The assistant manager didn't find the situation as amusing as the witch did. "Please, just go away!" he moaned, waving his arms toward the door. Yuko paid no attention to this and stalked closer toward him.

"That's hardly the polite reaction I'd come to expect from you, Wa – "

"This isn't a joke! This is very serious! Please, miss, I don't need any trouble in my life right now."

"Why would you say that?" Yuko placed her hands on her hips.

"Because you always mean trouble!"

"Where would you get an idea like that?"

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. "Where do you think?"

"Hm! If you former master used to talk about me like that behind my back, he was even more insolent than I thought." She frowned, and the man hastened to try and improve her mood, remembering the occasion he had seen her angry.

"No - he never said anything like that - exactly, but you did have a way of showing up just before things got bad. Right up until – " He realized he should have planned his words more carefully before he spoke.

"Right up until his death?" Yuko finished sweetly, reaching out a hand to touch the man's shoulder, and he shut his eyes, thinking he was really in trouble now. "Let me clarify things for you – I was not responsible for his death."

"Not directly, of course not, no," the assistant manager babbled. "But if you hadn't gotten him mixed up in that whole mess in the first place he'd still be alive."

"Would he?" Yuko asked, her eyes distant. "He might have been run over by a car the next day, or killed by a madman, or felled by a fatal disease. If it was his time to die, he would have died no matter what I had done."

"See, that's another thing," the man continued, scrambling to reclaim his mental foothold. "You're always on about this 'hitzusen' stuff. I just don't buy it."

"You don't? Why doesn't that surprise me?" Yuko removed her hand from the man's shoulder, much to his relief, and made a dismissive gesture. "That is not the primary issue at the moment, though I'm sure we'll return to it at another time. I will repeat myself for one last time – I was not responsible for the death of Clow Reed. You and I both know that Fei Wong was behind that – " the man looked around desperately, but there seemed to be no one who could have heard that treasonous, though true, statement. " – Oh relax, no one can hear us. I've made quite sure of that – where was I? Clow would have gotten into 'that mess' even without me. My involvement merely served to make sure that things did not turn out as badly as they could have."

He stared for a moment. "How could things have gone worse?" he gasped. "They all died, or most of them did, and they didn't accomplish anything."

"They didn't?" the witch raised an eyebrow. "That's news to me."

"I don't suppose you're going to explain that to me," he sighed.

"Nope!" she answered cheerfully. "Or, not at the moment. You need to do something for me first." Before he could grumble that of course there was something she wanted him to do, she snapped her fingers directly in front of his face, startling him and making him stumble back so quickly his glasses nearly fell off. "Some friends of mine need your assistance."

"Why me?" he said, almost keeping the whiny tone out of his voice.

"I'm sure it hasn't escaped your attention that there are precious few magic users left in Japan, especially not in the city of Nihon."

"Yes, and it's a real shame, but if you make me do something stupid and I get killed, there will be even fewer. We're an endangered species, and you're supposed to protect those, not throw them into the line of fire."

Yuko laughed. "You're rather adorable when you get upset. Just like a big spoiled child."

"Gah! Don't you ever listen to anything anyone says?" he threw his hands in the air, irritation overruling fear-induced respect.

"Oh, I listen to everything. I just don't bother responding to it," she replied coolly.

He turned and banged his head into the nearest wall. "I'm just doing my best to get by. I don't ask for anything special," he said to no one in particular. "I'm not even such a bad person, really. What did I ever do to deserve this woman's meddling interference?"

"Got yourself apprenticed to Clow, for one thing," Yuko said.

"Yes, that," he grumbled. "I was just an orphan with some magic ability who thought that I was lucky to get an apprenticeship with such a talented and well-respected magician. I didn't realize that I was getting thrust into the middle of political scheming and assassinations and wild accusations! Which I think is where youare trying to put me back, so please understand if I'm less than enthusiastic about seeing you again after three years."

Yuko watched him in apparent fascination until he paused to breath, then raised an eyebrow. "Are you finished?"

He nodded, not quite trusting his voice enough to speak.

"Good. I do not, in fact, want to get you involved with, as you put it, 'political scheming and assassinations and wild accusations.'" He looked relieved, and she savored the moment, wondering exactly how horrified he would look when she told him what she was really planning. She lit a cigarette and decided she'd gotten his hopes up for long enough. "I want to get you involved in a revolution."

She wasn't disappointed. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he sputtered incoherently.

She smirked. "There's a difference, really."

"Not to me! They both end with me being killed."

She narrowed her eyes. "Who's to say that the other scenario doesn't?"

He paled. "Are you threatening me?"

"No."

"Blackmail?"

"Nothing so crude," she sighed. "I was merely attempting to appeal to your sense of civic duty."

"I lost that they day they killed Clow Reed."

"I was afraid you might say something like that."

"Then why come here? Why waste your time?"

"Watanuki," she said sternly, and he didn't even bother to object to her saying his real name. If anyone could hear them, he was already a dead man. "I never waste my time."

"Well, you are now," he replied stubbornly. "I'm not getting involved in your revolution."

"It's not my revolution, you know." She exhaled extravagantly.

He waved the smoke away, coughing. "Oh, that makes it better, does it?"

"I don't suppose a revolution belongs to anyone, except maybe the people, so it is most definitely not mine," she mused. "If you were to say it was someone's, you could call it Tomoyo's."

He paused at the vaguely familiar name. "Tomoyo...Tomoyo-sama? The Duke's sister?"

"The Duchess of Edo, yes. I didn't realize you knew her."

"I don't, but I met the Duke once...the former Duke, I should say."

"Ah, yes. Clow used to have so many visitors, so many friends at court. Funny how fortune can change so quickly."

He narrowed his eyes. "Why exactly are you here again?"

She didn't answer right away, but took a few drags on her cigarette and walked around the inn's reception area. "This is a rather nice place," she commented, sounding sincere. "Tell me, Watanuki, are you happy here?"

He stared at her, thrown off by the unexpected query. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I want to know. Are you happy with your current life?"

"Yes."

"Be honest, Watanuki. Are you happy?"

He turned around, too exasperated to look at her any longer. "I don't know! What's happy? Who the hell could be happy in this city? How can you ask me if I'm happy when I have to spend every moment lying to people, terrified someone will recognize me, or that the army will drag me away in the middle of the night, that I'll never be seen again and no one will dare to say anything about it? When I have to watch innocent people being disappeared and not say anything about it in case I'm next?"

The witch nodded with grim satisfaction. "In that case, I'm here to tell you a story. About what really happened that night at the palace, the night Fujitaka died and those mercenaries were accused of treason..."

-

Kurogane was late, and he wasn't the only one annoyed by this. "Hey! You're late!"

He had barely entered through the servants' door when the voice rang out, making him stop in his tracks and breath deeply once or twice to keep control of his temper. It had very nearly gotten him in trouble once today; he didn't really need the problems it would cause if he lost it again now. "Sorry. Some guards stopped me."

Shogo's frown lessened, slightly. Kurogane was thankful that at least he was a reasonable man. In fact, if they had met under different circumstances – in the army, or at a pub – they might have gotten along well enough. As it was, though, Shogo was the butler, and it was his duty to control the other servants. Kurogane disliked taking orders from someone who had given him no reason to respect him and just expected him to do it because he said so; Shogo had problems with Kurogane's lack of experience in the domestic world and his abrasive attitude. Still, he could hardly fault the man for having been stopped by the city guard, who seemed to be taking more advantage of their power every day.

"Try a little harder to be on time tomorrow, alright?" he said reproachfully, straightening his jacket. "We have a job to do, and we aren't going to be on time at this rate. Out back," he commanded, and Kurogane followed him through the servants' wing of the mansion and out toward the stables.

The car, being a rather expensive luxury, was used only on those occasions when the duchess was traveling somewhere. On other trips, like this one, they used horse-drawn carts or carriages. Kurogane had no problem with that. He rather liked horses, and had spent a lot of time fighting in various cavalry units. He preferred them, even with their quirks, to the strange and unnatural vehicles of privilege that the nobles rode around in.

Shogo whispered a few words into the ears of a stable boy, who helped Kurogane hook up two horses to a rather large cart. When all was ready, he and the mercenary jumped into the front of the cart. Kurogane took the reins. "Where to?"

"Arashi's," the butler answered, naming a merchant who often supplied the duchess' mansion with the things it needed to run, as well as the occasional piece of art or fine silk for Tomoyo herself.

Kurogane nodded and drove the cart in silence for the short trip. He would have hated to admit it, but he enjoy the quiet moments that this job provided him with. There was something simple but good about steering the horses, about having the time to think. Of course, in that time he often thought about what displeased him with his new life, but nothing was perfect. It was, at least, a steady and reliable source of work that was not completely repugnant; something that could no longer be said for the mercenary world.

They soon reached the merchant's shop, a large and busy place that nevertheless had the charm of a small, personal business. He steered the cart down an alley to the back, near the large storage rooms. A couple of employees were loitering near several large crates sharing a cigarette. "You from the Duchess' place?" one of them asked, dropping the cigarette on the ground and stepping on it.

"Yes. Are these our crates?"

The other man nodded, but held out his hand. "Need some proof of identification, sir."

Shogo nodded and reached into his jacket, pulling a slim wallet from his inner pocket. He opened it, revealing a card with his picture, name, position, and the duchess' personal seal. The men stared at it closely for just a second, then jerked their heads toward the cart. "You need some help moving these?" the first one asked.

"No, thank you. Back to your stations," Shogo answered smoothly. They shrugged and returned inside. The butler rolled up his sleeves. "Let's get to it," he said to Kurogane.

The mercenary nodded and jumped out of the cart, securing the horses to a post nearby. When he turned back to Shogo, he saw the man opening one of the crates and peering inside it. "What are you doing?" he asked shortly, not caring much for protocol.

The butler gave him a look, but answered his question anyway. "Checking that this is the correct shipment."

It made sense, so Kurogane nodded and went to help before something made him stop inches away from his destination. Shogo glared at him but didn't have a chance to speak first. "Do you always do that?"

"I do," Shogo answered. "Last week the boy that came to fetch them didn't, and brought back the wrong crates."

"He probably didn't check regularly. Probably no one but you does." Kurogane stared down. "What should be here?"

Shogo stood up straight and spoke in the tone of voice he used just before issuing a reprimand. "Food, mostly. Some basic medical supplies. Sometimes there are personal items for Her Grace."

"Including this month?" Kurogane asked, matching the butler's tone.

He pulled a list from his inner pocket and glanced at it briefly. "Yes. It should be that one," he pointed. Replacing the list, he moved to the crate he had indicated. "Now if you're done with this foolishness, get back to work."

"Not so fast," Kurogane shouted. He couldn't have said, if someone had asked him, what had made him so suspicious. Perhaps it was just his bad mood, or his conversation with Yuko. Whatever it was, he hadn't lived this long in this city by ignoring his instincts when they were screaming at him this loudly.

His instincts did no good for the butler. "Knock it off, Kurogane-san," Shogo snapped, pulling the lid off the crate. Perhaps he would have had something more to say, but the mercenary never found out. There was a loud explosion, and the world turned to light.

People in the shop and on the street were screaming and running around. A few – including the shop owner, Arashi Arisugawa – ran toward the sound, while most ran away. The brave or foolish ones who had gone to investigate had to jump quickly to avoid being run over by a cart pulled by two panicking horses. After a close miss, they peered around the corner with rather more care.

Fire was burning the alley out back, consuming the crates that had stood there and beginning to devour the back wall of the shop itself. Arashi gave orders to one of her employees to send a messenger to the fire department and to another to evacuate the store and its storage rooms. Then she walked closer to the fire and stopped, standing next to the soot-blackened figure who was bent over double, coughing up ash and smoke.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

"The damn idiot – didn't listen – told him to stop – " the man coughed.

"Who...?"

"Shogo – dead now."

The woman nodded stoically. "Come this way, sir. You need something to drink."

He stared at her, his wide eyes standing out starkly against his dirty face. "You are?"

"Arashi Arisugawa. You are one of Tomoyo-san's men?"

He nodded, because that was easier than speaking. She turned to walk out the alley, and after a moment of respectful silence for the dead man, he followed.

-

AN: Merry Christmas, all! Or whatever salutations you would prefer, if that one does not suit you. Lately I've been feeling a bit under the weather, but I love this holiday entirely too much to let that keep me down for long. Also, just saw Sweeney Todd, which is fabulous if you haven't seen it yet. Go. Now. It makes up for how Golden Compass was such a horrendously awful film. Don't see that. Read the book. It's one of my favorites.

So. Some good stuff in this chapter, I think. I'm kind of excited about getting Watanuki mixed into all of this. Seriously, one of the things I love about xxxHolic is getting to watch Watanuki and Yuko interact, so that scene was a lot of fun to write. More on them in the next chapter. And, we have our first body in the story! Yay! (Yeah, that's kind of sick, but as I said, I just saw Sweeney Todd – kind of in a sick, twisted, dark mood, hah). Next chapter, the aftermath of the explosion and more background info. Good stuff. See you in the next year!