Déjà vu
A/N: yes, I know that later events in the manga completely disprove this story. It's why it's a divergence, ya know?
Kurogane had been here before, for almost the exact opposite reason.
The last time, he'd been flung from his world, literally kicking and screaming, and deposited onto a wish-granter's doorstep with no notice at all; given up a sword, found himself the most irritating fluffball in all the worlds and the company of the oddest people he had ever known.
This time……he hadn't resisted Tomoyo's spell this time. Had been the one to request it. She had given him one of those even Looks that went right through the rest of him and neatly skewered the heart of the matter; then she'd said Well, looks like our Kurogane's all grown up at last with the most incredibly smug look on her face before granting his request.
Neither of them had said goodbye.
Being here was déjà vu, nonetheless. The tall, slender woman, wearing formal robes and a smile that reminded him eerily of Tomoyo's. The odd little house, so out of place among the towering skyscrapers. The rain falling almost silently around them.
There were, however, three conspicuous absences. The boy, kneeling, cradling the girl in his arms, desperation incarnate. The girl, pale and lifeless, in clothing he had never seen. The man, smiling insincerely, dressed in white, staff in hand.
'You have a wish,' Yuuko said, all traces of the simpering, infuriating, teasing woman subsumed by the full power of the Dimensional Witch.
'You know damn well I do,' Kurogane snapped, straightening.
'What is your wish?'
She was really going to make him say it out loud, wasn't she?
'I want,' he said, his voice clear, because he was not going to falter over this, 'to go to where Fai is.'
'Why?' she said, emotionless, searching.
'Does that matter?'
'It changes the price,' Yuuko said, as if that made it easier. 'If you speak of a simple journey, that is one request. If you truly wish to find him again, to reclaim what you were with him, that is a different one. The price must be precisely the same value as the wish. State your intentions clearly. I ask again: why?'
'Because I didn't want – shouldn't have left.'
'You had the option of leaving when they departed from your world.'
'Which is none of your business.'
'True, true,' she said, smiling. 'I had expected for you to wish for him to love you again as well.'
That smile was so sweet, the words hit him almost physically, as if sound could stun.
Wish for that…? Fai hadn't exactly looked forgiving when they parted; he had had that idiotic smile firmly fixed on his face, and cold blue eyes had looked over, around, and through him while his farewells to everyone else had been almost painfully elaborate. No, he had no doubts that Fai was beyond furious with him, and Fai's wounds ran deep and rarely healed.
It would be easy to wish that. They'd always been attracted to each other, and the mere fact that Fai was still alive after all those ridiculous nicknames was testimony to Kurogane's affections; the fact that Kurogane had seen him unsmiling was proof enough of Fai's. And they had been growing closer, slowly and cautiously but closer, despite all the baggage and troubles and how utterly incompatible they were.
Maybe if they had had a few more months Kurogane might even have chosen to leave with Fai; but they hadn't had enough time, were not yet bound to each other so closely that they could not be pulled apart (or so he had thought at the time) and Fai had been all too ready to accept that he'd lost, and Kurogane had made a default decision.
He had more than a hunch that Fai wa-had been in love with him. Oh, it was an easy wish indeed.
But if there was one thing Kurogane prized, it was honesty – and he didn't even want to think about the irony of that, considering who he'd finally wound up falling for. And this kind of wish, it was dishonest.
'No,' he said simply. Let her read what she would from the statement.
Yuuko smiled enigmatically, and he had the sneaking feeling he had just revealed more to her than he had intended.
'Very well then; this is the price of your wish. You will never return again to your home world. You will never find anyone from your home world; will have no communication with them.'
Kurogane closed his eyes. This was better than the price he had imagined.
'Not exactly,' Yuuko said, that annoying smirk hovering at the edge of her mouth. 'Had you wished for him to love you, I would have had to take your memories as well.'
'I'm not that insecure,' he grunted.
'Perhaps you're not,' she agreed. 'You are sure you want this wish?'
Tomoyo, he thought for a second, oddly panicked by the notion of never seeing her again. The last time, he'd had that much to look forward to, at least; the prospect of going home, of familiarity and comfort; he had wished, after all, and he had paid, so the wish would have come true. This time, he had no assurances.
But the nature of the wish granter was such, he knew. The hell of a perfectly balanced choice, where equal heartbreak and equal gain were measured to the finest level, and in the end the decision of the one who wished depended directly on their courage; how much security they were willing to exchange for uncertain results.
Courage was one thing he had never lacked, and so he nodded assent, and as the familiar colours of the transition took over his vision he took a moment to mourn the home he was leaving behind – of his own will, and that made the decision final.
The last time he had been in her world, he had wished to go home.
This time, as he landed in an unfamiliar place, heard the roaring of a waterfall and saw high, snowy mountains over green plateaus; as a heartbreakingly familiar form turned around to face him; as lovely blue eyes widened with hope and wonder – and anger, and tears – and desperate happiness…
This time, he realised, he'd made that wish again.