Current mood:	tired
Entry tags:	30_kisses, card captor sakura, fujitaka/nadeshiko

Fic: Watching and Waiting
Title: Watching and Waiting
Author: fairymage
Rating: G
Community: 30_kisses
Prompt: #19--red
Fandom: Card Captor Sakura
Pairing: Fujitaka/Nadeshiko

omg It's been so long... And you know with any luck that tonight there will be T/Y fic, so stick around for that.



Surely, she was certain, her family would stay at the beach past the sunset. Sunsets at the beach were not nearly as beautiful as sunrises, since at sunrise the sun rose over the water, but it would still be light and warm, and it would still be very pretty. She didn’t want to disturb the perfect afternoon. He had shown no interest or concern with leaving soon, and rushing him would only ruin the atmosphere.

As it was he was lying on his side, propped on one elbow, reading a book. Every so often he’d stir in order to push his glasses back into place, or readjust his elbow or legs. She could tell he wasn’t distracted, he just needed to be comfortable. He’d offered, several times, to stop and join her in some other activity, but she’d adamantly refused to let him do that.

Instead, she sat at the edge of the blanket, watching him with one eye and watching the lake with the other. It was still a pretty sight, one she hated to miss, but even though she sensed this wouldn’t be the last time she’d get to watch him read, she wouldn’t pass up that opportunity either.

Eventually, she stood and began to wander away. She heard him move as she walked away, pages of his book rustling gently. He was probably watching. But he soon went back to his book, and she knelt down to run her fingers through a patch of tiny flowers no bigger than her fingernails. White and daisy-like, she fingered them gently without pulling any out.

She wandered down to the lakeshore, watching the way the late afternoon sun glinted off the warped glass surface of the lake, the way the water gently kissed the sandy shoreline. If she tilted her head just right, she could see the rocks at the bottom. Gold, gray, black, brown, aquamarine, royal blue… the colors shifted and danced against the water in a pattern she couldn’t possibly hope to follow. She sat down on the sandy shore, digging her heels and hands into the white sand.

Sonomi knew how to skip rocks. She would always stand on the shore near the house and skip rocks perfectly and expertly across the rippling water. She’d once tried to teach Nadeshiko; the lesson had ended with two very wet girls trudging back to the house to change. She wondered vaguely if they would ever be able to stand on the lakeshore like that again.

“The sun’s going to set soon,” he remarked, coming up behind her. His footsteps crunched slightly as he moved from grass to sand.

She hummed in agreement. “Is it all right if we stay? It will be very pretty,” she promised.

He smiled. “Of course. Shall I move the things down here?” They’d packed the food away, most of it back into his old car, after lunch, but the blanket at least remained. Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and went back.

She turned back to the water, just in time to see the colors change from afternoon to evening. Sonomi told her that there wasn’t a “moment” when that happened, that you just happened to turn around and notice, that’s all. But Nadeshiko was certain there was a moment when the sun hit just the right spot on the horizon such that all the colors changed from yellow-gold to red-gold. A pity he’d missed it this time.

But there would be other times.

She stood as she heard him return, and wordlessly they spread the blanket together over the place where she’d bee sitting. They both sat down on it; he lay down again and opened his book, and she sat back on her hands.

“You’re going to miss the sunset,” she teased, smiling wistfully.

“I’m trusting you to alert me as to when it’s beginning,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. Not a full smile, not quite a smirk either.

“I’ll do my best,” she promised. “You already missed the change to evening.”

“Well, you’re more comfortable now, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “Then I can’t complain.”

“It’s all so pretty… the water isn’t blue anymore. I mean, of course it’s still blue, but you can’t tell, because the sun is a different color.” She liked the fact that he didn’t tell her she was wrong or otherwise disagree.

“Well, so long as I don’t miss the sunset, I don’t think I shall mind much,” he repeated, and went back to his book.

She liked the fact that even though he was reading, she didn’t feel miffed or slighted. After all, it was such a lovely setting. Why not read? It seemed like the perfect kind of place, the perfect time. Picturesque, that was the word for it. So she watched him read, and he either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. Either way, she was quite pleased.

She liked the way his long fingers held the pages of the book, so gently but so firmly. They didn’t toy idly with the corners or rub distractedly against the spine. He was perfectly engrossed with the words—not too little, but not too much either. He didn’t fidget—he moved every so often, uncrossing his legs, recrossing them, shifting the elbow supporting him, readjusting his glasses or smoothing his hair, but every movement seemed deliberate.

She barely noticed how much time passed, how long she spent staring out at the lake and the moving reflections on it. Children slowly stopped playing and went inside. Dogs stopped barking. The smell of cooking food was faint, but there if she concentrated on it. The birds were quieting. Soon, it would just be the two of them and the insects.

“I thought you were going to tell me when the sunset was starting,” he said, sitting down beside her. She hadn’t even noticed him standing.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “but you seem to have known when it was going to start anyway.”

“No, I’ve just been checking every few minutes.”