Well, hello! And Welcome to My Little World of Weirdness!

I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the characters that will grace this story; it's all CLAMP's! Always has been, always will be!

Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make!

//thinking//

"Talking"

*Emphasis/stress*

Unrequited.

By Dr Megalomania.

Part one: The Mirror

The bare branches of the trees bent and twisted as the icy wind danced through, plucking the last stubborn leaves from their wooden limbs.

The lingering echoed thought resounded in his mind, //Maybe he wanted to be alone with her//.

Yukito walked home.

Alone.

Again.

This was the fourth time this week he was alone on his homeward bound journey.

The cold wind blew hard against him, and his long scarf whipped about his body. Clamping a hand on the scarlet warmer, he pulled his knee-length jacket about him tighter.

He shivered, and hoped the wind would lighten up a bit. He blew into his hands and thought about the day.

Nakura would not leave him, or rather wouldn't leave To-ya alone. In fact, she was the reason he was walking home alone today. The red haired girl had accosted his best friend, and To-ya had told Yuki that he might as well go home. To-ya knew Nakura would keep him as long as possible.

//Maybe he wanted to be alone with her// a sad voice murmured quietly.

Yukito blinked. He didn't usually doubt his friend's actions, //No, // he retorted, //He knew she was going to keep him; he didn't want me to be late home. //

He pondered these strange thoughts all the way home.

When he had finished his meal, he brought his dishes to the kitchen to be cleaned. His grandparents were still travelling, so he was alone in the house again. He silently scrubbed each dish he had used, he wasn't in the mood to hum or sing as he would normally. He looked up from the sink; winter had caused the darkness to creep over the land faster than summer would. His beautiful garden, which he tended to every day with love and care, was bathed in a cold blue glow. Drawing his hands out of the warm soapy water, he reached over the counter to dry his hands on a towel. //Something about the moonlight . . . //. He moved into the sitting room, it had a door that lead to the garden. He left the dishes half done, to climb on to his roof and gaze at the full moon; it was washed in a slight cerulean tint.

//Something about the moonlight . . .// he searched his mind for the reason he was always fascinated by moonlight. He clasped his knees, and gazed lovingly at the great orb that hung so patiently in the diamond sky. The air was crisp; he savoured its cold snap. //Something about the moonlight . . .// he shook his head and let the thought go. Raising his hand, he brushed his silvery bangs out of his eyes. His hair seemed to glimmer white in the blue moonlight. He glanced at his hand; it had taken on an unearthly white hue, reflecting the light.

He didn't notice how the hours past, he was simply content to sit and bask in the light of the blue moon. Only when the bells of the clock tower chimed softly; did he notice the time. It was midnight. Yukito smiled and shook his head, //Enough moon gazing for tonight. //

When he had climbed down, he stood at the edge of the still pond and gazed one last look at the moon. As he turned to return to his house, he didn't notice the Reflection upon the cool water. It stayed on, lingering, looking longingly at the sapphire moon. The Reflection sighed gently, folded his wings and did what Yukito's Reflection should have done. It turned and disappeared from the still water.

Yawning widely and stretching his arms, Yuki entered his sparse bedroom. It was traditionally decorated, and he didn't remember having ever to change the décor. Something caught his eye as he past the mirror. For a brief moment, he thought he saw someone else's Reflection instead of his own.

He paused hesitantly before returning back to the full-length mirror, hanging on the wall.

Yukito gasped, instead of Tsukishiro Yukito staring back at him, a distracted being stood there. The pale winged being was inspecting the tip of one of it's wings, gently stroking an errant feather back into place. Once it had been set to it's liking, the being released the wing tip and shook it's wings out. It sighed heavily and brought it's face up to look back Yukito.

Yuki's mouth dropped open as the silvery being's unearthly cat-like eyes widened in shook.

The image blurred quickly. "No!" Yuki pressed his hands against the smooth plane, "I want to see you!"

The Reflection cleared for a short time, and pressed it's pale fingers against the glass in the same position as his own.

//You have the same fingers as I do// Yukito noted, his own fingers had a slight irregularity, the middle finger bent slightly at the tip, Yuki had thought this was only a trait he possessed. This silvery creature shared the irregularity as well.

He brought his eyes back up to the Reflection's. Where he would normal see his own warm amber orbs, he saw cool, amethyst spheres stared back.

Yukito knew what he wanted to ask; he wanted to know who this creature of sheer, untouchable beauty was. But something held him back, something deep within him whispered in haunting, echoed circles. //---Know who I am--- ---you-you know who I am-am---  ----You know who----//

Yukito opened his lips slowly, to tell the being, to ask it what it's name was. The creature's eyes crimped with some deep sadness that Yuki had never known. It knew what he was going to ask, so he shut his mouth, not willing to cause it further pain.

He lifted a hand away from the cool surface; the Reflection's hand remained. Yuki smiled slightly, and brought his fingers up to trace the Reflection's wings. His finger glided across the shimmering surface until they hit the edge of the frame. He looked back at the being's saddened features; lifting his finger once more he drew the outline of the silvery apparition's sharp jaw on the glass. The ghostly being tilted it's head as if Yuki's finger was actually gliding over the pale cheek.

It's eyes slid close.

"Who are you?" Yukito breathed awed, "What's your name?"

The alien eyes reopened, and the being's silver lips parted. No sound issued forth from them as they moved slowly. The creature was mouthing it's name repeatedly.

Yukito pressed his hands against the cool glass again. He leant forward slightly.

"Your name?" He breathed again, "I can't hear you . . ."

The being's captivating eyes slid shut again, and Yukito heard the lingering echoes sound again in his mind, //----Yue--- My-my name is Yue-Yue --- my name is----//. Yukito allowed his own eyes to shut.

//Yukito. My name, it's Yukito. // He thought gently.

There was a pause before the ghostly resonance replied, //----know--- I know---- I----//

Yukito opened his eyes, Yue stared back. "How?" he whispered.

The look of sadness returned, and Yue's face crumpled in pain. Before Yukito could stop him, the mirror shimmered and rippled like water disturbed.

Yukito stared deeply into the mirror; the mysterious winging angel was gone. //Something about the moonlight . . .//

Yue had fled.