Coffee Talk
by Yukitsu
Standard Disclaimers Apply
The smell of coffee, too-sweet and too-milky, reached his nose. Watanuki blinked awake, and wondered for a long ten seconds why everything was blurry before realizing it was because his glasses were gone. That was odd. He didn't usually lose his glasses when he fainted in random parks during the daytime. He didn't usually find himself waking up to futons, either, being more used as he was to hard rock and filthy ground. Waking up to stars was fine, but not alabaster curtains in a four-poster bed.
Yuuko probably had to have something to do with it, Watanuki concluded, because Yuuko always had something to do with it. Either that, or his charms hadn't worked and he had gotten attacked by spirits, despite being next to Doumeki during that time.
"Doumeki," he muttered hoarsely. Did the jock get hurt on his behalf again? Judging from how he couldn't move his arms, even just to reach for his glasses, it looked like it would be hard for him to make lunch for the guy the next day. Doumeki better not be hurt too much.
"Mm?" The coffee. That's right. Watanuki squinted to peer at the mass of white against brown behind white before realizing it was a person and that it was Doumeki. There was no red on him, but Watanuki couldn't be sure because there were butterflies flying around over his head.
He told himself he was used to strange things happening around him and ignored them.
"What happened?"
The archer paused. "She said it was Dream Eaters. You fell asleep in the middle of walking, and they attacked."
"Oh."
Watanuki supposed it made some sense – he vaguely remembered Haruka-san telling him to wake up. Much like when Kohane's mother had thrown tea at his face, though he supposed that was an entirely different thing.
"How did you drive them away?" he asked despite himself, knowing that his sort of guardian and constant annoyance had something to do with it. A shuffle of cloth, a quiet sip, and more of the coffee smell wafting over to him, making Watanuki want to throw it out the window because judging by the smell, he knew it was badly brewed.
Doumeki didn't answer. That was usually something bad. They had this bad habit, that Watanuki admitted they both shared: Neither liked talking about things like sacrifices and pain and failure, and when it came to each other, even thanks.
"Doumeki, how?"
"They took his dreams in exchange for yours." It was Yuuko. That, Watanuki was certain off. It wasn't just the voice, but the tall, colorful figure at the foot of his bed.
"Wha---?! Wait, why?!" He wanted to sit up. Watanuki figured the butterflies had something to do with it.
"It's fine," Doumeki muttered. "I don't dream often, anyway. Meditation."
"Ah, but it bought you time, Kimihiro Watanuki," the witch said.
That was completely and absolutely unnecessary, Watanuki wanted to say, but he knew it wasn't true. It probably I was /I necessary. Like Doumeki's eyes, and Doumeki's blood, and Doumeki's very essence that both annoyed him and kept him sane against such things that shouldn't exist in the first place.
"But—"
"Ah, you should eat something, Watanuki-kun You need to regain your strength, you know. It took a lot out of you to get those things out of you" She was getting off the bed. "Doumeki-kun, why don't you share your coffee with him while I get Moro and Maru to make something?"
"Aa."
He wanted to protest. Moro and Maru would ruin the pots, break the china, and probably burn the kitchen while they were at it. And then he'd have to clean it up when he was finally better, in the middle of trying to serve Yuuko non-charcoaled fondant cake, and he wasn't done (figuratively) shaking Doumeki by the collar to ask him I what the heck was he thinking giving away his ability to dream like that/I
Doumeki, in the mean time, had reached in to Watanuki's personal space and prodded him with the mug. It was a little warm, and Watanuki wrinkled his nose against the sweet smell. Instant coffee, probably. What was he thinking?
"Don't be a brat," Doumeki put in, when Watanuki made no move to accept the offered drink and instead wrinkled his nose.
"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DRINK THAT? I CAN'T EVEN MOVE MY ARMS, YOU BIG DOLT!"
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08/08/2007