Part Two
Fai Flourite was a sweet, temperant man. He was beautiful in a way that transcended genders, and had very distinct blue eyes and blond hair. A master baker, a wonderful boss, and an even better confidant.
Kurogane was not.
"Take that to the back, kid." The burly man said gruffly, hefting the larger than life bag of flour over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. Upon settling on his shoulders, he fell right to the floor, pinned by the burlap sack. He tried not to lose his dignity as Kurogane turned back to him with a glare. Watanuki gulped, for reasons unknown the body builder didn't like Watanuki very much, and as self-depreciating as he was, he still couldn't fathom why.
"Geez, what do you eat, kid? Are you a plant? Do you photosynthesize?" At least the comeback was more original that Watanuki would have given him credit for.
"Mr. Kurogane, stop teasing the newbie!" Sakura chirped, lifting the burlap sack from from his shoulders. Seriously, this girl had monstrous strength.
Other than a frown, Kurogane conceded with a muttered 'fine' whilst heaving another bag of flour.
"Any luck finding Syaoran?"
The smile dropped from her face, and Kurogane looked immediately like he shouldn't have asked.
"He's...still missing." she said quietly, dusting herself off.
Syaoran was a baker too, also employed with Fai, and Sakura's boyfriend. He was generally a good-natured guy, he knew how to take a joke and he and Sakura had been dating for almost their whole lives but they still never held hands in public. It was adorable.
Until Syaoran had been reported missing a couple weeks ago. Sakura was so worried she even gathered her wits to go ask Yuuko for the favor. The word of Yuuko being a crime lord wasn't as subtle as she thought it was, but she agreed regardless. Even with her various connections, the boy was nowhere to be found. Which explained the job posting.
However, like always it wasn't that simple.
Kurogane materialized behind him as stealthily as the ninja Fai always teased him as. Watanuki lept in surprise, holding a hand over his hammering heart and inwardly thanked himself for not letting out an undignified yelp. At least he still had his pride.
"Meet me at the back in 10. I have a job for you."
Kurogane's deep red eyes narrowed in slits when he said this, and Watanuki suppressed the involuntary shiver invoked by those words. The bodybuilder slipped away as quietly as he came and the clarinet played sighed in relief. That guy had a knack for making the simplest of commands sound like threats.
He dusted his hands of flour and smiled reassuringly to Sakura as he approached the back, feeling shame pass through him as he did so.
When we arrived, Kurogane was smoking a cigarette and talking to a girl that couldn't have been a day older than Sakura. She looked out of place, with her rich navy clothes, practically wreaking of wealth and prosperity. She had long silky black hair that curled up at the ends and gentle blue eyes, and looked incredibly doll like next to Kurogane. She stood out like a sore thumb in the shady alley, looking unaware of the dumpster she stood by, that Watanuki could practically smell the corpse he had mistakenly come across the other night when taking out the trash. Although knowing that he and Kurogane had a client, he still didn't know what she was doing there until he saw what was in her hand.
When he got close enough, he could hear the starting of a (one-sided) argument between them. Which was rendered strange in Watanuki's mind when he heard the thinly veiled threats in her voice pair with her disturbingly cheerful expression. He knew the look all too well to be able to ignore its implications.
"Are you sure you want to do this under the table? You didn't come up to par last month with the inventory. Fai-"
"-has nothing to do with this. And this month's inventory will be met, just you wait." Kurogane took a deep drag on his cigarette, not breaking eye contact. It almost looked like a skill from Watanuki's vantage point.
"While we're at it Tomoyo, how has the search been going?"
Tomoyo's face finally crumbled as he said this, and her eyes fell to the floor. The search was the investigation of Syaoran's disappearance, no doubt. The look on her face spoke volumes enough.
"No luck, eh? Well,"
Instead of answering, the behemoth of a man aimed a strong kick at the dumpster and it rattled with the brunt force Kurogane had forced unto it. Watanuki jumped back, thankful that he still wasn't seen during their exchange. Somehow he knew that the bodybuilder wasn't very fond of eavesdroppers.
Kurogane took in a calming breath and tapped the ashes of his cigarette and decided to put the whole thing out. "How many this week?"
Tomoyo brightened, passing over the plastic Ziploc bag, stuffed to the brim with a leafy green plant that Watanuki had recently gotten acquainted with in the past week.
Cannabis. Marijuana. Weed. Cush, whatever you call it was in that bag.
"Only 67 this time. I'm sure you'll have it done by Friday."
"It'll be signed,sealed,and delivered by Wednesday." Kurogane corrected, offering his hand to her in a cursory handshake that ended these business transactions.
The bodybuilder, clad in white button up, black slacks and n pron caught site of him and passed the bag off to him without breaking stride.
"Start rolling it tonight, we've got to meet with some dealers tomorrow."
Watanuki, used to being on the wrong side of the law didn't find fault with Kurogane's business dealings. He had already spent a majority of his life on the other side purchasing 'medication' that hadn't been permitted by the laws that were supposedly meant to protect him. And that his older-than-was-socially-acceptable ex-girlfriend was probably a mafia boss. All she was missing was her fedora and a golden tooth.
On second thought, knowing Yuuko she probably had both.
Watanuki sighed to himself. When had his life start to spiral out of control like this? He tucked the bag of weed into his pocket, He could roll a dozen tonight at the apartment before Doumeki came home from the theater. Which left a bigger, growing concern.
Doumeki.
The man (although they were the same age, he subconsciously still addressed himself younger because of a silent, but begrudging respect he felt, although would not admit for Doumeki.) had adopted stoicism when he had come home early one day to find Watanuki sprawled on their living room floor rolling blunts under a lamp with tongue stuck out in concentration. They hadn't spoke about it since, but seeing as they never really spoke much at all, nothing really changed.
They had a routine, Watanuki cooked and cleaned for Doumeki like a slave while the Neanderthal would offer him monosyllables as thanks, and once in a while he would be prompted to play the Clarinet gathering dust in the corner of the room (if not for long before Watanuki's eye for cleanliness battled with his avoidance issues.) and when he refused (read:outright rejected) Doumeki would play him a song on the guitar or trombone. He still particularly liked that day when Doumeki had played accompaniment from the inexpensive stereo with his trombone. Moonglow, it was called. The musician had silently complained that it would have sounded better if he had taken out his clarinet.
He just had to wait a year. Than he would be out of the man's hair and company. Doumeki's company had never been unwanted, in fact he felt no desire to leave. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that he could barely contain himself. He knew how it showed, in the boxed lunches practically manicured to perfection, the spotless apartment, the long lingering looks-
Watanuki jerked up at this, burning himself in the process. "shitshitshitshit-" he hopped on one foot, wringing his hand as he hopped to the sink. Sakura was at his side immediately and turned on the tap water. What was with people in this store and appearing out of nowhere? Was this a skill he was lacking?
"I always wonder why the natural reaction when one gets burned or cut is to jump up and down." Sakura laughs a bit to herself, turning the tap off.
"Same! Its embarrassing enough being caught distracted." He smiled at her, feeling some of his mirth return. Note to self: no more pondering when extremely hot objects were involved.
"Well, its your fault for not wearing the mitts." she tried to look disproving, but it was contradicted by the smile she was fighting to keep off her face.
"Sorry. Promise to practice workplace safety next time." he apologized sheepishly, thoughts getting unfocused again. His medication was late, and the double vision was starting to kick in. Not good.
For a second, the outline of Sakura's body swayed.
"Hey, do you want to come over today? I rented a good indie film and I wanted someone to watch it with me. Tomoyo's busy tonight so she can't make it."
Oh. Small world.
"Sure." he agreed, making sure to up the amount of blunts he was supposed to roll the next day. Kurogane would not be happy.
He panicked when he saw the ghost of a leer on Sakura's face as she passed him by, but it was gone in an instant. He must have imagined it. Sweet, innocent Sakura? That was another side effect to add to the medication.
He turned to the oven but in the time he had been pondering she had already brought it out and started frosting. He sighed and glanced at the clock. His shift was about to end.
"Can we get a rain check about the movie? I actually have to do something tonight."
Sakura pouted but he was almost sure he saw a dangerous glint in her eye, but it must have been a trick in the light. "Tomorrow, than."
-—
"Where are you going?"
Doumeki looked up at him, rummaging through a big black sports bag filled with clothes. "I'm going to go visit my family tonight. It'll be an overnight thing. Want to come?"
He was taken off guard by the invitation.
"Huh? Sure, but as long as we get back before 5 tomorrow."
Moonlighting as a drug dealer sucked.
Doumeki nodded to him and Watanuki went to retrieve the only other pair of clothes he owned in an old backpack the musician had lent him, and they were off.
"Why are we taking the train?"
Watanuki blew on his hands and rubbed them together, pulling his jacket tighter around him. Now that he thought about it, Christmas was around the corner. Sakura and Doumeki's invitations no longer seemed uncharacteristic. (Sakura's still was, and he couldn't doubt his instinct forever.)
Doumeki glanced at him, amber orbs piercing. "It looks scenic."
The baker stared at the musician dumbfounded, maybe he gave the man too much credit. "It's winter."
"Yeah."
"And the lakes are frozen over."
"Yeah."
"Where the hell are we going?"
"Toronto."
It took Watanuki a minute to grasp this.
"We're going to Canada? Did it occur to you that I may not have a passport?"
His answer came in the form of a small leather booklet tossed over to him. "Wha-"
"I know a guy. I got the info off the roommate agreement."
"howdidyou-this costs a lot of money! And you can't do any of this without my permission!"
Doumeki merely shrugged. "I have my ways."
Watanuki even had a passport photo he didn't remember being taken of him.
He stared at the musician in astonishment, ignoring Doumeki's silent look of 'come-on-we're-going-to-miss-the-train-if-you-keep-being-emotional.' He swallowed a sob and nodded at Doumeki instead, hoping the action alone would convey his thought he saw Doumeki smile, but the musician turned away before he could see it grow.
"Let's go." the musician said instead, a little baffled by Watanuki's silent admission. He had expected worse.
Bored.
That was one way to describe how he felt.
He didn't have the luxury of being able to doze off like Doumeki had, and instead chose to focus on the 'scenery' the musician had insisted there was much of. It didn't look particularly spectacular, seeing as winter had hit north first and blanketed what could have once been beautiful and green in sheets of thick white snow. He and Doumeki were dressed ill for the weather, but they weren't staying long.
Sometime during the trip his eyes had wandered on their own accord and examined Doumeki.
The man slept with his chin propped up by a few fingers, and posture slouched. He looked dignified, even in sleep. Watanuki took in the details he would have never normally noticed with a critical eye.
Doumeki had very long eyelashes framed by thick eyebrows and high cheekbones, which must have came with his Asian heritage. His skin had a nice caramel tint to it and his jaw looked almost chiseled, although it wasn't like he had much to compare it to, except maybe Kurogane. He took notice of the wool grey beanie Doumeki wore and the microscopic black studs in his ears. He didn't care much for the accessories, but Doumeki could do without them. His eyes fell to the musician's lips, parted and slack jawed in sleep. They weren't too full or average either, but they were enticing to look at either way.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer." the words weren't said with any malice, and came from the slumbering giant across from him.
It took Watanuki a moment to realize Doumeki was addressing him.
"A-ahaha, sorry for staring! Just bored and all!"
"Mhm." Doumeki still didn't open his eyes, and he sounded half-asleep still. "If you're going to undress me with your eyes wait until I'm awake. Otherwise I'm pretty sure that makes you a necrophiliac."
It really should have been wrong when Watanuki corrected (Somniphilliac) in his mind in response. Watanuki decided he didn't like snarky Doumeki. It never occurred to him that an introverted person such as Doumeki probably had a brilliant and intelligent mind under his Stoicism. Actually, that may have been inflating his ego a bit, but there was a point all the same.
"How long until we get there?"
Doumeki gave a cursory glance at the rolling hills and valleys covered in snow. "A couple more hours."
Watanuki cleared his throat, suddenly all aware of Doumeki's eyes raking over him impassively.
"S-so you're Canadian? I would have never thought! Are you a permanent citizen?"
"Dual citizenship. I went to high school in Toronto and took a scholarship in NYC for business."
Business?
"I dropped out and pursued music because I honestly thought I had a shot. I double-majored with Experimental physics at the time because I thought I could get on the board of directors for NASA. The tuition was sky-high so I had to drop out."
"Experimental physics? Business? Why would you ditch those programs for music? You could have supported yourself with a job at the university and done it on the side!"
Doumeki shook his head in reply. "It's not the same as doing it full-time. What were your plans before all this happened? Did they ever fall through?"
Watanuki sucked in a breath through his teeth. "I couldn't afford college and I wasn't smart enough for a grant. The only thing I knew how to do right was play the clarinet, and the one place that employed me fired me. My landlord evicted me because I wouldn't have sex with her, my girlfriend broke up with me, and I have a year to get into culinary school. I can barely rub two bills together, how am I supposed to afford it? I have to deal and take drugs I sell and work as a replacement for a boy that was kidnapped and-when they find him they'll probably fire me too. If they ever do. And now I'm finally starting to have feelings for-" He bit his tongue and shut up, because if he didn't, he was sure he was going to say you.
It felt good to finally be out with it, better than the first time he had told Yuuko after it happened. Doumeki and he had never made more than small talk at best, how was he going to take it?
He met the musician's eyes, who didn't say anything but in his own Doumeki way he looked stunned. He stayed silent.
"Next stop: Oakville."
The sound of the P.A and the feel of arms wrapping around him startled him.
Doumeki wrapped himself around the clarinet player in a strong embrace, trapping Watanuki's hands between their chests. He hesitantly tried to withdraw but quickly relaxed at the warmth around him.
Doumeki was soft and comforting and he gave in, laying his head in the crook of his neck. "Thanks," he said inaudibly, hoping the musician would catch it.
Doumeki nodded once, and they stayed there as the last stirrings of 'At last' played around them.
When they finally arrived, it was well after midnight but like all big cities, the streets weren't empty. Watanuki noted a few drunk grad students fall over each other, a bunch of kids huddled close together, and once or twice a couple holding hands. They had gotten off the train and stepped into the subway some time in the past hour and now navigated the streets, coming out a Mall whose lights were insanely bright at this time day, or night.
Watanuki gaped.
Even with his head tipped so far back it was resting on his shoulders he couldn't see the top of the condo from his point, and they were still a block away!
"What floor does your family live on?"
Doumeki mumbled.
"Huh? Speak up!"
"Penthouse." he muttered.
Watanuki stared in astonishment. He lost count after the first 24 floors, and there was still a long way to go.
"It's the eightieth. If you wanted to know."
Watanuki would have blown up at the musician if Doumeki were more smug about it but he looked...almost embarrassed.
"What do your parents even do? Aren't these evaluated at..."
Watanuki remembers a time he had picked up a real estate magazine, and how the numbers flashing behind his eyes had a lot of zeroes attached to it. He had immediately put it down after he saw it.
"Millions. Yeah."
Doumeki ducked his head, but he was sure he saw the tips of the musician's ears turn red. Watanuki was learning all sorts of things today.
The concierge (can you believe it? A twenty four hour concierge!) greeted them with a warm reception, and an even warmer reception to Doumeki, passing the both of them spare keys. The condominium looked so luxurious that Watanuki was expecting her to pass them hotel key cards, but no such luck.
In fact, he was pretty sure it looked better than all the fancy hotels in the media and from what he saw. The floors were granite and stained in swirling patterns of every shade of blue imaginable, there were fountains placed strategically at each side, and real gardens flourished the walls framing the space of the foyer. All in all, it was a contemporary and beautiful space. Watanuki wondered if maybe he had accidentally taken a hit off the package Kurogane handed him but then quickly realized that if this were a dream, he was sure Doumeki wouldn't be his usual dumb self.
A security guard stopped them, he looked even more solid than Kurogane at first glance. "I'll need to see some ID."
Doumeki handed their passports to the guard without a word and looked like he was stifling laughter. Watanuki glared at the musician in puzzlement. "What?"
"I'll tell you later."
The guard shooed them off but still glared at Watanuki until they retreated into the elevator.
The elevator was wide and spacious and made of glass. All angles could be seen as they were elevated level by level.
Watanuki turned away from the extravagance. He was almost positive he looked slack jawed with surprise. "So?"
Doumeki's mouth twitched. "He thought you were a hooker."
Doumeki plugged his ears, knowing what was to come.
A beat. "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?" Watanuki flailed and stuttered, swinging his arms around like a pendulum, his face flushed red with humiliation. "B-but I'm a man! That doesn't make any sense!"
Doumeki flattened his mouth into a thin line to keep from laughing, it was a losing battle. "It's well after midnight, we check into a hotel, we're young and there's a reputation for business man to bring their...escorts back home."
Watanuki deflated, still in disbelief. "Oh yeah...its legalized here. Then why would he be glaring? Wouldn't he just think we were squatters instead?"
"Not everyone is fond of the prostitution laws. They have so many restrictions that it may as well be illegal."
"Oh?"
"You have to have another source of income, no pimp, can't do it in your own home and you can't advertise."
"But that's-"
"-impossible. There aren't many people out there who would do this as a hobby. The only option is standing in street corners at the middle of night and wait for clients. But as you know, they can't be of the good rich have loopholes." Doumeki said, with an almost bitter inflection in his tone.
Watanuki glanced at Doumeki, suddenly seeing him for the first time. A smart man who grew up rich but followed his dreams and abandoned a life of luxury to take care of himself. It was admirable.
"Shizuka!"
A short woman in a white turtleneck and curly bob wrapped her arms around Doumeki as soon as the doors opened.
"We missed you last month! What was the change of heart?"
The short woman whom Watanuki assumed was Doumeki's mother stole a glance at him.
"Ohh, I see." she smiled mischievously. "Brought a girl home to visit the 'rents?"
Watanuki opened and closed his mouth and flushed deep red. "Um, I'm not his girlfriend per se, I'm a gu-"
"He's a guy." Doumeki said tactlessly, beating him to the punch.
Doumeki's mom frowned quizzically. "But you said you were bringing your significant ot-"
Doumeki went to cover his mom's mouth and steer her away to the living room. "Hey, you should cook."
"My name's not 'hey!'"
Doumeki was already out of sight, and the clarinet player took this time to explore the penthouse.
There was a one hundred inch television parked in what he assume was the media room to his left. The carpet felt soft and expensive under his feet and he stepped away and made a right from the foyer. A grand piano and various other instruments lined the walls, from harps, to trombones, to guitars that were electric and acoustic, drums, and he was sure he spotted a flute and woodwind section of sorts. Watanuki stared at the room in amazement. In the centre was a studio microphone supported with a large diaphragm that was boxed off by three soundproof glass walls. Outside was a miniature panel that he assumed was for mixing and editing for mastering. He shook his head at the expanse of wealth and continued his tour.
"Who are you?"
A gruff voice startled Watanuki and he jumped back, coming face to face with a man that looked like an older Doumeki in a wife-beater and boxers.
"Oh I'm Do-Shizuka's roommate. He invited me to come over today. I don't mean to intrude but where can I find the kitchen?"
The older Doumeki sized him up and nodded after a moment. Guess some things are more inheritable than others.
Doumeki's (he assumed) father led him through a couple hallways, before they came to an open concept kitchen with an island and peninsula. It was definitely speaking, a chef's kitchen. He took it all in, from the gas range to the low hanging lights and the state of the art appliances and the beautiful granite back-splash. He didn't want to seem rude and just start to take out food so he circled the space like a bird, and glanced at the spacious breakfast bar. He was running out of words to describe the space and he hadn't even seen all of it yet!
"Watanuki."
"GAH!"
He held a hand over his heart and turned exasperated blue eyes to the source of their surprise. "What is with everyone and sneaking up on people? Am I the only one?"
Doumeki cocked a brow at this. "It's not my fault you're so dim."
There he was, Classic Doumeki was back in the building. Said Doumeki pulled up a chair at the breakfast bar and rested his chin on his hands much like he did on the train and proceeded to bore into him expectantly.
He coughed, knowing that look all too well. "What?"
"Aren't you going to cook?"
Watanuki sighed and opened the fridge, stocked to near completeness and decided on breaded eggplant.
There was a few things Watanuki noticed when he woke up.
1) The bed was not his own
2) This bed was way too comfortable
3) Why was it so bright?
"Rise and shine!"
A cheerful woman with curly hair smiled, looming over him with his sheets in hand. He blinked drearily, hunting for his glasses. "Wha..?"
"Shizuka said you have to leave before five, so that means we have to start our day early don't we?"
Watanuki wasn't much of a complainer but it didn't seem like proper manners for a host to pull their guests out of bed for their own amusement. Or maybe they did, Watanuki wasn't exactly the ideal guest. He groaned and got out of bed regardless, rubbing the sand from his eyes and tugged on his pants from the other night and followed Doumeki's mother.
"So how long have you been living with my son?"
"Oh, a couple months now."
She "hmmm"-d in thought and left him confused. She abruptly turned to him, clapping her hands in his face as she did so. "I have a favor!"
He had a bad feeling about this. "Yes?"
"We didn't tell Shizuka, but we invited the family over for a Doumeki reunion for lunch and I need help preparing. I've heard that you are planning on going to culinary school!"
He sheepishly agreed and cursed Doumeki seven ways to Sunday in his mind. "Yeah, sure. What did you have in mind?"
Two hours later the kitchen was filled to the brim with dishes and already the doorbell was ringing.
"Come in!" Doumeki's mother called in a shrill voice. They were so far away from the foyer, how would anyone be able to hear?
As if hearing these thoughts the door opened and a few pairs of feet started to shuffle in hesitantly. Watanuki sighed to himself, the Doumeki were strange people, a fact that he had come to accept over the past few hours.
"Kimihiro, is the pot roast done?"
"Oh-um, y-yeah."
Watanuki still didn't like the use of his first name being thrown around, but it was North America. What was he supposed to do?
"The fireworks start tonight, are you boys going to leave early to catch them."
"Fireworks? During winter?"
"They're going to go off by the C.N Tower tonight, it's going to be a new tradition! Isn't that exciting?"
He smiled wryly, distracted by all the work he was going to be missing by the time he got home. He imagined a particular fantasy in which Kurogane would pick him up and snap his spin in half with his knee. Watanuki winced, almost feeling the phantom pain it would bring him. He would be up all night after he got back to finish the inventory. "Yeah, it will."
As the Doumekis filtered into the apartment, Watanuki noted with some amusement and concern that all the members of the Doumeki clan, male and female looked identical. That being said, the clarinet player was having a hard time locating his Doumeki.
"Hi, have you seen Shizuka?"
A tall woman with long hair and a very Doumeki-like face with almond shaped amber eyes and a long elegant nose shook her head at him. Watanuki silently wondered if this is what Doumeki would look like if he was a girl. Even the earrings she wore looked identical to his own. He suppressed a shutter and went off in search of the musician.
He poked his head in the music room but a bunch of Doumeki look a like kids were chatting and playing some of the instruments. He shivered and weaved through hallways, all full of established adults making light conversation. The sound died down a bit when he came to the end of the hallway, and caught sight of a room without a door.
It resembled an office, with its high ceiling and fireplace tucked to one corner, the mahogany desk and wall to wall bookshelf filled to the brim with books. Watanuki was so lost counting the books and marvelling once more on the materialism of the rich that he almost ignored the musician sitting at the foot of the shelf a ways away from the fireplace but still sprawled on the shaggy red rug on dark hardwood floors. Doumeki was wearing his beanie again, and stared into the fire with a stony expression on his face. Or really no expression at all.
Watanuki stepped closer to the fireplace like the proverbial moth drawn to the flame. He noted the life sized mirror hanging above it and saw himself. Blue eyed, pale, and scrawny illuminated by the light of the fire. He looked as radiant and he looked weak. The image depressed him. In the corner of his eye in the reflection Doumeki was spread eagle on the floor, the only part of his face peeking out were his eyes that practically glowed in the dim light of the fireplace. He lay on his stomach and ignored Watanuki completely. Watanuki continued to stare, transfixed by the reflection somehow. There lay Doumeki, a slumbering beast on the floor, and stood Watanuki, ghost like and without an impression. He felt inadequate, obsolete now that he saw all the differences between them. The time crawled by, and soon the sun set and the moon was starting to make its debut. Watanuki forgot about work, forgot about the drugs, and forgot everything else that didn't seem to matter.
"Why did you bring me here?"
In the mirror, he could see Doumeki's ocher eyes dart to him but the musician made no move to get up or speak.
"I know you don't want to be here. For whatever reason, but why me?"
"I thought you were going to bring your significant oth-"
"Because I wanted to." Doumeki said simply, sitting up and stealing a glance at the lanky clarinet player.
Said Clarinet player choked, "That's not a real answer."
Watanuki gasped as Doumeki captured his lips, an explosion of color illuminating the room. The fireworks show had started.
"Shizuka! Kimihiro! Where are you?"
Doumeki pulled away, his breath heavy and unsure. It was the most exposed Watanuki had ever seen him. Doumeki stood and glanced at him, turning away without another word.
