storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-01-07 08:48 pm
storypaint) wrote2009-01-07 08:48 pm
Entry tags:
Lives (Watanuki gen)
Title: Lives
Day/Theme: Oct 27 // parting gifts
Series: xxxHOLiC
Character/Pairing: Watanuki gen
Rating: G, vague references to current xH/TRC canon, contemplation on end of series.
Excerpt: Yuuko gave him something when she left, something other than the small plot of ground where a shop that granted wishes used to be. How she'd manage to convince the land to be there all the time for everyone, Watanuki didn't know, and he didn't ask. But she gave it to him, the flat, grass-less plain, and he was oddly touched.
Yuuko gave him something when she left, something other than the small plot of ground where a shop that granted wishes used to be. How she'd manage to convince the land to be there all the time for everyone, Watanuki didn't know, and he didn't ask. But she gave it to him, the flat, grass-less plain, and he was oddly touched.
After she'd strode off into the sunset (she never missed an opportunity to be dramatic), he sat down on the ground, only slightly self-conscious, and he ran his hand across the dirt. He didn't want to go home.
There was the sticky part of knowing that the place he'd called "home" for years and years was little better than a vague substitution, and that the photographs who had been his parents had enjoyed living there even less than he did. It was an empty house, emptier still, somehow, since he'd met Yuuko and Doumeki and Himawari.
The other gift she'd given him, beside this small slice of land, was hope. It wasn't something he'd thought about for most of his life. He was too busy living. Too busy, well, surviving.
"It's your life now," she'd said, putting a finger on his nose, and for once he hadn't protested her touch. He'd just looked at her.
"Syaoran made his choices, but you have made other ones, and they have bound you to your own existence. Do not waste it," she said, and for a moment there was real affection in her gaze.
"Yuuko-san?"
"Hmm?" she replied, already turning away and picking up the small satchel by her feet.
"Where are you going?"
"Somewhere where I won't need you to cook for me, Watanuki-kun," she replied lightly.
"What does that mean?"
"My part in your education is finished," she replied. "You're on your own."
She didn't look at him as she strode away down the sidewalk, west-ward.
He was contemplating her odd answer when a familiar voice called him from the sidewalk.
"Oi," Doumeki said. "Why are you sitting on the ground?"
Watanuki felt a familiar anger rising, but instead of indulging it he stood up.
"There weren't any chairs," he replied dryly.
"I see," Doumeki answered. "Are you coming?"
Watanuki nodded and began walking towards the archer. As he did, he heard a certain familiar voice.
"I'm coming!" Himawari called, out of breath, as she rushed down the sidewalk towards the two of them.
"Wonderful," Watanuki replied, and it was. They headed off in the direction of the still-setting sun, with the shadows long behind them and the future up ahead.
Day/Theme: Oct 27 // parting gifts
Series: xxxHOLiC
Character/Pairing: Watanuki gen
Rating: G, vague references to current xH/TRC canon, contemplation on end of series.
Excerpt: Yuuko gave him something when she left, something other than the small plot of ground where a shop that granted wishes used to be. How she'd manage to convince the land to be there all the time for everyone, Watanuki didn't know, and he didn't ask. But she gave it to him, the flat, grass-less plain, and he was oddly touched.
Yuuko gave him something when she left, something other than the small plot of ground where a shop that granted wishes used to be. How she'd manage to convince the land to be there all the time for everyone, Watanuki didn't know, and he didn't ask. But she gave it to him, the flat, grass-less plain, and he was oddly touched.
After she'd strode off into the sunset (she never missed an opportunity to be dramatic), he sat down on the ground, only slightly self-conscious, and he ran his hand across the dirt. He didn't want to go home.
There was the sticky part of knowing that the place he'd called "home" for years and years was little better than a vague substitution, and that the photographs who had been his parents had enjoyed living there even less than he did. It was an empty house, emptier still, somehow, since he'd met Yuuko and Doumeki and Himawari.
The other gift she'd given him, beside this small slice of land, was hope. It wasn't something he'd thought about for most of his life. He was too busy living. Too busy, well, surviving.
"It's your life now," she'd said, putting a finger on his nose, and for once he hadn't protested her touch. He'd just looked at her.
"Syaoran made his choices, but you have made other ones, and they have bound you to your own existence. Do not waste it," she said, and for a moment there was real affection in her gaze.
"Yuuko-san?"
"Hmm?" she replied, already turning away and picking up the small satchel by her feet.
"Where are you going?"
"Somewhere where I won't need you to cook for me, Watanuki-kun," she replied lightly.
"What does that mean?"
"My part in your education is finished," she replied. "You're on your own."
She didn't look at him as she strode away down the sidewalk, west-ward.
He was contemplating her odd answer when a familiar voice called him from the sidewalk.
"Oi," Doumeki said. "Why are you sitting on the ground?"
Watanuki felt a familiar anger rising, but instead of indulging it he stood up.
"There weren't any chairs," he replied dryly.
"I see," Doumeki answered. "Are you coming?"
Watanuki nodded and began walking towards the archer. As he did, he heard a certain familiar voice.
"I'm coming!" Himawari called, out of breath, as she rushed down the sidewalk towards the two of them.
"Wonderful," Watanuki replied, and it was. They headed off in the direction of the still-setting sun, with the shadows long behind them and the future up ahead.