Intricacies
20th April 2009
Series: The Seer
Summary: Jason's past begins to come to light, the group figure out what they're up against, Shizuka has noticed something very important and considers his decision about it… and Watanuki gets picked on (a little).
Warnings: The usual.

Early posting as I have to be at the airport at 7.30am tomorrow but otherwise, we're still on schedule. My schedule, anyway (see Author Notes at the end)


"That name has appeared in a few of my books," Shizuka murmured, annoyed and apprehensive at what he'd uncovered. "Usually in conjunction with the initial D that I mentioned earlier."

Jason looked miserably across the table at him.

"The question now is," he murmured, tucking his hands back into his sleeves, "Is what do you know?" He wasn't certain what the Englishman was up to. His hunch said there wasn't any ulterior motive, what with Watanuki in the equation, but it never hurt to be sure.

For a long moment, Jason said nothing… and then he gave a slight smile. A meaningless little curve of his lips that Shizuka suddenly realised he'd seen before; the Englishman's polite smile. It had been on Jason's face when they'd first met –a mask just like the one Watanuki wore when he spoke to anyone outside of the Dancing Dragon's crew.

The monk thought, for a moment, that maybe his insight into his mast—friend-- made it easier for him to distinguish these little nuances. He hadn't thought much about people's masks and secrets in the past save where they affected his work, whether he noticed them or not.

"I don't know very much at all," Jason admitted. "All I really know for sure is that my mother passed down a bloodline trait along with the name to me. She wasn't alive long enough to explain everything. She had been… pretty much abandoned herself."

Shizuka considered what a noble Englishwoman might have faced, powerful and without support or perhaps even guidance. Watanuki obviously knew nothing about magic and Jason admitted knowing less. Was there no one else?

"Who was she?" he asked.

"Just a commoner," Jason said, eyes going distant. "And she didn't know who she was, either, fancy that? She was pulled out of one of the lakes near my home town; my father is a third son so he was out doing rounds, managing one of the Astor estates."

Water? Hm.

"My father said," Jason smiled wistfully, "That he fell in love with her within three days. Said she was the most gentle, caring, innocent person he'd ever met. She was as lovely as any noble, long blonde hair almost all the way down to her ankles, and the most child-like countenance. But strong and determined, and she loved us dearly."

"You said you and Watanuki grew up together?" Shizuka asked softly, sympathy at Jason's loss driving him to change the topic a bit.

"Yes," Jason smiled at the mention of his cousin, a warmer tone to his expression now, relaxing a little. "My parents died when I was a boy. My mother… she was trying to protect me." He danced fingertips over his own shoulder and Shizuka realised the script on his back must have been made by her. "After my mother passed on I was sent to live at the head household with my aunt and uncle, Kim's parents."

Shizuka stilled. Something he'd heard… "When did his parents—?"

Jason's smile melted away and his expression turned flat, "The year after I arrived."

It occurred to Shizuka suddenly what the reason might be that Jason avoided all things magical --which made sense, considering all the factors. The script on Jason's back probably wasn't even actually complete. And judging by the way Jason said she'd been trying to protect him and hadn't been alive 'long enough' –perhaps to finish it— sent alarms ringing in his head.

Jason had probably witnessed her die.

"I am sorry." Shizuka fiddled with the inner seam of his sleeve. He missed his own mother sometimes, missed his grandfather all the more, he understood loss.

For a moment, Jason blinked at him in surprise, "Thank you. I wasn't expecting such compassion."

"The way you talk about your mother," Shizuka admitted, "Is very telling. I cannot imagine what you've been through." He stopped there, realising he'd almost wandered a little too far into extremely painful and personal territory. He quietly offered, "I would like to help."

"Thank you." Jason nodded, expression solemn but honest, "I think… I'm ready."

To face his abilities, perhaps? Shizuka wondered. But he felt relieved. Jason mattered a great deal to Watanuki and Watanuki… well, the young noble mattered a great deal to him. It didn't matter that he'd always been advised and paid attention to the importance of integrating with a master's life but keeping apart enough and not caring too much about them.

But to him, Watanuki meant—

…never mind.

"Allow me to study the marks on your back sometime soon." Shizuka gestured to his little trunk of books, "There's a chance we can learn more about it and what it does."

Nodding, Jason replied, "Agreed. I'm sure there are some positive things to this blasted curse. Kim uses his powers, and so do you. Maybe… maybe I can too."

Shizuka inclined his head in generic acknowledgement. Maybe. He and Jason shared a small smile, coming to a little understanding between them; they would have to see what each day might yield and work with that. That settled, he gave a little nod and he stood, prompting Jason to get up as well, and he watched as Jason knocked gently on Watanuki's door.

"I know you're listening as hard as you can, Kim," Jason raised his voice to tease lightly through the wood. "Come out already!"

The door swung open as though Watanuki had been right behind it, clad in his under-robes because he'd only managed to remove his outerwear as he'd tried to eavesdrop. The bridge of his nose had turned a little pink and he frowned as he grumbled, "I barely heard a word. Darn door wood's too thick."

The monk's lips quirked, amused, and Jason smiled then ruffled his cousin's hair, gently murmuring, "Good night, Kim. Rest well."

As the Englishman passed on his way out, Shizuka laid a hand on his shoulder to say, "Good night."

This time, the smile was genuine. Small but warm, shoulders relaxing under the monk's hand and Jason whispered softly, meaningfully, "Thank you."

Shizuka watched him go, wondering how he'd gotten himself into this mess. So distracted was he by the many things he would need to think on that he only noticed the ache of loss and hurt through the bond after Watanuki had shut and locked his bedroom door.

--

As customary after Watanuki made the morning tea, Shizuka served it. Something about 'I made the tea, do you expect me to serve it too?!' and other such sentiments too loud to argue with that he even took over the making of it some mornings.

It served as a ritual, the monk checking things over for any traces of ill-will or such, and a casual way to interact that he appreciated after so long living as an ignored background figure. And, it allowed him to see a little closer into all the things that happened around his master –was that term of address…? Regardless, he played the shadow no longer. Conversation flowed with him instead of around him, or he might catch Watanuki doing silly little things, making odd expressions, or other such normal things he'd missed out on all his life.

But this morning, Watanuki didn't look him in the eye. Watanuki didn't look at him, period.

"Good morning!" Jason sang, trailing in behind Sorata and Arashi for breakfast and the promised meeting. The Englishman smiled less cheerfully today than he usually did but the smile redeemed itself with its multiple-increase in sincerity and Shizuka couldn't help the lifting of one corner of his mouth in return.

"Ah!" Jason pointed at the monk's lips in surprise, looking delighted, other hand landing on Shizuka's arm, "And you say I need more practice at smiling!"

Shaking his head, the monk indicated the table and with one last grin at him Jason sat. Finally pulling his gaze away from the changed Englishman, he caught Watanuki's hot stare at where Jason had touched his arm –right before the noble jerked his own eyes away and refocused on his teacup, a little mask falling into place to disguise the expression.

And just like that, in that split second, all the little puzzle pieces fell into place in Shizuka's head.

Of course. How could he not have noticed this sooner? The equation made sense, perfect sense, and the monk blinked as he realised what all those little tugs and wrenches and echoes through their bond all meant. But then he also realised something else: that Watanuki had no idea of it all himself. Hm. That would be… a problem?

No.

He himself wasn't supposed to entertain such thoughts anyway. But he watched Watanuki as he always did, the way the young noble sat quietly across the table, and he remembered the way those slender arms could madly gesticulate, or the way those cheeks had half a dozen ways of colouring up to mean different things depending on the emotions that'd evoked them. Then there was also the way Watanuki's eyes flashed, the way those slim brows could move minutely to mean very specific things, and how those lips could turn, twist, curl, curve, purse and thin —all in a manner just about as expressive as his hands. Hands currently kept tucked away into wide sleeves because, like a cat's tail, it always betrayed Watanuki's state of mind.

And Watanuki's usual mind meant caring. Watching. Feeling guilty or alone or yearning for things he thought he might never have.

Shizuka understood that kind of thinking; a man was only as strong and purposeful as the cause he lived for. Without a reason, even an idiot had no reason to live …and it appeared that they both needed—

Then and there, Shizuka decided what he wanted to do when he earned his freedom. Most monks remained in service to the Order of the Shirasagi on a kind of contract to contract basis, if not turning high-pay mercenary to Kings and nobles. Yet now, he had a choice –and it seemed so easy to decide that he would be where he wanted to be most, where he felt happiest. Adding that into the equation resulted in one most satisfactory possible answer, a warmth blooming outward in Shizuka's chest such as he had not felt in a very long time.

Rethinking the situation quickly, he considered he needed just one last thing: confirmation. He'd need an opportunity for that one, or make one himself. But all through breakfast, recounting meeting the Tortoise and the entire exchange, Watanuki avoided looking at him and Shizuka thought … well, that couldn't be right.

"How odd," Arashi murmured distractedly. "If he was a demon, he should have been much more powerful than what you're saying." She flashed him an apologetic look, "Not that I mean to say you're not powerful yourself but—"

"Urashima," Shizuka interrupted absently.

"Eh?" Sorata prodded, looking confused. But then his expression cleared and he blinked, "That old wives' tale?"

"Ahh." Shizuka levelled a look at Arashi, "A demonized human. Who else would have powers of the sea, live in a small fishing boat, have limited power and try to seek more, alone and resentful?"

"You mean Urashima Taro?" Arashi tapped her fingers on the table, appearing to ponder that idea. "Possibly."

"Who is he?" Jason asked, discreetly tossing Watanuki a small amused smile because his cousin had obviously been very curious and only barely managed to avoid asking the question himself.

"It's an old story," Sorata began, "About a young fisherman named Urashima Taro from—"

"Tango in the Kyoto prefecture," Shizuka interjected softly.

Sorata blinked, "Not many people know that. How did you?"

"His accent." Shizuka admitted, internally recalibrating his plans to deal with this new threat. "I recognised it as we spoke. It was one of the things that gave away his identity."

"Hm," the priest acknowledged vaguely and continued, "The story goes that the young man was fishing alone one day in the early morning when, pulling up his nets, he found he'd caught a huge, beautiful and colourful fish." He shrugged, "What he didn't realise was that it was a water spirit, manifesting in as beautiful a form as it could know of our world. Most spirits are vain, preferring fancy manifestations if they choose a physical form."

"I would, too," Jason admitted, "If I could choose how to appear."

"The water spirit looked so lovely," Sorata continued, "That he didn't immediately kill it, giving the fish a chance to speak up and ask for its life."

"And Urashima-san let him go?" Jason asked, a bit excited by the story.

"Yes," Arashi joined in, "As a reward, and probably because Urashima-san was a good looking young man, the water spirit invited him into the sea to see his home. When the fisherman accepted, the water swirled in a great tornado and pulled the whole boat down with him in it."

At Jason's wide eyes, Sorata added, "The spirit kept his word, don't worry, he took Urashima to his home. But the truth is that he didn't take the human down into the water as the story commonly goes. The priests' version is that the spirit had used the water as a gateway from one of the water worlds and through that same portal via the whirlpool, took Urashima to his own world."

"Urashima enjoyed his time there and spent his entire morning looking around and enjoying this new place," Arashi said. "And when after three hours Urashima-san asked to return home, the water spirit gave him a special little gift box. In Japanese it is called a tamatebako, delicately paintedand quite beautifully crafted. Urashima-san took this with him as he was guided back to the shores of his hometown."

"Without his boat," Sorata added. "And when he realised that, he fretted as he walked home, wondering how to explain to his wife that he now had lost their most important means of livelihood. He was so distracted that he didn't notice things about his home town. He knocked on his door and a lady opened it, a complete stranger."

"When Urashima-san asked for his wife by name," Arashi said, "The lady said, 'Oh! The Lost Fisherman's Wife, she died a long time ago. Such an amazing story, her husband went out to fish and never came home. When the other men found his nets, the presumed him dead; no boat remained, after all. But ever since, she had the most amazing luck and she was always finding things on the shore whenever she went out there, pearls and things. It's an old story that her husband must have become some kind of water folk and kept giving her gifts all through the rest of her life.'"

"In a daze," Sorata cut in, "He wandered through his home town and realised that things had changed. New buildings stood everywhere and it was much larger. His home wasn't the same, he just then noticed, rebuilt and taller. The shore was a bit more crowded with much bigger boats than he had ever seen. Scared and alone he returned to the water and called out for the water spirit."

"Now this is where the story changes," Arashi said. "In the more common versions, Urashima rants and raves until he realises he has nothing left except the tamatebako in his pocket. Consumed by despair and loss, he opened it and in a swirl of water, his reflection changed and he finds that he's become an old man. The story implies that the tamatebako held on to time for him and by opening it, he released himself from ever finding the water spirit again, resigning himself to his new fate as an old man, returning to his life as it was."

"But the other version?" Jason prodded, eyes bright.

"The other version," Arashi answered, "Is that instead of being consumed with despair, he was overcome with anger and resentment. Instead of opening the box, he pushed it under the water and called again, and this time he got a reply." Expression darkening, "Any magical creature reacts to powerful emotions and with such a powerful object as a tamatebako, he must have resonated with his feelings. As our version goes, Urashima-san asked for a bargain, a trade in lieu of one life for another."

Nodding, Sorata picked the tale up again, "So passionate was he, so insistent that he should have died instead of unwittingly outliving all he cared for, the water spirit granted him his wish –to become a water folk as the locals had told stories about him. He made the story true."

"Then… he must have been turned into a tortoise," Jason murmured. "Long-living, ancient creatures. And he probably still has that box, hm?"

"Most likely," Shizuka admitted. "That box would be his weakness. Good to know if I have to face him again."

"Can you deal with him?" Sorata asked, concerned.

"I believe so." Shizuka shifted in his seat, eyes going to Watanuki –who would not look at him. "I'm intending to finally send that wind message I mentioned a long time ago. About time I alerted someone to what's happening." He turned his stare up a notch, and the noble twitched in reaction.

"I trust you know what you are doing," Arashi murmured with a meaningful look in his direction.

"Ahh."

"Can we trust whoever it is you're contacting?" Jason asked cheerfully, propping his chin up on his hand and watching Shizuka at his antics, glee sparkling in his eyes when Watanuki glared at him, cheeks going a darker red than ever.

Shizuka flicked a mildly irritated look in his direction, not even dignifying the question with too much credit, more amused by the way Watanuki would glare and stare at Jason all the while ignoring him. Catching on, Sorata gave a snort of suppressed laughter and even Arashi rolled her eyes. But the monk barely registered these things, boring a hole into Watanuki's forehead with his eyes, insistent that Watanuki acknowledge him in some way— There. The twitching eyebrow indicated he'd get a response in three… two… one…

"What are you staring at?!" Watanuki demanded hotly, glaring across the table.

Sorata and Arashi tried to hide their amusement, and Jason had to hide his chuckles behind a hand.

"You," Shizuka innocently replied, feeling a little better. "You're dressed in blue again today." Watanuki's jaw snapped shut and the colour on his cheeks rearranged from two high spots on his cheekbones to a fine little blanket across his cheeks and over his nose. And just to be sure Watanuki remembered he had once told the noble this already, and Watanuki probably did recall but it would be fun just to reiterate, he said so directly, "You look best in blue."

"You say the most out of context, outrageous, and personal things I've ever had to suffer!" Watanuki snarled, his cheeks and nose going very red and the colour seemed to seep off a bit up his temples and a little down his neck.

Shizuka shrugged, not the least bit bothered by the noble's vehement temper. But by that rather violent reaction he should probably consider keeping his other thoughts to himself and not confuse the poor young noble any more than he likely already was.

…even if it was a little too much fun.

"And silver," he added, ignoring the outburst. "Blue and silver are best."

"You—!" Watanuki spluttered helplessly, fingers curling on the table top in his scattered, high energy indignity. He frowned, "I should probably stop wearing it then, to keep you from spouting off all those weird comments."

"Don't bother," Shizuka sagely advised. "I'll just ask you why you're not wearing it."

"What?!" The noble's neck turned completely red now.

"Besides," he pointed out, "You like blue." And added as an afterthought, "And silver."

"That's none of your business!" Watanuki now sat straight up and tall in his seat, leaning forward a little across the table, hands twitching in what Shizuka supposed would be monumental effort not to reach over the table surface and strangle him. But they were using the blue teacups today—Shizuka eyed the delicate tea set— Watanuki probably wouldn't want to risk upsetting the dishes and breaking them. He thought that maybe he should tone his teasing down.

But just one last one, he allowed;

"Everything about you is my business," he replied softly, waiting for it, waiting for it— aha. That little stab of pain at his words echoed across the bond. He had to resist both rubbing at the little ache in his chest and the small smile threatening to curl his lips.

Oh, yes; confirmation.

Watanuki liked him too.

TBC.


Author Notes:

I realise this Dou/Wata stuff has been a long time coming but toward the end of this arc and into the next one, you will realise why I had to wait to bring in the Dou/Wata factor. Your patience will be rewarded. No, really.

Just to let you know, at the end of this arc, I will try to keep up with my current update schedule of one chapter per four weeks. The original idea of writing it all out arc after arc and then posting every weekend doesn't quite work anymore. As I throw myself more into writing original fiction, I will not have as much time to write this story but I want to keep up a regular pattern, in rotation with four others. I had held a vote on my LiveJournal account to see which of my WIPs were most popular and picked the top four to make this rotation. Thankfully, The Seer came out on top! The next update for this story will be on 1st August.

Thank you to everyone who continue to shower me with support and encouragement. Please don't stop sharing your thoughts and observations. It's because of people like you who nit-pick my writing and ask questions or share your perspectives that I grow as a writer and am even getting published in the first place!

To know a bit more about me or read more of my fan fiction or free original fiction work, please visit my account on LiveJournal --link provided on my profile page.