A/N: Umm......I have only read up to book nineteen.....so I have absolutely no clue what happens after that....and this probably doesn't fit into the story anywhere. But hey, it's fanfiction. I got this scene in my head, mainly the last part, and I just had to do it.....angst......sad.

SPOILER ALERT!! Don't read this unless you have A) watched the Tsubasa Tokyo Revelations OVAs or B) read the Acid-Tokyo Arc in the manga......book sixteen I believe.

Please review, I want to know how I did.

(this was written quickly....and posted quickly....so please, if you see mistakes, please tell me. I did read through it, but I'm not sure if I got them all)

I could not say exactly how we made it this far, when so much stood in our way and so many troubles attempted to end our lives. Many times, we were close to dying; many times we were close to failing. So close that each time, I could feel the bitter taste of defeat on the tip of my tongue.

But somehow, through it all we persevered. Somehow, through it all, we made it. And now, once again I was face to face with the image of myself.

An exact replica with the exception of the bright, blue eye that seemed to stare through my soul.

Next to me, I saw the princess's eyes fill with worry, hope, and pain all at once. Pain….that was the dominant expression in her wide, green eyes…….so much misery. It hurt me to look at her, knowing that I was the one who involuntarily caused her to hurt so much. Because I had arrived. I had taken back the half of my heart that was in the person she cared for; true, it belonged to me, but because I had taken it back I had ended the peaceful and happy times my duplicate and his friends had shared.

There was something else that I could just barely see in her eyes…..and that emotion almost hurt more than seeing her anguish: Love. It hurt, and I had to rip my gaze from her, choosing instead to look at the others I had recently started traveling with. They too had been affected by my arrival. The mage had even tried to stop it, but neither he or I had been able to fight against fate. What was it that the witch called it? Hitsuzen?

Those on my other side, the others that cared about the one I was prepared to deal with also shared uneasy and worried expressions, though less noticeable than the princess. The veteran fighters tensed, ready for the fight they predicated would soon come.

Closing my eyes, I braced myself and summoned my magic, forming a sword in my hands. My companions looked at me, their gaze questioning and understanding all at once.

My gaze involuntarily drifted to the princess yet again. Her green eyes stared at me with hope; I understood her unspoken plea, but it was something I could not fulfill. My gaze softened, and I placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, princess," I whispered, and her hope faded into pure agony at my words. I almost stopped myself there, unable to bear seeing her like that. But I couldn't. It was impossible; this was something I had to do. Because even though I knew it would rip the one I loved apart from the inside, even though I knew I would be destroying someone people cared about.....I knew that he couldn't be allowed to live. The replica that had been born only to kill and fight and do anything possible to collect feathers for the princess - which, although an honorable and necessary task, it would not be carried out the way any of us would like - had to be stopped....and the only way for that was to.....she knew....they knew...I knew what had to be done.

The sound of her dropping to her knees in defeat reached my ears as I walked forward, towards the unmoving form that stared back at me with his cold, hard gaze. The emotionless eyes sent a shiver down my spine, and I looked away from him to look back at the ninja and the mage. The blond averted his gaze, hiding the sadness he was determined not to show; his smiling mask was gone for once, discarded as his true emotions finally took over.

For the other, sadness was not clear on his face; his usual scowl and narrowed eyebrows took over his facial features. It was his eyes that showed emotion, for they too were filled with worry. His dark eyes stared into mine, and after a moment he gave me a simple and brisk nod. His signal for me to do what I must.

I returned his gesture, and turned back to face my enemy who conveniently had restrained from attacking for all this time. But that wouldn't last, and we both knew that.

Suddenly, and without warning my replica shot forward, charging at me with his own sword in hand. The clang of metal hitting metal rang out in the enclosed space as I raised my weapon just as my opponent's blade shot towards my head. A single second later and my life would have ended.

I moved my sword around his, sliding it off into the open air and towards him, but he caught it with a block just as I had. We twisted and turned, flipping in the air; our swords met each other again and again as we continued our deadly dance. Our staggered breathing and racing heartbeats were our drums, and we - the dancers - each kept a steady rhythm as our swords hit time and time again. The others stood on the sidelines, watching as lines of red were scratched across our skin. Watching and worrying as we spilled more and more blood across the dirt-covered ground below us.

Things all around us were broken and cut through. As we dipped and dodged and swung walls were smashed; glass windows were shattered, causing broken shards to rain down on us from above, their fall drawing out more blood as they scraped against us. The bruises - black and blue and sore - the cuts - painful, bloody, shallow and deep alike - and the destroyed scenery - what the once nice place was turned into as a result of our dance - neither hindered or slowed my opponent, as personal pain was not something he could feel or react to.

I however, was slowing. My speed was diminishing, and all of us - including the one across from me holding a shard, blood covered blade of his own - were well aware of that. My body was suffering because of the various injuries I was receiving. My magic wasn't helping me top my opponent, as he held a good amount - either half or more - of the mage's magical power, and my little skill was nothing of an advantage in this fight.

I was losing, and I wanted to finish this fight, if I wanted to finally end things and hope to give some happiness back to the one's I had hurt so much, I had to do it fast. I knew that nothing good would come of letting my replica live. My attempt to redeem him from his fate, my attempt to bless him with feelings, both good and bad, had failed. He had not been able to receive a heart of his own, though I had been sure he would, and I had to keep up the promise I had made.

I had to finish him.

My opponent's foot slid and I saw it as my chance, thrusting my sword forward. Unfortunately for me, my replicate had the same thought process, and he reached out at the same moment as I. Our dance ended suddenly, the drumbeat faltering and fading fast, as my weapon cut through him just as I felt his sword slice through my chest. My breath caught in my throat, as I saw my opponent falter, his emotionless eyes staring through me as he fell back against the wall behind him.

As if far away, almost as if in another world, I heard the princess scream. I could hear her cries, and knew there were tears streaming down her face although I couldn't see her.

I had caused her more pain.

I had put her in even more agony.

I was despicable.

There was pain in my chest, but I could tell it wasn't from the sword currently halfway through me. I stared into the mismatched eyes in front of me, and I managed to choke out, "She's crying for you." He said nothing, but I didn't expect him to. Something dripped down my cheek, the source my eyes, as I added, "Just thought you should know."

Falling…..I was falling. The princess's agonized cries seemed to grow louder as something stopped my descent. Something warm and trembling.

"No please!"

Someone was holding me in their arms, weeping and crying over me. But I knew it couldn't be the princess, because what I had told my mindless double was the truth.

I wasn't the one she cared for, because I wasn't the one she knew. I would never be.

Just as she had known this couldn't be avoided, I knew that the weeping person holding me in their arms couldn't be the princess.

"Syaoran-kun!!"

Because I spoke the truth. The princess wasn't crying for me.

She would cry for the fake; she would weep for the replicate.

She would love the duplicate and mourn for the clone.

I wasn't there friend. The boy who had smiled and laughed was. The boy who had made one see the good in life, turned one into a teacher, and given happiness to another was. As well, I wasn't the one she loved. The boy who arrived in her country was. The boy who had grown up with her, the one who had become so flustered around her all the time was.

I was just a replacement. And not a good one at that. I only caused pain, because I only served as a constant reminder of what they had lost, what fate had brought them. Everytime they looked at me, I could tell that they didn't want to see me. I had taken away their happiness just as quickly as my replica had once given it to them, if not faster.

In a single instant I had killed the lover, the wanderer and the teacher all at once. No love was gained, no home was given, and no lessons seemed worth it, because I had come and destroyed everything that that little family had once built.

And because of that right now, it wasn't her cries in my ear; it wasn't her breath on my face. I knew it wasn't her heartbeat I felt, nor were those her tears dropping down onto my face.

"S-syao-r-ran…"

Because I wasn't the one she cried for.