By adriana s (hikari yuuko)
Standard disclaimer applies
Notes:
Written long ago, really; just wanted to share over here. Only Tsubasa fic so far. Set in Piffle world, TomoyoxKurogane.

Parallels
14.03.2006


Kurogane glares and grunts, shifts under her gaze, and ends up looking away. The way she smiles is taunting, like always, as though she is hiding something from him or knows something that he doesn't. He doesn't like how she's looking at him with that amethyst pair of eyes either, so cunningly and so slyly, veiled over with soft satin innocence. This is why it is better to stare at the ground rather than keep his eyes on the slender, long-haired girl.

There's something strange about her clothes that doesn't fit the memory of her in his mind. It's not precisely that she looks out of place (he's actually the one that feels that way with all those things flying over his head, the tall buildings everywhere, and this getup he is wearing). He thinks she'd look better with the silk, traditional miko robes he's used to see on her, though. Her long, ebony black hair also lacks the barrette he'd given her for her fifteenth birthday and that she has worn ever since. Not only that, but he can definitely notice how her soft voice is a decibel higher than he remembers and that her skin seems less pale.

Yes, he knows for sure that this Tomoyo in front of him is not the same princess he knows and has pledged to protect with his life. And yet still he feels the need to reach and touch her, to grab her by the waist and kiss her senseless. It crosses his mind, the thought of her not being her. But what if he does what his instincts tell him to… what if he marches up to her and simply takes her in his arms and kisses her… Would her kiss taste just like Tomoyo-hime's?

Oh, God. He knows, he knows… it's not the same girl who is standing in front of him. Despite what Yuuko has said about finding people in different worlds and leading different lives but sharing the same soul, he simply knows that there is no way to replace the person he cherishes the most.

There is no way to replace the feel of her hands against his skin as they circle his shoulders, the flowery scent of her long, raven locks, the sound of her delicate laughter, her butterfly kisses on his cheeks and hair, or the strawberry flavor of her lips against his own. There may be many women like her in different dimensions, but there's only one Tomoyo in his reality.