Full title: Things That Are Said (But Never Voiced or Never Meant)

Written as taking place just following chapter 141, but does not necessarily have to be. Slight spoilers. I've read all chapters thus far, so while they are not mentioned, they've probably influenced my writing.

And unless I'm very much mistaken, this is the first xxxHOLiC piece I've submitted here. Meaning you should review. Except that should be a given.

It had been simple enough in the running away, a quick solution to throw away the bait and save themselves. When Watanuki yelled at him about the chickens, Doumeki had assumed this a sign that all was well.

Passing under a streetlight, Watanuki paused, the proved that this was definitely not the case.

He was shaking. Doumeki had quickly ignored the next near-death experience in a long list dating back from when he'd met the boy, once they reached safety and were unharmed. He had not thought Watanuki would be so affected. Of all the scrapes they'd been through, this was not even in the Most Dangerous list. It didn't really warrant a lasting mark, in Doumeki's eyes.

Well, apparently he was wrong.

"Hey," he said, opting for a softer tone. As predicted, Watanuki switched his whole attention to his apparently delinquent friend. But instead of a scathing tirade, he merely replied with a sullen "that is not my name!"

"You all right?" Doumeki continued. No point dancing around the subject, although that was a practice he did not indulge in anyway. He'd get to the point eventually, so he may as well make it sooner rather than later.

"Of course I'm not all right! If you happen to remember, we just got chased by insane bird demons planning to chop us up and eat us, and now you're asking if I'm all right? Is there something wrong with you?" Watanuki glared with the ease of daily practice. Doumeki realised with something akin to surprise that he was being asked about his own well-being, in a sideways and possibly subconscious way.

"I'm fine," he stated, wondering how with such a vast difference in vocabulary they managed to communicate the same thing.

"That's not what I meant!" cried Watanuki, but Doumeki rather suspected it was.

--

When they arrived at the temple, Watanuki glanced nervously around him, and so Doumeki held open the gate and let it speak for him. "It's late," he said, as a reason.

"I don't need a chaperone!" the boy retorted, but did not protest further as he walked in and the gate was shut behind him. And that was how everything happened, wasn't it? Doumeki would ease into new routines cleanly enough that Watanuki never noticed until they were no longer new. Perhaps this one would stay.

Perhaps it would stay.

There was tea to be made, and Doumeki made it to give the other boy time to adjust to his surroundings. He tried not to listen to closely for activity in the next room over, tried not to be too eager to return. When he did, it was to a much mellower Watanuki who did not appear to notice the returnee. He was gazing at the door, back turned, but Doumeki could see his expression in his mind's eye and it was hollow and painful.

"Tea," he said, to break the mood. As predicted, when Watanuki spun around his face was merely surprised, covered over thinly with irritation.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" he snapped, but it was clearly just a show. The evening's episode seemed to have shaken him. Doumeki was filled with the inexplicable urge to walk over and support him with both arms, calm him down. Instead, he poured a cup – two cups – and mentally sat on his hands. The gesture would fail spectacularly if he attempted it.

Nothing was said for a while, but the silence turned awkward too quickly and left Doumeki with nothing to say. He was rarely verbose, but it seemed as if all command of language had left him and he was reduced to sipping his tea and trying not to wait for Watanuki to lose patience and say something, anything.

It didn't take long, regardless. "I…thank you," he mumbled into his cup. Doumeki was momentarily surprised again. Thanks was a foreign gesture. If he laboured for it, he would have given up long ago, and as he did not, he wasn't sure how to deal with it now that he had it.

"For what?" he finally inquired, lacking anything else to say even though he had a pretty decent idea of the answer.

"Well, the tea," Watanuki began, swirling his. "The hospitality." It was impossible to see his face – he'd turned it – but Doumeki had a sneaking suspicion that it was currently bright red. "And…" The rest of the answer died a premature death as silence took hold again and the boy floundered, losing his control over his airflow.

Doumeki felt as if he was obligated to reply in some way, but he still had nothing to say. He settled on the redundant "it's late," realising as the words left his mouth that he was repeating himself. "We should sleep."

The "we" went by unremarked upon, much to his further surprise. Watanuki only nodded, turning his now clear face back. It was strange, how foreign and awkward the silence felt when there was absolutely nothing to say. Doumeki stood and left the cup where it was, finding a spare shirt for the other to change into. To his relief, he didn't receive another thanks.

He left the futon to Watanuki, finding some spare bedclothes and arranging them to his liking on the floor nearby. The other boy protested, but not enough that Doumeki relented. He reflected that he probably would have not relented anyway. That went beyond general hospitality; Watanuki should not sleep on the floor. Call it superstition, call it protectiveness, or anything, really. It just wouldn't have been right. Just like lunch without him, or not being ready to go on a wild rescue mission.

Whether this had always been the case, or something new, was not important and probably doomed forever to be unknown. It didn't really matter. Just so long as he had his routine, and it wasn't disturbed by the not-right any more than normal life demanded (or perhaps abnormal, where Watanuki was concerned), he could be content.

And moments like this, lying and listening to the other boy's breathing slow and grow even, he could be happy. So it didn't matter.

He was just about to wonder how much Watanuki would object to that statement when he drifted off to sleep himself.