I realized at yesterday's quiet night
That even if I pick up the fallen petals
The flower won't bloom back to its original form
It's small, but it's already dead in my hands
Our time is frozen still

'Just Be Friends"Megurine Luka

He peeked over her bare shoulder to kiss her cheek and she withdrew.

Clow moved back and sat up on the bed, staring at her, or rather staring at the white blur that her shoulder was, as well as the shadow of her tangled raven hair. One of the disadvantages of myopia, even at those times when she allowed him to show his affection (Or lust, as the Dimensional Witch stubbornly called his feelings for her) he wasn't blessed with the vision of her glorious face during their encounters…though, of course, nothing farer from his mind on the past years, when he had been banned from even thinking of her without feeling overthrown by his own selfishness and stupidity.

This had been the first time since he had thoughtlessly made an unnatural wish that she had allowed him to. This time either the alcohol, or their own unuttered feelings, or guilt, or God knows what had pushed them together, embracing fiercely, biting each other's lips, breathing heavily. In between arriving to his bedroom, he'd managed to open his eyes and look into hers and all he saw was the woman he'd broken the laws of nature for, silently asking for him to show her how nothing had changed. And he obeyed; perhaps because he needed to prove it to himself too.

His skin was still warm and it would take a while for that incredibly old heart of his to return to beat at a normal speed, yet, her skin was only slightly warmer than usual and only her raspy, quick breathing betrayed what had just happened.

The truth was bitter and unavoidable: Everything had changed.

He hadn't expected her to let him do his will when he had propped himself up on an arm to press his lips against her face –it would have been too naive from him. He had expected a harsh elbow hitting his stomach, a fist hitting his nose, a kick on an especially sensitive part of his body or something of the sort; such where the costumes of the lovely lady, but the coldness, the aloofness Yuuko displayed by simply moving away from him, as if his contact repulsed her…it hurt beyond words, even when he knew she had all the right to act like that.

"You hate me" he finally said, as he turned to the night-table to take his glasses and put them on. The world regained its shape, and so did her body, lovely as ever under the messy sheets. The pearly shoulder, the slim arm, the tempting hips; and just because everything seemed so unreal, he reiterated "You hate me, Yuuko"

She didn't answer, when a few years before she would have immediately said "Of course I do, dumbass" Clow was flooded with frustration. The witch had chosen the best moment ever to become quiet as her alias indicated.

"If you hate me, then why…?!" Clow asked, his hands clasping on the sheets on frustration, the thought that maybe she had just allowed him to make love to her to prove him what he had done eating its way into his mind "You hate me so much you have to show me just how much I changed you?! "

Yuuko finally saw fit to turn to him, but still didn't say a thing. Her eyes where accusing enough, though. Those were the same tired and disappointed eyes she had pinned on him right after he got his wish of holding her back from death's grasp, when breathing with effort and shivering, she had at last managed to utter "What did you do, Clow?" and he was too dumbfounded to say anything, and too happy to hear her voice to regret what he had done even the tiniest bit. Of course, regret had reached him not long after, but to see her moving and talking and drinking and still by his side lessened it just a little.

But this time, seeing her, being pierced by the red ice of her gaze was too painful to be eased. And knowing he'd done that to both of them –Yuuko and himself- made everything worse. The death he already felt crawling his way seemed too much like a merciful end in comparison with seeing that look on her face.

Yuuko turned his back on him and sat up, muttering something he didn't understand. As the silence stretched between them, she seemed to grow impatient at his lack of answer, her fists clenching.

"I'm broken" she finally repeated, in a higher, yet calm voice, her shoulders shaking "I'm broken"

It took half a minute for Clow to let the words reach his understanding. By then, her whole body was quivering badly, and if it hadn't been for the fact that it was something absolutely unlike Yuuko, he would have thought she was about to cry. The thought alone was enough to break him too. His heart, his whole body suddenly called for her, cold, unreal, unnatural as she was –what did he care?! She was still Yuuko!- and he reached out for her, wishing more than anything that he'd been strong, that he'd been selfless, that he'd been smart.

Perhaps he had saved her from death –only temporarily, he reminded himself with a hint of bitter hope- but not losing her to death had meant losing her to his mistakes. He had turned her into a crime against all the things she'd ever believed in, and he couldn't even apologize to her. Perhaps if he could hold her close to his own body, close to his heart, she wouldn't feel as broken…perhaps if he could tell her –again, and again, and again- that it hadn't been his intention, that he had only wished for a moment that she would open her eyes again, she would allow him to heal the wound he had made. Perhaps if he showed her that he was broken too, she would find some solace in sharing the pain.

But before he could even brush her skin with his fingers, she moved away from him and towards the door as fast as the sheets wrapped around her body allowed her, but she stopped at the doorframe, resting her hand and forehead against it, and he could see the delicate form of her nape and back through the curtain of her hair, like an unreachable star on an endless night.

"I'm broken" she repeated "But don't want you to try and pick the pieces, because it was you who broke me to begin with"

He froze where he was, half rising from the bed, ready to go after her and make her listen to him. Bitterness filled his mouth and he couldn't help but grinning sarcastically.

"If you really think that, then why…?!" he began thinking that her kisses and caresses had been anything but false just a while ago.

"Because I wanted to see if something could be saved" she replied coldly, scratching the door frame distractedly. That erased the smile off his face and turned it into a grimace.

"And…?"

But she didn't answer and continued to scratch at the wood with her long and pale index finger. He couldn't see her face, but he knew she had a pensive expression, and it was likely that she had already forgotten he'd asked anything, lost in her train of thought.

"A broken china doll can be mended easily" she said suddenly "All it takes is a little patience, glue, and all the pieces. However, a broken person is an entirely different matter"

Yuuko had always been one to speak in riddles, but Clow found horrible that she had decided to do so on such a moment, the more because he knew why she had chosen china dolls for her metaphor: He had turned her into a doll, a beautiful doll that would never age and yet, would always feel old. A porcelain figurine that despite her fragility would only break when not needed anymore.

"I can try" he whispered through his dry throat "I can try to mend…" he couldn't bring himself to say 'You'.

"And you will fail" she replied, arching an eyebrow, daring him to respond to that.

"You don't know that" he said, cringing once the words had left his lips, once he realized what he had said.

"Don't I?" she hissed. However, she lacked the energy, the spark of the old Yuuko. Clow went silent, getting the message. Everything he tried to mend ended up even worse.

"But I can't hate you" Yuuko said, her voice finally allowing itself to quiver…just a little.

His blue eyes turned to her, with far too much hope lighting them. Once upon a time, a lifetime ago, any of his gestures that seemed too hopeful annoyed her to no end and resulted in a fire breathing Yuuko throwing everything that fell into her hands to him while the mage laughed merrily, but now it only made her feel tired and twice as old as she already was, which was very, despite her eternally young appearance.

"Even if I can't forgive you for turning me into something that can't be a part of anything, even if I try, I can't hate you"

"Yuuko" he breathed out, and it was almost enough to make her run away from him, something she had never considered before. But she was too tired of this; she was too tired of dealing with his guilt and his caring -she had enough pain with her own, thank you- and trying to pretend nothing had happened. All she wanted for the moment was not to think of the way making love with him felt before she had changed, not to think of how she was precious enough to make him have an unthinkable wish, not to think that even if she knew all about that man, it still wasn't enough to forgive him or hate him. And so, she let the façade fall and let the words she had been holding spill from her lips:

"I am not a complete anymore. I am not myself anymore. I am not dead and I am not alive. I am not the person you wished for that day either…"

"Don't…" muttered Clow, but the wave couldn't be held back anymore.

"Now I only know what I'm not…as to what I am…well, it might take me a couple of centuries to figure that one out. What I do know is, no matter how hard I try, I can't hate you for turning me into…" she looked at herself (The white hands, the cold arms and shoulders, the weightless body) "This"

As she saw him raise his head, she closed her eyes, not really wanting to see that stupid, hateful guilt and remorse in his face again, not feeling able to stand it on the least anymore.

"Yuuko….Yuuko…" he was whispering again, more towards himself than towards her, almost like praying, almost sobbing. As though he were finally bringing himself to mourn her.

"But, do you know how I came to the conclusion that I am truly broken?" she said, softly, knowing that saying that was probably the equivalent of rubbing salt against his wound. Her eyebrows twitched over her closed eyelids "…it was because, hard as I try, I can't feel the way I did before either"

There. I said it.

And before Clow could reach her, talk to her, touch her, promise her, Yuuko left the room as quickly as her numb, dead, doll legs could allow her, not stopping until she was certain he wasn't following.

Later, she would be the one to return to him, pretending the conversation hadn't happened, pretending she didn't notice his puffy, red eyes or the way he had to leave her every couple of hours because the weight of his actions was crushing him. She would laugh with Cerberus, tease Yue, drink sake and bicker with him like they did back on the time when she didn't feel like an abomination; before he broke all the rules, before his strength proved too weak and his power too great.

After all, pretending is what dolls are for, and for the sake of their game she would remain with a painted smile on her ageless face.

C.C. (A) The Author here. Another transference from my DA account.

Yeah, I used to be pretty big on Clow/Yuuko. Not so much anymore, but this is pretty good so I kept it.

Comments would be lovely