Author's Note:

The first drabble is pretty dark. You've been warned.

7. Melon

Yuui watched his twin step off the ledge.

"Fai!" The hoarse wail sounded like the scrape of bloody fingernails on ice-locked stone.

His brother tumbled through the air, smashing into the side of the tower on his way down. A lake of crimson spread out from his down-turned face, staining his matted curls and soiling his tattered shirt. But it wasn't the blood that turned Yuui's stomach. Blood was a familiar friend to him after his frantic attempts at scaling the walls. It was the sound Fai made when he hit the ground.

A sound like an overripe melon bursting.

8. Kiss (200 words)

The others watched him run to the castle, sweat pouring down his skin as he rushed to see the princess again.

She waited for him in the foyer, hands folded regally in front of her. All pretenses of civility vanished when she saw his face. She broke into a run, her pink and white dress rippling behind her like waves—the same way she'd always greeted him before he'd turned back time.

He scanned her face for signs of illness or distress. Being away from her for months at a time made him anxious. But she seemed to be in perfect health—fit enough to tackle him to the ground. "Syaoran!"

"It's good to see you," he said, wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her into a hug. She pulled away.

"What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly afraid.

"Nothing's wrong. I just . . . have something to give you, that's all."

"Really?" He half-sat up. When she didn't move, his body went still.

She looked at him, cheeks burning pink. Then, too quick for him to react, her face came forward and her lips pressed against his.

"Welcome back, Syaoran."

He smiled in relief. All was right in the world.

9. Who are you?

One face, closer than the other two, drew her immediate attention.

He was beautiful. His cheekbones sat at the perfect angle. His hair, disheveled and damp, framed his face in such a way as to draw attention to his eyes. And his eyes were . . . What? she wondered.

Arresting. Compelling. Overflowing with joy. But behind them, there was turmoil, anxiety, fear. They were the kind of eyes that made her want to know what had happened to him. Who he was.

I have to know your name, she thought. So she asked.

"Who . . . are you?"