Psychotic Psychiatrics and a Very Pink Room

Summary: By stealing Fai's magic, the clone was supposed to be able to go to other worlds and collect feathers. So why was he waking up in this abominable place? And who's this crazy lady with the clipboard? Clearly, something had gone seriously wrong. Oneshot.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money in writing this. Etc.

Clearly, something had gone seriously wrong.

The magic he had stolen was supposed to make him more powerful, invincible, even. He should have been able to transport himself between the worlds, effortlessly, and specifically to worlds with the feathers, as he was meant to.

But instead, he found himself awakening in this... place.

It was pink.

So. Very. Pink.

And if he didn't know better, the walls almost seemed to be made of foam. A spongy material, for certain. The floor was the same. Pink.

The clone simply could not fathom this pink.

This was a very pink room.

Seemingly from nowhere, a door opened in the wall, and then closed. A woman entered. She wore frameless glasses, and her long, honey-brown hair was tied up in a formal ponytail. She was wearing a stereotypical lab coat, and held in her hands a clipboard and a pencil. The clone couldn't help but think she had a passing resemblance to Sakura, except that her eyes were blue.

The clone was very, very confused. So confused, he forgot to attack.

"Good morning, sir. My name is Lauren, and I'll be your psychologist today. I'm here to help you. Now, I understand you are a clone, and as such have no formal name. I can't exactly continue to call you Patient 32359, so I will simply call you Robert. Is that alright with you, Robert? Oh, and please keep in mind that the anklet you are wearing restricts your movements, and magic. You will be unable to attack me or any others while it remains on your person. Understand?" She flashed him a very, very sweet smile. He wanted to gag.

"Hmm." Lauren frowned slightly, making a quick note on her clipboard. "No response? Are you able to speak?"

The clone stared at her for a few moments. Finally, he asked, "Robert?"

Lauren beamed. "Oh, excellent! Progress! Well done! Is Robert suitable? Is there another name you would prefer?"

The clone just stared at her.

"Oh, dear. That cloning process really frazzled your brain, didn't it?" Lauren said sympathetically. "That's alright. We'll get working on that right away. So, what are your symptoms? Why did you come here?"

Robert's... Er, the clone's face darkened, and he growled. "I seek the feathers," he spat. "I don't know or care where I am or who you are."

Lauren nodded slowly. "I see. And these, um, 'feathers,' are they important to you?"

"They are the reason I was created. I need to collect the feathers."

Lauren pouted at him. "I'm disappointed, Robert. Just because you were created to do something, that doesn't mean you need to do it." His only response was a blank stare. "Very well, we'll come back to that. You say you don't know where you are, or care. Well," she cheerfully began (and what a frighteningly quick change of mood), "This is the Tsubasa Reservoir for Injured and Unabled Beings! Here, we're dedicated to helping any people in need of mental healing, for their own good. Isn't that wonderful?"

The clone didn't speak.

Lauren sighed, and made another note on her clipboard.

"What the hell are you writing?" the clone growled.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry. It's protocol that I write down anything important I discover during our conversation, Robert. We file them away in sections we call 'Chronicles.' By taking notes, we learn more about you, and are able to help you more."

The clone snarled, "I don't need your help."

"Oh, dear, a defiant one," Lauren said sadly, shaking her head. "Those are the worst."

"WHAT THE HELL?"

"LANGUAGE!" Lauren shouted back with surprising ferocity.

"Now I don't know about you, but where I come from, we hold ourselves to certain standards, Robert," she scolded. "I ask that you keep a civil tongue in my presence!"

Mollified, the clone could only nod.

Lauren looked stricken, and flinched. "Oh, no! Now you're not talking again! I'm sorry! I really am! I'm new to this and all! It's very difficult! Please, speak again? Please?"

"...You're insane," the clone said.

Lauren smiled sadly. "Perhaps you think so, Robert. But that's why you're here. We're going to fix you, and make it all better. So, correct me if I'm wrong: you show strong tendencies toward violence, and a single-mindedness towards achieving what you perceive to be your purpose: collecting your..." Lauren frowned, and spoke as if pronouncing a foreign word. "Feathers. Is that right?"

"They're not MY feathers," the clone replied, bristling. "They're Sakura's."

Lauren lit up happily, her (so bright that the clone felt blinded) blue eyes shining with glee. "Sakura? Who is Sakura?"

"She..." The clone frowned. "I... She's Sakura."

Lauren seemed curious. "Go on."

"I... Sakura." The clone looked utterly puzzled. "I knew more about her once. But she is just Sakura. My goal is to collect her feathers. There is no need for me to know anything else."

Lauren's eyes widened. "Robert, are you missing memories of Sakura?"

The clone frowned, and his expression went cold again. "I know as much of Sakura as I am required to know. It doesn't matter if I am missing memories or not."

"Ah, denial," Lauren said with a decisive nod. "The first step is acceptance. I hope you recognize that soon. Either you're missing memories of this Sakura, or..." Lauren hummed, and looked at the clone with a speculative tilt of the head. "Are you quite certain this Sakura is real? She might be... in your mind. Your imagination."

"If anything here isn't real, it's you," the clone responded.

Lauren chuckled. "Oh, if you only knew, Robert; if you only knew."

"Sakura is as real as I am," the clone argued, deciding to ignore Lauren's ramblings.

"You're sure?"

The clone stared back firmly.

Lauren grinned. "Excellent! So you're not having hallucinations, or hearing voices. That helps a lot!"

This place, the clone decided, was clearly hell.

"Alright. Now, let's backtrack again. What are Sakura's feathers?"

Again, the clone spoke as if by rote. "The feathers carry Sakura's lost memories. They are also small portions of her soul, and therefore, of her magic, which my creator requires to reach his own goal."

Lauren's eyebrows rose. "So you're collecting this girl's feathers for your creator?"

The clone was silent.

"Well, that's not very nice, is it?" Lauren said practically. "I mean, these feathers are part of that girl's soul and magic. If you're collecting these feathers, isn't that stealing? Am I going to have to add kleptomaniac to your list of possible diagnoses, Robert?"

The clone snorted.

"Now, cooperate, Robert. Is stealing wrong?"

"Not if it gets in the way of my purpose."

Lauren blinked. "Oh... Uh, then what about killing?"

"Not if it gets in the way of my purpose."

"...Manslaughter? Homicide? Rape? Abuse? Arson? Immolation? Robbery? Theft? Assault?"

"Not if it gets the way of my purpose," the clone repeated a third time.

Lauren sighed. "I think I'm beginning to understand. Where did your purpose come from, Robert?"

"My creator," he answered, still monotone.

"That's right!" Lauren said, beaming happily. "And you obey your creator?"

"Of course."

"But do you want to obey your creator?" Lauren persisted.

The clone stared at her.

"No, really, Robert. Consider it. You're a living, breathing thing, You have a brain. You have wants and needs. So why are you obeying this creator of yours? I mean, he's sending you to do his dirty work. I bet he's some crazy old guy messing with science and magic in ways nobody should ever understand. He's created you - this somewhat handsome and intelligent, if rather psychotic and single-minded, being. Are you really any less of a person than he is?"

The clone was gaping at her by now.

"What if you didn't have to do what your creator says? What if you wanted to do your own things? Have your own goals? It's not right of him to impose his will upon you!" Lauren took a dramatic pose, gazing bravely into the distance. "All beings are created equal!" she shouted, and then her gaze dropped to the clone. "Even beings that are artificially created! You are the master of your own destiny!"

The clone was simply silent and wide-eyed.

"Okay, so maybe I am laying it on a bit thick," Lauren conceded, calming down. "But really, why do you have to take orders from him? He created you, perhaps. But can he destroy you?"

Clone lifted a hand slowly, touching his arm, then his eye. He shook his head. "No. He cannot."

"What power does he have over you?"

"...None."

"Yours is a free soul, then, Robert."

The clone, who had been looking very open for some time, shut down his expression again. "I have no soul," he replied coldly.

"No soul? What?"

"I was created to have no soul. Somebody..." The clone clenched his fist behind his back, where nobody could see it. "Somebody tried to give me a soul." He directed his gaze at Lauren, who, despite herself, was unnerved. "He failed," he said flatly. Despite their different colors, both of his eyes were equally intense, and Lauren shivered.

Quickly, she recovered her composure, and frowned at her notes. "That... That can't be right." She frowned. "They WOULD give me this case," she muttered to herself. "Of course, she's the new girl, give her the bloody insane cloned teenager who believes he has no soul..."

"Language," the clone interrupted, feeling a sadistic glee in getting back at her.

Lauren glared at him. "Robert! You're... You're completely right about my language, but that isn't the point. You can't not have a soul! Uh, that came out wrong. Let's put it this way. You obviously have a body," Lauren said, waving at hand at him. (She would never admit that her gaze lingered on him perhaps a tad too long.) "You clearly have a mind - you can think logically. But what the soul does is give you emotions and existence, Robert. Without a soul, you couldn't have emotions, but clearly you do. I have to fight to get you to show them, but you are definitely capable of emotion. You've been angry at me all along for this, after all. You feel something for this Sakura, if I read you correctly. And when I was explaining about how you owe nothing to your creator, you had, for the briefest moment, hope. Those are emotions. And if you have emotions, then somewhere, deep inside..." Lauren smiled. "You, Robert, have a soul."

The clone stared at her again.

"You know, that's a really bad habit of yours. Looks like your friend succeeded, Robert. He didn't fail at all!"

"He..." The clone gaped at her for a while. Lauren tried her best not to squirm, but she was waiting, waiting desperately for him to say something. This could be it! This could be the breakthrough!

Eventually, and incredibly, the clone gave the tiniest, teensiest smile. "M...Maybe I do have a soul," he mumbled, as if afraid to believe it.

Lauren nodded, grinning. "And if you have a soul?"

"Then... I'm free?" he asked.

"If you want to be free, then you are. Unless..." Lauren pouted at him. "You do want to be free, right? You don't want to become some stupid killing machine? Wouldn't you rather do something with your life? Fall in love, or whatever? Make your own purpose?"

The clone blinked, and shook his head. "I... I didn't realize I had a soul, so I didn't realize I had a choice..." The clone winced, and looked at his hands. "I... I did things. I didn't want to do those things, but it was my purpose..." He put a hand to his eye, frowning. "I need to return this. And other things. But first, I need to find Sakura, and help her. I won't kill or steal anymore, if I can help it." He looked up at Lauren. "Thank you, uh, Lauren. But could you stop calling me Robert? I want a different name. A name of my own."

Lauren was outright beaming with joy. "Of course! Is there any name you particularly want?"

"How about..." The clone frowned in thought, and then, inexplicably, he was reminded of where he was. The Tsubasa Reservoir for Injured and Unabled Beings. "Just call me Tsubasa," he decided with a nod.

Lauren blinked, and hid a snicker. Such irony. "Alright. Congratulations, Tsubasa. You're free." She snapped her fingers, and the anklet fell apart instantly. Tsubasa smiled cheerfully.
"Does that mean I can leave this god-awful pink room?"

"Told them they should've done it in blue," Lauren replied, shaking her head. "Yes, you may leave. Have fun on your journey. Tell Sakura I said hi. Don't do anything immoral!"

Tsubasa shook his head. "Nope. Guess all I really needed was a crazy psychiatrist to help me out. I'm fine now. And yes, they should have made this room blue." He smiled happily. "I can remember her now. My princess. Sakura. Goodbye, Lauren, and thank you. I'll never forget you."

The clone could've sworn he heard Lauren mutter, "and I'll never forget you, either, hot stuff. Yum." But clearly he misheard, for by then, he was already disappearing to another world.

Lauren was left alone in the excessively pink and squishy room, where she sat down, heaving a sigh. "Ugh. CLAMP is so going to kill me for messing with their plot," she murmured, and then she disappeared, never to be seen in the world of TRC again.

(Or so she thought.)

AN: This little plot bunny is a bit of a self-insertion, yes, but in my defense, I wasn't the one who came up with the idea. The praise for that goes to my dear friend AbsoluteFluffiness, who mentioned that it'd be hilarious to see a fic where I was in the same room as Cloney, as we call him. And so, I began to write…

Hope you've enjoyed reading this; please review!