Transference

A/N: this was actually intended to be the sequel to another gen fic one-shot I'd planned, but well, this got finished first. And it turned into a Touya/Yuki romance-y thing. The best laid plans and all that. Oh well. And there's another version of this story, which I may post later.

Yukito and Sakura were the only ones with Kinomoto Touya when he died in their home, an act he performed with the same simple matter-of-fact practicality with which he had lived his life. A brief grin, the kind he reserved just for the two of them, a faint curling of one corner of his mouth and warmth spilling into his eyes – and then a soft exhale and inhale, the body relaxing, and that was all.

Neither of them wept, or pleaded, or made any display of grief. They were familiar with death – living so long had left its mark on both of them, and they both knew what an insignificant thing death was, and how easily transcended. But it was a thing to be respected despite that, and they sat together at the bed in silence, each holding one of his hands, remembering.

Yukito was the first to break away. Gently, he stood and patted Sakura's shoulder, and the strongest magician in the world – in more ways than one – covered his hand with her own and looked up at him, and there was serenity and acceptance and just a glimmer of understanding in her eyes.

'I'll be right outside,' he said, and she nodded.

He shifted forms as he left, discarding the false form for the one that felt far more natural, and his wings brushed the doorway on either side as he stepped out of the room.

Touya leaned against the wall, crisp open white shirt, black slacks and the untidy hair he had loved, youthful features and long teenage limbs that his innate athletic grace saved from being awkward; but the warmth and the knowledge and the overwhelming love in his eyes transcended that time and spanned the years between it and the present.

'Oi, Yuki. Stop looking so surprised.'

And for some reason, the only thought that could pass through his stunned mind was seventeen. Seventeen again, cycling to school in the mornings, his side pressed comfortably to Touya's warm back. Seventeen, and the adrenalin and sweat and synchronisation of the football field. Seventeen, and vanishing magic and vanishing strength and the blackouts, and worried dark eyes as Touya hovered over him as protectively as he did with Sakura. Seventeen, and the knowledge of Yue hammering into his mind, altering him forever as Touya's power flooded into him at the same time. Seventeen, and seeing his first ghost with Touya's Sight, and Touya explaining patiently that this sort of thing was going to keep happening, and he had better get used to it. Seventeen, and the magic of his first kiss, and feeling as light-headed and faint as if he had been vanishing again, and oh, how hard he'd clutched at Touya that night.

Touya let him feel it, patient as ever, that wry quirk at the corner of his mouth waiting for his reaction.

'I didn't expect this, you know,' Yukito said, somewhat defensively.

'You should have.' Touya sounded vaguely amused. 'We're not really big on the whole dying forever thing in this family, and you've been seeing ghosts for years.'

Yukito stepped closer to him. 'To-ya…'

'It's okay, really.' The apparent teenager didn't move away, although Yukito could faintly see the cheery yellow of the wall through him. 'I mean, this is practically a family tradition now, what with my father and my mother the way they were.'

'To-ya,' he sighed again and leaned against the reassuringly solid (though not reassuringly opaque) breadth of his lover's chest.

It was too early to have begun missing him, of course – three minutes is too short to miss half your soul in – but this was still a wonderful feeling, and Yukito wrapped arms and wings around Touya's shade.

'Not too long, though,' Touya warned him.

Yukito pulled away, a tendril of panic snaking through him. 'What?'

'Being a ghost isn't really my cup of tea, you know. I'd much rather reincarnate. It's a bit messy, but I think I'd like that better.'

Relief, coiling around and crushing the panic. Reincarnation. It would take time, of course, but Yukito – Yue – was used to time. Time was but a cloak, to be worn or discarded at will. Time was a triviality; there were things it could not measure, and this was one of them. He had waited for Clow – he could wait for Touya.

'You wouldn't look the same,' he complained, and let himself smile.

'Alas for my devastating good looks,' Touya chuckled.

'Oh, absolutely,' Yukito joked, the humour coming easily. 'You don't think I liked you for your brains, now, do you?'

'Oh, shut up.' Touya hesitated. 'Say hi to the shrimp for me.'

'Say so yourself,' Yukito retorted.

'Can't. You're the only one with the Sight now, remember?'

'Yes,' he murmured, a little surprised. 'Yes, I will.'

'Good,' Touya said in that simple way he had. 'And tell Li I'll kick his ass if he ever does anything to hurt her. Or I'll sic his mom on him.'

'Ah, the sister complex again.'

'…love you, Yuki.'

Which was terribly sentimental by Touya standards, but Yukito supposed this was something of a special occasion. 'So do I,' he murmured and held tighter. It was useless, of course; the briefly corporeal body was already fading, but the imprint of remembered warmth and affection pressed through his skin. 'You will…remember, won't you?'

'Don't be an idiot, Yuki.' The light, reproachful tap of a finger on his nose was the last sensation he felt.

Yukito opened his eyes. He was alone again.

Not for long, though. He'd promised.