There was something like a muffled crash inside the apartment and instead of knocking, he pulled out the spare key Watanuki had begrudgingly given him years ago. He almost didn't believe his eyes when he entered.
The apartment was in shambles. Clothing and items were strewn everywhere, as if they'd been thrown. He carefully picked his way through the mess, avoiding the glass even though he wore shoes. There was another crashing sound up ahead and he detoured into the living room.
His eyes widened when Watanuki came into view. It didn't look like he'd changed his clothes for three days and his shirt hung open to reveal his pale, dirty and heaving chest. His eyes were so red it was hard to tell they used to be blue from all his crying and there were even small dents in the wall.
"Oi."
All he got, instead of the habitual yelling that his name was not 'oi', which he promptly ducked, was Watanuki's chemistry book thrown at his head. Those eyes were wild with hurt, pain, and grief. Watanuki was as loud in his grieving as he ever was when he was doing ordinary things.
"GET OUT."
Doumeki did the opposite. He went in further, dodging other flying objects. This apartment was not the same antiseptic and hospital clean one that he'd seen over the past few years.
"You haven't been in school." He paused, not exactly used to giving comfort with things like this. How did you give comfort to Watanuki when the only possible result would be flailing and yelling, even as he cried? "I know what happened bothered you a lot--"
"Bothered me a lot?! You know nothing!"
It was only when Doumeki felt that Watanuki might injure himself in his throwing and violence that he restrained him, forcing him to sit on the floor with him, hugging him tightly so he could pin the boy's arms. When he wanted to, Watanuki had some strength and there was needed a fine balance with enough of his own strength to subdue Watanuki without hurting him.
Which made him realize Watanuki was not wearing his glasses. He glanced around and frowned a little as he saw pieces of the glasses near the window, looking as if they'd been stepped on repeatedly with the overwhelming intention of breaking them into thousands of pieces.
The boy was crying so hard it was almost hard to hear the words around the sobs. "It…no, he was my whole family. He was always here, winding around me and looking at me with those beady little eyes. There never was a day gone past that I didn't feel his love for me wafting off of him in waves. Until Kuda, I'd never felt so loved before. It didn't matter what I might do, he'd still love me for it. Do you have any idea what it's like to be loved so unconditionally like that?"
"Kimihiro…"
Kuda was the name that Watanuki had chosen for the kudakitsune, the little pipe fox spirit, that had stayed with him for the past four years. He hadn't known that the pipe fox spirit meant so much to Watanuki, especially when he was always flailing about when it crawled up in his shirt.
"KUDA!!"
Doumeki didn't have the time or the inclination to cover his ears at Watanuki's grief stricken scream. His arms tightened, pulling Watanuki closer, even as finally whatever violent grief he felt had left him just so tired he could only cry limply. From just looking at Watanuki, he could tell that the boy hadn't bathed himself once since coming home three days ago, or took care of anything. He probably hadn't even eaten.
"Come on, let's take care of you."
"No," came that resounding whisper.
"Do you think the kudakitsune would have wanted to see you like this? When it…When he died that night, he did it for you. Do you really want to disgrace his memory, what he loved so much, by wallowing in this? You should remember him as he was before, when he was so happy to be with you."
Whether or not Watanuki believed his words, it was clear that he wanted to believe them and that was all that Doumeki cared about. The wounds from the pipe fox spirit's death would not be gone easily or lightly. Probably Watanuki would have more downs that ups for a long while and he'd have to say these things again sometime. But Watanuki wouldn't go through it alone.
End
This is dedicated to my
dog, Summerseas Shadowhunter, who died today. I feel a lot like
Watanuki would if he lost the kitsune. I know what Doumeki's saying,
what my mother told me this morning when she told me he finally just
went to sleep, that I should remember him when he was young and able to
run and have fun, but that doesn't help the hole that he left behind
when he died. And I suppose this fic is spawned from this feeling.