Cold wind rushed past his face, causing his glossy chestnut hair to graze past him like knives. Time seemed to still, a heavy, almost relaxing sensation creeping up his paralysed limbs like a serpent slithering in for the kill. His mind flashed, the pain ricocheting out from his back to his chest momentarily forgotten in the vacuum of the world's suspended animation.

Syaoran wondered if, before tonight, he could have made a difference. Perhaps, had he told Sakura his true feelings before now things wouldn't have transpired as they did. He dreamt of the past, visions of the beautiful young girl blending together and streaming through his head as the air coursed over his freezing body.

He wished to turn back the clock, to rewrite history, and protect both of them- no, all of them- from this. Eyes closing, a rueful smile of defeat graced his pale lips, a final majestic gesture of failure. Then pained eyelids shut and shrouded amber eyes for the last time.

If only he had told her before she had told that boy.

If only he hadn't wasted so much time.

If only she had chosen him.