Disclaimer: I don't own xxxHolic, as only CLAMP can produce such magnificence. I, SheherazadeSohma, only own the story.

Edit: Forgot to add something in the author's notes; my apologies.

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A Different Side of Me: Epilogue

Yuuko beckoned Maru and Moro to step up and place the tea tray on the table before her as she languidly rearranged her kimono, hands smoothing gently over the silver-gray flowers spread across the dark red background.

"Go to the door now, girls. Our guest should be past the front gate by now."

"Yes mistress," they chanted in tandem.

Mokona bounced atop the chair directly across from her before doing a tumbling dive onto the table.

"Roll, roll, roll, roll!"

The little creature gently bumped into the tea tray, and promptly scarfed down a few cookies with tiny paws and an enormous mouth.

"Do you think it worked, Yuuko? Are April first and Hundred Eyes…?"

"Our guest should inform us shortly, Mokona."

Mokona's ears twitched. "But you know already, don't you Yuuko?"

The witch and her familiar shared a smile.

Not ten seconds later, Maru and Moro barged in, tugging a man insistently behind them by his hands.

"Sit, sir, sit!"

It was a comical sight, this tall, spindly man bent nearly in half by the pulling of the much smaller girls. Fully aware of the situation's hilarity, he chuckled and let himself be led to the scent of hot, fresh tea and a witch's heady incense.

"Well, if you insist!" Then gentleman crossed his legs and straightened his suit coat. "Hello, Yuuko-san and a good afternoon."

"And many happy returns, Alistair Michael Sinclair," she answered in flowing English. "Feel free to indulge in the tea—Earl Grey, your preference—" Yuuko crossed her own legs and leaned upon the table, resting her chin on her hand. A languid pose, but her eyes were calculating. "—and let us get down to business."

Alistair smiled. "Watanuki—oh, thank you dears," he directed at the girls as they poured the adults tea and swiftly scurried away, Mokona bouncing behind them. "Watanuki," he continued, switching to English as well, "presented his song project today."

"The song…?"

"Unwell, as you predicted."

"The result…?"

He nonchalantly slipped a handkerchief from his pocket and started cleaning his pince-nez. "When the bell rang for lunch I noticed a young man standing outside my classroom."

"Tall, solemn, gold eyes that could drill through diamonds at ten paces?"

"I know it was Shizuka Doumeki," Alistair said with a laugh, "but yes, the description is apt."

"What did Shizuka Doumeki do?" Yuuko queried with a tone that said she already knew—and if she was wrong, there would be hell to pay, and she would collect.

"I'm no voyeur, Miss Yuuko, but…"

"Yes…?"

Alistair knew he better get on with it. No use baiting a tigress.

"I left to fetch my lunch from the staff room, then returned to my classroom to eat. When I got back, I caught them in a rather tender embrace." He grinned and slipped the pince-nez back atop his nose. "It was a truly heart-warming sight."

Yuko clapped her hands and giggled in a surprisingly girlish manner. "Our machinations have borne fruit, Alistair! The sweet fruit of romance!" Her giggles eased into a soft, sly cackle. "And oh, what a pricy fruit it is."

Her partner in crime winced. "Don't drain them dry, Yuuko, I implore!"

"If 'draining them dry' is what is necessary to make customers pay what is owed," Yuuko said flatly, delicately picking up her teacup, "then that is what must be done. Balance is everything, Alistair.

"You will be relieved to know, though, that my price has, and will continue to be, paid…provided those darling knuckleheads don't make a mess of our arduous, benevolent work."

His eyebrow rose in inquiry.

"I contacted you a few days ago to set up this school project. I knew you would be willing since I knew it was time to collect on an outstanding debt you owed me."

Alistair sighed happily. "My Isadora. If you hadn't helped me, I'd never have won her heart, and I wouldn't be married and content today."

"Now, the contract between us is fulfilled. As for Watanuki and Doumeki, they owe me for giving them the final nudge to take the plunge, a debt they have already partially paid off by (unknowingly) heeding my bidding and accepting their feelings and each other."

"And if things had gone sour? If they had passed their chance? If one refused the other?"

Yuuko scoffed. "I knew it wouldn't go south. It was hitsuzen."

"...Ah…hitsuzen…" Grey eyes looked at the Dimension Witch over his teacup. "Far be it for me to challenge such a force. But you say it's partially paid off…what must they do to fulfill the rest of their concealed contract?"

Her eyes froze. The normally vibrant ruby in her gaze sharply dulled to a shadowed red-brown.

Besides that, she seemed perfectly composed.

"They must learn to deal with each other—love is not enough if you cannot tolerate your partner's failings and eccentricities. They must be committed to each other—there is a reason your ribbon is tied to a certain person, and you mustn't forsake them."

Yuuko looked out her window. "And they must find happiness. I won't tolerate anything less."

"I thought you didn't do acts of charity, Yuuko," Alistair whispered gently. As though she were a butterfly who would take flight in a flash if too badly agitated.

"I don't."

Her act of generosity was tinged with selfishness, because she wanted them to have what hitsuzen had denied her years ago. The witch couldn't have a happy ending, the only ending she'd wanted…but the prophet and the archer could.

Call it self-torture, call it living vicariously.

Yuuko Ichihara didn't give a damn.

"They both wished for this change, more than they could ever consciously realize. Doumeki simply didn't want to scare Watanuki off, and Watanuki…well, that boy's mind didn't know what he wanted, but his heart and soul knew what they needed—they screamed for it. This subconscious wish-making was sufficient for me to grant them a contract; coupled with my own selfish desires, it was easy enough."

"Can it really be a selfish act, if your primary reason for granting their wish was their happiness, and not first and foremost your own? If you do a good deed and are rewarded with the feeling of happiness from it, is that really so bad?"

"Who's to say their happiness was my primary reason?" Yuko snapped derisively.

Alistair ignored her. "And even if there was some self-fulfillment involved, considering your past, what you were denied…well, it's perfectly understandable."

"It's none of your damn business, Alistair Michael Sinclair."

"It's very much my business, Yuko Ichihara. It wasn't many years ago that you wanted me, even though it would hurt you in the end, because I reminded you of—"

"Enough!"

He couldn't find it in him to be offended. Her cry was as pained as it was furious.

She heard the chink of china cup meeting china saucer, heard the creak of the chair as her guest rose and stepped quietly toward her.

"It's true though. You told me once: I look a lot like Clow Reed."

That annoying, ever-smiling, always confounding man. He never failed to rouse her anger—she swore that even if she went deaf, her fury and temper would react to that smooth, knowing voice. Hell, anyone would be driven to murder around someone who always seemed like they knew everything, who was constantly one step ahead.

Someone who could see the bigger picture, and sacrifice personal happiness for the greater good.

Even if that sacrifice involved forcing her to let go of her happiness as well.

"May his soul rot," she whispered, even as she ached for him.

"You don't mean that."

No, she didn't mean that. Without Clow's death, Sakura Kinomoto, his "daughter" of sorts, would not have come to be, which would mean no "grandson" of sorts, resulting in no Kimihiro Watanuki, the closest thing she would ever have to a son, the living image of Clow himself.

It still hurt like hell.

"You'll have your fair share of contentment someday, Yuuko. You may even have it staring you in the face already, with the people around you, people that your Kimihiro have attracted. Because, my lady—" Alistair knelt on one knee, took Yuuko's hand, and kissed it. "—hitsuzen took your love away. Thus, hitsuzen owes you a debt that must be repaid somehow. And in all things, there must be balance."

Yuuko stared down at this gallant gentleman, red eyes lit again. Not one tear welled up, but he knew how she felt at such a kind statement.

"We've never discussed this…but your name really isn't Sinclair."

His glasses gleamed in the afternoon light as his mouth curled into a smile. Yuuko was struck with a moment of déjà vu; she had seen that smile before on a strikingly similar face.

"No, it isn't. But it's easier to use Sinclair than the prestigious name my family claims."

"I can't blame you." She fluttered her fingers dismissively. "You may go now; I'm sure Isadora waits for you at home."

"May I come again for tea sometime, Yuuko?"

"Of course, Alistair Michael Reed."

The door slid quietly shut behind him.

She absently rubbed at one eye (Watanuki better enjoy his afternoon off—the place always got sooo dusty when he wasn't around—that was what the witch who never cried told herself) and wondered how best to tease her young vassal when he returned for work. There would be untold fun in letting Watanuki know that she knew about his recent romantic entanglements.

Yuuko sighed, and spent the rest of the afternoon thinking of torn ribbons, hitsuzen, and true happiness.

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"I can't believe I let you persuade me to do this."

Thus muttered Watanuki as he stared up at the sun through the branches of the temple's oldest tree, letting the shadows of the fiery leaves wave back and forth across his face, feeling the grass and fallen leaves cushioning his back.

"You didn't protest too much," was Doumeki's placid reply.

"Well, you were coercing me—"

"I was kissing you. Quite sweetly, I might add."

"You were shutting me up," Watanuki commented sardonically.

"That too."

"Idiot."

After coercing/kissing/shutting him up repeatedly, Doumeki dragged Watanuki off the school grounds, leading him to the Doumeki family temple. Before he could fully drag his befuddled head back down to the earth, Watanuki found himself at the very back of the temple grounds, lying underneath an ancient tree, his newfound love embracing and necking with him.

Now, he felt wonderful—sweaty, heated, utterly dizzy and dazed, still trying to catch his breath with crisp autumn air. His glasses had been tossed somewhere to the side, the top few buttons of his uniform undone just as his partner's were. He felt absolutely drunk—off Doumeki's scent, his touch, the soul-soothing assurance that Doumeki was here and all too happy about it—with no fear of a nasty hangover.

"We just skipped half the school day."

Doumeki shifted up on his elbow and loomed over his companion; he slipped his forearm underneath Watanuki's neck, his hand ruffling his lover's hair lazily. "Kunogi will make some sort of excuse for you. Probably that you fell ill, and that I helped you home and stayed to look after you. The teachers know you live alone."

"I'll have to head to Yuuko-san's soon, you know."

"I already heard from her. A note was on my door this morning," the archer muttered, his nose buried in soft dark hair. "She said you had the day off, but I'll need to send a bottle of fine sake with you tomorrow."

He grunted when Watanuki jerked his head up, bopping Doumeki's chin.

"She knows! Oh GOD…!!"

"So what?"

"So what?!"

Watanuki pounced and pinned Doumeki down, his expression outraged. "That woman is a terror as it is! Now that she knows such a juicy tidbit of information as us being together, she'll never let me here the end of it! I'll have to put up with insinuations and innuendoes galore tomorrow! God, why couldn't she be left in the dark, damn iiiiiiiittt!" he howled, his head flopping down onto Doumeki's chest.

"You're…not ashamed, are you?"

He froze, jerked his head back up.

"No! Never!" Panic spread in his mismatched eyes again, but of a different kind. Pale fingers touched Doumeki's warm tanned cheeks. "You twit, I had to swallow my pride to reach out to you. It's a miracle I woke up and saw that you and me…that we're…"

Red stained his cheeks. He jerked his neck forward, like an awkward young ostrich, and hastily butted his mouth against Doumeki's, still a bit nervous and shy.

"That we're tied, you and I. I'm not about to give you up because people always have opinions. It's just that Yuuko-san…" He slumped completely onto Doumeki, resigned to his fate. "…is Yuuko-san. You get what I'm saying?"

Doumeki smiled and contented himself with reburying his face in his beloved's flyaway hair. "Yes."

"…Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Let's get one thing clear," Watanuki said softly but firmly. "I won't say that"—terrifying—"word, that-that 'L' word just yet. To be honest, this is so all so strange and foreign that it scares the hell out of me. But…I will say it. When I'm ready, I'll tell you. Don't ever doubt that I'll say it, Shizuka."

Doumeki's heart caught fire and his limbs ached to seize Watanuki, flip him back over, and kiss him back to drunken oblivion. But he settled for tightening his arms around Watanuki and sighing contentedly against the other man's cheek.

"Just stay with me and take your time, Kimihiro."

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Sheherazade's Blah Blah Blah

Thank you for taking the time to read the (lengthy) epilogue! We have Yuuko musing, Sinclair-sensei revealing quite a bit of his background, and fluff from our boys.

First off, when Mokona references April first and Hundred Eyes—well, everyone knows Watanuki's name means April first. Doumeki's surname apparently has the kanji for 'hundred eyes' within it.

I honestly didn't expect the teacher to be that critical to the story, but that soon changed. I really didn't intend to create an original character, but I don't think he's a Mary-Sue, so hopefully it's all good.

As I think should be fairly clear from above, Alistair Michael Sinclair is a relative of the magician Clow Reed's through Clow's English blood. He resembles Clow quite a bit; they have similar faces, the same smile, both wear pince-nez, and Alistair's hair resembles Clow's, though it's streaked with gray and white and isn't long enough for a pony-tail. He's tall and thin like Clow (well, like all the Clamp characters) and has some magic in him, since he's quite comfortable around Yuuko and is Alistair Michael Reed after all. To what extent remains to be seen, since I'd like to use him again in future tales. Yuuko helped Alistair get together with his wife Isadora, which Yuuko regrets to an extent; he looks so much like Clow, she kind of wanted him for herself, despite knowing Alistair wasn't in love with her and would only be a hollow replacement. It has been noted that there is quite a resemblance between Clow Reed and the occultist Aleister Crowley (specifically their names); so that's how I got Alistair's name.

I like thinking of Yuuko and Clow Reed as starcrossed lovers. It's canon that they knew each other very well (I think of the Mokona pair as their 'children') and I think it would be an ironic situation: Yuuko the granter of wishes couldn't have her own desires granted.

I hope I was obtuse enough in the paragraph talking about Sakura being Clow's daughter of sorts, etc. For those who don't know, Fujitaka Kinomoto (Sakura's biological father) is a partial reincarnation of Clow Reed. Watanuki's origin has been revealed, but I decided to be vague about it in case people don't want to know just yet. It's clear to everyone, however, that there is a strong connection of some sort between Syaoran and Watanuki.

Thank you very much for reading and reviewing (please please pretty please)! For those of you in the U.S., happy thanksgiving!

P.S. If I were to write a story about how Yuuko helped Alistair, would you read it?