Watanuki remembers him visiting Yuuko a long time ago. He looked different then. A different face, a different personality. But it's definitely the same man. The blue box he has left at the bottom of the garden is an obvious clue, but that's not why Watanuki recognizes him. His soul is unmistakable, the many years and the many sorrows apparent on his face. There is none other like him, though if there was anyone similar, it would have been Yuuko. The Dimension Witch and the Time Lord – two mysterious, wonderful souls.

He thinks this as he watches the man approach the house, a sober expression on his face. Watanuki remembers a different face that laughed and drank with Yuuko as they talked of dimensions and times beyond this one. But like that face, this one still has those same depths, caused by experiences beyond nearly any human's belief. This man is a traveller, a wanderer who can never stay in any one place. The opposite of himself. And far, far older and wiser.

Watanuki inhales deeply on his pipe and slowly exhales as the man sits on the porch beside him.

"She's gone, isn't she?" asks the man, the one they call the Doctor.

"Yes," he replies, trying not to let that one simple word drag out the old familiar ache in his breast.

"I'm so sorry," says the Doctor, and there is true feeling behind his words.

Watanuki doesn't reply, and instead gets to his feet and offers the man a cup of tea. He leaves to make it, and returns to find the man exactly as he left him, staring into space. He sets the cups down, and sits again himself. "Thank you," says the Doctor. There is a pause as they both sip their tea.

"You are not just here for news, are you?" It's not really a question.

"No, I'm not," he replies, "I've lost something, you see. Someone, actually." His smile is bitter.

"And you need help in finding them. You know, the pri-"

"I will pay whatever price."

"Very well. Come with me."

Together they go inside and Watanuki prepares what the Doctor needs and the Doctor pays his price. A steep price, but a fair trade for what it is he wants.

He goes to leave.

"You know," says the Doctor suddenly, turning at the door of his blue box, "There is always hope."

"No," says Watanuki with certainty, "There is only hitsuzen."

"Oh, come on!" says the Doctor, with the first sign of the vigour and enthusiasm that Watanuki remembers, "Don't be ridiculous! Nothing's inevitable! Everything's in flux and can be changed, save for fixed points in time. That witch and I never did agree on that!" He leans in, "Remember this, Kimihiro. Don't ever give up on the world!" He turns on his heel, and opens the door to the box. "Oh, and thanks for this," he waves his purchase in the air, "You don't know how much this means to me." He disappears inside. Soon, a wheezing sound fills the air, and slowly the box fades away, leaving Watanuki staring at an empty space in the garden.

"Everything can be changed, huh?" he whispers, and a little half smile flits its way across his lips. "Well, we shall see." But now the sun looks just a little bit brighter and the future a little less bleak.