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Title: White and sins
Author: Paradise_Wolves
Fandom: Tsubasa
Characters: Clone Syaoran, mentions of Real Syaoran and Sakura
Prompt: 019. White
Pairing:Real Syaoran x Clone Syaoran
Word count: 397
Rating: K
Summary: Syaoran views white as a horrible colour
Disclaimer: CLAMP is the almighty owner!
Can't forget the table of d00m!
There was something about the colour white that Syaoran hated. It was so pure an untainted, so simple and able to draw attention without any effort. White symbolized peace, forgiveness, even joy to a certain extent. That stainless colour was a marking for a perfect world filled with innocent people, all kept safe from a horrible world in a clear bubble of pure white light.
White was the worst possible colour in the world, everything tarnished it with the briefest of touch. White had to be kept alone and safe heaven forbid if it was damaged in some way, even the smallest speck would condemn the whole being. White was reserved for the few innocent beings, the few desirable beings which were meant to be kept from a wider world.
Syaoran had always linked to certain people, those he’d eventually shunned and tainted with his sins. He’d once thought of the princess as pure and white before that incident in acid Tokyo. Thoughts of Tokyo should be a sin in themselves, thoughts of the true Syaoran appearing.
Tokyo was where he lost his identity, where all rational thought flew out of the proverbial window; it was where he met the white Syaoran. He was left only being certain that he was artificial in every sense, a clone, a mere shadow and could never be a pure being. He was a living sin against all life and nothing could ever change that. The other Syaoran had been kept from a life; he was left pure and could still be linked to that hateful colour.
There had been books he’d left unmarked, saved from burning in the fires that engulfed towns he’d searched through. Books on clones, writings on how such beings were meant to be pure and how they could live without causing one sin, without staining their perfect white image. He’d personally ripped page after page away from the bindings and cursed the writers along with those who believed such lies.
A clone could never be pure, could never live without sins, and could never be a white being. He’d already proved that after tearing a vampire’s arm apart from the body, after eating a magician’s eye, after leaving his princess crying without a second thought.
White symbolized a world in which he had never been created and the true Syaoran walked freely without someone else’s guilt.
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