In retrospect, Watanuki decided, he really should have expected something like this to happen. Yuuko had been tittering behind her fan all morning, and Mokona had been unusually aggravating as well, calling him "Watanuki-chan" despite repeated injunctions (read: threats of bodily harm) for it to stop.

When Yuuko had instructed him to wait at the train station for her special guests' arrival, he had grumbled, but had fled willingly, eager to escape the atmosphere of "I know something you don't know, and you're really not going to enjoy it as much as I am" that emanated from Yuuko almost as palpably as the wisps of smoke that invariably trailed about her slim figure. The plus side of the situation was that she had not requested (read: borderline blackmailed) that Watanuki fetch Doumeki to go along on the trip, leaving Watanuki not only pork-bun-free and psychotic-lush-free, but irritating-infuriating-completely-frustrating-moron-know-it-all-inexplicably-popular-exorcist-free as well.

This was the best day of his life.

Well…at least he'd thought so before Yuuko's guests had materialized out of thin air right in front of him without seeming to attract the attention of any bystanders whatsoever, besides Watanuki himself, who stood directly behind them, and so could hear their entire conversation.

"Well," remarked the girl, flipping her long hair nonchalantly as though she had been standing there at the station for some time. "At least the stations in this world appear the same."

"Hmm," agreed the man standing beside her in a voice that was so horribly familiar that Watanuki's jaw dropped in dismay. It couldn't be—he hadn't mentioned a word to the idiot, and Yuuko wouldn't have dared…

Oh, who was he kidding? Of course she would have. But would she go so far as to teleport that bastard Doumeki out of thin air with her strange guest just to give Watanuki a shock?

Oh, who was he kidding? Of course she would have.

The man continued, in a slightly rueful voice, "Too busy and far too hot for comfort."

The girl nudged him playfully. "Hey, we're not talking about me, here," she mock-scolded.

The man laughed and slung an arm around her shoulders. "And noisy," he teased. "Very noisy."

"Hey!"

Sharing a grin, the two of them turned around and came face to face with Watanuki.

Who stared, bemused and astonished, at his own face looking back at him.

My eyes, he thought wonderingly as those eyes widened, the gold and blue nearly iridescent in the sunlight. She has my eyes. Right down to one blue, one gold. The girl blinked at him, and he nearly choked on a hysterical giggle, recognizing his own expression whenever he encountered something particularly puzzling. There was a slight difference—her face was a bit rounder, her hair longer, and she wore no glasses—but there was no doubt that he was looking at his twin.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You—you're…" Completely at a loss for words, she looked up at the man beside her. Also at a loss, Watanuki followed suit.

And nearly fainted from surprise.

He'd thought the man sounded like Doumeki, and he'd been on the right track. This man was a dead ringer for the archer—if, Watanuki managed to point out to himself, the archer allowed his hair to grow long enough to be gathered in a short ponytail at the nape of his neck, and if Doumeki wore a small gold hoop in his left ear, and if Doumeki had a small scar just under his jawline, and if Doumeki ever dropped his guards long enough to show utter surprise on his face.

And why was Watanuki so aware (read: hypersensitively attuned to) those small changes? It wasn't as if he spent hours memorizing the planes and shadows of Doumeki's face—!

The not-Doumeki grinned at him. "Well, well. Leave it to Yuuko-dono to do something like this."

Yuuko…dono?

Of all the novelties he'd experienced in the past ten seconds, Watanuki found it odd that the not-Doumeki's reference to Yuuko hit him as possibly the most unsettling.

"G-Good afternoon," he said warily, finally finding his voice.

The girl stared at him. "You don't sound like me," she said, sounding for all intents and purposes like she couldn't fathom why he, a boy, didn't sound like her, a girl.

The not-Doumeki nudged her. "Now, now, don't be rude, Kimi-chan."

Kimi…chan?

Oh…Watanuki was getting a bad feeling about this. Not spirit-trying-to-eat-him-alive-bad, but this-is-probably-what-Yuuko-san-was-smirking-about-bad.

The girl (Watanuki's brain tried to classify her as Kimi-chan, came to a stuttering halt, then popped up a blue screen proclaiming ERROR NUMBER 104: DOES NOT COMPUTE) made a cute moue, then sighed and smiled at Watanuki.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but…well, I'm sure you've noticed that you and I look alike."

Watanuki looked at her blankly before his brain finally kick-started again. "Oh! No, no, not at all. I mean, I had noticed as well, but, ah…I didn't think it would be a nice thing to say." Realizing that his comment could be misconstrued as meaning that she hadn't been polite in pointing it out, he went on quickly, "I mean, it doesn't sound very nice to tell a girl she looks like you—that is, if you're a boy! Ah, that is—"

The not-Doumeki laughed aloud at Watanuki's frantic scrambling. "Hey, Kimi-chan, he even flails like you do."

The girl (ERROR: COMPREHENSION MALFUNCTION) frowned at the not-Doumeki. "I do not flail."

"Yes, you do."

"No way. That's so…girly."

Watanuki wondered if he should be insulted. Not that he flailed, or anything…

The not-Doumeki simply shrugged at the girl, waiting until she'd turned away from him to wink at Watanuki conspiratorially.

The girl (WARNING: SYSTEM REBOOT ADVISORY) looked at Watanuki again. "You were sent from Yuuko-san, weren't you?" She now looked vaguely suspicious. Watanuki wondered why she seemed to have doubts only now, as opposed to the moment she'd realized they were virtual clones.

"Ah…yes," he said cautiously. "I'm Watanuki Kimihiro." He bowed low. "Nice to meet you."

When he straightened from his bow, he noticed that they were Staring at him. Not just staring, but Staring. Gaping, more accurately. As if he'd grown two heads or something.

"Um…" he began, unsure of his misstep, but intensely aware of some error on his part. "That is…" He felt a flush rise in his cheeks.

And the girl (MANDATORY SYSTEM SHUTDOWN. ALL UNSAVED DATA WILL BE LOST) began to grin.

It was not a good grin. It was the grin of a tiger that has spotted prey wandering defenseless and alone in a secluded area of the jungle. It was the grin of a shark, of a psychopath, of a serial killer.

It was a Yuuko grin.

Oh, no.

"You're…Watanuki Kimihiro," the girl drawled. Her companion was fighting a smile. She looked up at him, then back at Watanuki. And grinned again, wider this time.

Watanuki felt the blood drain from his face.

She looked back at the not-Doumeki, still emanating a distinct Yuuko-ish vibe. "You poor baby," she crooned. The not-Doumeki lifted a brow, and she shook her head. "Don't you get it? If I'm a boy in this world, then I must have put you through two-and-a-half hells just to even stand a chance with me."

…WHAT?

"Now, now, Kimi-chan," remonstrated the not-Doumeki. "That's not very nice to say with your alternate self standing in front of us."

"Sorry, sorry." The girl—Kimi-chan. KIMI-CHAN—turned back to Watanuki. "Hi, I'm Watanuki Kimihiro. And so are you." She grinned, if possible, even wider. "Nice to meet you, Kimihiro-kun. I can call you Kimihiro-kun, right, since we're the same person?"

Watanuki was unable to find an appropriate response to that—one that did not sound something like "Blugh?" He finally settled for, "Ah. Erm. Hello. Watanuki…san?"

She wrinkled her nose. "No, don't be formal, it makes this whole thing weird."

Me being formal is what makes this weird? Watanuki stared at her. It's not weird all on its own?

"Kimihiro…san." He said it cautiously, as if testing a minefield.

She beamed. "Better."

Oh. Well then. "Nice to meet you." He blinked. "Um. Me. I mean. Um…?"

Kimihiro-san looked delighted with his utter confusion. "That's right. Because I'm you and you're me." Her eyes closed in bliss. "This is the coolest thing that's ever happened to me."

"Ahem."

She fluttered her lashes at the not-Doumeki. "Besides you, darling."

The not-Doumeki rolled his eyes.

She's flirting with him. She called him 'darling.' She is apparently me, and he is obviously another Doumeki. Which means that I am standing in front of myself flirting with Doumeki.

I AM FLIRTING WITH DOUMEKI .

Watanuki Kimihiro: spirit seer, cook, high school student, reluctant servant of one Dimension Witch, and hell's favorite plaything.

.1.

.0.

.4.

"Yuuko-san!" Kimihiro (the female one) flung herself into the waiting Yuuko's outstretched arms, while the not-Doumeki stood by and grinned and Watanuki (the male one) stared with an ominous sense of foreboding.

What made it all worse was the fact that Doumeki—the actual bane-of-Watanuki's-existence Doumeki—was for some reason sitting a slight distance away from the embracing women, looking for all the world as though he'd known about this for ages.

He probably had, the bastard. Yuuko never told Watanuki anything, but Doumeki, it seemed, was a regular gossip magnet. The jerk.

Watanuki (the boy) glared at Doumeki, then caught the speculative glance that the not-Doumeki was giving him and shifted his gaze to Kimihiro (the girl) and Yuuko (the sneaky underhanded witch) instead, the foreboding feeling increasing.

Whatever happened, this would not end well.

"Kimi-chan!" exclaimed Yuuko, pressing her cheek against (the female) Kimihiro's and nuzzling briefly like a mama wolf greeting a long-lost pup.

"I missed you!" (girl) Kimihiro said excitedly, her hands clasping Yuuko's.

"You did?" Yuuko's eyes twinkled.

"Of course!" (Girl) Kimihiro tilted her head to one side. "Things always seem to be a million times more interesting when you're around!"

If by interesting you mean dangerous, life-threatening, possibly seizure-inducing, and sanity-ruining, (boy) Watanuki thought darkly.

Yuuko, however, seemed particularly delighted with that description. "Oh, I'd forgotten what it was like to have someone appreciate me!" She affected a tearful little sniffle and shot a pointed glare in (male) Watanuki's direction.

(Girl) Kimihiro shook her head. "Ah, give him a break, Yuuko-san, he's a boy." Apparently the fact that (boy) Watanuki was a boy explained why he did not appreciate Yuuko. (Boy) Watanuki remained mystified. (Girl) Kimihiro gave Yuuko a simultaneously appraising and reproving look. "Which is completely awesome, by the way. Why didn't you ever tell me I was a boy in this world?"

Watanuki (the male) saw his opportunity to get a word in. "And I would have liked to know I was a girl!"

Utter silence met his statement. Watanuki blinked. Then the full impact of what he'd said hit him, and he closed his eyes.

"So help me, Doumeki, just—one—word—from—you…"

Doumeki merely lifted an eyebrow as if to say, I saw that one coming from miles (and years) away. The not-Doumeki hid a grin, and Kimihiro (the female) and Yuuko snickered together.

Yuuko lifted her gaze to the not-Doumeki's and smiled in welcome. "Ah, Shizuka-kun, how lovely to see you again." She lifted a hand, knuckles up.

The not-Doumeki moved forward and kissed the back of it courteously. Doumeki's forehead wrinkled. (Boy) Watanuki blanched. (Girl) Kimihiro rolled her eyes. Yuuko fluttered her lashes.

"Yuuko-dono," said the not-Doumeki. "Always a pleasure." He let go of her hand and straightened, then threw her a mischievous wink. "Why, if I wasn't so enraptured by Kimi-chan here, I'd toss you on the back of a white steed and ride off with you into the sunset."

To (male) Watanuki's horror, Yuuko giggled like a schoolgirl. "Ah, Shizuka-kun, you do say the sweetest things. But I wouldn't dare allow such a thing, or Kimi-chan might just decide to do away with me altogether."

"Ha," muttered (girl) Kimihiro.

(Boy) Watanuki felt a massive migraine behind his eyes beginning to take interest in the situation at hand.

Yuuko glanced at Doumeki, then said in tones of deep regret, "Oh, but how rude of me! I haven't even introduced you, have I, Doumeki-kun?"

Doumeki shook his head and rose to his feet.

"Doumeki Shizuka," Yuuko gestured first at Doumeki, then at the not-Doumeki. "Meet Doumeki Shizuka." She grinned like a child on Christmas morning.

Doumeki didn't even pause before bowing to the not-Doumeki. "Pleased to meet you."

"You as well," said the not-Doumeki, bowing in return. Watanuki (the boy) could see he was struggling to keep a grin off his face. Well. Good that someone found this entire mess funny. Statistically, someone had to.

Kimihiro (the girl) beamed at Doumeki before bowing as well, her long hair falling around her like a curtain. "Hi, there. Watanuki Kimihiro."

Doumeki did pause this time, just a fraction of a moment that Watanuki (the boy) managed to catch out of the corner of his eye, before bowing to her. "Ah."

Watanuki (the boy) exploded. "WHAT THE HELL IS 'AH' SUPPOSED TO MEAN, YOU MONOSYLLABIC PERV?"

His outburst, far from unsettling Doumeki, only made the archer give him a bored look before returning his gaze to (the female) Kimihiro.

Oh, hell no. He is not going to ignore me to look at her. I mean me. I mean—DAMMIT.

"WHY ARE YOU STARING AT HER—I MEAN ME—I MEAN—QUIT LOOKING AT ME—I MEAN HER—LIKE THAT!" Watanuki (the boy) thundered.

Again, silence fell after his outburst. It was broken by Kimihiro (the girl) sighing luxuriously and closing her eyes with a hand to her heart,

"This," she said reverently, "is the best day. Of my life."

.1.

.0.

.4.

"So what brings you here today?" Yuuko asked the not-Doumeki. They were all sitting in a circle in Yuuko's parlor while Watanuki (the boy) served them tea and assorted snacks he had on hand.

I hope to every deity listening that the other Doumeki's appetite isn't as insatiable as my Doumeki's is.

Time and all thought processes ground to a halt as (boy) Watanuki reprocessed that thought.

Holy hell, I did not just think that. Nope. I didn't. Totally not.

If his hand shook just the slightest bit when he slammed Doumeki's cup down in front of him, Watanuki (the male) attributed it to the wearing down of his nerves and the growing amusement of the migraine, which had apparently decided that a party was a party, after all, and the more the merrier, and so had joined the festivities with gusto.

Watanuki (poor boy) wanted very much to slam his head through the table until he passed out.

The not-Doumeki lifted a shoulder carelessly. "We needed some advice on what to do with those dragon eggs we nicked from the nomads. I think at least three of them are female and one of them is nongendered as of yet, so it's a good clutch." He sipped at his tea and smiled approvingly at (boy) Watanuki, whose lips curved weakly in return. "Problem is they're about four or five days from hatching, and we don't have anywhere near warm enough for them to incubate for this last week."

Yuuko nodded, apparently all too indifferent to the idea of harboring baby dragons. "The usual price, then."

Kimihiro (the girl) nodded seriously. "Right. We'll get the payment to you as soon as they hatch."

Curiously, (boy) Watanuki eyed his female counterpart. "What is 'the usual price?'" he asked slowly.

"Dragon venom," the not-Doumeki supplied, choosing a cookie from the plate. "When dragons first hatch, it's the best time to harvest their venom, because it de-acidifies as they grow older. Once they hit puberty, it sterilizes and becomes flammable gas. Males emit hydrogen, females chlorine monoxide. The ungendered ones don't generally reach any sort of recognizable pubescent stage," he went on, having devoured the cookie and now eyeing another. "But sometimes you get late bloomers who decide about four to seven years into adulthood, hey, I want to be a girl now, or, I think I'd rather be a boy, and then they start emitting the appropriate gases." He swallowed his second cookie, then looked up at (boy) Watanuki. "'S why it's best to milk them at birth; you get the full force of the toxin."

Watanuki (the boy) gaped at him, the teapot dangling from his fingers. "Dragons go through puberty?" He blinked. "Dragons are real?"

"Now really, Watanuki," admonished Yuuko. "After everything you've been through with supernatural beings, is it so hard to stretch the imagination and believe in mythical creatures as well?"

"Well, I—" He flushed, then grandly ignored her question.

Kimihiro (the girl) snorted. "So you've got the problem with the ghosts and demons and stuff too," she said wisely. "Sucks sometimes, doesn't it?"

"Try all the time," Watanuki (the boy) lamented. "Especially because I'm stuck with him all the time." He jabbed a finger at Doumeki, who was to all intents and purposes oblivious to the complaint as he plowed steadily through a small mountain of cookies.

Kimihiro (the girl) looked distinctly amused as she glanced from Doumeki to the not-Doumeki, then to Watanuki (the boy). "You guys are together all the time?" she asked casually.

"Yes," bemoaned (boy) Watanuki.

The corners of her lips twitched. "Huh," she said. "Fancy that."

He glared at her suspiciously. "What?"

"Hmm?" She blinked at him innocently. "Nothing. Just odd, that's all."

Nothing like a clarification to ease the pain of a merry-making migraine. "What is?"

(Girl) Kimihiro shared an amused look with the not-Doumeki. "The fact that you and I both share the same problem, and that Shi-chan and your Doumeki are the only ones who can make it go away."

"Spirit bait," murmured not-Doumeki.

"Ghostbuster," retorted Kimihiro (the girl).

They sneered at one another companionably.

(Boy) Watanuki's glare did not lessen. In fact it deepened. "Why is that odd?"

(Girl) Kimihiro shrugged delicately. "Oh, just the fact that Shi-chan and I are desperately in love, and you and your Doumeki…well…" She trailed off with a smile.

Watanuki (the boy) stared at her, trying to process the words desperately in love with the name Shi-chan and equating that with the repeated use of your Doumeki and the suggestive lilt to the missing end of the statement.

"No," he said, horrified, backing away. "No. That's—that's a scientific anomaly. An—an inexplicable causality. A quantum miscalculation. It's a black hole in the fabric of reason. The gods laughing at me. Hitsuzen toying with me. Negative karma. Bad juju. It's not fair. It's—Yuuko-san!" He turned to her in desperation.

She hmmed at him non-helpfully. "Now that is odd, when you think about it in Kimi-chan's terms," she said thoughtfully.

He made a sound resembling a dying freight train making a suicide dash into the side of a mountain.

Doumeki, for his part, looked up at him expectantly. "More tea," he said tonelessly.

Watanuki (the oppressed) stomped back into the kitchen with the teapot, muttering furiously under his breath about inter-dimensional conspiracies and Yuuko being purposely evil just to show off that she could.

Kimihiro (the triumphant) looked at Doumeki with an interested gleam in her eye. "You deal with him awfully well," she complimented him. "It must get frustrating having to put up with that attitude of denial all the time."

"It is," said Doumeki and the not-Doumeki at the same time.

Kimihiro (the amused) laughed.

Watanuki (the unamused) stalked back into the parlor, snatched Doumeki's cup from him, poured him tea, slammed the cup down, then said very pointedly, "Just because she decided to put up with him doesn't mean I'm going to give in to you."

"Technically it does," said Doumeki, sipping his replenished tea. "If it's a causality like you said."

"I hate you," snapped (boy) Watanuki.

The not-Doumeki chuckled. "Where have I heard that one before?" He smiled at (girl) Kimihiro, who nonchalantly plucked an invisible stray thread from her sleeve and smiled at him winningly.

(Boy) Watanuki turned to Yuuko.

"If your stupid dragon eggs hatch anywhere near my kitchen, you're not getting any alcohol for a month," he warned her.

Yuuko smiled at him. It was the smile of a fangirl that has spotted bishounen kissing passionately in a secluded area of the school library. It was the smile of a viper, of a politician, of a Third World dictator.

It was a Yuuko smile.

.1.

.0.

.4.

O! MA! KE! DESUUU!

When Watanuki came home from school four days later to find his futon transformed into a nest of squalling, hissing, acid-spitting reptilian figures, he paused, stared, thought, then turned and judged the distance from his bedroom to his kitchen.

He decided it was just near enough.