This is kind of a "what if" story, on a similar theme to Syaoran and Sakura's situation when we first meet them in xxxholic. I wondered why Domeki was always looking after Watanuki, even from the beginning, so I made up a story about it. I'm reasonably certain that xxxholic thus far has taken Watanuki from first-year to third-year in high school, since he was already in it when the story began and he's had two birthdays. This takes place right before he started high school.

Domeki kneels in the dirt, Watanuki's head on his knees. He searches the face for signs of life, but the other boy doesn't so much as twitch an eyelash. Hesitantly, he puts out a hand towards Watanuki's jaw line, hoping he'll find a pulse. As his fingertip hovers a scant fraction of an inch from Watanuki's neck, a long hand lays itself along his shoulder, causing him to freeze in shock.

Domeki glances sharply upwards to see a tall, elegant woman with long flowing hair standing over him. She removes her hand from his shoulder and goes down on one knee beside him, sliding one impeccably manicured finger beneath Watanuki's chin and raising his face slightly.

"This child has been gravely injured," she says.

"I can see there's something wrong," Domeki replies, "but there's no blood or anything."

'The injury is not one of the body," the woman says. "But you did not see what caused it." It's not a question.

"No," Domeki admits. "It looked like something was attacking him, but I saw nothing there."

"Something did attack him," the woman says. "It left when you arrived." She turns Watanuki's head slightly to the side. "But he won't recover unless something is done."

"Like what?"

"To heal this child, a price must be paid." The woman gives Domeki a long look, one he cannot read.

"What price is that?"

"Something very precious," the woman tells him. "This child is your best friend, isn't he?"

"We've known each other since kindergarten," Domeki acknowledges.

"So." The woman gives Domeki another long, undecipherable look. "That relationship is the most precious thing the two of you hold in common. That relationship is what must be given."

"Given?" Domeki says. "How?"

"This child will lose all memory of you," the woman explains. "He will have no recollection of ever having met you, nor will those memories return."

"But otherwise, he'll die."

"Yes."

Domeki looks down at Watanuki's still face. Memories flit through his mind---the first time they'd been allowed to go to a festival alone…the third grade school play, where Watanuki had been a rabbit and Domeki had been a tree…ten years of fishing trips and birthday celebrations and shared lunches. All that gone.

Domeki bites his lower lip, touches Watanuki's hair gently, then looks up at the woman.

"Bring him back," he says.

The woman gives him another long look, but this time it's one of sympathy and understanding. She slides an arm under Watanuki's shoulders.

"I will take this child home," she says. "Go to your own home now. And prepare yourself for the difficult times ahead of you."

Walking home, Domeki thinks about making a new friend out of an old one. No matter how close they may become again in the future, there won't ever be that bond again of a shared childhood. When they begin high school together, as they planned, Watanuki will not know Domeki as anything but a solitary, idiosyncratic classmate---all their lives, from this day forward, Watanuki will look at Domeki in a different way than Domeki regards him, and he'll never even know it.

Well, Domeki will get Watanuki's friendship back again, slow and painful as the process may be. And this time, Domeki will do a better job of protecting him.

fin