X.

Shadow Dancing

In the early hours of the morning, Watanuki woke abruptly and let out a muffled groan. His dreams had been strange again, and he blamed the influence of Yuuko's odd potion; his head was still throbbing and his nose was still leaking and the entirety of his body felt like an overcooked noodle. But his stomach growled imperiously, and he let out another groan; it had taken all his energy to eat soup and fix Yuuko's sandwich earlier, and he didn't feel like cooking at...he squinted.

"Three in the morning? Ahh..."

Still, he didn't feel anything like as bad as he had before, and after sneezing seventeen times his head felt strangely clear, although it took another entire minute for the room to stop spinning afterward. Fumbling, he found his glasses, and then the light – and then he jumped backwards toward the wall.

"Doumeki! Wha – what are you doing here?"

Doumeki yawned, turned on his futon, squinted at him in the light for a long moment, and then shut his eyes again.

"Sleeping."

The silence only lasted for a moment.

"Sleeping! Why are you sleeping here?"

There was a pause. Then:

"Yuuko said I should use this room."

Watanuki pointed an accusing finger in Doumeki's direction, and waved his other hand in an emphasizing fist.

"You are deliberately avoiding my question! What are you doing in this Shop, you great lump of – of – Doumeki!"

At that, Doumeki actually sat up, and turned his back .

"I have – a wish. You should be sleeping more. Yuuko said you were sick."

The statement adequately deflected Watanuki, because bringing attention back to his illness suddenly made him aware of his earlier, limp-noodle feeling.

"Ahh yes...I'm so hungry...but so tired...I am defeated."

Watanuki took a single step and sank back onto his futon like a drowning man – which is hard to do on dry land. Doumeki observed for a moment, and then slipped quietly out of the room. When he returned, he was carrying a small tray piled high with toasted slices of Watanuki's own homemade bread, as well as butter, jam, a small teapot, and two cups.

Since his hands were full, Doumeki prodded Watanuki with his foot.

"Oi, Watanuki. Food."

For someone who had been laying in a prostrate position, Watanuki was quite speedy at sitting up and reaching for toast and butter. While he topped the toast, Doumeki poured tea, and then the two of them happily set to.

When nothing was left but crumbs and tea leaves, Watanuki lay back on his futon with a sigh of contentment and a hand on his stomach. With his eyes closed and his head turned away, he managed a muttered "Thank you", just loud enough for Doumeki to hear. Doumeki, in the process of bringing the tray back to the kitchen, paused and could not suppress an expression of the faintest astonishment. It took half a minute for him to come up with the proper response.

"You're...welcome."

It took him a little while to wash the dishes and put everything away in the kitchen; it was odd, working in there. Usually Watanuki would never allow such a thing, and anyway, it was quiet at night. By the time he got back to the room Yuuko had put them to sleep in, Watanuki was already almost out again, but Doumeki had instructions about that.

"Watanuki, don't go to sleep yet. Watanuki."

He got a disgruntled groan in response. Doumeki picked up a small vial off a bureau in the corner, and came over to crouch by Watanuki and shake his shoulder.

"Watanuki, Yuuko left this for you if you woke. Watanuki. Get up, Watanuki, and drink this."

"Oh...bother...hate you."

"Yes. But drink this. Oi - Watanuki -"

Finally, Watanuki sat up, grabbed the vial, pulled out the stopper, and glared at it angrily. The smell wafting up from it was pleasant, but familiar.

"This stuff! She gave this to me before I went to sleep earlier. I had weird dreams -"

"That's because you're weird. Just drink it."

"But I don't want to -"

"Watanuki -"

Doumeki spoke warningly, and though Watanuki continued to glare, he finally drank it in a single gulp...though it was really a sip more than a gulp.

"There, happy now? There's less than the last time, anyway, maybe I'll..."

And he yawned, and fell back against his pillow, and was asleep in less than thirty seconds.

Doumeki stared at him for a moment, and then shrugged. He clicked off the light, and returned to his own futon, relaxing against the pillow with a sigh.

Watanuki did, indeed, dream strange dreams...but this time he did not remember them when he woke; nor could he remember those that had come before.

It was early in the evening when Watanuki woke again, and he yawned and stretched his arms in the misty purple light coming through the shoji that faced the garden, then struck a triumphant pose.

"Ah...I am healed!"

It took another thirty seconds for him to remember Doumeki; reflexively, he turned to look at the floor where the other futon had been. The spot was bare now.

"I wonder...is he gone?"

Clothes had been left for him, hanging on the corner screen; tunic and trousers, Chinese style, in pale jade green. Stretching slowly, yawning now and then, Watanuki dressed and then padded out into the hall, down past many quiet rooms, many closed doors...he peeked in the kitchen – empty – the long room of the butterfly shoji where Yuuko liked to lounge – empty – and even the front rooms where she occasionally took tea. Empty?

Finally, huffing, Watanuki stomped his way out to the garden - and then stopped, startled, entranced. In dazzling, diaphanous robes of moonglowing gauze, Yuuko stood under a tree that bloomed with light, out of season. Beneath her hands, the chest that Watanuki had lugged around, foisted off on Doumeki, and then mostly forgotten about was alight with brilliant blue flickers of firefly power. Lovingly, Yuuko caressed the lock, and then raised her right fist high into the moon's light. With a swift, sudden motion, she brought her hand down again, full of white fire.

There was a single note, a high, sweet tone like a distant flute. The lock shattered into many pieces and tumbled away to the ground. Radiance erupted in dancing waves, embraced Yuuko in blue sweetness, and then subsided.

She turned to Watanuki then, a soft smile on her face, and beckoned for him to come forward.

Blushing inexplicably, more than a little confused, Watanuki stepped forward slowly, stumbled, and then went toward her at a more normal pace. His eyes darted between Yuuko and the chest she had...unlocked? Unsealed? He was hesitant to ask questions, but when her eyes only lingered on him, dancing, and she said nothing, he couldn't help himself.

"Umm...Yuuko-san? Is this...what is this? Am I supposed to do something?"

"You have been chosen, Watanuki."

"Umm...chosen? Chosen for what, exactly?"

Her smile, so soft, so beautiful, returned to its usual mysterious and irritating self.

"Doumeki is staying here for the next week or so. I don't want to listen to you whining the whole time, so you are going on an errand for me. Open the chest, Watanuki!"

He jumped a little at her tone of command, but he did what she said. Gold and blue light sparkled in his eyes, lifting in tiny particles to dance around his hands as he touched the lid – and then he opened it, and white blanked out his vision for perhaps thirty seconds.

Squinting, he looked down, and then opened his eyes wide. The chest was full of...clothes? Oh, there were a few gold ornaments peeking out around the edges of the robes, and the garments themselves were obviously exquisite, and probably valuable. But...still. Clothes?

"Yuuko, I don't get it. What's so important about this stuff?"

Yuuko's mysterious smile softened again, and she reached down to run her fingers through his hair, let them come to rest at the base of his neck. He found the gesture both oddly intimate and strangely comforting.

"Watanuki, this is the dowry of Zashiki-warashi and the robes she will wear on her wedding day. Your task is to bring them to her."

Watanuki scowled at the chest as if it had mortally offended him.

"Really? Well – that's great, and everything, but then why was I carrying it around half of the city?"

Yuuko's smile did not change.

"So that it could be here in time, and not a moment sooner."

Watanuki blinked at her.

"But – it was – I mean -"

And then he stopped himself, and let his head drop forward into his hands.

"Never mind. Just – never mind. How am I getting to Zashiki-warashi? Please don't tell me I've got to get in that stupid vase again - "

Yuuko patted his back gently and shook her head.

"No, I think not. I think instead...instead, I will send you up the mountain."

She tapped her fingers against her lips for a long moment, and then grinned.

"Ah, I remember! Watanuki, in the back of the storeroom you'll find a large wooden frame. It might look empty, but don't put your hands through it – actually, don't put any part of yourself through it. Just bring it out here, along with the bag that is on the floor beside it."

Watanuki's skin tingled at her warning, but he nodded and went to find it.

In the furthest corner of the storeroom, behind a great pile of pottery that quivered alarmingly as he passed and a banner that looked like it had been through six generations of apocalypse, Watanuki found the frame Yuuko had sent him for. Large was an understatement; this thing was five feet tall and four feet across. It did, indeed, look empty, as if it had been meant for some artwork that had failed to pass muster, but a sweet-smelling wind ruffled his hair as he stood in front of it, and he could have sworn he heard, faintly, the sound of music; perhaps laughter.

Carefully, cautious of the warning Yuuko had given him, Watanuki picked up the frame by its outer edges and held it out in front of him, moved it to one side. On the floor, tucked far back into the corner and covered in dust, was a bag. Watanuki peered around dubiously, but there were no other bags in sight, so he picked up the dusty one, shook it off as well as he could, and slung it over his shoulder by one strap.

Slowly, careful not to trip and send himself through the thing headfirst, Watanuki carried the frame outside and brought it to where Yuuko was standing. He looked at it oddly as he set it down and leaned it against the tree; for a moment, he was sure he had seen swirls of color, green and blue moving like smoke in the empty space – but now there was nothing.

"Excellent, Watanuki. Did you find the – Watanuki, where did you find that bag!"

He looked over his shoulder at her, turned and held it out.

"Oh – it was behind the frame. I didn't see anything else, is it not the right one?"

As if it might disappear, Yuuko took the bag out of Watanuki's hands, caressed the drooping, dusty fabric. After a moment, she made a sharp gesture and shook it; in a little cloud and with a noise that sounded suspiciously like poof!, dust came off the bag and then hovered for a moment before dropping to the ground. Yuuko looked at the bag closely, turning it in her hands, peering inside; yes, it was definitely the same bag...the same bag...

"Um...Yuuko-san? If it isn't the right one I can go look for -"

But he was cut off mid-sentence, enveloped in a furious hug that left him squashed most uncomfortably in Yuuko's ample cleavage. His glasses were skewed, pushed up to his forehead on one side and attached to only one ear. He could barely breathe, suffocated by the warmth and nearness of Yuuko's...of Yuuko.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I haven't seen this bag in ages, Watanuki!"

"You're – welcome, but it – it's only a bag, Yuuko-san -"

He choked the words out through her death-grip, tried to reach up and adjust his glasses (which were now digging into his forehead), and instead found himself lifting up Yuuko's breasts. He flushed furiously, and snatched his hands away, mumbling inaudible apologies.

"It doesn't matter what it is; it's important to me. It's been so long since I lost it that I thought it was gone forever; but of course it was only waiting for you to give it to me, of course...of course."

Watanuki felt Yuuko shake a little, though her grasp slackened enough that he could breathe finally, and he thought she was laughing at him – or at something, anyway. Perhaps she was finally going mad? Mentally, he shrugged, and reached out hesitantly to put his arms around Yuuko and hug her, pat her back.

"It's...umm...it's okay, Yuuko-san..."

Grocery bags in hand, Doumeki took three steps towards the Shop and then stopped and stared in surprise. He could see her face, what Watanuki could not see. She was not laughing, she was crying - crying, and with such warmth in her face, such memory -

He felt suddenly uncomfortable, as if he had walked in on the reunion of a pair of long-separated lovers...and then shook his head sharply to rid himself of the disturbing thought.

Yuuko...and Watanuki?

He was so disturbed that he did something good manners and his own reticent nature would have usually prevented, and turned and walked directly toward the embracing pair.

"Yuuko-san? I have everything you asked for – and I bought two bottles of damson wine."

He saw Yuuko raise her head quickly and bring up her sleeves to dry her face as she stepped away from Watanuki.

"You're back, Doumeki! And with damson wine? Wonderful! Tonight is a good night; Watanuki found something for me – see?"

Proudly, as if displaying a favorite child or a great treasure, Yuuko held out the little bag. It was leather, or leather-looking; big enough to hold a few books and a wallet. It had two straps, and a drawstring, to which a small, silver charm had been attacked. Though Yuuko had cleaned it well enough, it was far from new and more than a little battered...Doumeki nodded slowly.

"I see. Something with sentimental value?"

Yuuko's vision blurred for just a moment, and then she smiled and pulled the little bag close again, clutched it tightly in her fingers.

"Yes. Yes – sentimental...sentimental value."

She turned back to Watanuki then, reached out and stroked one finger along his cheek.

"Think you're up to making dinner, Watanuki dear?"

Watanuki flushed.

"Y-yes! Of course! I feel great – as if I'd never been sick at all. That stuff you gave me is powerful, but I had some weird dreams. Can't remember...what they were about, though..."

He realized he was babbling, and shut up. Doumeki stared at him with a suspicious glint in his eye, and then looked away quickly when he saw Watanuki had noticed. To distract him, Doumeki held up the bag of groceries in one hand and the bag of wine bottles in the other.

"Oi. If you're going to cook, come take this stuff, so we can get started on these."

Wine sloshed in emphasis. Watanuki stomped forward across the garden, bypassed Doumeki entirely, and pointed as he walked by.

"Bring those bags in the kitchen; both of them! Otherwise the two of you will be completely drunk by the time I get out here with food – and what did you buy, anyway? Mmm...never mind, give me that. You carry the wine, though!"

Watanuki poked around in the bag for a minute, and then turned to look back over his shoulder belatedly.

"Oh – Yuuko-san, what did you want all this for, anyway? Shrimp...lamb...saffron..."

He shook his head.

"Why, curry of course! There should be chicken in there, too, you so can make all the best kinds. Doumeki and I were having a discussion before, you see -"

Watanuki shook his head slowly, and Yuuko laughed, just a little, and shooed him off with wiggling fingers.

"Go on, you. Or it'll take all night!"

A/N: Holy Monkeys. That took. Forever! But it is here now, oh joy, as I have gradually decided what direction this story is going to take. The semester is now over, except for one damned make-up final...so I have more time to write in, oh joy! More...soon.

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