Disclaimer: I do not own xxxholic or any of its characters. This is a fan made story intended for fun.
Beer, sake, wine and salted squid, join us! In which Yuuko owns a Burlesque Bar, Watanuki is a bar tender, and in the midst of this most eccentric setting lies a secret behind each person that has visited Yuuko-san…but no secret is greater than the one which hangs on Watanuki's past…a secret that has and will change the lives and future of people who will cross paths with him. Especially that person…and those people…
For now though, Watanuki was worried about one thing and one thing only...
-'Boxes…' he grumbled miserably. 'Batons…half ragged kimonos…feather boas…pins, combs…katanas…treasure chests…this. Is. Hope. Less….in all. This…mess…' his brow quivered dangerously, the vein at his temple pulsing with more vigor as his voice gradually augmented octaves into an orchestrated crescendo. 'HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FIND YUUKO SAN'S FAN!'
The pile of objects he had been carelessly mounting to his right side shuddered before tumbling down over Watanuki, burying him under jumbles of exotic artifacts. His screams had been too much of a catalyst.
-'Mistress's fan!'
-'Mistress's fan!'
A chorus of childish chanting echoed through the room. He heaved a sigh. Even if he couldn't see through the mound of junk, he could tell that Moro and Maru had found the fan and therefore, making all his pain and efforts turn into meaningless ashes.
He pushed aside the box that had crashed over his head, looking down at himself. It was a miracle none of Yuuko's junk hadn't killed him…yet.
-'There are no such things as miracles or coincidences, only the inevitable or fate,' a voice droned on lazily.
He coughed hard as clouds of smoke drowned the room in a daze of mist. He tried waving it away with a flailing hand; it failed miserably.
-'Would you quit smoking that thing in doors…' he muttered, freeing himself from the last kimono and coming to a stand.
As always, Yuuko was in an indecent posture. Elegant, refined…
-'But totally indecent!' he accused, pointing a finger at the falling kimono, revealing a bare shoulder and shifting to point at her nude leg propped against the door frame, tip toes caressing it with what he thought was longing. He shuddered and coughed as she exhaled another cloud of white smoke from her wooden Kiseru pipe in his general direction.
-'It can't be helped,' was her only defense. With a mischievous smile, she added: 'You failed to find my fan, that's quite rare…'
-'Watanuki failed! Watanuki failed!' the two little girls intoned, running circles with the gigantic, peacock fan propped up over their heads.
-'THAT IS UNECESSARY!' he yelled, shaking his fist.
-'Wah! Watanuki is angry with defeat…so rude…' Yuuko whispered loudly in a fake conspiratorial voice.
-'Rude Wata-Wata! Rude Wata-Wata!'
-'WHAT'S WITH THE NICKNAMES!?' He turned away, doing the best he could to ignore their snickering, to tidy the room up. 'By the way, shouldn't you be getting ready? The show is going to start in an hour…' he asked nonchalantly, glancing back at Yuuko.
She gave him her most sage-like smile, walking towards him with graceful steps, feet bare and silent against the wooden floors. It was like watching smoke undulate over still water. Entrancing…a reminder to why she was the most famed Burlesque Dancer in the underground city. A sorceress of men…that was from where she had gotten her nickname: the Witch.
She cupped his still face with her empty hand, between her index and thumb and said:
-'I want to eat tamagoyaki and salted squid for my midnight snack tonight,' she whispered in his ear.
-'You…you…YOU TRICKSTER!' he accused, crawling away from her.
-'Haha! You make such weird movements!' she laughed, pointing at him like a child before walking out of the 'treasure room' flanked by Moro and Maru, still carrying the huge fan. He could hear them still chanting. 'Weird Wata! Weird Wata!'
-'Troublesome…ego centric witch…'
-'Oh, and don't forget the sake!' he heard her call from down the hall, 'as payment for calling me a witch!'
How was it possible for her to hear everything?! He shook his fist in frustration but refrained from giving her a scathing reply, if only to not make his punishment worse. Instead, he turned back towards the small mess of objects and continued his tedious task of placing them back in their random spots. Someday, he would have to re-organize this…
He stared around after he was done. Lingerie and extravagant kimonos seemed to take up much space, but if one looked closely, passed the normalcy of the room as storage for fancy dresses, it was obvious that some things were down right peculiar. Antics were his best guess. But, even the room gave off a funny feel, like waves of energy, both ensnaring and foreboding.
He shook his head and sighed. He was always like this, daydreaming and seeing things that weren't really there. A vivid imagination was what everyone said. Everyone, except Yuuko-san. Then again, Yuuko san was, in a nut shell, insane. Her opinions, therefore, couldn't be given the same caliber of certainty as a…normal person. But what was normal in this World? Not the miserable people that went day in and day out dragging along a burden of unfulfilled wishes over their shoulders. Not the people with fake smiles and well crafted masks.
Then who? Who could tell him what he really was?
He shook his head. He shouldn't be having these thoughts, they only weighted him down. And plus, even through Yuuko-san's greediness and capricious nature, he couldn't turn a blind eye to the affection and help she had given him.
He had been alone for so long after his parent's death, that the misfortune which had caused his meeting Yuuko-san, and therefore, becoming her slave, had been a sort of blessing. He remembered it with a sort of masochistic fondness if anything.
He had broken what she had called her 'most precious vase', which she had been searching for for ages. 'The Daffodil Jug', named for its beautifully painted walls depicting a river crested with giant daffodils. He didn't know how he had ended up in the old 'Jack of all Trades' Shinto shrine, but, he had been there, in half a daze as always and had accidentally bumped into her newly purchased jug.
'That cost me a fortune,' she had whined, half crying over the broken pieces. Now he knew they had been fake tears, but back then, it had caused him much misery and he had stupidly said the catalyst words. The words one should never speak, even to a beautiful lady in distress.
'I'll do anything to repay you.' That's when she had looked up at him with that sage, all knowing smile and said: 'One should never say "I'll do anything". But, it can't be helped.' And she had smiled mischievously. 'Your name?'
'Watanuki Kimihiro…'
'Birthday?'
'April…April 1st.'
'So willing to serve already. Watanuki Kimihiro, as repayement for breaking my jug, you will work for me until you have covered the costs. Not more and not less.'
Of course, he had nodded in agreement, still trapped in his daze. But, that was the first time…after the old shop keeper had noted how much of a coincidence it was that she should have met a young capable man when she had been asking for an assistant for a long time, he had heard her say:
'There are no such things as coincidences or accidents, only the inevitable.'
He still wondered what she had meant by that. It had seemed to have a deeper meaning than just the chance meeting between a job hunter and a job offerer.
He sighed again. He had gotten himself into this mess. Following stupid butterflies…now he remembered, it had been that azure butterfly in the midst of winter, fluttering around innocently. It had caught his eye and he had followed it, right into his doom.
-'And now…I'm shamelessly working in a Burlesque bar…serving perverted drunkards…' he moaned, trailing his feet over the wooden hallway as he made his way towards his room.
A surprised gasp escaped his lips as he caught a glimpse of the old grandfather clock.
-'It's already this late!' he yelped, making frantic hand gestures as he now rushed to his room. 'I need to be ready! The clients will be here any minute!'
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-'It's time now, isn't it…' Yuuko muttered thoughtfully to Maru and Moro.
The two young girls nodded, helping their Mistress into her kimono.
She placed a hand on each of their heads. One child with short blue hair and one with long pink curls; one couldn't be without the other…that thought made her smile knowingly. But she was no longer thinking about the two girls in front of her. No, it was her other assistant who came to mind.
-'Yes, that time has come, hasn't it…Clow?'
She walked to her dressing table, and pulled one of her earrings off, placing it into a fitting keyhole and unlocking the drawer. She pulled out a framed picture of a man dressed in a traditional hakama and haori, sporting short black hair and stoic brown eyes, arms crossed over his chest, a bow resting on the ground beside him.
-'You said you would help, didn't you Haruka Doumeki.' Her fingers played mindlessly over the gold frame and her maroon eyes shined with mischievous intent. 'And a promise is a promise.'
To be continued…
Author's note: Well, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my fic.
If you enjoyed it, please let me know, reviews are always nice.
Thank you for reading.