tampered | log; incomplete

log; incomplete

When; Tuesday, August 26th; midday or early afternoon.
Rating; PG
Characters; Yuuko Ichihara (

wishyuumay) and Clow Reed (

i_themagician)
Summary; Not an uncommon occurance, a Witch and a Magician getting together to pretend at each other that they have nothing on their minds.
Log;

It was a nice day - one better spent outside than trying to figure out why the network had gone insane. After spreading out the blanket and settling down with the basket (of course there needed to be a blanket and basket), he pulled out the wine and remarked, "Of course this was all a clever ploy to get you away from the computer so that you won't see all of those cruel lies I posted about you until it's too late."

She obliges his comment with a lift of an eyebrow and a small smirk as she settles down onto the blanket, legs tucked to the side and robes arranged around her. "It may be amusing to see just who bites then, won't it?"

He smirks and looks up at her over the rims of his spectacles. "You're almost making me wish that I had actually done that."

Spreading her hands in the universal gesture of "look, they're empty", Yuuko shrugs lightly and says, "Unfortunately, I left my own device at the shop. You'll just have to regret this decision forever and ever, Clow~" Her tone is mock-serious, but the gleam of mischief in her wine-coloured eyes give her away. Then she looks up at the magnificient peach blossom tree that they are currently sitting beneath, voice making the ever-so-subtle shift towards genuine solemnity. "There are those who are genuinely taking advantage of their sudden anonymity today though, for better or for worse."

"I don't doubt it," Clow replies, casually, as he pours the wine. In the meantime he has taken almost everything else out of the basket and is about ready to serve things, but... well, the man has priorities! Handing her a glass, he adds, "The things people do when they think they can't be held accountable. Those words are still tied to them, whether they like it or not."

"There are very few things people can truly throw away, after all. Words are only another type of binding, and like all other binds, they tie people together; not to be used carelessly. I wonder when these children will finally learn the cost of their words today." She accepts the glass, observing it for a minute, before taking a sip. "Every day here is quite the show, isn't it? A microcosm of all that is good and bad and eccentric."

"Likely not - do you know how hard it is to rid oneself of the idea that one cannot suffer consequences for things said anonymously?" He nods, though, and looks up - smiling a little - at her second statement. "I think it's because only the interesting people from each world end up here."

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Then why are those children not here? she wants to ask, but refrains because Yuuko knows the answer as he does. She knows it like the back of her hand, but there are some bonds the soul yearns for that cannot be alleviated by an intellectual understanding of the situation. So she grins instead, tilting her head to the side slightly to look at him with a half-challenging, half-playful twinkle in her eyes. "All people are interesting in their own right, or don't you believe that anymore, Clow?"

"I don't run the City, Yuuko," he replies, somehow answering both the spoken question and the unspoken one as he got out some plates. "Anyway, there's a specific type of interesting person that the City seems to favor. Shut-ins, for instance, are very interesting - but they don't tend to last long here."

"A fact we should all be grateful for," she immediately responds, the familiar smirk curling at her mouth. Leaning over to peek at the food, she steals a sample, letting out a content sigh as she savours it, before replying to his second comment.

"The deities do seem to play favourites, don't they?"

"It's as if you think I'm not capable of being responsible, too," he says teasingly as he serves her first and then himself - dim sum had seemed like a good idea for a picnic, even if it was a bit late in the day for it.

"I do hope it's not so much 'playing favorites' as it is some kind of strategy. Perhaps the City simply needs a certain type of person for whatever reason."

"No, but that doesn't mean I'd leave my fate in your hands willingly either," she retorts lightly as she takes the dish and digs in. "Ah~ never let it be said that you aren't a good cook though~~"

"Why can't it be both?"

"Oh, so you just don't trust me, that's all." To be honest, Clow doesn't know why he said that except to not risk being mistaken for agreeing with her - he's half expecting an affirmation to that statement. "It was nothing," he says of th efood as he takes a bite.

"It is possible that the people the City needs are the same ones the deities want. Or that perhaps some people are needed and others are merely wanted." He looks up at her again, meaningfully, for a second. "... I think I like the second idea better."

"Would you blame me?" The question is cut with several different facets-- as were most of their conversations. It wasn't an affirmation, but it wasn't a denial either. This was their game, after all, and Yuuko wasn't in it to lose it. That fact that they both enjoyed it (most of the time, being the key phrase) was just icing on the metaphorical cake.

"Everything has a meaning, a purpose," she murmurs, tapping her chopsticks against her bottom lip and seemingly completely absorbed in deciding which of the foods to tackle first. "Perhaps it is all of what you say; perhaps it is none and we cannot yet fathom the reason. Perhaps we should just sit back and-" do what we can "- watch the show."

"'Blame' is a very strong word, Yuuko," he replies, intentionally dodging the question. "Besides, if I were really running things the first thing I'd do would be to ask you to rule by my side. Then, you could keep me in check."

Clow seems to know exactly what he wants - apparently the chef recommends the potstickers.

"It's not that entertaining, at least not lately." He looks up at her now with an expression that somehow combines boredom and weight - it's like the calm before the storm, but it's still boring! "Mn, and I don't think it's just ourselves that we must amuse."

If she had her pipe with her, he would have been getting a light rap on the shoulder right about now. "I would be crazy to take on such a responsibility. I'm perfectly happy with my shop and the domain around it, thank you very much."

She considers his choice and decides to go for the shrimp rolls first, feeling the weight of his gaze but managing to ignore it enough to lift the roll onto her own plate with practised ease. Taking a small bite, she finally lifts her eyes to meet his with a small, secret smile.

"The deities. Be careful what you complain of; we may find ourselves in the midst of another storm soon." And saying so, she proceeds to polish off her roll along with the remains of her wine.

And there's a mischevious little grin, there. Have you brought nothing to hit him with, Yuuko? Poor choice on your part.

"You mean you're not already?"

He chuckles, looking a little embarrassed after a moment, and only utters, "Sometimes I think I understand the deities more than I'd like to admit. Not that I want something 'interesting' to happen, mind you, but I'm glad that I don't merely have to watch."

You get a raised eyebrow and a slight darkening of her eyes. Don't think she won't hit you with my chopsticks or something.

"Everything is relative," she chimes, entirely too sweetly. "Thus in present company, no, not at all~"

And then she goes and ruins it by failing to completely smother the soft, "You may not." It's quiet, barely audible, but there you have it. Years--centuries-- of living by the strict rule of her trade can be wearing, after all.

Clow looks down for a second, the smile not leaving his face, but it's obviously his 'I shouldn't have said that' look. He lets the uncomfortable silence linger for a moment before finally replying, very softly, as if not meaning to be heard, "Whether or not a butterfly is caged does little to affect its causing a monsoon."

He doesn't look up, and it's clear that his thoughts, even as he says that, are, 'I probably shouldn't be saying this, either.'

There is a faint urge to reach out and touch his hand lightly, but Yuuko resists as she resists so many other similar pangs in their long history (it is almost habit to ignore them now) and settles for placing one hand on the blanket and leaning back, head tilted toward the sky. She makes a small humming sound in her throat as reply to his words, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

So they sit there, the two of them, one looking down and the other looking up, food and wine forgotten for the moment. Until she murmurs, "A great deal of people associate the sky with freedom. But it is the sky that is humanity's greatest cage, trapping us beneath its magnanimous serene blue and threatening death to any living creature that steps outside its bounds." As with power, she thinks to herself, though she doesn't doubt her companion will pick up on it anyhow.

He looks up, too, then, blue eyes echoing the color of the sky. There's a small sound of agreement, but it doesn't take him long to speak. "We are imprisoned in more cages than can possibly be perceived or comprehended all at once. No one admits it, however; it hurts too much."

That was really meant to be a sweeping generalization about humanity as a whole, but Clow himself is also guilty of such behavior - even though he should by all rights know better even than Yuuko. He's afraid to admit, sometimes, just how trapped he is, even if it should be obvious.

"Very few are even aware of it, save for those one or two fleeting and even then, we living things have the capacity to forget so easily. Pity we only have so much of a capacity for it."

Clow nods, turning his attention back to the area around him. The silence lingered for a few moments as he picked at his food a little, reluctantly. It was a few moments before he ate anything again, and after a few bites he looked at her again with a gleam in his eye, their conversation of a minute ago already lost to his short attention span.

"Yuuko," he says in perhaps not a serious enough tone, "what are we?"

That earns him a sidelong glance, before her eyes flicker away again as she contemplates the question. She knows what he is asking, of course. She knows the answer she'd like to give, but ... she doesn't know the answer she's ready to give. Playing for time, Yuuko picks up her wineglass again, swirling its contents pensively. Holding it up to the sunlight, almost in a toast, she watches the play of light on the surface of the glass and around the deep-red liquid.

"What indeed?" she says, softly and to herself. Then she looks back at him, glass still up and slightly tilted towards him now. "We are colleagues; we are old enough acquaintances to be friends; and we have been that long enough." A small pause, but not to indicate that she is done but to decide if she wants to go on.

"And you, Clow? What are we to you?"

"Friends, obviously," he answers simply, and it's almost as though that was all he had to say, since he stares into his wine for a moment and then takes a sip before adding anything else. "I'm not certain that I'd want to change that."

He looks over at her, then, in a sort of sideglance. Would you? Would things be different if we had been having this conversation a few centuries ago?

"But it's silly to pretend that I never told you how I love you."

Of course, she'd expected no more and no less. Maybe they were getting to know each other just a little too well.

"The past can neither be changed nor denied, ne." It was a response to both his spoken remark as well as the question in his eyes. "It's so rare that we both agree on something, Clow," she continues, a good attempt at a teasing smile on her lips now. "Perhaps it's a sign we should heed." About them continuing to be friends for now, she means. And somehow, Yuuko feels at peace with that; with the decision to be friends. Only this time, she aware of his feelings and perhaps...

"I'll keep that last in mind, of course~ If you keep in mind that, and don't expect me to repeat this: you are such in my thoughts as well."

His eyes widen momentarily before he looks down, a smile - a truly, really, genuinely happy one - creeping across his face. The perfect picture of a blushing bride, if you ignore the maleness and the lack of actual blushing. It's embarrassing, but he can't bring himself to look up because of what she'd find in his eyes if she could see them. He can't even think of anything to say, despite all of the words floating around his head.

He knew, somehow, at least had his suspictions, but--

(How did she manage to reduce him to this so easily?)

When he does look up it's brief, just a flash of clear blue, but it says so much more than he could have found words for. Something to do with commitment - but then it's gone, stifled with a barrages of painful (and recent, even) memories and shouldn'ts and can'ts. But it's there, that bond, that promise that he made with that look, as unequivocal and permanent as if he had voiced it. It can't be taken back, not that he wants to.

"You know that I've no choice but to do just that, Yuuko."

Her responding smile is still sharp, still teasingly smug, but there's something softer about it curling like the morning mist about the edges of her lips. "You always have a choice," she says, equal parts teasing, reminding, and reassuring.

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log; incomplete

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This log is making me want Chinese food. I don't even /like/ Chinese food.

Mmmn, food~

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