The emotional breakthrough between Tomoyo and Eriol had brought a soft, golden peace to the Hiiragizawa estate, but the world outside continued to move with its own chaotic energy.
At the Royal College of Music, the final week before the winter break was a whirlwind of rehearsals, examinations, and festive gatherings. Tomoyo was busier than ever, her voice reaching new heights of clarity as she prepared for the prestigious Winter Soloist Showcase.
However, a new element had entered Tomoyo's daily life at the college—an element that neither she nor Eriol had anticipated.
His name was Julian Thorne. He was a third-year vocal student, a baritone with a voice like velvet and a smile that seemed to charm everyone from the strict professors to the weary security guards.
Julian was talented, ambitious, and undeniably handsome in a very traditional British way. And for the past two weeks, he had made it very clear that he was interested in more than just Tomoyo's harmony skills.
It started with small things: a cup of coffee left on her piano, a shared score of an Italian opera, or a request to practice a duet together. Tomoyo, in her natural kindness, saw Julian as a talented colleague and a friendly face in a competitive environment. She didn't notice the way he lingered after class or the way he looked at her when she sang.
One Thursday afternoon, the snow was falling heavily outside the college windows. Eriol had decided to walk to the faculty to meet Tomoyo. He told himself it was because the London streets were slippery and he wanted to ensure her safety, but in truth, he simply missed her presence.
He arrived at the grand rehearsal hall just as the afternoon session was ending. As he reached the doorway, he stopped.
Inside the hall, Tomoyo was standing by the grand piano. Beside her was Julian. They were looking at a sheet of music together, their heads close. Julian was laughing at something Tomoyo had said, and as Eriol watched, the older student reached out and playfully brushed a stray strand of silver-purple hair away from Tomoyo's face.
Eriol felt a sudden, sharp sensation in his chest. It wasn't the cold of the winter air, and it wasn't a flare of magical energy. It was a physical "sting"—a hot, uncomfortable pulse that made his breath catch. For a man who had lived for centuries, who had mastered the logic of the universe and the calm of the stars, this feeling was entirely foreign.
It was jealousy.
Eriol remained in the shadows of the hallway, his grey violet eyes narrowing. He watched as Julian said something else, leaning down to whisper in Tomoyo's ear. Tomoyo smiled—that bright, honest smile that Eriol had come to cherish. To Eriol, it felt as though someone was trying to steal a melody that belonged only to his house.
He stepped into the room, his footsteps silent on the polished wood. "The weather is turning quite treacherous, Tomoyo-san. I thought it best to bring your heavier umbrella."
Tomoyo looked up, her face lighting up with genuine surprise and joy. "Eriol-kun! You didn't have to come all this way in the snow."
Julian turned around, his smile faltering for just a microsecond as he looked at the tall, elegant teenager in the charcoal coat. Even though Eriol looked younger than Julian, there was an aura of ancient authority around him that made the older student straighten his posture.
"Ah, you must be Eriol," Julian said, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. "Tomoyo has mentioned you. The 'brilliant scholar' who shares her residence. I'm Julian Thorne."
Eriol took the hand, his grip firm and cool. "Hiiragizawa Eriol. And yes, Tomoyo-san and I share a great deal. Music, research, and a home."
The emphasis on the word home was subtle, but it didn't go unnoticed. Julian raised an eyebrow, his smile returning.
"Well, you're a lucky man, Eriol. Tomoyo is the brightest talent this faculty has seen in years. We were just discussing a potential duet for the spring gala. I think our voices would complement each other perfectly."
"I'm sure," Eriol replied, his voice as smooth as ice. "However, Tomoyo-san's schedule is quite full. She has her own compositions to focus on—works that require a very specific kind of dedication."
Tomoyo looked between the two men, sensing a strange tension in the air but not quite understanding the source. "Julian is very talented, Eriol-kun. He helped me understand the phrasing for the German lieder today."
"I am glad to hear you found a tutor," Eriol said, though his eyes remained fixed on Julian. "But perhaps we should head back. Nakuru is preparing a special tea, and the sun is setting."
As they walked out of the college, Julian called out after them, "See you tomorrow, Tomoyo! Don't forget about that coffee!"
Tomoyo waved back, but Eriol didn't turn around. He held the umbrella over Tomoyo, his hand gripping the handle tighter than usual. They walked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the crunch of snow under their boots.
"Is something wrong, Eriol-kun?" Tomoyo asked eventually. "You seem... very quiet today. Even more than usual."
Eriol looked at her, his expression unreadable. "I simply find the atmosphere of the music faculty to be somewhat... cluttered. There are many voices competing for attention."
"Julian is just being friendly," Tomoyo said, finally beginning to suspect what was happening. She looked at Eriol's profile—the sharp jawline, the serious eyes.
A small, mischievous thought crossed her mind. "He's very popular at the college. Many of the girls in the soprano section think he's quite handsome."
Eriol stopped walking. He looked at the falling snow, then back at her. "Handsome is a subjective term, Tomoyo-san. I find his technique a bit too theatrical. He lacks the subtlety that your voice possesses."
Tomoyo couldn't help it; she let out a small, soft giggle. "Eriol-kun... are you jealous?"
The word seemed to hang in the frozen air. Eriol stiffened, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink—a human reaction he still couldn't control. He looked like he wanted to argue, to provide a logical explanation based on magical theory or historical precedent.
But as he looked at Tomoyo's sparkling eyes, he realized that logic had no power here.
"I have lived many lives, Tomoyo," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I have seen empires rise and fall. I have commanded the elements. But I have never felt as though I might lose something precious to a 'theatrical baritone' with a nice smile. It is... a very unpleasant sensation."
Tomoyo stepped closer to him, ignoring the cold. She reached out and touched the sleeve of his coat—the coat she had made for him.
"You won't lose me, Eriol-kun. Julian is a colleague, but he doesn't know the song in my heart. He hasn't seen me through the rain, and he hasn't cared for me when I was lost in my own shadows."
She looked up at him, her expression becoming serious and tender.
"You are the one I sing for, even when you aren't in the room. You are the one who gave me a place to find my own voice. A thousand Julians couldn't change that."
Eriol felt the "sting" in his chest begin to fade, replaced by a deep, resonant warmth. He realized that jealousy was just another human vulnerability—a sign that he was truly alive and that he finally had something to lose. It was a terrifying feeling, but it was also beautiful.
"I apologize for my behavior," Eriol said, his voice returning to its calm, melodic tone. "It seems that being human is much more complicated than the books suggested. I am still learning how to manage these... 'irregular' heartbeats."
"I think you're doing just fine," Tomoyo said, tucking her arm into his as they continued their walk. "But for the record, I think you look much better in this coat than Julian would."
Eriol smiled, a genuine and relaxed expression that reached his eyes. "In that case, I shall make sure to wear it every time I collect you from the college."
When they arrived back at the house, Nakuru was waiting in the foyer, her eyes darting between the two of them. She had been watching from the window and had seen the way they were walking.
"Ooh, someone looks like they've been defending their territory!" Nakuru teased, pointing at Eriol. "Did you meet the handsome baritone, Eriol? I hear he's quite a hit with the ladies."
"Suppi and I have already calculated the probability of him being a distraction," Suppi added, appearing from the kitchen with a plate of cookies. "It is currently at sixty-eight percent."
Eriol ignored them both, hanging his coat up with a flourish. "He is a non-factor. Tomoyo-san and I have reached a mutual understanding regarding the quality of his technique."
Tomoyo laughed and headed toward the stairs. "I'm going to practice, Eriol-kun. Would you like to listen? I'm working on a new melody."
"I would like nothing more," Eriol replied.
As Tomoyo's voice began to fill the house, Eriol sat in the living room, listening to the notes. He realized that Julian Thorne wasn't a threat; he was a reminder.
A reminder that Tomoyo was a woman of the world, a talent that others would inevitably notice. But he also knew that while Julian might hear her music, he was the only one who truly knew the composer.
The sting of jealousy had been a lesson. It taught him that his heart was no longer a spectator in his own life. He was a participant, a man who could feel anger, fear, and love in their rawest forms.
And as the snow continued to fall outside, he felt more settled than ever. He was no longer the master of a magical destiny; he was the guardian of a very human melody.