REVIEWS:
Phomma: Thanks! I am, I am XD
THE PRICE
IX
He wakes to filmy shadows. Butterflies. Familiar gauzy curtains.
His head is heavy but he rolls it to the side.
Watanuki is sitting in a chair next to the bed. Sewing.
His eyes lift and an expression of relief flickers across his face before it smooths into grave lines. Watanuki lifts the needle and cloth slightly from his lap. "Your shirt is ruined."
As if that explains everything.
Doumeki lies there for a while, watching Watanuki as he starts sewing again. Putting the pieces together.
There wasn't any pain. The light-headedness and nausea are gone, replaced with a heavy weariness that tries to push him back into sleep.
Doumeki resists. "The price?"
Watanuki stills. "It's already been paid."
He stares hard, trying to see if there is any change, any injury. But not all Watanuki's prices are physical.
Watanuki catches his eye. "Not by me."
Himawari or Kohane are the only other people to come to mind. "Who?" The question is more urgent. Doumeki can tell Watanuki doesn't want to tell him.
Watanuki stares down at the needle, expression suddenly distant. "Taking you involved a price."
It takes a moment. "The Onibaba." But he doubts it would be a willing price.
Watanuki is silent.
Doumeki waits. Even when Watanuki insisted they were rivals, he hadn't kept things from him.
"A price for a wish can only be something that a person possesses. An object. Even part of a person. Memories. Time. Even their soul." Watanuki's eyes are on the cloth on his lap. "If that price is something stolen from another, then a person is already owing a price. And more must be given." Bicoloured eyes fix on him with an unreadable expression. "The Onibaba couldn't pay the price."
Doumeki thought about that for a moment, turning over all the aspects in his mind. "I'm hungry."
Watanuki gives him a look. And promptly sets aside the sewing and stands. "I don't have much food left," another look, "but I can put something together."
"Dashimaki tamago."
Watanuki's eyes narrow. "Invalids don't get to decide breakfast."
But dashimaki tamago would probably show up anyway. Doumeki watches as Watanuki slips out of the room.
Not before a small black creature squeezed inside.
"Hey." Mokona lifts a paw after bounding onto Watanuki's abandoned chair.
"Hey." Doumeki returns the greeting, one hand lifting from the bed. It's wrapped in bandages.
Mokona studies him carefully, face grave. "Watanuki was worried, very worried."
"Is that so?" Doumeki glances at the closed door.
Mokona nods and leans closer, voice quieting. "He hasn't slept for days-"
Doumeki listens with one eye on the door as Mokona fills him in on everything he'd missed.
~x~X~x~
Watanuki searches the kitchen. Eggs. (Two but that would have to be enough). Butter, shoyu. Kombu and kezurikatsuo to make dashi. Mirin, Watanuki scowls as he sees all the bottles, is no problem. But there's no sugar.
Tamago without sugar will have to do. Doumeki will likely complain but he can't do anything about it. Watanuki wasn't going to risk Kohane for groceries. Not after what's happened.
It will be a long time until he'll be willing to let Doumeki venture out of the shop.
Watanuki's eyes darken as they fall on the knife sheafed in its block.
x
It was clasped in the Onibaba's hand. A red specked bend of metal that was corroded with more than rust. Her fingers like old bone as they clutched the fraying hilt. "You have what I need." It was a vicious hiss.
The knife did not frighten him. Watanuki met her eyes. Seeing the desperation that had warped into madness with grief and an unfettered rage that sought to bury her guilt.
A small part of him pitied her, even with the weight of lives she carried. It was possible with what he was now that his flesh would give her what she sought. But- "They are not for you."
It was fast.
Watanuki barely managed to avoid it. Red drops scattered out into the air even as their wake burned across his cheek.
Blood. His.
Doumeki's.
The Onibaba let out a startled cry as she suddenly slammed into the ground. Her matted hair fell down in stringy locks around her face but her eyes glittered up at him, the rage turning to hate as she realized the knife had fallen from her hand.
The sky darkened, threads and tears of black ripping slowly through the pale grey. The trees groaned, not merely branches but their protesting trunks as the breeze suddenly howled into a gale. It didn't even sound like wind. It sounded like some angry beast that was only noise because it was held back.
(Because Doumeki was out there somewhere.)
Watanuki slowly bent and picked up the knife.
It was an effort. The dirty metal was much like its wielder. Eager to bite, to lay open flesh. Black poured off it in hungry bitter waves.
An extension of the Onibaba's will.
Just as the dream was now his.
The howl lowered with a protesting yowl, ripping off leaves and branches before settling into an uneasy gale. The dark rips stopped spreading but they marked sky like uneasy banners.
The Onibaba's eyes rolled up to the sky, dark curves on white fields. They bored in him. "Dream stealer!" It was said with surprise and loathing. "You can't hold me forever!"
Watanuki knelt down next to her. "You have a debt outstanding." His voice was soft.
A splinter of fear cracked through the rage. But it was soon covered with derision. "The last Owner of the Shop was never been able to take it."
Watanuki's fingers closed carefully on the knife. "I am not my predecessor."
He had learnt from Haruka as well.
x
The knife now sat in the store room, one of the many things that was harmful and dangerous. He had taken it. But that hadn't been enough to pay the price the Onibaba owed.
You can't hold me forever.
Not forever. But a very long time.
And without a knife, without passage to the world and more victims, she would be left with the rage, the guilt she could no longer sink beneath death.
The only person she could harm would be herself.
Watanuki closed the fridge and set the ingredients on the bench. He could work around the sugar. Doumeki would just have to put up with the difference in taste. They were going to have make do until he could make other arrangements.
Doumeki wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.
He adjusted his glasses, before reaching for the knife. Without hesitation.
News of what had happened would spread. And with it, a silent warning.
Doumeki was not to be touched.
~x~X~x~
dashimaki tamago - rolled egg omelet
shoyu - type of soy sauce, a mixture of soya beans and wheat (as opposed to tamari which is just soya beans)
dashi - a simple broth/stock
kombu - edible kelp
kezurikatsuo - shavings of katsuobushi (dried bonito flakes)
mirin - type of rice wine
...how did this end up with a glossary?
~x~X~x~