Title: Alternates
Fandom: Tsubasa RESERVoir CHRoNiCLE
Pairing: Syaoran/Sakura
Rating: PG
Word Count: 461
Summary/Description: Three things that never happened to Syaoran.
Warning/Spoilers: No spoilers (although, if you haven't read up to Chapter 117 or so, you might want to avoid the A/N below). And no warnings, 'cept for some angst.
A/N: Wah. For the record, I totally screwed up Rinny's request. She asked for real!Syaoran, and being stoopid, my mind immediately went to the Syaoran I was used to, the one we had known all along. Who is actually the fake. Oi. (shot)
Dedication: For Yukari Rin. :3
Disclaimer: I do not own TRC. Sad, isn't it? (cries)
1. The clang of the bell was sharp in both their ears, cutting off Sakura's words and sending them both to the floor. The magic of the moment fizzled into nothing, and the two teens strove to avoid the other's eyes.
Syaoran couldn't help but feel that a monumental moment had been interrupted. She had been about to tell him something; he could see it in the shine of her eyes and the twist of her lips. And that something had the weight of something ten times the mass of all the earth he had ever delved beneath to uncover secrets untold.
He had a few secrets himself.
Even as they said their goodbyes, and the princess made earnest promises, he thought about it. He was by no means necessary ready to tell her, and maybe she wasn't ready to hear it, but something in the air told him that the moment was right, and never would be again.
When Sakura turned to go, a hand on her wrist stopped her. She turned to find Syaoran looking at her with a most earnest expression, a flush on his cheeks.
"Syaoran…?" she asked questioningly.
"Sakura-hime… I. I…" He became pinker, and his voice went up an octave with each word. The time was right, he told himself, the time was right. "I… I lo- love you. I love you."
Sea green eyes widened, swimming with tears, and Syaoran couldn't help but feel that he had done the right thing.
2. Syaoran is eight years old when the princess of Clow Country dies.
He and his father have not been in this country for long, so the pain and the shock do not jar them as much as it does the other citizens. Syaoran watches with an almost morbid fascination as people dissolve into tears right before his eyes; in the streets, stopping to press hands to mouths in horror; behind their vending stalls, their wares forgotten; in their homes, leaning from the windows to hear the dreadful news. Even the town crier can barely keep his composure as he marches through the town, relaying the poisonous news with an unwilling tongue.
Syaoran and his father were supposed to have an audience with the Prince today; it seemed like it would be postponed.
Syaoran continues watching the grief unfold among the townsfolk until he feels a slight weight on his head. He looks up to find his father looking down at him with a sad, troubled expression.
"Lower your head Syaoran; show some respect. She was obviously a very special person."
Syaoran notes a little girl clinging to her mother's dress and sobbing with abandon; he can only agreed. So he lowers his head and says a short prayer.
3. Sakura kissed him.