storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-10-13 08:58 am
storypaint) wrote2009-10-13 08:58 am
On and On (Syaoran and Watanuki gen)
Title: On and On
Fandom: xxxHOLiC/Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Length: 895 words
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
31_days: 13 Oct 09 // This world of dew/ is only a world of dew-/ and yet... oh and yet...
Pairing: Syaoran and Watanuki gen; ensemble gen; Clow/Yuuko implied; Syaoran/Sakura mentioned
Other: Spoilers for end of TRC and xH 186. Mentions of death; encounters with dead characters; speculation on end of xH.
Excerpt: The first time that Syaoran visited Watanuki, all the two of them could think of was the circumstances under which they had last met.
The first time that Syaoran visited Watanuki, all the two of them could think of was the circumstances under which they had last met.
Kurogane and Fai, without asking, took the Mokona to the park that Watanuki told them about, and left the boys alone.
The clone's ghost hung heavily in the air between them, mixed with the loss of Yuuko and the scent of her pipe.
It doesn't suit him, Syaoran thought, but said nothing. Watanuki had made his choice, and it was very different than his own. They should be different. That fact was part of what kept Watanuki alive.
They didn't seem to have much to say to each other. Syaoran wasn't a particularly good conversationalist, and Watanuki was trying too hard to take his mentor's place. But he made tea, and they drank it together, on Yuuko's porch. (Syaoran could not quit thinking of it as hers, just as the two of them could not stop thinking of their third self, their father. It was a wonder any conversation had escaped to the air.)
And then Syaoran bowed, and left. But he would return, and Watanuki would stay.
*
The third time that their travels blew them back into the pocket dimension of the shop, Watanuki had company. Syaoran thought at first that the other man was a customer, and tried to make a swift exit, apologetically. But Watanuki just frowned and said, "Don't worry about him."
He looked up at his dark-haired companion, still frowning. Syaoran stared at the evidence of their connection. He'd wondered about Watanuki's eye, of course. It was hard to miss the contrast of blue to gold. Here, then, was the boy who had helped pay the price when Watanuki had almost died. He was nearly as close to Watanuki as Syaoran himself, though in a slightly different way.
He seemed indifferent, in any case, to Watanuki's glare. He stared back at Syaoran for a long moment before saying, "Shopping," and stepping out of the room.
Watanuki gestured irritably at the door that the man had left from. "Doumeki," he said.
Syaoran nodded curiously. When Doumeki returned, bags in tow, he and Watanuki had a strange argument over the fact that Doumeki had forgotten something essential. Syaoran considered it strange, anyway, because Doumeki didn't react to Watanuki's complaints, and because Watanuki flailed around dramatically over something so silly.
They really were quite different, Syaoran and Watanuki. Syaoran found it disorienting, at times, especially since Sakura had once said that the two of them were similar in temperment.
It was more like having a brother, he thought. But that wasn't a bad thing, at all.
*
Years passed on the outside. Sometimes Syaoran came to the shop with Kurogane and Fai in tow, and sometimes with only Mokona. Sometimes Doumeki was there when he arrived, and sometimes a sweet girl that Watanuki called Himawari, but only Watanuki, Larg, and the twins were constant.
Watanuki didn't age. Syaoran told him about life in other worlds, about the daughter that Sakura had just give him, about time, which Watanuki didn't have. Watanuki drank it in hungrily. He studied the lines on Syaoran's face and secretly wondered if he would have aged in the same manner.
But he was determined. He did not waver. And the wondering was part of the price, anyway.
*
Watanuki died first. Syaoran woke one morning with a stabbing pain in his chest. He felt as though he didn't have enough air to breathe.
And then he looked around him, at the stark blackness of the world, and realized it was no world at all. It was a dream.
Watanuki pelted past him, showing more vigor in that moment than he ever had, even scolding Doumeki. In the distance (or so Syaoran thought, distance did strange things in this space), he could see someone turning toward the shopkeeper, someone tall and thin and dark-haired.
Syaoran looked away. He felt as though he were interrupting. And that's when someone offered him a hand.
He looked up into twinkling blue eyes and exhaled as though he'd been punched in the chest, because the owner of that hand was no other than Clow Reed (the king, his lips moved, but he didn't say it aloud, because it was true-and-not-true at the same time). Clow was smiling.
"You're not supposed to be here," he said, though, "not quite yet. This is Watanuki's time, and you have another path to walk."
"Clow-san--" Syaoran sputtered, as the taller man pulled him easily to his feet. Clow rested a hand on Syaoran's shoulder.
"I understand why you journey," he said. "And I wish you better luck with it." To Syaoran's surprise, he winked. "Try not to break any more universal taboos, all right?"
He turned to look at the distant tableau of Yuuko and Watanuki. The boy was still hugging his mentor, but she'd said something irritating and Watanuki was trying to repress a familiar rage. Clow grinned.
"Keep going," he said to Syaoran, flicking him in the forehead, and Syaoran fell back and back and back into the waking world.
*
And so Syaoran continued. His quests could have filled books, and they did, journals noted down in his neat handwriting. One day, he said to himself, one day.
And the horizon stretched on forever.
Fandom: xxxHOLiC/Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Length: 895 words
Prompt:
31_days: 13 Oct 09 // This world of dew/ is only a world of dew-/ and yet... oh and yet...Pairing: Syaoran and Watanuki gen; ensemble gen; Clow/Yuuko implied; Syaoran/Sakura mentioned
Other: Spoilers for end of TRC and xH 186. Mentions of death; encounters with dead characters; speculation on end of xH.
Excerpt: The first time that Syaoran visited Watanuki, all the two of them could think of was the circumstances under which they had last met.
The first time that Syaoran visited Watanuki, all the two of them could think of was the circumstances under which they had last met.
Kurogane and Fai, without asking, took the Mokona to the park that Watanuki told them about, and left the boys alone.
The clone's ghost hung heavily in the air between them, mixed with the loss of Yuuko and the scent of her pipe.
It doesn't suit him, Syaoran thought, but said nothing. Watanuki had made his choice, and it was very different than his own. They should be different. That fact was part of what kept Watanuki alive.
They didn't seem to have much to say to each other. Syaoran wasn't a particularly good conversationalist, and Watanuki was trying too hard to take his mentor's place. But he made tea, and they drank it together, on Yuuko's porch. (Syaoran could not quit thinking of it as hers, just as the two of them could not stop thinking of their third self, their father. It was a wonder any conversation had escaped to the air.)
And then Syaoran bowed, and left. But he would return, and Watanuki would stay.
*
The third time that their travels blew them back into the pocket dimension of the shop, Watanuki had company. Syaoran thought at first that the other man was a customer, and tried to make a swift exit, apologetically. But Watanuki just frowned and said, "Don't worry about him."
He looked up at his dark-haired companion, still frowning. Syaoran stared at the evidence of their connection. He'd wondered about Watanuki's eye, of course. It was hard to miss the contrast of blue to gold. Here, then, was the boy who had helped pay the price when Watanuki had almost died. He was nearly as close to Watanuki as Syaoran himself, though in a slightly different way.
He seemed indifferent, in any case, to Watanuki's glare. He stared back at Syaoran for a long moment before saying, "Shopping," and stepping out of the room.
Watanuki gestured irritably at the door that the man had left from. "Doumeki," he said.
Syaoran nodded curiously. When Doumeki returned, bags in tow, he and Watanuki had a strange argument over the fact that Doumeki had forgotten something essential. Syaoran considered it strange, anyway, because Doumeki didn't react to Watanuki's complaints, and because Watanuki flailed around dramatically over something so silly.
They really were quite different, Syaoran and Watanuki. Syaoran found it disorienting, at times, especially since Sakura had once said that the two of them were similar in temperment.
It was more like having a brother, he thought. But that wasn't a bad thing, at all.
*
Years passed on the outside. Sometimes Syaoran came to the shop with Kurogane and Fai in tow, and sometimes with only Mokona. Sometimes Doumeki was there when he arrived, and sometimes a sweet girl that Watanuki called Himawari, but only Watanuki, Larg, and the twins were constant.
Watanuki didn't age. Syaoran told him about life in other worlds, about the daughter that Sakura had just give him, about time, which Watanuki didn't have. Watanuki drank it in hungrily. He studied the lines on Syaoran's face and secretly wondered if he would have aged in the same manner.
But he was determined. He did not waver. And the wondering was part of the price, anyway.
*
Watanuki died first. Syaoran woke one morning with a stabbing pain in his chest. He felt as though he didn't have enough air to breathe.
And then he looked around him, at the stark blackness of the world, and realized it was no world at all. It was a dream.
Watanuki pelted past him, showing more vigor in that moment than he ever had, even scolding Doumeki. In the distance (or so Syaoran thought, distance did strange things in this space), he could see someone turning toward the shopkeeper, someone tall and thin and dark-haired.
Syaoran looked away. He felt as though he were interrupting. And that's when someone offered him a hand.
He looked up into twinkling blue eyes and exhaled as though he'd been punched in the chest, because the owner of that hand was no other than Clow Reed (the king, his lips moved, but he didn't say it aloud, because it was true-and-not-true at the same time). Clow was smiling.
"You're not supposed to be here," he said, though, "not quite yet. This is Watanuki's time, and you have another path to walk."
"Clow-san--" Syaoran sputtered, as the taller man pulled him easily to his feet. Clow rested a hand on Syaoran's shoulder.
"I understand why you journey," he said. "And I wish you better luck with it." To Syaoran's surprise, he winked. "Try not to break any more universal taboos, all right?"
He turned to look at the distant tableau of Yuuko and Watanuki. The boy was still hugging his mentor, but she'd said something irritating and Watanuki was trying to repress a familiar rage. Clow grinned.
"Keep going," he said to Syaoran, flicking him in the forehead, and Syaoran fell back and back and back into the waking world.
*
And so Syaoran continued. His quests could have filled books, and they did, journals noted down in his neat handwriting. One day, he said to himself, one day.
And the horizon stretched on forever.