storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2011-06-01 12:25 am
storypaint) wrote2011-06-01 12:25 am
Entry tags:
[xxxHOLiC] even hundredfold grief is divisible by love (Watanuki, Doumeki, and Mokona gen)
Title: even hundredfold grief is divisible by love
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Length: 581 words
Prompt: fic_promptly: xxxHolic, any, Watanuki didn't stay in the shop after Yuuko's death
Pairing: Watanuki, Doumeki, and Mokona gen
Other: AU as per prompt.
Excerpt: He hoped Maru and Moro would be all right. He'd have to ask Himawari to visit them, if the shop was still there. He hoped they hadn't died with the shop. He wasn't sure what he'd do if that was true. It was too hard, right now, to think about going back.
He couldn't turn around.
He couldn't turn around because he was afraid that when he did, the shop wouldn't be there anymore. There wouldn't be that warm light in the strange round windows and the spectacle of the gate. There wouldn't be Maru and Moro staring hopefully through the windows. There would just be an empty lot, deserted. He couldn't deal with that.
Doumeki's hand was firm on his elbow, and Watanuki wanted to jerk it away, but he didn't. He let Doumeki half-drag him down the sidewalk, feeling a little disoriented. He'd waited for her for two weeks straight, waited for her to come back and explain what she meant when she said that someone else got to chose the ending of her life. But she wasn't coming. She wasn't coming, and waiting around in the shop didn't fix anything.
(He hoped Maru and Moro would be all right. He'd have to ask Himawari to visit them, if the shop was still there. He hoped they hadn't died with the shop. He wasn't sure what he'd do if that was true. It was too hard, right now, to think about going back.)
Mokona was a warm weight on his shoulder. It was humming a song that was getting on Watanuki's nerves.
Finally, he snapped, "Where are we going?"
Doumeki shrugged. After a long moment, he said, "Away."
"Well, gee, that explains almost nothing," Watanuki seethed. Mokona giggled.
"You need to be somewhere else for a while," Doumeki said, matter-of-fact.
"But if Yuuko comes back--" Watanuki said, and trailed off. He sighed. This morning he'd dug through the laundry and found one of her kimono, and lifted it to his nose. It smelled like pipe smoke and alcohol burn and all those tiny little things that meant Yuuko. He sort of wished he'd thought to bring it with him.
"You'll know," Doumeki said, although his pace was slowing to a more sedate one, now that they'd turned several corners. "She'll call you wanting cake."
"She would too!" Watanuki said, scowling. "'Oh, Watanuki-kun, dying has made me so hungry! You must make me dinner as soon as possible!'"
"Yuuko isn't coming back," Mokona said quietly, pressing its face into his neck. "She's gone. Like Clow."
Watanuki reached up to pat its ears. It snuggled into his hand. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess she is."
He blinked twice, quickly, but the tears still threatened to spill over. Doumeki said nothing. He let go of Watanuki's hand and jogged over to a juice machine.
"Insensitive," Watanuki said, and sniffled.
By the time Doumeki returned, he had composed himself again. Doumeki handed him a can, and one to Mokona too.
"To Yuuko," Mokona said, raising the can high. Watanuki made a production of rolling his eyes, but he did the same. Doumeki went along, again without comment.
"Kohane-chan is expecting you," Doumeki said after they spent a few moments drinking their juice. Watanuki hesitated, but his fondness for Kohane won out.
"Well, it would be rude not to go see her, then. And Obaa-chan. I suppose you can tag along."
Watanuki started walking, then, with purpose, and Doumeki followed alongside. After a few minutes, it began to rain, a fine cold rain that fell even though the sun was shining.
Watanuki stiffened, and he avoided mirrored surfaces all the way to Obaa-chan's house. No spirits followed him there. Kohane flew out of the house and into his arms, and he smiled a little.
There were worse endings than this.
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Length: 581 words
Prompt: fic_promptly: xxxHolic, any, Watanuki didn't stay in the shop after Yuuko's death
Pairing: Watanuki, Doumeki, and Mokona gen
Other: AU as per prompt.
Excerpt: He hoped Maru and Moro would be all right. He'd have to ask Himawari to visit them, if the shop was still there. He hoped they hadn't died with the shop. He wasn't sure what he'd do if that was true. It was too hard, right now, to think about going back.
He couldn't turn around.
He couldn't turn around because he was afraid that when he did, the shop wouldn't be there anymore. There wouldn't be that warm light in the strange round windows and the spectacle of the gate. There wouldn't be Maru and Moro staring hopefully through the windows. There would just be an empty lot, deserted. He couldn't deal with that.
Doumeki's hand was firm on his elbow, and Watanuki wanted to jerk it away, but he didn't. He let Doumeki half-drag him down the sidewalk, feeling a little disoriented. He'd waited for her for two weeks straight, waited for her to come back and explain what she meant when she said that someone else got to chose the ending of her life. But she wasn't coming. She wasn't coming, and waiting around in the shop didn't fix anything.
(He hoped Maru and Moro would be all right. He'd have to ask Himawari to visit them, if the shop was still there. He hoped they hadn't died with the shop. He wasn't sure what he'd do if that was true. It was too hard, right now, to think about going back.)
Mokona was a warm weight on his shoulder. It was humming a song that was getting on Watanuki's nerves.
Finally, he snapped, "Where are we going?"
Doumeki shrugged. After a long moment, he said, "Away."
"Well, gee, that explains almost nothing," Watanuki seethed. Mokona giggled.
"You need to be somewhere else for a while," Doumeki said, matter-of-fact.
"But if Yuuko comes back--" Watanuki said, and trailed off. He sighed. This morning he'd dug through the laundry and found one of her kimono, and lifted it to his nose. It smelled like pipe smoke and alcohol burn and all those tiny little things that meant Yuuko. He sort of wished he'd thought to bring it with him.
"You'll know," Doumeki said, although his pace was slowing to a more sedate one, now that they'd turned several corners. "She'll call you wanting cake."
"She would too!" Watanuki said, scowling. "'Oh, Watanuki-kun, dying has made me so hungry! You must make me dinner as soon as possible!'"
"Yuuko isn't coming back," Mokona said quietly, pressing its face into his neck. "She's gone. Like Clow."
Watanuki reached up to pat its ears. It snuggled into his hand. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess she is."
He blinked twice, quickly, but the tears still threatened to spill over. Doumeki said nothing. He let go of Watanuki's hand and jogged over to a juice machine.
"Insensitive," Watanuki said, and sniffled.
By the time Doumeki returned, he had composed himself again. Doumeki handed him a can, and one to Mokona too.
"To Yuuko," Mokona said, raising the can high. Watanuki made a production of rolling his eyes, but he did the same. Doumeki went along, again without comment.
"Kohane-chan is expecting you," Doumeki said after they spent a few moments drinking their juice. Watanuki hesitated, but his fondness for Kohane won out.
"Well, it would be rude not to go see her, then. And Obaa-chan. I suppose you can tag along."
Watanuki started walking, then, with purpose, and Doumeki followed alongside. After a few minutes, it began to rain, a fine cold rain that fell even though the sun was shining.
Watanuki stiffened, and he avoided mirrored surfaces all the way to Obaa-chan's house. No spirits followed him there. Kohane flew out of the house and into his arms, and he smiled a little.
There were worse endings than this.