"Story II"

A Tsubasa Chronicles fanfiction by Sakura no Miko

Summary: Another take on the vampire hunter and his quarry…and then some other stuff.

Warnings: Much like my other "Story" and most Tsubasa fanfics, this is completely made up off the top of my head. So stop asking me if this is what really happened in Tsubasa, okay? I don't know, and nobody but CLAMP knows.

Also, despite the title, this has no relation to my other Tsubasa 'fic, "Story," except for a similar writing style.

Pairing: Um, mainly Subaru/Seishirou, but a slight Sakura/Syaoran deviation and some hints of Fai/Kurogane

Disclaimer: If I wrote Tsubasa, this would all be true…but shorter, more concise, more poetic, and all-around better written. Not to mention drawn.


Syaoran had always loved stories—to hear the tales of mystery and adventure that seemed so far away.

And so, when his new friend decided to confide in him the tale of his woes, Syaoran accepted eagerly. He was a strange young man, not much older than Syaoran himself, with the prettiest, most intense eyes Syaoran had ever seen.

They had only just met, on a single day out of many, when the young man had decided to help Syaoran out in a rather unmatched fight. The two had become fast friends, although there was something…something Syaoran couldn't quite place, some strange feeling. He invited the young man to lunch, though the offer had been declined that day and many others after. The young man would always smile and say, this place doesn't have my kind of food. He had traveled so far from home, it was very difficult to find things he could eat.

Even as he grew a little pale and his steps began to slow, he refused to eat or rest, smiling that strange smile he sometimes had and murmuring that Syaoran sounded so like… He would stop, suddenly, before ending the thought. He was strong enough to keep going until he found a more favorable meal.

The young man was always alone. When pressed, he said, with some sadness, that he had quarreled with his traveling companion. Syaoran smiled. He understood the sentiment.

He didn't even yet know the young man's name. They would meet, crossing paths at random, and exchange a few words. So when the young man—it seemed strange to call him a boy, though he really wasn't much older or even taller than Syaoran—offered the story, almost insistently, Syaoran sensed something was wrong. Perhaps he could help, somehow.

There was once, the young man began slowly, a Bet, between himself and another boy.

What kind of bet? Syaoran asked.

The young man smiled sadly. A Bet about love, he whispered. About whether a terrible, heartless person could ever find love, and be loved, simply for who he was.

Syaoran listened to the story with wide eyes.


There was once a boy who longed to be loved.

His heart ached with the need so badly he wanted to die.

But no one could ever love him. Not once they knew what he was. A murderer. Someone who had to take lives, not because he wanted to, but because it was his birthright and his duty. His entire life depended on it.

Even worse was the fact that he could offer life just as easily.

Even those who could forgive him for his sins soon abandoned any affection they might have had in that mad, obsessive quest for the life he could give them.

The boy wept, one night, beneath a beautiful cherry tree, the blossoms full and pink. He had just killed, again. Killed a pretty young girl, who had done nothing to him except crossed his path. There was a soft rustle of leaves, and he suddenly became aware that he was not alone.

There was a little boy, wide-eyed, staring at him curiously, but not fearfully.

The murderer smiled at him, showing off the bloody tools he used to kill. But the boy did not flinch. He was not afraid.

The murderer was…intrigued. Such a strange child, not to fear death. Not to fear…him.

"She's dead," the child whispered. "You killed her."

"I did."

"You are one…one of them, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Will you kill me too?"

The murderer smiled, blood dripping, drip-drop. He leaned over to grab the boy, who did not flinch. "Aren't you supposed to ask for life, instead?" he whispered.

"It must be horrible," the child said softly, staring at him eye-to-eye. "Your life."

No one had ever said that before. No, everyone had been envious of him! Envious of his cold and terrible existence. But this child didn't want it… The murderer had never encountered anyone like that before.

So he made a Bet with the boy, sealing it in the child's blood, scarring it into his very skin.

"We will meet again," the murderer whispered, and yet, his voice was unusually soft. "You see what I am, and yet do not care. So I will see. See if you…" He broke off, disappearing, before his heart could begin to hope.

if you are the one who can love me, and not what I can give you…


The young man paused dramatically, and Syaoran watched him with eager eyes.

This will not be a happy story, you know, the young man said softly, that same pained look in his eyes. He seemed so much older, as if there were more years in him than his face could show.

Please keep going, Syaoran whispered.


The murderer went on with his life, the endless days of death and blood and misery.

And yet, he knew the boy the moment he saw him again. He was taller—and it made the murderer laugh. Taller now than him, even. Stronger, faster, a supreme work of human youthfulness.

And, the murderer thought with a strange sort of…satisfaction, the boy had grown up to be beautiful. A rugged, masculine sort of beauty, set off by the fascination of his eyes, eyes that had not changed.

The boy did not remember him—how could he?

He could not even recall how he'd gotten the strange scars, nor how he'd met the murderer, so long ago, under the full moon and falling cherry petals.

It was hard for the murderer. Hard to play the innocent, kind friend the boy needed most. Hard to hide the traces of blood, the little scraps of cloth and scent and a million other miniscule things that didn't matter until they had to disappear.

Oh, but it was worth it!

Such a beautiful feeling flared in the murderer's heart, a sort of tenderness and reverence for this beautiful boy. A happiness he had not felt in years. A sinful sort of desire that cramped up his insides and made him weep at night. And, above all, the wonderful feeling that what he was, what he had to be, no longer mattered.

He was…normal. Just another man in love.

A year passed, a year of such utter happiness and completion that the murderer found himself deserting his kin and friends, so lost in the illusion of normalcy as to attempt something very, very foolish.

He brought the boy back to that spot, the spot of their destined meeting. He spoke not a word, wondering if the memories might stir.

The boy—sweet, innocent boy—leaned close to his ear. "I want…"

"What?" Anything, anything at all, that the murderer could give, just to hold on to this sparkling moment of peace and joy forever.

"A kiss…"

The murderer, with a clumsy sort of nervousness he could hardly believe he had, leaned forward, but the boy stopped him. "Not that sort of kiss, you fool."


Syaoran blinked. What do you mean? he asked.

The young man was silent, for a moment. A kiss of death, he said bitterly.


The "Kiss," or so men called it, the gift of life.

"Give it to me," the boy said again, his eyes suddenly cold, dangerous. "You love me, don't you? Why not give it to me?"

The murderer's lips could not speak.

"I made you happy, did I not?" The voice was so cold. "I played your game."

No, no, the murderer whispered. It cannot be.

The boy was suddenly around him, embracing him, breathing into his ear with the coldest words. "Give it to me…" His hands were fast around the murderer's smaller form. "Or I will take it by force!"

With an anger he did not know he possessed, the murderer screamed, a keening, inhuman wail of heartbreak.

He cursed it all—all the joy, all the days of desperately trying to hide his true nature, or ignoring his desires to make the other happy…

Brutally, he forced the boy down, to his knees, a helpless position of utter submission.

His fangs shattered the boy's skin once more, tearing open the old scars, spilling his blood hot and thick. The murderer drank eagerly, sucking out each drop as painfully as he could.

In his unquenchable anger, he left the boy there to die.


Syaoran stared, open-mouthed, silently begging for an explanation.

The young man smiled, a rueful, sad smile. The Vampire's Kiss, he whispered, and his voice was so pained he could barely whisper, is the gift of eternal life.

Syaoran's eyes grew wide.

Yes, the young man murmured. You understand, don't you?

Syaoran looked at him for a moment, serious with the weight of all he had heard, of the maturity forced upon him by his seemingly endless quest.

He had just one question to ask.

The young man nodded. Anything you want to know.

"Which one were you?"

The boy smiled, innocent and tragic. "Subaru," he replied simply.


Sakura's constant presence was such a comfort.

Syaoran mulled over the story, looking for anything he could use, anything that could help him understand. Sakura, with her infinite tenderness, would flutter around the room, not saying anything, just staying near him and reaching out to touch his hand, or his shoulder, when he reached a thought too complex or terrible to contemplate further.

Seishirou could be cruel, yes, and he did admit his quest was for eternal life.

But could he be that cruel?

Or was he right, to speak about how crafty and clever the vampires were?

To be completely truthful, the boy—Subaru, the vampire—puzzled Syaoran.

He seemed, at first, so kind and innocent—a combination rarely seen in any world, especially at his age.

Only Syaoran's own kind nature kept him from being repelled by the boy's very existence. After all, what could be more horrible than seeing everything he'd left behind, all compressed into one slender and affable young man?

Though Kurogane scoffed at his naiveté, Syaoran recognized in him a kindred spirit. Though his own innocence and happiness had been slowly fading—so slowly that he hardly recognized it yet in himself—he still felt a kinship to this stranger, the meeting of a soul similar to his own.

That was the puzzle.

But then again, hadn't he once thought—even if only for a brief moment—of Seishirou in the same manner?

He thought of the boy's face, the very instant he whispered those last words.

So much pain, and so many years…

Sakura cried out his name, suddenly, making his heart race with fear as he ran to her.

"Where is he?" someone cried out, a girl, a girl who had wandered into their rooms, cloaked and hidden. She pulled off the concealing garment with a flourish.

If she had not spoken, Syaoran would surely have called her Subaru. Of course, his mind whispered, the vampire twins.

"I have not seen him since yesterday," Syaoran said calmly, pulling Sakura safely behind him.

"Liar," the girl vampire whispered, her teeth glinting. "What have you done to him!" She lunged forward, knocking Syaoran back against a wall. "You're working with him, aren't you?" She reached out, violently choking the boy, eyes ablaze. "You told him where Subaru was!"

Syaoran started to speak, but Sakura suddenly darted forward, was if to put herself between them, her eyes glittering and her voice half-sobbing. "We really don't know," she said. She reached forward, to touch the girl's cheek. "You must be so worried about him," she whispered.

The girl trembled, and she suddenly fell to her knees. "Where is my brother?" she wailed softly. "He's here. He's here, and my brother is all alone…"

"He?" Syaoran whispered, though he already knew.

"Seishirou," the girl whispered.


They fanned out through the city, each in a different direction. Fai, Sakura, and Mokona to the south, to seek, not to fight. Kurogane, eager to face Seishirou again, to the north, the heart of the city. And Syaoran and the vampire girl, racing in opposite directions, into the outskirts.

Syaoran began to suspect, deep in heart, that something was wrong. Something in Subaru's eyes, some sadness and some pain, something that felt…final.

After all the years of running, surely Subaru wouldn't let himself be caught… unless he wanted to be caught.

Syaoran searched and sought, from one collapsing building to one abandoned gravesite, far and near, every place he could think of.

And then, he felt the pull…the faint, faint pull of Sakura's soul, the feather Seishirou held with him always.

Of course, he whispered to himself, as he found it: a beautiful, blooming cherry tree, in the middle of what might have been a park, long, long ago.

Subaru's pale skin was paler still, his arms chained up against the tree, Seishirou looming over him, seemingly so larger, so much larger and stronger than his captive.

Syaoran ran up, and slammed against an invisible barrier. Seishirou's eyes flicked towards him, only once. "Welcome, Syaoran," he said softly.

"Let him go!" Syaoran cried out, slamming his fists against it, the wall he could not see, the magic Seishirou drew from Sakura's feather.

"Don't you want to see how the story ends?" he heard Seishirou say faintly as the man leaned down to embrace the boy, pushed his neck against Subaru's face.

Subaru gasped, tried to turn away, his eyes bulging. He struggled, and struggled…

And when Syaoran could see his face again, the boy's eyes were red with blood-lust, his long fangs protruding from a mouth that was gasping, opened so wide.

"You haven't been eating, Subaru. Didn't I tell you to take care of yourself?" Seishirou kept speaking, low, hushed words laced with a teasing affection. "You're always like this when Hokuto isn't there to take care of you." The man chuckled. "I'm amazed you're still alive, after all these years." He reached up and loosened the tall collar on his neck, pushing it down, baring the flesh, white and…not quite unmarred.

Subaru gasped, and made a sort of gurgling, choking sound, mixed with a sob. Syaoran see them now, the marks that Seishirou's clothes had always covered up—two small, round marks on his neck.

Syaoran watched in shock, suddenly aware that he was not the only one watching. His companions had arrived at some point. Yes, he could hear Sakura's muffled tears of sympathy, hear Fai gently patting her back, hear Kurogane trying to muffle his own emotion with a mocking snort, as if it were all some foolish bedtime story…

"No…" Subaru whispered. "No, Sei, please…"

"Please, Subaru," Seishirou mimicked, thrusting his neck up closer to Subaru's flailing face.

And suddenly, Subaru was so close, biting desperately, his fangs sinking deep into Seishirou's flesh, two tiny rivers of red splashing out.

For an eternal instant, they were locked together like that, a desperate sort of embrace.

Syaoran felt a hand against his. Sakura, standing next to him, eyes wide in horror. He pulled her against him, her face against his chest, away from the violence of Subaru's tearing teeth, sunk deep in Seishirou's willing flesh, and Seishirou's body, writhing in sudden, harsh motions.

Behind them, Fai let out a sideways glance at Kurogane. "Should we cover the little ones' eyes?" he whispered softly, and Kurogane flinched away, slightly red, his face set in a harsh glare, ashamed to admit that he'd gleaned the same idea from watching Subaru and Seishirou's bitter parody of a loving embrace.

And then Seishirou slumped down, falling to the ground, the chains disappearing, and, had Syaoran not been frozen in shock by the spectacle before him, he might have noticed that the barrier was gone as well.

Subaru stumbled forward, almost falling to his knees, red dripping from his mouth, a stunned expression on his face.

"Subaru…" Seishirou's voice drifted up. The man had managed to right himself, and he leaned heavily against the tree, his hand against his neck, stained red. He coughed, and his eyes fluttered, his breaths coming harsh and fast.

"What?" Subaru whispered, without turning to face him. He was crying, silent tears of crystal and ruby falling down his cheek. "What now…Sei?" He almost choked on the last word.

"Give me a kiss, Subaru."

"No!"

Syaoran winced at the rage, the pain in that word. Subaru twisted around, as if to strike Seishirou, but his hand stopped, just inches away from the man's face.

Seishirou laughed, and grabbed Subaru's hand, gently kissing the fingertips. "Grant me my dying wish, Subaru. I…ask you."

At that, Subaru sobbed, without holding anything back. "You're just like the rest of them. I hate you." But it was whispered with tears, not anger. "Ask me anything but that, Sei…anything but the curse…"

"No…"

Subaru looked up, at that single word.

"I want a real kiss."

Seishirou suddenly pushed himself forward, into Subaru's startled embrace. He sagged, trying to hold the larger man up.

Seishirou's head lay on his shoulder, and Subaru finally leaned down, still teary-eyed. Their lips met in a tender kiss.

"I…" Syaoran could barely hear Seishirou speak. He began to walk forward, slowly, unaware of it. "…you, Subaru…"

"Syaoran!" Subaru suddenly cried at him, for him, and Syaoran's legs suddenly started to move. He broke into a run.

"Your sword, Syaoran…" Subaru whispered again. "Please, cut me…right here…just a little." He leaned over, exposing his own neck. Sensing the younger boy's hesitation, he whispered, desperately, "Please, Syaoran, I…I can't lose him again…"

Syaoran's blade slid across his neck, and the boy hissed softly in pain, grabbing up Seishirou's limp body, cradling it, forcing his mouth up against his bleeding neck. "Drink, Sei, please," Subaru whispered. "I'll give it to you….just don't leave me alone." The last part, with a little sob. The red blood dripped from Seishirou's lips, overflowing from his mouth.

Syaoran couldn't speak. Seishirou was already dead. "Subaru…"

"No…" Subaru said softly. "He's not dead." More of that red, staining their clothes, so much. "He can't be. He can't."

There was a desperation in his voice that made Syaoran's heart ache in sympathy. He reached out to touch the boy's shoulder.

Someone screamed as Seishirou's body suddenly jerked back up, eyes blazing red, two large and prominent fangs suddenly sinking into Subaru's neck, with such a force the smaller boy was knocked back, his back in the dirt, Seishirou's body seeming to crush him down.

Syaoran grasped his sword uneasily, but Subaru seemed unfazed. He slowly maneuvered his arms around, one against Seishirou's back, the other on his head, and pulled himself close enough to sink his own teeth into Seishirou's neck. They jerked, at first, but slowly, their bodies started to still, until there was only soft, strange noise of the two of them suckling the other's blood.

Syaoran backed away uneasily, unsure of what to do or say. He blushed, suddenly, though he wasn't sure why, and turned away. Fai and Kurogane came up to him.

"…really too young to be seeing stuff like this," Syaoran heard Fai murmuring, smiling brightly, as Kurogane glared at him. Fai's smile only widened. "Even if they don't know what it is," he concluded.

"Where's…" Syaoran faltered for a moment, unable to recall her name. "Where's Subaru's sister?"

Kurogane answered gruffly, "She was the one who told us to come out here."

They heard a soft gasp behind them. Subaru had let go of Seishirou's neck, and was breathing rather heavily. He grimaced in pain, once, then again, and started to push himself up, careful of Seishirou's face, lying against his shoulder, still at his neck. "I told you not to follow me," he said finally.

"And you knew I wouldn't listen." The girl, the sister, jumped down from the tree's many branches. Syaoran was startled by how much they looked alike, side-by-side like this. Subaru's eyes flicked up to the tree, a look of surprise on his face. The girl shrugged. "It seemed like a place with a good view."

"You always did like to watch," Subaru said snidely. He cradled Seishirou's form gently, petting Seishirou's hair affectionately, staring at him, not her.

She looked hurt. "I'm sorry, Subaru. I know I've been mean to you lately, but I just didn't want to see you get hurt like…" She stopped, mid-sentence, when Subaru began to slump back, looking far paler than usual. "Subaru!" she cried out, throwing her arms around him. She suddenly noticed Seishirou's mouth, fastened against Subaru's neck. "Get off!" she said, taking hold of the back of Seishirou's coat and trying to push him back. "Hey! Give me some help here!"

Syaoran and Kurogane rushed up, each taking a hold of Seishirou's arm. In a quick motion, they pulled him back, Seishirou sliding clumsily back, Subaru falling into his sister's arms. The girl shook Subaru, and he looked at her faintly. "How much did you let him take?" she asked angrily. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

Seishirou's eyes were glazed over, his teeth sliding over his lips, still red. His eyes were red as well, though the mad glow had faded into a dulled, unseeing daze. "Are you alright?" Syaoran asked, truly concerned, and not liking the way either of his friends looked.

"Subaru needs to feed, quickly," the girl said. "He gave too much blood."

"I can…" Syaoran started to say, but Fai pushed an arm in front of him.

The tall magician smiled at him. "You should save yourself for Sakura," he said. "Let me do it." He looked past Syaoran, towards Kurogane. "I'm more used to this sort of thing than you'd think," he said pointedly, making the man glare and look away. Syaoran looked so adorably confused, he thought to himself. He knelt down next to the young vampire boy, and tried not to make a sound as he was bitten.

Once she'd seen to her brother, the girl stood up to look over Seishirou. She looked into his eyes, and leaned back, as if contemplating.

Then she slapped him, hard, across the face.

Seishirou started, one arm clumsily flailing out, as if to grab her. "Su…" he started to say, then shook his head. "Hokuto. Polite as always, I see."

"You stupid human. Don't you know when to stop?" she seethed. "You could have killed Subaru!"

Seishirou's expression changed. "Killed?" he echoed softly, staring over at Subaru. His hand wandered up, stopping at the sharp, red-stained teeth. His eyes widened, suddenly realizing what had happened. "The Kiss…" he whispered. Red-stained flashes of Subaru, leaning over him, and the sweet taste of his blood.

He sought Subaru's gaze, and noted, with distaste, that the younger man was otherwise occupied, sucking quickly at the neck of one of Syaoran's companions. Distaste…and a certain amount of hunger. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. "I didn't mean to…" he started to say, but stopped. It sounded pathetic. Shameful, to let the hunger control him.

To his surprise, Hokuto leaned forward, and embraced him in a tight hug. "It will hurt for a while," she said sympathetically. "But you can control it. You have to control it."

Seishirou nodded. He touched the sharp teeth again, thoughtfully. "I never intended to take him from you," he said softly. "Or to hurt him so badly."

Hokuto smiled. "I always wondered why my brother wouldn't just kill you. I think I'm starting to understand, now."

They looked at each for a moment, then Hokuto turned to the group. "I think we could all use a rest. My brother and I have a house, not too far from here."

Subaru and Fai walked up, slowly, stumbling. "I took enough, for now," Subaru said softly, answering his sister's unspoken inquiry.

Kurogane went to Fai's side, and the man leaned against him. "Thanks, Kuro-pi," he said, with a teasing smile.

"I think we'll need you to help Seishirou," Hokuto said, pointing a finger in Kurogane's direction. "He's too big for any of the rest of us. I can take my brother, and Syaoran, you can help your friend, okay?"

Kurogane made a low growl of displeasure. "Oh, be nice, Kuro-ko," Fai said gently. "I'm not that bad off. Go help him." Kurogane stomped off, and Fai smiled.


It took longer for them to reach the house than it should have, half of them stumbling, the other half trying to help.

The finally entered the lush house, decked out in bright colors. Seishirou and Subaru slowly crept towards one of the rooms, waving off any need of help. Hokuto looked them over, frowning.

"Seishirou, let me see your fangs," she asked, and she stared at the two long teeth for a moment. "They're very big," she said finally. "Useful."

"You expected anything less of me, Hokuto?"

Syaoran wondered why the two of them suddenly started laughing, while Subaru looked rather flushed. Hokuto finally gave them permission to go off to bed.

Kurogane instantly came over to take Fai away from Syaoran. The younger boy was almost falling down trying to hold the other up. Sakura leaned over to help Syaoran, who swayed unsteadily for a moment, trying to regain his balance.

They followed Hokuto to another room, where Kurogane promptly dropped Fai onto the bed, still scowling.

"Aww," Fai sighed. "Kuro-chan isn't going to tuck me into bed or give me a goodnight kiss or anything?"

"No." Kurogane flopped down into a chair, staring intently at the floor.

"You don't have to stay," Fai protested.

Kurogane just grunted, shaking his head. "May as well."

"Well, I'm going to cook dinner," Hokuto announced. Mokona bounced up happily, and she grabbed the fluff ball. "You can come help me, okay? Be my taste-tester for all the spices. Anything but garlic…" Her voice faded.

Sakura started to leave behind them, and Syaoran followed suit, until he heard the soft whispers behind him.

"I wasn't lying, Kurogane," came Fai's voice. "I'm perfectly fine. I've been through worse."

"You're…used to this kind of thing?" Kurogane said, and Syaoran turned around, unable to place the emotions he was hearing. They were sitting closer together than he'd thought.

"…yes…"

Fai's smile faded, just for a moment, and something like pain, or sadness, crossed his face.

It was only a glimpse, but it was enough.

And then Sakura was pulling on his hand, pulling him away, before he could process the image.

The kitchen was large and lavish, and Hokuto pulled out two large glasses and filled them with a dark red liquid. She pressed them into Syaoran's hands. "Go give these to Seishirou and my brother. Make sure they drink all of it," she ordered in a motherly way.

Syaoran made his way to the room Subaru and Seishirou had claimed, feeling a little uneasy about having to large glasses of blood chilling his hands. The door was shut, and he struggled to free a hand to knock.

He could hear them talking to each other, a low rumble from Seishirou, and Subaru's soft voice.

"…I'm sorry…"

"…I wanted to…"

He finally managed to tap against the door, the voices stopped instantly. Syaoran found himself face-to-face with Subaru, who was smiling, brighter than Syaoran had ever seen. "For you," he managed to say, shaking the glasses slightly, suddenly nervous. Subaru nodded and took the glasses, moving aside so Syaoran could see Seishirou's form, sitting up on the bed, getting up to grab his own glass. "She says to drink all of it," he added, mimicking Hokuto's affectionate command, all his nervousness vanishing.

"Does she now?" Seishirou said softly. He laughed. "Can't disappoint her now, can I?" He leaned over and grabbed one of the glasses, taking large drink of the blood. "It's cold."

"It has to be cold so it'll keep fresh," Subaru said.

"I'd rather have it nice and hot."

Subaru coughed a little. He turned to look at Syaoran. "I didn't have the chance to thank you, Syaoran."

"It's okay," Syaoran said. "I didn't do anything."

"You managed to get my Subaru to actually stay put for once," Seishirou said suddenly. "That, more than anything, deserves thanks." He pulled out the feather, such a tiny looking thing, and offered it to Syaoran's eager hands. "For your princess, Syaoran."

"Thank you!" Syaoran stammered. Another feather…!

"You look tired, Syaoran," Subaru said gently. "You should get some rest. You're still pretty young, after all."

Syaoran nodded.

"That reminds me," Seishirou said suddenly. "I want to ask you something, Subaru, and I want you to tell me the truth," Seishirou said in hushed tones, looking terrible serious.

Subaru nodded, looking nervous, and blushing ever so slightly—the very picture of a boy and his first love.

"How much older than me are you, really?"

Subaru looked up at him, for a moment, in surprise, before he relaxed, seeing Seishirou smile at him, gently. "Oh, a couple of centuries, I guess, give or take a few years."

Seishirou laughed, before gently pulling Subaru against him and kissing him.

Syaoran watched for a moment, and turned away, suddenly. It…hurt, he realized, taking a few shaky steps back, faster, until he was back in the main room.

"Syaoran?"

It was Sakura, and Syaoran felt another stab of pain. He understood it now. He was…jealous. Jealous that he couldn't…have the one he wanted to have…

"Hokuto wanted me to see what was taking so long," Sakura said softly, innocently. She frowned a little. "Syaoran…your friends…what were they doing?"

"It's called a kiss," Syaoran said softly, unable to meet her eyes.

"Kiss?" Sakura's eyes lit up. "I remember that."

Syaoran suddenly remembered the feather he was crushing in his hands. "Look, another feather for you, Princess."

Sakura's hand reached to touch it, and it disappeared into her body in a flash of light. Her eyes clouded. "Syaoran…?" she whispered. She leaned forward, suddenly, her face so close to his. "Were you the one I…?"

She was close enough to kiss, Syaoran thought, and he wanted to, so badly. Had wanted to, even since he'd seen her, that day he'd come back and they'd sat on the outskirts of the city, before everything went so wrong…

He pulled away, and Sakura fell into his arms. Whatever she'd remembered …she'd forgotten it again.

He pulled her over to the couch, trying to ignore the pain that welled up in his heart, the dark jealousy. Subaru could be happy. Seishirou could be happy. Even Fai and Kurogane had found some sort of friendship…

And he…

Sakura awoke with a start next to him.

"Are you alright, Princess?" he asked wearily. Her smile was so beautiful.

She nodded. "Syaoran…?" she whispered softly. "Are you alright?"

"Of course, Princess," he replied automatically, but when she reached for his hand, he pulled away. It hurt too much.

"Syaoran," she said again, her voice so pretty. She sounded hurt, and Syaoran cursed himself. Now he was making her sad, too. "Why are you sad?"

"Not every story has a happy ending," Syaoran said without thinking. His eyes betrayed him, suddenly welling up with tears of pain, and frustration, and so much sorrow…

"But maybe the story isn't over yet," Sakura replied. She hugged him, but it wasn't like usual. Instead of burying herself against Syaoran's chest, she pulled him close to hers, ignoring the tears she knew he didn't want her to see. They sat like that for a long time, enjoying the moment of blissful peace.

"Th…Thank you, Princess," Syaoran murmured finally, moving to get up. "I don't deserve…" He couldn't finish the thought. I don't deserve you…or this happiness you give me…

"Syaoran?" Sakura looked at him, a faint blush on her cheeks. Before he could wonder, she leaned forward, cupping his face in her hands, and kissed him. He was almost too scared to kiss her back.

Almost.

They broke off at about the same time, and Sakura took a clumsy step back, standing up. "I'll…go help Hokuto," she whispered.

Syaoran nodded silently.

"Syaoran?"

He looked at her beautiful face. His princess. His Sakura.

"I remember…"

"What?"

She shook her head. "I…never mind." She gave another long, longing look. "I thought I remembered something, but I guess not." Her sunny smile covered up whatever she was thinking, but Syaoran found it didn't bother him. She started to leave again.

He heard her voice, just barely, whisper one last thing.

"I remember kisses because I wanted to kiss Syaoran."

And she was gone.

Syaoran leaned back against the couch, wiping away the last tears from his eyes. She didn't remember him. She didn't remember them. And yet, somehow, maybe their ending was happy, anyway.


Author's notes: As usual, this was supposed to be short. Short like my other "Story." But I couldn't sleep, so I started thinking…and here we are.

Poor Syaoran is so innocent. I'd thought it would be funny to have an very innuendo-filled SxS (that's Subaru and Seishirou, duh!) relationship, one that Kurogane and Fai (Fye, Fay, whatever) pick up on immediately, but poor Syaoran never notices.

My characters are all so off here. Hokuto's first appearance is totally out-of-character, but I figure it fits in with how we saw her towards the end of Tokyo Babylon. I do, however, think the slap was in character. If Seishirou was being stupid and hurting Subaru, I'm sure she'd knock some sense into him.

Seishirou got rather iffy towards the end, but…well, a near-death experience will do that to you.

I apologize to both Anne Rice and for using their influence in writing my vampire scene. I didn't notice until after I'd written the scene, I swear!

Oh, and here's my teensy-weensy challenge: Does anyone know where the "are you older than me?" line comes from? I know it's nearly impossible to find that particular volume of that particular manga around where I live (though all the other volumes are available. Weird), but I'm just wondering if anyone knows. I think it was funnier in the original than in my fic.  : (

And one question, too: Was Subaru's identity at the beginning ambiguous enough? I was hoping that the readers, like Syaoran, might have had to ask themselves, "Okay, is he talking to Seishirou (the "victim") or Subaru (the "murderer")?"

And it's TOO LONG!

So I won't waste anymore space with useless chatting.