[for your sake alone]

(silver_phoenix@usa.net)

As a much-needed stress relief, this little story was born. It's my take on a small incident that *might* have happened during that period of time where Yuki kept falling asleep. ^^ Wholly inspired by that gorgeous manga pic of Touya playing the violin. I play the violin myself, and couldn't resist writing thisplease tell me what you think!

--denotes flashbacks

--denotes thought

Kimi no tame dake ni

(Only for your sake)

~~~~

He stroked the burnished wood that shone a soft reddish brown in the dim light of the music room. Long fingers slid gently, caressingly up the instrument's slender neck, started turning the gleaming black pegs firmly yet delicately. The other hand plucked the four taut strings in turn, listening intently for the exact note the thread of wire needed to emit.

At last he finished tuning the violin, and turned to pick up the long bow, its horsehair already well saturated with rosin. He poised it carefully above the strings, wondering what to play. He was unable to decide, and finally shrugged, settling to play a minuet from the Bach tunes he was familiar with first. The fingering wasn't too complicated, and it would serve as a good warm-up.

He brought the bow down gently on the strings, increasing the pressure slightly as he adjusted his grip on its handle. He breathed in, pressed his fingers on the strings in their respective positions, and started to play. He shut his eyes two bars into the song, playing from memory. He liked this particular minuet; its tempo was neither too fast nor slow, and it had a rhythm that was relatively simple to follow. Long, slim fingers danced gracefully over silver wire, the bow moving up, moving down, moving across in time to their motions.

He was particularly fond of the violin, more so than of the piano. It was nothing more than a matter of personal taste, really. He liked the sweet, lingering trills and flourishes the four thin strings were capable of producing, and being able to hold the whole instrument as he played. The latter gave him an odd satisfaction that he was in full control when he played; the former delighted his musical senses better than the black and white keys did.

Music was something that never failed to soothe and relax him. He wholeheartedly enjoyed playing it, no matter on the piano or violin. As long as he didn't have to sing, he was happy. Singing was not something that appealed to him. He liked to listen to others; he didn't like to do it himself. It was why he avoided karaoke sessions like poison, something Yuki loved to tease him about. Your voice isn't *that* bad, the other boy would tell him laughingly, why the phobia? He didn't know, couldn't say. It was just that he'd never been good at expressing his feelings in *words*. Prose or poetry or song, it didn't matter. He had never been comfortable with any of the three.

In his whole life, he had only sung to three people. His Okaa-san. Kaho.

And Yuki.

He had sung to Okaa-san when he was about six or seven, children's songs and folk songs and nursery rhymes. Okaa-san was always happy when he sang to her, and that was why he did it. Okaa-san looked so pretty when she smiled. He remembered sitting in her fragrant embrace, singing the new songs he had learned in school, and hearing her sweet, happy laughter. When she died, there had been no one for him to sing to. And he locked his singing voice away, kept it down under memories and grief.

He hadn't thought he would ever feel like singing again, until he had met Kaho, Kaho of the beautiful orange-gold hair and enigmatic gaze. Then he had sung to her at her request. And she, too, had been happy, just like Okaa-san. Why? he had asked. Why are you so happy when I sing? It's not like I sing that well.

She had smiled so gently, so softly, and told him, Because it's a sign you love me. You don't sing for just anyone.

And then she had left him.

He knew she was something of a psychic, that what she predicted would almost certainly come to pass, but it hadn't done much to ease the pain he had felt. If she loved him back, then why had she gone? Why, why, why? Too many questions, more than she would answer, and the answers he did receive were far from satisfactory. And he sealed away his singing once more, buried it in half-healed hurt and confusion, resolving never to let anyone hear it again. It would mean he cared for a person, cared too much for his own good. Not again; he wasn't going to be hurt so badly a second time. Not ever.

But Kaho had been right, as always.

In his first year of high school, Yuki had shown up. And his world had been irrevocably changed from the moment their eyes first met.

Staring into large eyes changing tint from liquid hazel to dark brown, a shock had run through him that had nothing to do with the delicate beauty of the other boy. Not human, his reikan screamed to him, he's not human.

Tsukishiro Yukito desu, yoroshiku ne, the boy-that-was-not-a-boy said to him cheerfully. His soft alto rang pleasantly in his ears.

Kimi wa--?

Kinomoto Touya, he replied somewhat hesitantly. How *was* he supposed to talk to this boy? Nice to meet you, Tsukishiro-san. By the way, I know you aren't human. That would probably be a slightly less than effective way of getting off to a good start.

I'm sitting next to you, so here's hoping we'll be good friends, ne? A sweet smile, one that, strangely enough, brought a slight flush to his face.

Aa. He watched Tsukishiro-san pull out the chair and gracefully seat himself on it. Sunlight shone on his pale hair, bringing out previously unseen silver highlights in it. He reaffirmed his first assessment of the other boy: he was beautiful.

And for no reason he could name, *something* inside his heart clicked and fell into place with that conclusion.

It really didn't matter if Tsukishiro-san wasn't human, he finally decided. He couldn't care less about it. What was important was that the slender youth intrigued him greatly, and he wanted, more than anything, to get to know him better.

Here's hoping we'll be good friends, ne?

He knew they would be.

You're too serious--you need a nickname, you know? I won't call you Touya, you're To-ya!

Very good friendsand something more than friends

~~~~

Yuki

He inadvertently skipped a few notes, and the melody was in danger of becoming unrecognisable. He hastily pushed his fingers into their correct positions, continuing to draw the bow up and down in fluid movements to cover up any break in the music.

Yuki.

An invisible band of steel seemed to close around his heart, squeezing it painfully. Not tight enough to draw blood yet, but that was only a matter of time.

It frustrated him tremendously, that Yuki didn't seem any nearer to realising he already *knew* about himhad known since the day they had first met. What made it worse was that he couldn't give Yuki the power he so desperately needed unless the other boy was aware he knew his secret. Hurry up, he pleaded silently, hurry *up* and find out. If you don't, you might very well disappear. I wouldn't be able to stand that. I wouldn't be able to live in a world without you.

The song came to end without his really being aware of it; his fingers stopped of their own accord when the last note was finished. Slowly he opened his eyes, lowering the bow and bringing the violin down from his chin.

Quiet applause sounded behind him. He jumped, whirling around. Yukito stood leaning against the wall, a strange expression in his eyes. But he was smiling, a smile as sweet as the one he had given him that first day.

He drew in a shaky breath, and glared--or tried to--at the silver-haired intruder. "Don't you ever knock?" he grumbled.

"But then I would have disturbed you," Yukito said lightly. "That was beautiful, To-ya. I didn't know you played the violin."

"You never asked."

"Maa, now I know, anyway." He pushed himself away from the wall and began walking towards him. But something was wrong--sharp eyes instantly noted how unsteady he was on his feet, and Touya sprang forward just in time to catch him as he started to fall. The violin and bow fell with a muffled clatter onto the carpeted floor of the room, but he hardly noticed.

Yukito leaned against him, silver-white head resting on his chest. Wide brown eyes stared up at him, the half-terrified half-bewildered look in them making him bite his lip.

"What's happening to me?" he whispered. "To-yaI'm scared" Slim hands clutched the front of his jacket convulsively, badly crumpling the crisp blue fabric.

Touya stroked his hair gently. "You knowI'll be here for you. No matter what."

"To-ya, you're always so gentle." Silken lids fell forward to shutter dark-brown orbs, Touya tightening his hold on the slender boy in his arms.

"Your violinis it spoilt?"

"It shouldn't be. The carpet broke its fall."

"Yokatta ne." Yukito opened his eyes, looked at him with that strange expression again. "To-ya?"

"Hm?"

"If I asked you to play the violin for mewould you?"

He never hesitated. "Yes."

I don't want to lose him. I *can't* lose him. I can't

A soft smile. "Then, play for me?"

He helped the other boy to a chair before kneeling and picking up the instrument, positioning it under his chin. "Only for you."

Yukito smiled again, a smile that was blinding in its radiance. "Arigatou, To-ya."

Music filled the room again, music that lingered sweetly in the ears of those who heard it. And in that music, a lost spirit temporarily found peace.

Only for him.

~~~~

~ o w a r i ~

I hope this wasn't very strange. ^^;; BTW, I'd just like to thank all who voted for me in the CLAMP fanfic awards--thanks muchly, I REALLY appreciate your support. Good luck to everyone who got nominated!

Cplease? ^^

Ja ne,

--SnM