A/N: This was written in response to Gisho's request for a fic involving how Chii came into existence. Writing pre-Tsubasa Fai simply kills me dead… I wish CLAMP would go ahead and divulge at least a few secrets about his past.XP Maybe then we could get his characterization right.

CLAMP is the rightful creator of Tsubasa's characters and I own none of them. I merely obsess over them.

Rekindled

He helps her out of the shallow pool, thin yet firm hands grasping her own. Her palms are soft and delicate as though they've never known hardship or touched a day of work before. They haven't. Freya's hands were soft as well (he remembered), but the tips of her long fingers had hardened over the years after pricks from her needlepoint (he remembered that too, but decides that it is unimportant).

She steps out of the water gingerly, swaying slightly on unsteady bare feet. Her limbs are pale and smooth, her shoulders narrow and gracefully curved like carved ice. Freya always wore dresses with low necklines to accent her fine collar bone, hoping that the men who came for tea would take notice and compliment her on her fine figure. She lacks Freya's grace and poise (he knows, but she will learn), and Fai lightly steps out into the pool to catch her before she can fall into the icy water that laps rhythmically against his ankles.

She is very pretty, and he half-smiles as he admires his handiwork. Soft hair falls in sheets over her shoulders, spilling past her ankles and across the cold marble floor. Its honey wheat color is the same as Freya's, as his, and he wonders if perhaps they ought to cut it to make it more manageable. He'll leave that for her to decide.

Master Mage Clef will probably have his head for this, lecturing him on how he still has a lot to learn about order before Ashura-ou will even consider appointing him head mage. The High Priestess Arashi will most likely be out for blood as well, or at least enough to spill in a sacrificial offering to the gods who might feel as though Fai is treading on their rights and privileges. Wizardry is a risky business, full of rules and regulations, wards and warnings. Up above the drifting clouds, it is easy to fall into step with the laws of witchcraft while forgetting the guidelines of normal society. Ashura-ou's castle is cold and detached, and sometimes he fears that his heart is turning as silent as its great stone halls. He worries that he is no longer who he once was, lost somewhere past the whirlwind snowfall and biting cold of the seasonless sky.

There is no confidant here, no Freya within the palace walls, no sister to keep him company as she had when they were children under their mother's roof. When they had stretched before the fire on the chaise longue, she studying her calligraphy and he his magic. And when their work was done, they would bask in the fading warmth of the dying embers and simply talk. Her voice was light and comforting as they would speak of the snow, of books, or in hushed voices of the time when they would both be taken away to start their new lives. Perhaps she was already engaged to a nobleman; everyone had always talked about what a charming girl, what a sweet and pretty and educated young lady Miss Freya was. But she had long since vanished like the almost-forgotten memories of a warmer childhood, and three years was a long time to feel so very lonely.

Pulling his musings back to the present, Fai realizes that Ashura-ou will be wondering where he's gone. He guides the confused yet obedient young girl to an ornate chair, and Fai figures that he ought to soon confess what he'd done. That he'd transmuted the pet cat that the king had given him into an exact copy of his sister. Well, not quite exact. The girl tilts her head to gaze wondrously at the arched ceiling, and Fai strokes the furry ears that protrude from between fine strands of hair. He hadn't quite gotten it right. The ears are an easy tip-off. Her eyes are wide and brown rather than narrow, heavy-lidded, and blue. But no matter; he hadn't wanted a replacement sister, merely a companion as Freya had once been. And Chii really was such a very good cat.

"Sir?" Chii blinks slowly and twists her tiny fingers around the flowing fringes of her white dress.

"Fai," he corrects her gently.

She blinks once again, taking in this new information and committing it to a memory that is as clean and blank as her vacant expression. "Fai-sama," she replies. He lifts one hand to rest on her head, and she smiles sweetly up at him. "What would you like me to do?

Such a good cat. Girl. "Well," he drawls, closing his eyes and stretching his mouth. "I would like you to stay here."

"With you?"

"Yes, Chii, with me. I want you to be my assistant." At her confused expression, he continues slowly. "I made you with my magic, and so you have some inside of you as well." Chii's eyes widen slightly and she wrinkles her nose in the exact way that Freya used to when she was trying to recall her flower arrangements.

"Does Fai-sama like Chii?" she asks tentatively. When he nods in response, she leans forward and wraps his thin arms around his shoulders, purring softly as she rests her head against his chest. Fai sighs and continues stroking her hair, and the world seems just a bit warmer than before.