Card Captor Sakura Fan Fiction ❯ Picnic ❯ Picnic ( One-Shot )

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Lunch in the sun, love in the rain, kisses beneath the stars... yes, picnics are wonderful things. [Fujitaka/Nadeshiko, Touya/Yukito, implied Syaoran/Sakura]

Anime/Manga: Card Captor Sakura Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 07.29.2005 | Pages: 7 | Words: 8.3K | Visits: 915 | Status: Completed

“Kinomoto-sensei…”

“What is it?”

“Are you… busy this weekend?”

“No… no, I don't believe so. Why?”

“I was wondering… if you'd like to go on a picnic with me.”

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“Yukito-san!”

“Hello, Sakura.”

“Are you and onii-chan busy this Saturday?”

“Ahhh… I don't know. I'm not doing anything, but you know your brother. Always working, always busy. But if you want him for something, I'm sure he'll find a way to be free. Why?”

“Tomoyo, Syaoran, and I are having a picnic, and I wanted you and onii-chan to come.”

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The dark-haired girl hurried down the sidewalk, swinging the picnic basket in her hand recklessly. She was excited—she could feel her heart fluttering in her breast, could feel the tingling at the tips of her fingers and toes, could feel the butterflies clamoring in her stomach. This picnic… this picnic was important.

She recognized his house easily, even though he'd only given her the address. She didn't even need to look at the numbers along the curb. She'd seen the house in her dreams, the cream-colored walls, the neat garden lined with nadeshiko flowers, the lone cherry tree in the front yard. The brick walkway that led straight from the sidewalk to the house, with just two steps leading to the front door.

His house.

Her house.

But even though she knew about the two steps she tripped over one anyway, flying across the front porch and spilling the contents of her basket over the neatly laid bricks. She half-gasped, then started laughing. The light, tinkling sound brought footsteps to the door, and with a gentle click it opened.

“What happ—Nadeshiko-san?” he asked, shocked to see her sprawled across his doorstep, his porch littered with the remains of what would have been lunch.

“Ohaiyo, Kinomoto-sensei,” she greeted, smiling up at him.

His shock faded and his face softened—accidents were common with Nadeshiko, he should have expected it. Shaking his head slightly, he knelt down beside her and pushed her skirt aside. “Are you hurt?” he asked perfunctorily, already examining her shins for scratches.

“Iie,” she replied, but made no move to stop him. After allowing him to finish checking for scrapes, she gestured to the food on his once immaculate porch. “I should clean this up…”

“Never mind,” he murmured, dismissing her offer. He stood, and held a hand out to her. “Come inside. The birds can have the food.”

She reached up, placing a pale hand in his larger one. “But what are we going to do instead?”

“Instead of what?” he asked, eyes genuinely puzzled.

“Instead of the picnic.”

He laughed, and she reveled in the sound. He tugged her arm gently, and she stood up beside him, using her free hand to brush off her skirt and legs. “I never said we weren't going on our picnic. Come inside, I have plenty of food for lunch. Bring your basket so we can repack it.”

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“Are you sure, To-ya?”

“Positive.”

“But you don't like to go out,” the white-haired boy pointed out, a little half-pout struggling to hide itself.

The taller, dark-haired boy leaned over and kissed the other gently, smiling. “But I said I would. So then why are you pouting?” he asked, ruffling the white hair affectionately after breaking the kiss.

His big eyes widened even more, then he smiled happily. “So you'd do that,” he replied impishly, even though he'd only just realized he was pouting. “Touya—“ the dark haired boy knew it was serious, despite the light tone--Yukito so rarely used his full name, “—are you sure you want to go?”

Touya sighed, shaking his head slightly. “If I really didn't want to go, you'd know. First, Sakura asked me, and you know I can't say no to her.” Yukito smiled; Touya had such a soft spot for his little sister. Even if she was with…

“Even if she invited the brat along,” Touya snarled, glaring. Yukito smiled and tugged at Touya's hand, pulling him down onto the couch beside him. Touya was just jealous—he'd get over it in a few moments.

“And second,” Touya continued, apparently having already gotten over the thought of Syaoran with Sakura, “you want to go, and you know I can't say no to you either.”

Yukito's large gold eyes widened, and he stared innocently at his friend. “Don't give me that look,” Touya admonished gently, leaning in to kiss Yukito again. “I know you're not that naïve. Especially with your other half in there.” Touya gazed deep into Yukito's eyes to make his point known to both Yukito and Yue.

“So tomorrow,” Touya repeated to himself, standing and stretching.

Yukito shook his head and stood up quickly beside the taller boy, nodding in agreement. “Yes, tomorrow.”

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They walked from his house down to the river, where it was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday afternoon. She laid out a blanket in the shade of a large tree as he carefully sorted through their picnic basket. He laid the food out in the center of the blanket and sat down across from her as she began eating delicately.

“Oishii!” she exclaimed a few minutes later around a mouthful of the last musubi. Her eyes sparkled with admiration as she finished their picnic lunch.

He flushed, and waved off her compliment. “It's nothing,” he insisted. “It's just musubi.”

“Ah, but it's so good!” she cried. Suddenly thoughtful, she added, “Sonomi-chan would say that anything is good compared to my cooking.” Fujitaka, who'd thankfully only been exposed to Nadeshiko's cooking once, tactfully said nothing. “But still…” Nadeshiko continued, looking away from Fujitaka, “I think it's good just because you made it.”

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“Konnichiwa,” Tomoyo greeted them in her usual soft voice, holding out onigiri. “Would you like some?”

“Arigatou, Tomoyo-chan,” Yukito thanked her as he took one each for him and Touya. He handed Touya one while biting down hungrily on his own. Touya took a bite and chewed slowly, thoughtfully.

“You must have made this, Tomoyo. Sakura can't cook like this.” Yukito could practically see the steam coming out of Sakura's ears; the thought made him giggle, then laugh out loud.

“Actually,” Tomoyo replied, preventing a possible explosion from Sakura, “Li-kun made them.” Syaoran blushed furiously and stammered out some self-effacing explanation for his exceptional cooking.

Sakura gobbled down her food faster than her older brother thought possible. After a mumbled “Gochisousama” she grabbed Syaoran's hand and jerked him to his feet. The Chinese boy looked pleadingly at Tomoyo, but Tomoyo just smiled and waved, nodding pleasantly when Sakura called something over her shoulder that Touya didn't catch.

“I think Sakura wanted us to go down to the river,” Tomoyo murmured suggestively after a few minutes, looking towards Touya and Yukito. “She said there was something she wanted to do…”

“Well she's down there by herself with the brat. I'd better go check on her…” Touya stood and strolled down towards the riverbank, wondering what Sakura had in mind. The river had been steadily running lower and lower as the years passed, and the short rainy season this year meant that the river was probably nothing more than a trickling creek. He heard Yukito's quick footsteps in the dry grass as he ran to catch up.

“Whoa,” Touya gasped appreciatively. Indeed, the river had been hardly anything—but he'd forgotten about Sakura's magic.

“Onii-chan! Yukito-san!” Sakura called, jumping up to wave them over. “Come on! The water's perfect!”

Yukito grinned up at Touya and reached for his hand, pulling him towards the others. Touya smiled at the back of Yukito's head and allowed himself to be dragged to where Sakura was laughing and splashing in the clear blue water. They paused together a few feet away from the riverbank to watch. Sakura was standing ankle-deep in water in the center of the stream, dancing lightly in circles. Her feet moved quickly, with certainty, gracefully, in a dance that only she knew the pattern for. Water arched up around her legs, twining and twisting around her, rippling away from her at every step. Touya watched as long tendrils of water rose from the shimmering surface, rising upwards towards Sakura's face, stretching out to take the shape of fingers, hands, and arms. From the sparkling water emerged a head, long hair, a torso—soon, a female figure made of water swayed in rhythm with Sakura, causing the water of the stream to shudder and rise with every twist and turn.

“It's Watery,” Tomoyo supplied, coming up behind them. “One of the Sakura Cards,” she continued, smiling blissfully at Sakura splashing around with the water sprite.

“Isn't anybody going to come in?” Sakura demanded from the middle of the stream, where the water now reached her elbows. “It isn't any fun without anyone else,” she pouted slightly, bringing a smile to Touya's face.

“Ah, just a minute,” Yukito called. He turned to Touya, looking up at him with those bright eyes smiling. “Are you coming?” he asked as he pulled off his shirt and pants, revealing the swimming trunks he'd been wearing beneath. Without waiting for an answer and a little wave and smile, Yukito was off, wading into the stream to join Sakura. Laughing, she cupped her hands and splashed the white-haired boy as he neared her. Touya watched affectionately as Yukito's eyes widened in surprise, water dripping down his face. Then with his ever-present smile, Yukito took the palms of his hands to the water and shoved a wave of cold water at the younger girl.

A gentle laugh to his right brought Touya back to the others. Tomoyo was, not surprisingly, holding her video camera to her eye, giggling as she watched her best friend through a glass lens. Touya strode over in two quick steps and lifted the camera from her hands. Surprised, the dark haired girl looked up at him. He held the camera at his side, knowing that she wouldn't try to take it back. If he'd tried the same thing with Sakura, she would've jumped all over him to retrieve it.

“Touya-san?” she asked softly, confusion evident in her sweet voice.

“Go on,” he scolded, gesturing to the water.

“But I'd rather catch Sakura on tape!”

Touya gave a heavy sigh and shook his head in mock disappointment. “What, and miss out on the fun?” he asked pointedly.

“Ah…” Tomoyo flushed and looked away. After a few moments she looked back at Touya, eyes sparkling. She flashed him a smile, then turned towards the girl splashing around in the water. “Sakura-chan! Wait for me! I'll be there in a minute!” And with that, Tomoyo hurried off to change out of her white sundress.

Ah, and now the brat, Touya thought, though without his customary malice. He'd gotten strangely used to having the Chinese boy around, and had even begun to accept his presence in Sakura's life. Not that he wouldn't have at some point anyway; it just felt odd to not be constantly picking a fight with Syaoran.

“So what's your excuse?” he asked, sitting down lazily beside the other boy.

Before Syaoran turned to answer, Sakura's bright voice was heard shouting from the river: “Go, Watery!” Knowing his sister well, not even needing his lost sixth sense, Touya rolled to the side, leaving a confused Syaoran still sitting on the grass. A moment later, a deluge of water washed over the spot where Touya had just been sitting—completely drenching the Chinese boy who'd been left behind. When Watery finally retreated, Syaoran was sitting in a puddle of water, sputtering as he tried to clear the water from his mouth.

“Ah!” Sakura cried, running over. “Syaoran! I'm so sorry! I was trying to get my onii-chan…”

“Eh… ahh… mmm…” Syaoran stuttered, looking thoroughly flustered. Touya almost felt sorry for him—though he wasn't sorry he'd evaded the power of Sakura's card.

“But now that you're wet,” Sakura continued, brightening visibly. “You can come and join us!” She smiled her winning, “isn't everything better now?” smile and held out her hand for Syaoran to take. Flushing, he took the proffered hand and stood. Sakura practically dragged him into the water, laughing and splashing the whole way.

Now he was the only one left dry and on land. Grinning, he slipped into the water of his own volition, unnoticed by the laughing, already-wet foursome. When the water became deep enough, he leaned forward and glided through the water, lean body completely submerged. He reached the middle of the river, reached out, and…

Sakura's scream echoed loudly as Touya pulled her under the water. Tomoyo and Yukito gasped, while Syaoran instinctively reached for Sakura's hand. Touya was too fast though, and had pulled his younger sister out of everyone's grasp.

“Onii-chan!” she yelled as she broke the surface, gasping for air. He came up alongside her, smirking. With a cry she lunged for him and began to wrestle with him, as if she were still in elementary school and still convinced she could one day beat him. As they grappled in the water Yukito snuck up behind Touya and mercilessly began tickling him.

“Yuki!” Touya cried out, turning on the white-haired boy. “Traitor!” he managed between unintended laughter. He released his sister and turned on his friend, knowing exactly where he was ticklish. They fell into the water, laughing, panting for air, while the others watched in amusement.

Sakura had always had a soft spot for Yukito, so it shouldn't have surprised Touya when he heard her cry, “Watery!” and found himself lifted into the air, wrapped in Watery's chilly, slippery strong grasp. “That's not fair!” he called down to her. Just as suddenly as Watery had picked him up she dropped him down, splashing him unceremoniously into the river beside Yukito. He sat up, spitting water, turning to Yukito. With a sly, verging-on-seductive grin he crooked a finger at the white-haired boy. Yukito flushed and crawled over; Touya leaned over and whispered in his ear. They smiled at each other conspiratorially, then lunged simultaneously for Sakura.

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“It's raining rather hard,” he murmured, adjusting his grip on the picnic basket so that he could drape his jacket over his and Nadeshiko's heads. Ever since it had started raining she had been oddly quiet, gazing down at the slick ground before her or the stormy heavens above. Even when he'd removed his jacket and used it to shelter her, she'd only briefly murmured her thanks.

As they reached the center of the bridge she suddenly stopped, eyes locked on the barely visible moon. Dark clouds drifted over it lazily, obscuring its normally bright light. Thin sheets of rain continued to come down, drenching her completely as she stepped outside the reach of his jacket. He hurried back towards her and dropped the basket at his feet, draping his wet jacket over them again. She didn't acknowledge his gesture, but continued to gaze at the pale orb in the sky.

“What's wrong?” he asked finally, moving closer to her so that she wouldn't be cold.

“They won't meet tonight,” she murmured softly, leaning sadly against the railing of the bridge. He leaned out with her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Shokujo and Kengyu… Tonight is the seventh day of the seventh month, the night they are supposed to cross the river of stars to meet. But it's raining… which means that Shokujo-hime is crying.”

Oh yes… tonight was the beginning of the Tanabata festival. Smiling gently, he looked out at the dark sky with Nadeshiko. “Maybe we should pray for the rain to stop,” he suggested. “That will mean that the magpies have arrived to build the bridge for them, right?”

She nodded, and looked away from him. “It must be sad… when people that love each other are separated.” Not knowing how to respond, he remained silent, looking down at his hands resting on top of the bridge, fingers interlaced. He looked beyond them onto the road below, watching as cars drove by, their lights blinking and flashing and wavering slightly. Different colors—red, yellow, orange, white. They wove in and out and around each other, twisting in an intricate celestial dance only they knew. A constant stream of flickering lights—a constant stream of flickering stars.

He looked up at the sky. The rain had not abated, and clouds still covered the Milky Way. So the river of stars below would have to suffice for now.

“Kinomoto-sensei…” Nadeshiko said softly. Then, with a little more courage, she turned to look at him. “Fujitaka-san,” she said more firmly. “I know why you've been avoiding me.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her head. “No, Okada-sensei made it clear to me yesterday after class. I'm a student, you're a teacher… I'm rich, and you're poor. I know… I know we shouldn't, and that there are so many things at stake for us… but don't you think…” she trailed off faintly. The boldness of naiveté and innocence had faded, and she was left standing on a concrete bridge overlooking a busy thoroughfare, drenched by the steady rain, facing the man she had always known she loved.

His breath was caught in his throat. He didn't know what to say, what to do, how to make her understand. Gently, he reached out towards her… her hand met his midway, her fingers wrapping gently around his own. Slowly, surely, strongly, she pushed his hand back towards him.

“But don't you think,” she continued softly, almost breathlessly, “that this is more important?” She laid his hand over his heart, and pressed hers over it.

There was a moment—just a moment—when they stood, inches apart, eyes open in wonder and hope and joy and understanding. He couldn't tell if the wetness in her eyes was from tears or the rain… She had ceased to notice the rain, except that it traced dark lines over his face, coursing gently from his temple to his jaw.

And when the moment had passed, when the ethereal spell had been broken, she leaned in and kissed him. Surprised at first, he was slow to embrace her, slow to wrap his arms around her shoulders, slow to realize that in order to do that he had to let go of the jacket that offered their only protection against the rain. Time slowed just enough for it to seem as though this new moment lasted forever, stretching a ray of light into the darkness of infinity.

Silently she leaned her head against his chest, eyes closed, cheeks streaked with wetness—both tears and raindrops. She didn't know all the repercussions of what they had just done, though she was smart enough to guess, but she knew that things were different now. Doors had not closed behind her, but hundreds, thousands, even millions of doors had opened. For now she understood her heart, understood what it was that men and women had sought for all eternity, understood that what she had now did not come freely to anyone and did not come at all for some. And for now, she would be content in that knowledge. She had a lifetime stretching before her, a lifetime that she now controlled and owned and loved.

She raised her head to look into his eyes once more. The rain had stopped. She smiled at him, and looked out towards the clearing sky. That was when she saw it—the spark flying across the sky in a graceful, perfect arc, leaving a trail of shining stardust in its wake.

“A shooting star,” she murmured into his shirt. “We should make a wish.”

Things that he could have wished for, things that would have made things easier for them, things that would have made their love more acceptable flashed through his mind briefly. But they vanished almost instantly as he gazed into her bright eyes.

“What for?” he whispered back, leaning in slightly. “I have everything I could ever want.”

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They lazed in the sun for a while afterward, drying themselves, watching the sun turn the sky delicious shades of pink, orange, and purple. When the sun had finally set and the first night stars were shining clear in the sky, Touya reluctantly stood and gestured to Yukito.

“We'd better get going,” he said, stretching reaching to help the white-haired boy up. Yukito gladly reached out to Touya and grasped his fingers. Sakura, Syaoran, and Tomoyo also stood, brushing dry grass from their clothes and gathering the picnic remnants.

The three led the way back, leaving Touya and Yukito trailing along behind. When they got to the bridge they stopped to say their farewells.

“Anou… onii-chan, Yukito-san… Would you like to come with us to the Tanabata festival?” Sakura asked, cocking her head to one side. Syaoran characteristically said nothing and looked away. Tomoyo smiled prettily at them, but remained silent as well. Touya remembered that Tomoyo “saw” things better than anyone else; he had hoped that she would say something.

“Ahh… if you want…” Yukito began uncertainly, glancing anxiously at Touya.

“Sakura-chan, maybe it would be better if we let them on their way. It's been a long day, and I'm sure that Touya has things to catch up on. Maybe we'll see you there…?” But Tomoyo was smiling at Touya, knowing full well that he had no intention of being at the festival. So she did see things. Touya smiled to himself.

“Hoe?” Sakura looked puzzled, eyes darting between Tomoyo and her brother.

“Come on,” Syaoran suddenly spoke up, grabbing Sakura's wrist and beginning to drag her across the bridge. Touya could've sworn the brat was blushing. Sakura protested loudly, arms flailing, but she managed to twist around and wave good-bye to Touya and Yukito. Tomoyo smiled at the two of them and followed the unruly pair at a slight distance, never once looking back.

“Do you want to go home?” Touya asked Yukito, as if the past two minutes had never occurred. Yukito shook his head and moved to stand at the railing of the bridge. Stars twinkled brightly above them, shimmering in the velvet night. He reached out dreamily towards them, trying to catch them between his fingers, grasping their sparkling colors in the palm of his hand.

“To-ya?” Yukito's voice held a questioning note, as if reassuring himself that Touya was still there.

“Mmmm?” Touya murmured in response. He went over to Yukito and stood beside him, arms crossed on top of the steel railing. He looked down as Yukito looked up, listening to the whistling rush of cars streaming along below him on the street. Their red, white, and orange lights flickered and flashed in a maddening sequence that Touya could not follow. With a soft sigh he looked over at the white-haired boy.

“The sky is clear tonight,” Yukito observed, smiling at the twinkling stars. He pointed upwards for Touya to see that there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

“So?” Touya asked. He knew Yukito wanted to tell him, so he humored him. His mother had told him the Tanabata matsuri story when he was little.

“It means that Shokujo-hime and Kengyu-sama were able to meet tonight. So all is well in the heavens, and everyone is happy.” Yukito clapped happily, applauding the world's good fortune that night.

“Nothing ever turns out like in the stories, Yuki,” Touya murmured cynically, but with little conviction. After all, didn't he and Sakura have happy endings?

“Do you ever wonder, To-ya, who's stood here before us like this?” Yukito asked suddenly, eyes wide and serious, hands still on the railing.

Touya shrugged. “I suppose. I used to, at least, when I would see spirits wandering around. I'd wonder why they were there, what kept them from going on. Now I don't worry so much.” The two were comfortable enough with the subject that it no longer brought guilt to Yukito's conscience or pain to Touya. It was simply a fact of life, and they'd both moved on.

“I wonder… do you think that a couple stood here in the rain? And looked for the stars, but couldn't see them? I wonder when the last time it rained on the Tanabata festival night…” Yukito continued his musings, gazing up at the starry heavens. Touya watched him for a few moments, but his attention was drawn away by something out of the corner of his eye. Light, coming from behind them. Pale, ghostly, silvery light that shimmered and quavered with every breath. Touya turned, curious, half-dreading what he would see.

He hadn't seen them since he gave Yue his magic. And even then, he'd only seen ghosts—real spirits, people that were really and truly dead. But these spirits… weren't spirits, necessarily. And one of them certainly wasn't a ghost. Yukito continued to ramble on, oblivious to Touya's distraction. Touya, meanwhile, watched the scene play out behind them.

It was raining. He could see the soaked clothing, the dripping hair, the gentle mist surrounding the two figures. They were standing with their backs to him, leaning over the railing like he and Yukito had been. They seemed to be talking, gazing up at what Touya presumed were cloudy skies. Suddenly, the girl turned to the man and looked anxiously into his eyes. Then, after a moment's hesitation—Touya couldn't tell if she'd said something or not—she leaned in and kissed him.

Kinomoto Fujitaka paused, then wrapped his arms around Amamiya Nadeshiko and kissed her back.

Touya's mother broke the kiss first, leaning into his father with her eyes closed. He stroked her long, dark hair gently, utterly astounded by what had just taken place. Nadeshiko turned her head away from Touya, so that she was looking out over the bridge instead. Suddenly, she straightened, pointing with one hand at the sky. Touya looked where she was pointing, and saw that the rain had stopped and he could see some of the sky they stood under. A bright streak of light crossed the darkness, a swift silvery trail blazing across infinity. Nadeshiko turned back to Fujitaka excitedly…

Touya never knew what his mother wished for that night. Yukito suddenly tugged on his sleeve and exclaimed, “To-ya, To-ya! A shooting star!” Touya turned just in time to see it plunge below the horizon. “We have to make a wish!” Yukito cried, clinging to Touya's arm. Touya half-turned his head to see behind him. The vision of his mother and father were gone, replaced by the dull white lamplight illuminating the bridge.

Smiling slightly to himself, Touya turned back and looked down at his white-haired friend. Yukito's large eyes stared back at him, innocently reminding Touya of the shooting star. Then, smiling so that Yukito could see him, Touya leaned down and kissed him. They stood there for moments, seconds, minute, hours, infinity, frozen in time with their lips moving gently. The stars shone and sparkled above, twinkling in the velvety darkness. Below them cars roared silently as they hurried by, headlights and taillights flickering wildly. All around them was a symphony of shining, shimmering points of light, a cacophony of colors and intensities.

“To-ya?” Yukito asked softly as they pulled away from each other. “You still need to make a wish.”

“Yuki,” Touya said with a small smile. He cupped Yukito's chin with one hand, and stared down into his bright eyes. “If I were to make a wish…” he began. “Do you know what I would wish for?”

Yukito blinked at him with innocent eyes. “Tell me.”

“I would wish… for this moment to last forever. I would wish that the sky stayed like that for all eternity, shining with the light of a thousand stars from above, lit by the millions of lamplights below. I would wish that the stars would never die and the cars would never stop moving and that the lamplights would never burn out. I would wish that the darkness would never recede and that the moon would always be almost full. I would wish that I never forget this—standing here like this, looking into your eyes, the warmth of your body and the scent of your skin.”

I would wish… for a love and a happiness as pure as my mother and father's. I would wish for perfection.

He dropped his hand and casually walked around Yukito until they were standing shoulder to shoulder. As expected, Yukito looked up and over his shoulder at the taller boy.

“But what do I need to wish for?” Touya continued flippantly, intentionally looking away from Yukito. “I already have everything I want.” And with that he continued his leisurely stroll along the bridge, never once looking back. Yukito stood stunned for a moment, then with a smile and little cry of happiness, he spun around and hurried after Touya. When he caught up, he wrapped his arms around Touya's waist and settled his head against his shoulder, in an awkward-looking but oddly comfortable position. Touya draped his arm over Yukito's shoulders, and together they wandered away, shrouded in the fluorescent light of streetlamps.

If either of them had looked back at the deserted bridge, they might have seen the woman perched on the railing they had just been leaning on, her dark curls waving in the slight breeze, feet swinging lightly over the walkway. She watched them go, smiling, and as they dipped out of sight she slid off the railing and stood in a pool of lamp and moon and star light. With a slight toss of her head, she turned and began walking the opposite direction on the bridge. As she neared the other end she slowly faded from view, translucent figure merging with the darkness. Her light, lilting laugh echoed faintly for a moment, then was lost in the hustle and bustle of the cars on the thoroughfare.