Author's Notes

This is set in the first season of xxxHolic (the anime; the quotes come from all over the place though) but is AU for Digimon Frontier. Another twin meeting variation. That reminds me, there's a oneshot I need to write for that too….two actually. One's a crossover with Eden of the East. Blame my Mum for these. She's the one bringing new animes from the local library.

Because this is an AU on the part of digimon frontier, all the quotes are from xxxHolic. Most of them are Yuuko's actually, but then again, she's got the best lines.

Anyway, six chapter plan. Not too long, hence why I didn't sideline it.


Meetings

'They are very much like you and Dōmeki, Watanuki. But you should be more grateful. After all, you have something more that they don't.' – Yuuko gets an interesting pair of customers…

Kouichi K/Koichi & Yuuko I


"Once you notice something, you can never return to the time when you did not notice it." – Haruka Dōmeki


Chapter 1

Barrier

One would imagine that all right-handed fingers (they were, interestingly enough, a class without left-handed students) would be stiff by now, after sitting a two hour long exam for Japanese which left them all scrawling madly at the end, but apparently that didn't apply for one of their classmates, writing with a fluid hand that showed no resistance at all to the refined control that saw the neat characters form upon the previously blank papers. The pencil easily balanced between his forefinger and thumb, writing without inhibition as the blue eyes followed and the mind behind them thought-spoke the words. He wasn't thinking about his writing though; the words weren't meant for eyes but his own so illegibility was not an issue. The lead markings on the earlier pages had in fact already begun to fade into a misted and jumbled mess. He'd written those entries before his hand had become practiced in the art of scrawling rapidly and without pause.

The simple (and admittedly cheap) exercise book balanced on his knees as the upper part of his legs acted as a makeshaft table. His back was partially against the tree that sat in the corner of the school yard but the rest of him slumped in way most parents (or adults who either took a genuine interest in his wellbeing or simply enjoyed poking their noses into other people's business) would chide him for. It was true he'd probably develop a permanent curvature of the spine if he persisted in that position…and it was one he adopted quite frequently. But he was as flexible as a cat, and that wasn't something he took for granted.

His mother was ill. It wasn't anything serious, the Doctors claimed. A month or two of rest; a holiday would be preferred, and she'd be…"right as rain" were his exact disagreed with all aspects of that. She couldn't afford a rest that long; she had not only herself to support but a child as well, and she could easily lose custody over him during that time. It was true that her ex-husband could support them; he was a businessman and amassed quite an income, but he had his own family. In any case, he was already doing far more than his fair share, because while he did have a responsibility to his son as a father, he had none whatsoever to his ex-wife. Of course, that wasn't something Tomoko chose to divulge to her son; she admittedly had told the boy very little of his father and the terms of their divorce in the first year, when the wounds had still been fresh. Koichi had never brought the topic up again, eventually giving up the hope that things would somehow reconcile, and often in the years following Tomoko couldn't help but wonder whether she had made a mistake. She seriously doubted though, whatever anyone else thought, that her son truly hated or blamed his father for anything, but she knew as well as anyone that there were times where rationale was washed away in favour of emotion and a seeking anchor-point for blame.

That, truthfully, had nothing to do with her illness either. She had been sick well before the divorce. She knew what it was; the Doctor had only been a necessity that could get her the medical certificate she had needed to take single sick-day. She'd rather not have had to, but she knew her limits after all, and there was no sense forcing an emergency she could escape with a little more caution. Some other symptoms, like fatigue and back pain, persisted, and it was in fact because of that that mother (and son joining her) engaged in exercise for at least a half hour every afternoon, flexing and extending the muscles and slowly conditioning them. For Tomoko, it loosened the cramps associated with the pain, and for Koichi, it increased the flexibility of youth…and hopefully saved him from developing a hunch.

Still, while it was a frequent position, he didn't persist in it for long, and it was only a couple of minutes before he carefully shut the book and placed it on the lid of his bento-box. several classmates came over at that pint: two boys and a girl.

'How'd you find the exam?' one, a brunette with rather soft eyes, asked politely in an effort to strike up a bit of a conversation.

His male companion scoffed. 'You're asking him? He actually managed to finish'

That wasn't strictly true, as no-one was entirely satisfied with the exam. Some, like Koichi, had been interrupted by the bell in the middle of proof-reading their work…which was better than the majority who'd been writing without pause to the last second. Still, most, particularly the teachers and more diligent students, considered at least a single proof-reading after answering all the questions on a test paper to be included in the completion thereof.

'I didn't,' Koichi answered, looking up before shifting ever so slightly. It was a subtle question, but none of the three sat with him, so he simple tucked the pencil behind his ear and temporarily covered his bento box. 'It was okay though.'

The boy scoffed as the black haired girl stared in shock. 'Okay?' she repeated. 'My fingers have blisters on them.' She showcased her hand, demonstrating a small red spot on her index finger. 'Oh, I can't believe I barely got to start that last-'

The air got slightly denser, almost as if the temperature had risen by several degrees, and he shifted a little restlessly.

A pair of girls joined the three standing, and they all sat down. There was plenty of room for the five to sit and still be separate from the sixth, and whether intentionally or not, that was what wound up happening. Koichi didn't abandon his spot however; he had the shade of the tree in his little niche, and he simply slid the lid off the bento box.

It might have been a jibe at the fact that he had no company, and in that case he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they had gotten to him. It might have been entirely unintentional, in which case there was no reason to give up his place in the world, no matter how small it might be.

He had only taken a single bite of rice before he picked up his makeshaft journal again as the conversation in front of him shifted to tangents. The blue eyes barely wavered from their page for the rest of the lunch period, except to get a little food into him. If he had been home, eating lunch (or dinner or any meal for that matter) with his mother, she probably would have forced him to eat more. But she wasn't, and three quarters of his bento-box's contents went back into his locker. He could finish it off after he got home. Maybe it could even be his dinner, seeing as his mother was working late that night.

It didn't get any warmer. But it didn't get any cooler either.


Everyone was still talking about that Japanese exam by the end of the day, but there was no further comment from Koichi's part. For him, the exam was exactly as he said: "okay". It wasn't too difficult, and it wasn't an easiness that instilled overconfidence. It was simply okay, just as an exam should be. Challenging enough to squash egos, easy enough to be an obstacle that every student should have the potential to jump over. It was how the exams worked after all; there was always at least one question or aspect that differentiated the top few students from the rest of the group, and it was generally deemed the "impossible quarter"…if only because the section was typically worth twenty-five percent of the overall mark for whatever test or assignment was in question.

That didn't stop people complaining about the difficulty of the question. No-one asked him though except his classmate from lunch, and he was currently engaged in conversation elsewhere. Some gave him almost scathing looks; he was normally one of the people who scored those extra marks. In fact, he very rarely missed them. But even if he did, that wasn't going to give anyone else the scores they wanted. That had nothing to do with him, and if they asked for help, he'd be more than willing to give it. But no-body asked, and he never offered.

All throughout lunch and following into his remaining classes, the air had somehow become stilted, or in any case, more so than usual. He didn't particularly have a standard to compare to, but the parks, when empty at night, was when the air seemed to be lightest and easiest to breathe in.

Apparently a lot of people were regretting the lack of time; the whispers followed him everywhere. None came directly to him, but his head still spun as he washed the blackboard. It was his turn, along with a few others, to keep the classroom in shape.

'I know I messed up in the second essay…'

He looked up as another classmate, this one a blonde by the name of Shintate, spoke. Not to him though; she was talking to her friend, the brunette that was helping her straighten up all the tables and wipe them down.

His own essay burnt in his mind as he bent down to retrieve the cloth that had somehow fallen from his hands before continuing his work. No-one turned. No-one had even noticed.

He left when the blackboard was clean and dry, signing his name on the roster sheet. His eyes strayed up for some reason, and he found his name repeated…almost two months ago, he realised. He'd signed it in pencil then too, and the lead had somewhat faded. Just like the first few pages in his book.

It wasn't important though. No-one looked at the older pages.


'Oh, you're here. Good.'

Watanuki almost jumped out of his skin when Yuuko, dressed in a flowing grey and black kimono, the outfit topped off with a hair combto hold her long hair in a tight bun and a fan tucked into her black obi.

'I feel like wagashi today,' the dimension witch said. 'The dusting can wait.'

The senior high-school student blinked. 'Wagashi?'

'Yes,' the other responded calmly.

'Well…are you having a tea ceremony?'

'No,' the woman replied calmly. 'I just crave it.'

'Wagashi, wagashi,' Maru and Moro chanted, appearing from a door to the school-boy's right and dancing between him and his employer (the word was tentative, but it was the one that was often used). 'The Mistress craves wagashi.'

'Indeed.'

'But that will take ages to make.'

Her smile became almost devilish. 'If it's too much trouble, I'll just have you do the dusting.' She put a finger to her chin. 'Oh, and the brass needs polishing too. They're almost black. And the sheets need a wash. And the store-house needs clearing –'

'I did that yesterday!' Watanuki cried. 'How can it possibly be dirty again?'

'Mokona's taking a nap.' Her earth brown eyes bored into his own blue ones. Her words almost sounded like a threat. Which it probably was; if the black Mokona got busy in the storeroom, it would take days to righten it up again.

'I'll get started on the wagashi,' the boy sighed. 'You shouldn't eat so many sweets though.'

Her smile turned into something a little more threatening.

'I guess you'll have to use something other than sugar in the tea then.' She yawned a little. 'My, the weather is dreary today. Bring me some sake before you get started.'

'You really need to cut down on your-'

But Yuuko simply lifted a hand in temporarily farewell and slid the door open, vanishing behind it.

'Why do I let her walk all over me like this?' Watanuki grumbled to himself, pulling the white apron he normally adorned for "work" over his black school outfit.

'And make it snappy,' the woman said from the other side of the screen.

'I'm hurrying. I'm hurrying.'

At that moment, the rain began to patter gently outside. He really hoped Yuuko had everything he needed in the kitchen, or else he was going to have to ask for an umbrella. And asking her for more favours was a thing he'd like to avoid…although he was technically working for her, so she could give him the umbrella without adding more hours onto a debt that was vanishing into the horizon.

Ah, who was he kidding? This was Yuuko after all.


Koichi hadn't brought an umbrella with him; they only had one, and he'd been hoping to make it home before the forecasted storm broke out. He would have too, but he'd been dawdling…or perhaps zoning out was a more accurate term. His mother on the other hand would be stuck walking home in the thick of the rain, so it wasn't difficult to make the decision about who had caught the umbrella.

After all, he didn't plan on wandering off course. It just happened.

It had started with that heavy feeling that had persisted the moment the exam had been completed, and had steadily grown to an almost suffocating level, even if he had only come to realise it while washing the blackboards after school. It seemed everyone had been talking about the exam, and it had been a huge relief to be away from all that, on the streets where the world was far larger than the people…even if he did sometimes catch snatches of conversation.

It just bothered him for some reason. The people, not the street. It became mercifully emptier as the rain started up, but even before that he'd been savouring the sweet fresh air. The school air turned stale by the end of the day almost too often. He wondered if the buildings accommodated more students than they could handle, but their small apartment often held the same feeling. Something he couldn't help but feel the need to escape from.

He drew himself closer, burying his cold hands into the folds of his blazer. He felt like he couldn't even talk to his mother anymore about how he felt…and it wasn't just because she was working so hard, being so busy…and mostly for him to. After all, it would have been a lot easier if she was working to support only herself. That had always acted as a sort of barrier; the time of work and rest took her away from her son, but he'd had his grandmother, her mother, to talk to. But that was before she passed away. That was before she left her final words for him to unravel.

The next, and final, time he'd stepped into his grandmother's house, it had felt lighter. Emptier. Her face too had lost some weight; lines of age creasing away as her last breath escaped as a sigh. So caught up he had been, with both her words and her face, that he hadn't noticed the monotonous beep drag on until his mother's hand descended upon his shoulder and his head spun as if his blood sugar had reached an all time low.

The rain was somewhat relieving of all that weight, and he stood still as it became to come down heavier, enjoying the cold blanket running through his hair and soaking his clothes…but then thunder flashed in the sky and he jumped like startled cat and blue eyes swung around in search for shelter. There were several people on the street still; some had umbrellas sheltering them from the onslaught while others hurried away without such luxuries. One particular man almost knocked him over as he pelted past, and for a moment the boy's head spun again and he automatically reached out for any form of support before he fell over.

The fence he'd latched onto felt calm and comforting in his grip: inviting almost. The rain assaulted his face as he leaned against the support, attempting to draw a deep breath. It was getting heavier. Too heavy he realised. It wasn't just cooling the air and making it easier to breathe, it was dragging it down. Hot air rose; cooler air sunk. He was starting to shiver now; the rain wasn't so relaxing, so comforting anymore, and it was only increasing in intensity.

He looked around. Maybe there was something he could shelter under. Trees…not a good idea, what with the thunder and maybe the owner of the large house wouldn't mind if he stayed out of the rain for awhile. He'd rather not have to ask, but he had unfortunately chosen a bad day to wander far away from his home…and his head was still spinning.

Before he knew it, he was at the door, sheltered from the rain.


Yuuko looked up suddenly from where she had seated herself on a mat. There was a reed mat across from her, the same one Amewarishi had once sat upon. 'It looks like we have another customer,' she said, without even the barest hint of surprise. 'Watanuki, the tea and the wagashi if you please. Maru, Moro…the door.'

'Of course Mistress.' The pair of girls bowed and hurried off.

'You could have told me you wanted the wagashi because of a guest,' Watanuki grumbled. 'And must you always try and wheedle innocent people into doing business with you?'

'Innocent?' Yuuko raised a black eyebrow. 'That aside, haven't I told you before that only a person who has a wish can cross the barrier between worlds?'

The footsteps of Maru and Moro approached.

'The tea and the wagashi,' the proprietor (of a rather unusual shop) repeated. 'We will continue this discussion later.'

Watanuki left as well, just missing the group of three. When he came back, a boy about junior high school age was seated across from Yuuko.

'It's quite all right,' she was saying. 'It was fated for you to come here today.'

The boy looked up, and Watakuni spied eyes that were blue and yet somewhat unlike his own before they dropped again to stare at a soaked lap.

'Fate?' he repeated. The voice was rather quieter than his too. If one turned the tone monotonous, it almost sounded like a younger version of Dōmeki.

The tentative friend grimaced at the thought, but quickly abolished the expression as he set the contents of the tray between the pair.

'Would you like a towel?' he asked the younger boy.

Yuuko's earth-brown eyes were boring into him as he spoke, although he couldn't quite fathom why. It was a perfectly polite question, he reasoned. And he did the laundry anyway, so why should one dirty towel more or less make a difference in the grand scheme of things.

'No thank you,' the boy said softly.

'You're soaking wet,' the senior protested.

'I'm all right.'

'Leave it be Watanuki,' Yuuko cut in, although she didn't explain. Another thing they'd have to talk about later.

Koichi, for his part, had spoken the truth. He didn't need a towel; the rain wasn't so heavy anymore, separated by the barrier that was this strange house. It felt odd, but lighter than any place he'd ever visited before…save his grandmother's house during the time he and his mother had emptied it of its contents before it was re-leased. The cold it left on his skin had returned to its comforting state, and the reed mat kept the floor from becoming wet, which he was grateful for. It had certainly been convenient…and a rather unusual coincidence, unless the woman before him had been expecting someone else.

'It was no coincidence,' the raven haired woman spoke, watching the blue eyes, darker than her Watanuki's, drift to the mat their owner sat upon. The blue eyes shot up, startled, to meet her earth-brown, and she smiled in a manner that most would take to be gentle, if one didn't see the coldness and detachment underneath. 'I believe there is no such thing as coincidences in this world. As I said before, it was fated for you to come here today, and it was fated for the two of us to meet.' She paused, but when the other said nothing, simply averting his eyes in a slightly nervous manner, she continued. 'You're here because you have a wish, do you not?'

The boy lifted his eyes again as a pale hand snaked forward and took a cup, lifting it to its owner's red lips. 'A wish?' he repeated.

'A wish,' Yuuko confirmed. 'This is a shop for granting wishes.' The reddish eyes peered over the rim. 'I can grant any wish…provided appropriate payment is made.'

The boy's lips parted slightly as if to say something before he reconsidered, eyes drifting away from the steam rising from the tea to look upon the elaborate room.

'Is it real?' he asked finally, but without the stutter the older boy had expected.

Of all the reactions Watanuki had heard, that was a new variation to the initial disbelief. Particularly because the tone didn't seem particularly scathing…or disbelieving. It sounded more like that of a person half-caught in a dream.

'Drink some tea,' the woman instructed. 'It's not hot.'

Koichi stared at her for a moment, before slowly taking the cup.

'Now…your question.' Her expression didn't falter in the least, except for a small quirk of her lips in light amusement. 'Is what real?'

Watanuki stood awkwardly with the tray. After all, Yuuko hadn't dismissed him, and she had said the dusting could wait. That being said, nothing else on the list she had begun could be plausibly completed before he left…which left him standing awkwardly with the tray. Not that it was the first time he'd stood in on one of Yuuko's business deals. But this customer seemed particularly young. He had thought Yuuko drew some barrier between the dreams of children and the desires of adults. After all, the most she did for his…crush on Himawari was invite Dōmeki to gate-crash on any attempt to get together…although the stoic male seemed to be doing that on his own after the initial chaos with Angel.

The boy, still unnamed as far as the senior student named, seemed to stutter a little as he attempted to formulate an answer. 'Do you think…' he paused for a moment, and set the cup down without it ever touching his lips so he could wring his hands nervously instead. '…people damage, or somehow adversely change-?'

'Damage is an unnecessarily harsh word,' Yuuko cut in, starting the other, but she changed her statement as if in the light of reconsideration when her eyes met that of the speaker. 'Perhaps not. But I think "affecting" may be a better world. Not all changes are adverse after all.' There was a pause, as her lips tweaked further into what could be called a smile…or a smirk. 'You still haven't answered my question.'

Her eyes told a different story though, and as it was, Koichi wound up speaking more to his lap than the two humans in the room when he mumbled in answer: 'This place feels unchanged by humans somehow. The air is lighter.'

'It is, isn't it?' the witch agreed, taking another sip. 'You're trembling. Drink.'

The blue eyes lifted a little but did not meet hers, but he obeyed her request and took a tiny sip from the cup. A trill of warmth flew through his body, but the coolness the rain had given him remained behind. It was just warding off the extra chill, he realised, taking another sip almost automatically before keeping the cup in his hands…if only to keep the ten digits occupied.

'You are right,' Yuuko said after a fashion. 'This shop is both a part of this world and not. The outside is the world as you know it, but this shop exists everywhere there is someone who needs a wish granted and is willing to exchange a price of equal value. Because of the nature of this shop, I suppose it has to be somewhat resilient to the effect humans seem to have on the world around them.' Her smile became all that more mysterious. 'But I am curious to know why you believe the air to be heavier outside. Are you feeling light-headed now?'

Mute, the boy shook his head.

The woman drew back a little. 'Watanuki,' she said suddenly, taking a small green cake. 'Go wake Mokona if you please. I think he's slept more than enough.'


Yuuko's smile seemed halfway reminiscent to a mother as she silently listened to the boy talk with Mokona through the drawn screen.

'My, those two seem to be getting along well, don't they?' she asked conversationally.

'It's weird,' Watanuki responded. 'He was barely stringing words into a sentence when we were in the room.

Yuuko turned to him, this time with a rather annoying smirk plastered on her face. 'You mean you haven't guessed why he's here yet?'

A blank face followed her as she slid open the door, startling the boy who'd been enjoying a wagashi with the black Mokona.

'Mokona,' she called.

The black creature bounced onto her mat as she gracefully took a seat again.

'The rain is going to let up soon,' she pressed on, draining the last of her lukewarm tea before taking another sweet, offering half to Mokona who gratefully accepted it. 'So we had best get down to business. Why don't you tell me about your wish?'

Again, he seemed to struggle finding the words, but lacked the expected stutter, instead saying nothing at all.

Yuuko smiled again. 'You do not know me,' she pointed out. 'Nothing you say to me will leave this house.'

'It's not that,' the boy muttered. 'It's just-' His fingers twitched again, and his face started to burn a little. It was such an awkward situation for him; he normally wasn't in a situation where he was thrown into the spotlight without some sort of rehearsed answer, and yet this woman was constantly pushing him there.

And what wish was she talking about? Well…there were plenty of things he could want…but the only significant one he could think of was his family coming together again. He and his brother meeting in some ideal situation where the other would believe his tale, as crazy as it sounded, where his father could knock down the stereotypical image built about him, the man who had abandoned a wife and child…because he couldn't possibly be that bad if he had raised another son on his own for years following! And so his mother would be happy, would know her other son was safe and healthy, and then maybe she wouldn't need to work so hard…

'You do not know me,' Yuuko repeated. 'How much different is it taking to me than talking to that exercise book in your backpack?'

Watanuki blinked. A journal of some sort? He wondered. He couldn't help but think Yuuko was being a little nosy, but it was probable with her uncanny ability to know things that she simply wanted the other to talk for reasons of her own.

'Now, why don't you start with your name?'

There was another breath of silence before Koichi answered. 'It's Koichi.'

Watanuki noted the other was at least a tad smarter than him; he hadn't given his full name. And at least his birthday wasn't that blaringly obvious…even if he wouldn't change his name for the world.

'And your wish?' she persisted. 'Don't you want to meet your brother? Don't you want your family to be together again...or am I mistaken?'

There was another pause.

'Tell me, what is stopping you?'

Her eyes narrowed slightly as the air appeared to get denser.