I have been a long-time lover of CLAMP and their Clover series but it has taken quite a while to get this out. Every time I reread the manga, I just get this nostalgic feeling in my chest! I don't own.

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Start from Scratch

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1.

It had been raining when he first found him.

There was the thick stench of blood in the moist air and strung-out corpses hanging above his head. There was a continuous crackling of static that buzzed in his ear and a tracking map that had finally reformed in his vision. He was close.

He blinked.

A boy stood bare feet beneath the spider web of lines that ran across the dark gray sky.

He blinked.

The boy crumbled to the ground with soft words he couldn't hear.

Slick drops of wine red dripped from above and pale pink roses seemed to bloom by their feet as the diluted blood rippled in the puddles. He was a soldier. He followed orders and acted on commands, not favors or requests.

He gathered the boy in his arms and the rain smothered everything else.

000

A.

There were black bars that led up to a ceiling he couldn't reach.

He glanced at the white opaque glass that outlined the dark shapes and the black pillars that surrounded him. This cage was cold and desolate. There was only one vivid color that he could see and he reached out to swipe at the slick red.

It looked just like B's.

He tasted C's blood at the end of his fingertips.

And it tasted like B's too.

Salty, like liquid rust that smeared the black marble floors.

A didn't move from where he sat. Because he had all the time in this world, there was no rush. He waited patiently for B to come back into his arms and the air in their (him and C's) cage remained deathly still.

000

2.

He kneeled on two knees by the window and the room was dark.

There were yellow lights on the other side of the glass panes when the lieutenant walked in. His right hand was bandaged to the wrist but what hurt was the tattoo on his back. He could still remember the needle piercing the skin of his shoulder, a permanent mark that formed and stained, it was a pain that never subsided.

And in ribbons, A stepped into the room.

The lieutenant drew his sword.

As C, he stepped out and paced easily to the boy identical to him. It seemed like he was trying to reason with himself but A hadn't changed at all. A was like the cruel possessive personality he didn't want. The lieutenant materialized a weapon in his palm and even though it held no threat to either of the three-leafs, there was already the fresh scent of blood in the room.

His heart seemed to stop (but he knew the beating had only speed up to a pounding in his chest.)

He faced A and stood in front of the lieutenant with his arms spread wide, like a pair of wings he never had.

There was irritation. A was staring straight at him.

"Do you like me?"

"Yes."

There was anger. A glanced at the lieutenant.

"Do you like me best?"

"Yes."

There was fear. A had— he couldn't remember.

"From now to an eternity?"

"Yes."

And then A coiled into ribbons before disappearing without a trace.

The touch of the lieutenant's steady hand at the base of his back was warm, like the blood (from the man's wounds) and the tears (trailing down his cheeks.) Instead of finding a four-leaf clover, the three-leaf clover found another faint source of happiness within the hold of these arms.

000

B.

He lay in a mangled mess of red and black and white.

And it was here that he saw, aside from the blood and hair and bones (all his), A was in love with C.

They may have lived for a long long while but to him, they had never grown at all. The three of them remained children, brats since when they were first placed into this cage.

A stood without a word at his lips and no regret in his eyes but B could hear his voice screaming in his head. Look at me. Look at me, C. Look only at me!

B smiled as the red spread across the floor.

There wasn't a shred of happiness in this love, there was only a twisted obsession.

Because C was looking at A, only at him. Still, there was nothing but horror in those eyes. B saw the trembling hands, the tears that fell, and the unspoken question on that speechless tongue. Why? And B was glad because he knew that C would learn to leave A with his death.

After all, they were triplets born from the same womb.

000

3.

It was three in the morning when the technology in the house went crazy.

The wires seemed to twitch, the alarms were ringing at nonexistent dangers, and his shades was reduced to a blank screen of static in response to the boy in the next room.

The lieutenant unplugged the devices in his room and tossed his sunglasses on to the bed. He had long since shrugged off his uniform but his frame remained indifferent even without the dark army green.

He didn't need to peek into the other room to know what was happening.

The boy's body was rewiring itself.

Like a childhood stuck on fast-forward, every morning the boy would step out of his bedroom, a little taller and a little older than before.

It wasn't until the lamp on his desk flickered did he stood up from his seat.

The lieutenant walked out into the hall and the array of noise had overridden the usual hum of silence.

It could have been seconds or minutes. The boy lay tangled in the thin bed sheets, caught up in a mangled nightmare at the climax of his growth spurt, and the man stood in the doorway of the opened bedroom, staring but never interfering until his daze dissolved into a daydream. But it was the sudden crash of the falling radio that woke them both.

Ran sat up in bed.

The noise in the house shushed as the machine met the floor.

"Gingetsu…?"

This wasn't the first time he called the man by his name. But this was the first time he found out his powers could go haywire without him knowing. He looked at the state of the room before glancing down at his hands. Perhaps, it was too dark but he was sure that his fingers had grown longer since the last time he had looked down at them.

It was startling but it wasn't enough for him to fuss over.

"Sorry. I must have woke you up."

"I was just working."

"Sorry about the radio. I'll clean up."

He made to get up from the bed when the man paced into the room. Gingetsu's figure was dark and broad but the light from the hallway created a silhouette that made Ran stare. From door to bedside, the lieutenant only needed to take perhaps three steps and by the time he registered, the man had already reached out and pressed him back into the mattress.

"Just sleep tonight."

His head touched the pillow but his eyes never closed. Ran lifted a hand and wrapped his too long of fingers around Gingetsu's wrist, the one with the two-leaf clover tattooed into the skin.

His fingertips could be tracing where the needle had touched but it was too dark to know.

"… Can you stay?"

He couldn't see his eyes either but he could tell those shades were long gone.

The sheets were lifted, the door remained open. The silence was restored, the radio was shattered.

The static in Gingetsu's headset had died down and there was nothing he could hear but the breathing of the young adolescent in his arms.

000

C.

As a three-leaf clover, he knew exactly what a two-leaf clover could do.

So he couldn't help but worry when the third week came by and Gingetsu was still nowhere to be seen. He lay in bed with a suffocating feeling in his chest. It was like a paperweight that kept him pinned in place.

And even though time was something he didn't have, he was patient.

The feeling seemed to manifest itself and as the host, he could only stare at the ceiling. Eyes a murky blue gray and it wasn't until now did realization seeped into his bones. This feeling was the same when A first rested his eyes on the lieutenant, nearly a year ago.

It was fear.

Like A feared losing C to the man. Years later, Ran had learned to fear losing Gingetsu.

He turned on his sides.

Who he saw reflecting in the glass window was no longer C.

000

4.

The year the four-leaf clover died, he only had a maximum of three more years to live.

It was a sad fact that really pulled him beneath the waves when Gingetsu would leave for weeks on end. And even though he would wake up, make tea, do a lonely waltz around the house, it would still linger with him when he planted himself by the windows as the rain fell against the glass.

Like most days, it had been pouring when he woke up. Only unlike most days, he woke up to the smell of brewing tea.

The hallway was dim, shaded by a damp yolky yellow and the sound of heavy rain.

Ran made his way into the kitchen and there, by the stove, was a man without all his army green. And even without words, Ran could see the motion of his hands, the arch of his arms, and the way steam wafted into the rain-scented air.

The lieutenant was making tea.

"You are off duties today."

He ran his blue gray eyes over the documents scattered over the kitchen table as he took a seat with his shirt still wrinkled from sleep. His question dissolved into a statement, like an offhand comment that filled in the silent gaps, because there was no expectancy for a reply.

The lieutenant turned around, a teapot in one hand and a teacup in the other.

There was the faint aroma of sun-dried leaves uncurling in the hot water.

Ran motioned to clear away the table but Gingetsu had already placed the hot teapot on to a document, lined with narrow printed letters, all black against sheet white before he spoke up.

"Just leave them."

"Are you sure?"

"They don't matter."

"…Alright."

The lieutenant didn't sit down, he just stood by the kitchen table as he gently placed the teacup on to another piece of paper, fingertips firm against fragile porcelain.

Ran wasn't quite sure where the other man was looking at because those shades were still in place, like that emotionless stance. And he didn't know how long they remained stationary. It could have been mere seconds or too many minutes, neither kept count of the number of times the hands of the clock moved.

"Do you not want a drink?"

Gingetsu asked and it was rare. Ran shifted in his seat and it was almost like their first conversation all over again.

"Can I have a cup?"

"I made it for you."

He held out the teacup just as he tilted the teapot.

The scent of fresh leaves cocooned them in a frail embrace and it could have been the hot tea on a cold rainy day that made him speak up.

"Gingetsu, when I die," he tipped his cup and sipped at the warmth that licked at his tongue, "you can't cry."

There were no tears in his eyes or a choke in his words. Ran kept his voice steady and even but he never looked up once, not even as he drained the tea in his cup and swallowed the burning heat into his stomach. "If you do, I won't know what to do."

"I…"

He paused with his next words still resting at the edge of his tongue. Ran clutched at the cup in his lap and it may be the only thing that was urging him to go on.

"…I might just have to come back."

"Then come back."

Gingetsu pulled him to his feet and the sudden force jerked Ran to glance up. His eyes were a startled dark blue as he was pulled up to his full height. The distance between them were less than a head apart but unlike Gingetsu, Ran couldn't see the other's eyes.

Yes, it could all reduce to zero.

Gingetsu and Ran both stood still as the earth turned on its axis without them. Their world was sequence of simple additions (a 2+3=5 type of math.)

And even if there was no such thing, they were both willing to start from scratch.

XXX Kuro

I was solely inspired by the lyrics of Clover book 3. Gingetsu and Ran are love.