White Wings

Disclaimer - I don't own either anime. I also mostly watched the dubbed version of Cardcaptors, and that was many, many years ago. The similarities simply wouldn't let me go.

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"So. Do you wake up like this often?"

Eyes blinking blearily and feeling the warmth of his coat on top of him and the hardness of a bench beneath him, Yukito Tsukishiro quickly awoke to the unfamiliar voice.

"Ah – I – sorry, what?"

The stranger sighed as he raised a hand to his forehead to ward off the minor headache of half-foreign memories reluctantly invading his mental space, almost making him wish for those times a couple of months or so ago when he had just woken up, clueless.

Sakura had apparently gotten herself into trouble again, and while Syaoran-kun had been there, his help hadn't been enough. Vague memories of white and wings in his peripheral vision gave him, as usual, even more of a headache.

These things were supposed to happen to other people, not him. Not that he didn't dislike helping Sakura, but sometimes he would prefer to be other people. Life, he had long since decided, was far too confusing.

Turning to face the owner of the voice, he found himself startled by the younger boy's appearance.

He looked so much like himself. Apart from the fact that he was a few years younger, and with light blue hair instead of light grey. He, too, had glasses on, and there was something in the way that held himself that suggested a sort of maturity that was different to the kind he saw in very many other people. In fact, it reminded him most of his other self.

This boy, who had been sitting there waiting for him to wake up after an incident involving Sakura, which involved wings. . .

Oh, dear. This can't be good.

And yet the boy wasn't panicking or reacting like Yukito would expect anyone else of his age to. He was simply sitting there, calmly if not curious, writing something down in a reporter's notebook every so often.

"I'm sorry," he said to the younger boy once in a more proper sitting position, "who are you?"

The boy looked up, putting the pad away into a pocket.

"I could ask the same question of you," he said in that coldly curious tone that somehow wasn't as threatening as it could be.

"Who? Me? I'm not, I mean, no one special." At the boy's incredulous look, he amended. "Er, not too special, anyway. . ."

"Not too special." For a moment they just looked at each other until Yukito's embarrassment gave way to nervous laughter. "Then I suppose that what I just saw would also count as 'not too special', would it?"

"Eh?"

When in doubt, feign ignorance. That usually got you through when someone started trying to interrogate you about something. Though any and all thoughts in this direction were thrown out of the metaphorical window when the boy took out the reporter's pad once more and showed him one of the back pages. It was a perfect sketch of what he (or rather, Yue) must have looked like just before touching down in front of the park bench. It wasn't just lines, either – the shading and lighting were there, too, as well as what could almost have been mistaken for each and every feather on his wings.

His eyes grew wide as he looked back up at the blank-faced boy next to him. It should not have been possible to have drawn this in such a short amount of time. It shouldn't have been – and yet this unknown stranger had. He looked back and forth between the boy and the drawing. It truly was a good likeness.

"So. Like I said – does this happen often?"

"Ah, no. . ." he said, deciding to tell the truth. There wasn't much point in pretending now, anyway. "Not that often, anyway. I should hope not."

Blue eyes narrowed

"And it doesn't bother you? Not even in the slightest?"

"Well, it used to," he said with a little hesitation, not knowing quite why he was able to speak with this boy so easily about such private matters, "but not any more."

This seemed to both confuse and irritate the boy, who turned away from Yukito with a frown on his face, so that he could only just make out the next words that were spoken.

"Then. . . I suppose we aren't so similar, after all. . ."

Recognising that this boy must be in a situation like his but not as easy, Yukito put on what he hoped was a reassuring and friendly smile.

"I'm Tsukishiro Yukito. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, so please treat me well!"

The boy looked back up at him, blue eyes growing intense for a moment before a small smile threatened the usual grimness. A pale finger pushed large glasses back up his nose.

"Hiwatari Satoshi," the boy said curtly but politely. "A pleasure."

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AN: Originally meant to have more conversation, I thought it'd be nice just to leave it at that for now, as they both have only just met and I hardly know Yukito, and at 19 (nearly 20) the so very shojo-ness of the manga makes me want to gag slightly, so I'm not sure if I will continue. If anyone can recommend me any NON-yaoi stories with Yukito and/or Yue in them, I'd be much obliged, and might take this further.