To Protect
Doumeki sat in the hall of Yuuko's shop, tired and expressionless as he leaned back against the wall. Dried blood streaked his clothes and face, some his and some not, and the dying sun made his amber eyes glow as though on fire.
Kunogi and the others had passed by him a few times- Kunogi pacing restlessly and the others more hovering- and the two strange children often offered him a change of clothes or something to eat, but each time he refused. There was no way in hell he was going to leave Watanuki.
Doumeki remembered when, hours earlier, that horrified scream had first cut across the school grounds. The vision in his right eye had momentarily dimmed and then cleared, and he suddenly realized, as the scream repeated, that he recognized the name being called. Fear stagnated in his chest like ice water and his legs moved on their own as started to run, forgetting anything else other than finding Watanuki.
It didn't take long. There was a large crowd gathering in the courtyard, stagnating where they stood like muddy water, and he shoved his way roughly through, trying not to see the horrified expressions frozen to the faces of the people around him. With a final push he broke through to the center of the mass and when he glanced to where all their eyes were trained the blood in his veins turned to ice.
Watanuki. He lay still and silent in the center of the clearing, his glasses discarded by Doumeki's feet. Shards of glass littered the ground and like tiny mirrors. They reflected the boy's broken body and the rivulets of blood now staining the pavement around him.
In the split second that Doumeki hesitated above Watanuki's unmoving form he knew that there was no greater pain than the horror of coming too late.
"Call an ambulance," he ordered no one in particular, yet even as he dashed forward he knew he wasn't going to wait. In one smooth movement, he had cradled Watanuki in his arms, running in the hope he could reach the hospital before the blood which stained his arms stopped flowing, and the body in his arms went cold.
His feet were a blur, but before he'd gone so much as a block from the school, the witch Watanuki worked for had stepped out in front of him, her crimson eyes as deep a color as Watanuki's blood.
"Get out of the way," Doumeki snarled with surprising menace. He felt as though what part of his heart wasn't already dying had darkened unrecognizably with hatred. He didn't know himself anymore. But as he tried to dodge around the witch she held an arm in his way, and suddenly he couldn't move.
"It's too late for that," the woman said darkly, her usually carefree eyes shadowed with solemnity. Gold clashed with burgundy as Doumeki glared into those depths. But just as suddenly as his anger had appeared, it seemed to darken, and it changed into something else entirely as his eyes were drawn back to the boy in his arms. When he looked back into the witch's face his eyes were blank and he spoke with dark certainty.
"You mean for me to make a wish."
Yuuko nodded, and her eyes focused on something behind him. "Himawari too," Doumeki turned, and was startled to see that Kunogi had followed him from the courtyard. She was out of breath, but nodded, a determination shining in eyes that even now were brimmed with tears.
"Please, Yuuko-san," she whispered, "no price is too heavy."
Looking over both of them, the witch nodded. "Very well," she said in that strange, solemn voice. "You may enter the shop."
And as she turned to look to where once had been an empty lot, Doumeki followed her movements, and now saw the strange building that Watanuki must have seen all along. But there was no time. Doumeki turned through the intricate arch and walked up the path, not looking back and not regretting his decision. If it would save Watanuki, the price no longer mattered.
And now he sat in the hall, reflecting upon his blood lost and the scars which now marred Kunogi's back. Yuuko-san had said that these were the prices that must be paid, and he regretted nothing. Slowly he was beginning to realize that without Watanuki nothing in his life would carry the same weight. It was a truth that now etched itself into his heart, and Doumeki closed his eyes, praying that would be enough.
Doumeki's eyes opened to a field drenched in moonlight and a large tree which shed petals to the air. A slow curl of smoke belayed the presence of another man.
"Haruka-san," Doumeki greeted his grandfather, not as surprised to see the man as he should have been. There had always been something otherworldly about him, and even after death Doumeki could see that his unique presence had not changed. The older man took a draw on his cigarette and released the smoke to the wind, his face uncharacteristically somber.
"Shizuka," he replied, those eyes so like Doumeki's own turning sideways to appraise his grandson. "You've grown." A hollow smile made the lines on either side of his lips deepen but his eyes were flat.
Doumeki said nothing; suddenly too tired to engage in conversation and too worried to give the man his whole attention. Watanuki and his well-being were taking over his thoughts. From the corner of his eye, Doumeki could see his grandfather give a slight nod.
"I see that there's no other way."
Confused, Doumeki turned again to his side. His grandfather was staring into space, a frown creasing his brow and the cigarette hanging limply from his hand.
"Kimihiro is a kind boy; I would hate to see his time cut short." Again Haruka let the cigarette dangle from his mouth. The end glowed briefly as he took a draw. After a pause, he turned to look at his grandson again. Doumeki's full attention was on the man. His desperation reflected back in Haruka's eyes. Doumeki's grandfather gave a humorless chuckle. "And I see he's almost as much a part of you as I am." His smile stayed as he turned back to the moonlit sky. Doumeki uncharacteristically broke the silence.
"What can you do?"
Surprised, Haruka turned to look at him. It seemed to him as though that boy had changed his grandson more than he'd thought. Haruka let his eyes go flat. "Kimihiro only knows me because of my connection to you," he paused. The cigarette trailed smoke. In the silence, Doumeki's fist clenched. He needed to know. For Watanuki's sake, he needed to know. Haruka seemed to take note of his reaction before he continued. "You cannot go to where he is…but I can." His eyes were focused on something far away. "It could work because I resemble you." He frowned. "But I promise nothing."
Doumeki shook his head; he didn't care. As long as there was a fighting chance, he would do whatever he could. "Please, Haruka-san," he said, and again that surprised look flashed in his grandfather's eyes. "Help Watanuki…bring him back."
The silence stretched out, Doumeki's worry coloring the air. Finally Haruka removed the cigarette from his mouth and smiled. "I will do what I can."
Doumeki woke up where he had fallen asleep, leaning against the wall of Yuuko's shop. His first thoughts flew to Watanuki. Doumeki stood anxiously, but as soon as he was on his feet his head began to swim. "…Damn," he muttered, but pressed on, feeling his way to the room where Watanuki was being kept. Neither Yuuko nor Kunogi seemed to be around, but there was a seat right by the bed. He took it gratefully and stared down at the sleeping occupant.
Watanuki was bandaged from head to toe, and looked strangely meek where he lay beneath a heap of covers. Dried blood caked his eyelashes, and his lips were so pale they blended in with the rest of his face. Doumeki felt a pang go through his chest, and before he knew what he was doing his hand was reaching forward. The tips of his fingers brushed Watanuki's cheek, and then his fine raven hair. It hurt so much to see him like this.
Doumeki didn't know what he'd do if Watanuki never woke up. The mere thought of this outcome made his stomach clench painfully, and Doumeki was aware that his stoic face had acquired a crease between his two brows. His lips curved sadly as his eyes stayed dark. Just like Watanuki to get him to loose his cool.
Doumeki drew back his hand, and stared down at Watanuki in a way he knew the boy would never let him do if he was awake. His eyes seemed to make people uncomfortable in their intensity, but now with no one to see he tried to use it to his advantage, glaring down at Watanuki and willing him to get better. If that was all it took, Doumeki would sit there forever without complaint. …Anything to fix his friend.
Suddenly, Doumeki's right eye darkened. A dreadful fear took him over and his muscles tensed grimly. But in that dark he could see figures. Watanuki wasn't gone yet. Doumeki paused and closed his left eye to concentrate entirely on the scene.
A little boy stood in the black, tears running down his face and fogging his glasses. His mouth moved as if calling for someone, and quite suddenly he began to run after something Doumeki couldn't see. The boy was fading, Doumeki realized, the farther he ran. But before the darkness took over completely, a man materialized out of the dark.
A light surrounded him like a holy thing, and he gripped the little boy's arm firmly. The child turned and Doumeki found himself staring as if in a mirror. It was him, and yet it was not. The clothes were too old fashioned, and the eyes too light. Haruka, he suddenly realized. His grandfather's lips moved, and in degrees he saw that the boy was becoming more real, more solid. The light was building almost painfully, and before the two disappeared in its blinding depths the boy changed, and Doumeki was looking at Watanuki, his face streaked with tears.
Then the darkness was gone. Doumeki looked down at the boy in the bed. With a painful joy Doumeki realized that a little color had come to his face and the soft breaths which shifted the blankets were now deeper, easier. Suddenly the boy's lips parted. "…Doumeki?" he mumbled, and after a pause smiled.
Doumeki sat stunned for a moment, something unrecognizable blooming in his chest. He was whole again; his heart beat as though it had never been broken. And in that perfect moment Doumeki smiled too.
"Idiot…" he muttered, and leaned in tenderly, laying his lips against a warm cheek.
The world was in order, and Watanuki slept peacefully. It was all that he could wish for.