[The day after Christmas, early in the morning, and Sakura isn't in her bed.
That in itself isn't very strange. She's always an early riser (earlier than when she lived in Japan, and didn't have to contend with the nightmares), but there's no accompanying noise that follows her wakefulness: no one in the kitchen making breakfast, or taking a shower in the bathroom, or sneaking a few moments of T.V. The apartment remains dead silent.
But whenever May attempts to track the girl down, check to make sure she didn't sleepwalk herself out the door, she'll likely see a mound by the couch. A blanket fort, really, Sakura covered head to toe with one of the spare sheets.
A little strange, but hey. Maybe the spiked eggnog is still in her system.]
12/26
That in itself isn't very strange. She's always an early riser (earlier than when she lived in Japan, and didn't have to contend with the nightmares), but there's no accompanying noise that follows her wakefulness: no one in the kitchen making breakfast, or taking a shower in the bathroom, or sneaking a few moments of T.V. The apartment remains dead silent.
But whenever May attempts to track the girl down, check to make sure she didn't sleepwalk herself out the door, she'll likely see a mound by the couch. A blanket fort, really, Sakura covered head to toe with one of the spare sheets.
A little strange, but hey. Maybe the spiked eggnog is still in her system.]