Tomoyo sat completely still in her room. The night before, her mother came home and told her all the stories about her trip. Tomoyo managed to make it through them without her mother noticing her extra-pale complexion, and nervous face. After, she asked her mother whether Naoko could visit the following day, which was now today, and possibly stay the night. Her mother had said yes. It was Naoko worrying Tomoyo. The day before, she found out about Tomoyo's secret love for Sakura, and now wanted to talk alone to her. Naoko was coming up to Tomoyo's room. Naoko slowly opened the door, entered, and closed the door. She was dressed in a simple blue dress, and held a small overnight bag. She stared at Tomoyo, who was across the room, on her bed, dressed in what appeared to be a little more than a robe, and a little less than a dress. Tomoyo was doing all she could from crying out, convinced that Naoko was afraid of her now, afraid of her because of her 'unnatural' love. Naoko crossed the room, and sat down beside Tomoyo. Each girl was uncomfortable. Naoko took a breath. "You really love Sakura?" She tried to make it sound more like a statement and less like a question. "Yes." Replied Tomoyo, tears beginning to run down her face. "I...I always thought so. You two are practically inseparable." Naoko made a weak smile. "You're the first person that's noticed, and the first I've told." Tomoyo could feel her emotions beginning to pour out uncontrollably. "I'm....I'm afraid, afraid of what Sakura will say, what my friends will say, what my mom will say...." She sobbed. "but I love her so much." Naoko took Tomoyo's hand, and put it against her shoulder. "It's okay Tomoyo.....you told me, and I still like you....and I'm sure Sakura loves you too..... Tomoyo jumped up. "It's not the same!" she screamed. Immediately, she fell back down, waiting for someone to come and check on them. No one came. "I know how you feel," Naoko began, squeezing Tomoyo's hand. "It hurts, but you're afraid it'll hurt more it you tell someone," Tomoyo looked at Naoko, without emotion. "I....I think I love Rika." Tomoyo sat ever quiet. "Have you ever thought what it would be like to tell them?" Naoko asked. "That's why I keep it a secret." Tomoyo replied softly. "But have you ever known they couldn't ever love you....the way you want them to?" Tomoyo looked silently at Naoko, waiting for her to continue. "I...I saw them yesterday....Rika and Mr. Terada....they said 'I love you'....then they kissed." It was Naoko's turn to cry. Tomoyo was astonished. There was someone else like her, so close. "Naoko," Tomoyo started to think, " I just had an odd thought. In a way, you're lucky." Naoko's eyes shot towards Naoko. "You know you can't be with her, and you'll be able to forger her....I hate every moment I keep my secret, and yet dread the day it will come out." Tomoyo saw new tears coming from Naoko's eyes. "But I guess that's not true, or you wouldn't be crying so." Naoko wiped her eyes. "It's okay...I'm just....it's just nice to know I have someone to talk to," Naoko laughed quietly, " and crying is always nice, since you always feel better afterwards." Tomoyo laughed also, "And, Naoko, you saw Rika kiss Terada.....well,.....Shaolan is coming back." Her face fell. Naoko sat, realizing all the times Shaolan was with Sakura, the jokes they all made about them being a couple, how Tomoyo was right beside Sakura the entire time. She hugged Tomoyo. "I'm so sorry...." She breathed. "It's okay." Tomoyo replied, then she found herself yawning. "I'm sorry, Naoko, but I'm really tired." Tomoyo looked at Naoko, and by the look of her face, she knew she would also fall asleep soon. "Are you staying the night?" "Yeah, sure, I brought a change of clothes for tomorrow...." She was silent for a bit. "Tomoyo," she began, but then quit. "Yes?" Tomoyo inquired. "I...I," Naoko swallowed, "could...could I....sleep with you. I mean, just...just in the same bed....just together." She was staring at the floor. "Sure...." Tomoyo breathed slowly. They each changed into their night gowns. They each fell asleep in eachother's arms. They each had a sound, dreamless sleep. Naoko's eyes opened, and she awoke facing Tomoyo, who was still sound asleep. Slowly untangling herself, she rose and looked down at her friend, thinking about the night. It had been so beautiful, wonderful to feel the other girl next to her, but neither of them wanted this. They each wanted someone else. She strode over to her overnight bag, and opened it. She would shower shortly, but would prepare her clothes first. Naoko realized that she had not brought another pair of panties. She sighed. She could easily reuse the ones she had on, but they had an uncomfortable wet-stickiness in them. She knew why, she wasn't dumb in sexual things. Not only had she read information on the net and in books, about girls and boys, about heterosexuals and homosexuals, she read some more erotic things, not to mention looked at. Walking to Tomoyo's dresser, she intended to borrow a pair. Opening the top drawer, she saw several tops and skirts; the second held more of these, some socks, and some more odds and ends; it was the bottom drawer which held Tomoyo's unmentionables. Taking out a generic pair of white panties, she noticed two pieces of thin cardboard in the corner of the drawer. They were camouflaged with the wood's colour, and Naoko extracted them, feeling their unusual weight. Opening them, she saw the most frightening thing of her life. Within the fine cardboard, were two razor blades. Gleaming, they were no more wider than a hair. They were only two millimetres high, but four millimetres long. Their weight now burned in the pal of her hand, their reason for being immobilizing her. Naoko heard Tomoyo moan. She opened her hand and closed the drawer with a slight bang. She grabbed her clothes, and ran into the adjoining bathroom, locking the door. She looked in the mirror, and realized two things: She hadn't grabbed a new pair of panties, and knew she could never bring herself to ask for a pair knowing what laid in that drawer. And that in her clenched fist, was one of the razor blades, which, per the request of the low voice in the deepest pit of her body, she had kept.
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