't want to ruin the friendship we have. She has worked so hard to find her own path here. I don't want to be another shadow in her life."
"Then don't be a shadow," Nakuru said firmly. "Be the light that helps her see the path. You don't need a plan, Eriol. You just need to be honest. But for now," she added, her mischievous eyes returning, "you should probably stop staring at her door. It's starting to get creepy."
Just then, the door opened, and Tomoyo walked in, wearing a soft lavender sweater. She was holding a notebook and looked glowing with fresh inspiration.
"Eriol-kun? Nakuru-san? Is everything alright?" she asked, noticing the strange tension in the room. "I heard Nakuru-san shouting something about melting?"
Eriol stood up so fast he nearly knocked over his chair. "Everything is perfectly fine, Tomoyo-san! We were just... discussing the thermal properties of the radiator. Yes. The heating system is very interesting."
Tomoyo blinked, looking at Eriol's bright red ears. "The radiator? Oh, I see. Well, I wanted to ask you about a translation in the third chapter of the Codex. I think I found a recurring rhythm that matches a heartbeat."
"Heartbeat! How appropriate!" Nakuru chirped, winking at Eriol.
Eriol cleared his throat, trying to regain his dignity. "Yes, of course. Let us go to the library and examine it. Right now. Immediately."
As they walked out of the room, Nakuru leaned back against the counter, an apple in her hand and a satisfied smirk on her face. She watched them leave—the tall, brilliant boy who was finally learning how to feel, and the beautiful, talented girl who was teaching him without even trying.
"Good job, Ruby," she whispered to herself. "Who knew that the greatest magic in London wouldn't come from a book, but from a simple blush?"
Suppi sighed, crunching on his dark chocolate. "I hope they finish the translation soon. All this 'romance' is making the tea taste too sweet."
But as the winter sun shone through the window, the Hiiragizawa house felt warmer than any heater could ever make it. The master of magic was finally meeting his match, and for the first time in history, he was perfectly happy to lose the battle.