Yukito was no night owl by any sense of the word, which Yue found almost poetically contradictory. As a created image of himself, he would think Yukito would find it as hard to rise before noon or sleep before three as Yue himself did, but Yukito seemed to be far more his opposite than his mirror.

The switch was quick, and as always, Yuki would simply sleep through the night as Yue took his own form. As his wings unfurled around him the stirred the air, billowing his shawl gently. A few school papers on Yukito's desk shuffled and swished atop each other, but once they settled, there was no other sound. Perfect. That's what Yue preferred.

He dismissed his wings; these homes were simply not made to accommodate them, and he was afraid of smashing some sort of brick-a-brack with a wayward pin feather. Yukito was not a collector of much, and didn't fill his house with un-needed clutter, but there was enough. While the body may be Yue's, he conceded this home was Yukito's. It certainly was not his.

With Yukito asleep, the house dim, and the city outside starting to grow dim as midnight neared, Yue felt he could breathe again. He was starting to make this a habit now, to return to his true form at night. It did Yukito no harm, nor deprived him of any sleep, and was the only time Yue didn't feel like he was suffocating, or beginning to develop claustrophobia

It hadn't bothered him so much before; he'd been in a state of twilight sleep for years before the Judgment, and since then, he'd mostly been too weak to notice such small annoyances. With Touya's powers though, and Sakura's strengthening, he almost felt like himself again, at least during the full moon. However, without such worries to distract him, with nothing to protect his Mistress from, with the magical community still and quiet the past month, Yue was simply…bored. Irritated, restless. No longer having such a pressing distraction forced his mind to seek other occupation, and there simply wasn't much available. Yuki did not share his taste in literature nor art. Films didn't interest him much, and neither did Yukito's preferred music. While athletic, Yue felt far more like a spectator when he played these strange sports, disconnected and nonplussed unless it was archery. The only time he had to seek amusement on his own was at night, and then his choices were even more limited.

Thus, his growing irritation.

Back home, he'd have had any number of things to do. He could read, or spend time in the gardens, or practice any of the instruments he was proficient with. Clow would have encouraged him to practice his Japanese or calligraphy, or to give watercolor painting another try, after the disastrous first attempt that had left his hair streaked with vivid pastel colors. He could have practiced his archery or spellwork, even, or playing with any of his brothers and sisters…

And amusement aside, there had always been plenty to do. He had looked after the finances for his Master, done most of the cooking and mending, and kept the house in general good humour. True, he'd had the help of Watery, of Move, Change, Through, and of Bubble and Fiery when they were in a temper to take requests from the Moon. There would have been tea to make or floors to clean or books to put back in their proper place...

He'd have had his Master to serve. A purpose.

His shawl rustled down each step as he trod downstairs, and midway he deftly wrapped the long, cool fabric around his right arm to keep it off the floor.

Downstairs were quiet sounds. A drop from the sink, a clock in the living room, and the slight thrum of the air conditioner, one modern appliance Yue was quite fond of, if he had to admit. He remembered scorching summers spent in Southern China, Kero quite happy with his fat belly pressed to cool, shady grass, but Yue uncomfortable in layers and layers of formal brocade hanfu and trying in vain to bundle his meters of hair up off his neck.

…why did memories of such a hot, blistering August leave him feeling so chilled? Yue wrapped his shawl another time around his arm, pressing the bundle to his middle as he paced the living room. He needed something to do, someone to...to talk to. He enjoyed being alone, but that was so different from being lonely.

Stretching out on the long couch in Yukito's living room, he let the stillness wrap around him, as comforting a companion as Dark herself. He smiled fleetingly at that; he and Dark had been very close. Night and Moon, they had complimented one another in a way only created beings could. He and Keroberos had been created to represent every opposite Clow could think of. Sun, Moon, Yin, Yang, East and West…true, he was closer to Kerberos than any of the cards, but what he shared with Dark and Windy and Mirror and Dream…it was different than the brutal but loving rivalry he had…once had…with Kerberos.

They were all still here. Clow was gone, their home gone, the world they had known changed and covered with gleam and glass and crackling electricity, but they were all here still.

So then, why did they feel so far away?

)o(

When Yukito woke the next morning he had no idea that he had been up and awake all night. Always connected, Yue could just feel his cheerfulness fill their shared body as he stretched, wriggling his toes sleepily under the covers. He would be in school soon, which is usually when Yue slept, for lack of anything else to do. Rarely, he would listen in to a particularly interesting or difficult lesson, but being so many centuries older than Yukito's classmates meant there was little taught that he found stimulating.

'Perhaps Yukito will choose an interesting course of study in college,' Yue thought dully, with an unpleasant image of Yukito happily skipping into a culinary school.

His other form rose, and Yue retreated to the quietest corner of his own mind he could find, to allow Yukito the private dignity to bathe and dress and ready himself for the day. He slipped his shirt on, and tucked his uniform jacket under his arm to toss across a chair downstairs as he set about making for himself a breakfast Yue would have once cooked for his family of three. He sang to himself softly as he chopped peppers for an omelet, a tune Yue didn't recognize but also paid very little attention to.

"I wonder if you like to cook, Yue?"

…Now that, he paid attention to. Yukito had picked up this.. …sometime in the past month or so. It was often, not every day, but every so often he would speak to Yue as though he knew he was listening. Which, he was, but Yue knew all Yukito knew of him was that he existed, he was magical, and had helped to create him. He didn't know what Yue looked like, his personality, nothing as far as Yue knew. He must not have been all that interesting a topic. He was glad to keep his privacy, but at the same time, it wounded his pride, a bit, to think Yukito wasn't even SLIGHTLY curious.

Or…perhaps he was, but far too polite to intrude and snoop. He didn't know, and didn't much care. He did not answer Yukito, and wouldn't have, even if he could.

)o(

Touya was becoming an even more frequent guest at Yukito's home, just as Yukito was spending more time at Touya's. Yue could feel why. Aside from the deep love Yuki had for Touya, there was also a welling bubble of tar darkening his otherwise unblemished and happy existence.

Yukito was alone. His grandparents were not real. His memories were nothing but fairytales Yue had written to sooth him to sleep. Birthday parties, childhood friends, barely remembered parents; none of them had ever actually existed. Yukito was simply THERE one day…while Yue was not one to intrude on Yukito's more private thoughts; it was difficult to shut out everything, or even most things, especially when they held a very deep weight. He could, on many afternoons, feel a depression come over Yukito as he walked home, either from school or, more often than not, from the Mistress's house. School kept him busy. Time at the Kinomoto household offered a distraction, companionship, and a family.

It wasn't as if Yukito wasn't use to an empty home. After all, technically, his grandparents had never been there. The house had always been empty. There were never really any postcards from Hong Kong or Dubai or Seattle. None of the momentos around the house belonged to real people. The clothes than hung in the closet across the hall had never been worn. Everything was simply an elaborately set stage.

Yue could feel for his other self, then. Feeling the droop in his step, the thought of being all alone, of having not one soul to call family, how deeply must that alone cut through a man? Not to even begin grappling with the notion that he himself was not truly real…

Yukito had not been thinking too terribly much on that. Unlike Yue, Yukito was very good at overcoming negative pulls. Not simply blocking out memories or ignoring them, but simply…it was as though Yukito were wrapping those painful thoughts carefully in tissue and putting them aside until he was ready to feel them, to face them.

Yue couldn't do that. He could repress and deny and refuse, but he could not act calmly with his hurts, nor with his joys. He felt everything whenever they damn well wanted to be felt. Of course, acting on those flooding rushes of emotion was a separate battle, and one that Yue had stained his armor with countless times. A warrior of stoicism and denial. Perhaps it was telling that The Lock was a moon ruled card. No one could keep to himself as well as Yue.

"…I suppose I'm not really alone though, am I, Yue?" Yukito's voice echoed through the conspicuously empty entrance hall. "I always have you. You don't say much, but I like to imagine you're a good listener…I suppose even if I get lonely, I won't ever really be alone."

'If you call passively listening to the both of us suffocate being a good listener, I suppose I am.'

)o(

Heey y'all, I'm back to writing CCS it seems. It's...gonna be unusual though. My headcanons have changed so much since my last spurt of fics. Hope you enjoy