Ok, I rewrote this because I realized my first edition of it made no sense, even to me. So once again here is the prologue to "Doumeki's Thoughts on the Matter."

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My obsession with him all started when we were in our first week of 8th grade. I had noticed no one had gone near one of our classmates, a quiet boy who rarely looked up. When I spoke to the others about it, I had heard the most awful things said about him, about how he was weird and because he didn't have parents he spoke to imaginary people to attract attention to himself.

Having known a lot of people from living at my family's temple, I knew that no one wanted to be alone and having never seen this "weirdness" for myself, I wanted to talk to him. When we changed our assigned seats in the middle of the semester, I had my chance. I was seating next to him when I "dropped" my eraser pretending not to notice. I saw him pick up the eraser and then felt him tap me on the shoulder.

I looked over to him and had to catch my breath, the boy was handing me the eraser with a smile, one like I had never seen before. It was so gentle and yet the look in his eyes blue eyes spoke of a deep pain. I couldn't say anything to him, I just nodded my head in thanks and looked back down to my desk lost in thought. Those thoughts brought me to when my grandparents took me to the ocean. My grandfather told me about how sailors would tell many tales, many of which said that the ocean sees all and always will. That the ocean has an endless emotions with a depth to match. He also told me that even with all that we now know, there is still much undiscovered and looking into the boy's eyes, I could help but to compare him to the ocean, which had such an impact on me.

I never did get a chance to know why he held such pain, that year turned out to be one of the worst of my life. It happened in the middle of class, the principal had come to collect me, answering my look of confusion she told me that my grandfather was in the hospital. Lost in shock I looked back at the boy who had captured my attention and who I never did get the courage to speak too. I saw a look of confusion and one of worry for me, I left the classroom hurrying to the hospital before I could break down in class.

That week I never left the hospital except to shower and change my clothes, I was trying to spend as much time possible with my grandfather. He told me as many stories as he was able, he told me the storehouse was now mine and he told me that he would watch over me from beyond. I told him of the boy with the ocean eyes and how much they seemed to be hurting, I told him of my silly plans to befriend him and how much I wanted to take that pain away. My grandfather smiled at me and told me he felt much the same way once.

The night he died we spoke of my spiritual power and since we didn't know how much time he would have left, he told me how I would need to continue training, what to read and do, he also told me things about my archery I needed to work on. He also made me promise that when I found the person who called out to my soul the most, that I would do whatever was necessary to help them. Before my body succumbed to sleep that night, I told him I loved him. I heard him reply that he would always be watching over me, and would also watch over my most special person. The next morning he seemed to just be sleeping, but with the heart monitor still I knew him to be dead. At least he died peacefully, with a smile on his face.

It didn't take long for the funeral to be held, knowing that he didn't have long left my mother had already started making arrangements. The day before the funeral, my mother had gone with me to the school to un-enroll me. I walked to my classroom and took my stuff out of my desk , when I looked to the side to get one more glance at the pain filled boy, I noticed he was absent. Looking outside I think I knew the reason why, it was a dreary day which seemed to fit my mood. Whenever it rained the boy never showed up, I remember the teacher saying that he always called in sick on these days.

Knowing that I would possibly never see this boy again my mood seemed to get worse. With all the hustle and bustle of the next couple of months I slowly forgot about the quiet boy. At the end of the year I found a painting that I was drawn to, it was an oil painting of the ocean. The ocean in this picture was not calm and serene, instead it was a picture of the end of a storm. The gray clouds were beginning to disperse, with hints of light peaking through, and the ocean itself was still rolling big waves and yet they were back to their normal peaceful color. All in all this picture was a bit of a conundrum. It reminded me of the stories that my grandfather told me, with this thought in mind I used my saved up allowance to buy it. It wasn't until almost three years later I realized the true reason I bought it.

After my mother had taken me out of school, I was trained in priesthood duties and exorcism like my grandfather had wanted. It was two years of hard training and on top of that my mother had taken to teaching me normal education so that I could eventually re-enroll. When I felt I couldn't improve by myself anymore, I participated in an archery contest. I won first place for the regional championship. That summer, I received an invite to a private school, this school was renowned for taking for only taking exceptional students, because I had placed first in the championship I was being invited.

Showing the letter to my mother we had agreed that it was time for me to go back to school. Thanks to my mother tutoring me I received high marks in the entrance exams, making it easier for me to get back into the routine of things. It was an unexceptional sophomore year, I turned out popular with the girls, thanks to my archery skill and my inherited looks. Whenever I could I helped out at the temple, that was until my mother forced me out and told me to get a social life, I still helped in the mornings and weekends however. Now during my free time, I went to the storehouse and read grandfather's books and journals.

A couple of weeks into the new semester, a new student came to class. Apparently the reason hadn't been was that he got into some kind of accident and was recovering until now. When he looked up to face the class I had to catch my breath. It was that boy, the one with the sad eyes. The one that I had wanted to befriend all those years ago, I guess fate had given me a second chance. Listening to his introduction closely, I learned that his name is Kimihiro Watanuki, and that he was invited to this school because he was highly skilled in cooking. Apparently the last school he went to referred him due to how much like a pro he seemed.

Over the next couple of weeks I watched him whenever I could, I noticed that he seemed to put on in act whenever someone was watching. He put on fake emotions especially when it came to a girl from the class next door named Himawari. He acted like she blessed the ground she walked on and that she was the most beautiful girl on the planet, but I think I was the only one who noticed how empty his eyes seemed when he spoke. One day I happened to be walking by and heard the conversation, I couldn't help but to put my two sense in. The thing that happened next was the most amazing thing I had ever seen.

He whirled around and started hissing at me like a scared cat. His eyes lit up with real emotions and I swear it was that moment, with my breath caught in my throat, that I fell in love with him. I also knew that, with anger, he didn't have time to put on a mask so he showed his true feelings. With that thought in mind, I vowed to make that fire come back, even if it makes him an enemy to me. As long as he shows his true emotions, I'm happy for him, and if anybody noticed I paid a lot more attention to cats after that, no one knew the true reason why.

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So what do you think of this chapter? Is it a good prologue? Does it fit?

Please let me know what you think!