Watanuki obsessively checked his foot, just to make sure it healed. He wasn't sure, didn't know what the shop would judge as a proper price. Besides, his time was stopped… and he really didn't know what that entailed. He wouldn't age, he knew that, could almost feel it, but what about healing from injuries? Or, or, would his hair grow? What about food? Did he need that, or was he hungry out of habit?

But apparently he did need sleep. God, did he need sleep. He spent most of his time either on the bed or on the sofa and the injured foot wasn't much help in wanting to get up.

Springtime again on the porch. Haruka was smoking his usual cigarette. It had been a few days (maybe?) since he'd seen Haruka, but he always showed up on his own time.

Watanuki couldn't remember falling asleep, but really, Watanuki never remembered falling asleep. He was just sort of there.

"Haruka-san," he greeted him.

"Watanuki-kun."

There was a silence as Watanuki gathered his thoughts and Haruka just gave him that smile he always wore.

"Haruka-san, you said… You said I had a lot to learn…"

Haruka laughed. "That's true, young shopkeeper." His tone was teasing, but Watanuki didn't feel like obliging him.

"Does that mean you can teach me?" Watanuki asked instead, hesitantly.

"Maybe. Depends on the question, doesn't it?"

He did have a point there.

Watanuki took a breath. "Then, I have some questions."

"Ask away."

He didn't know where to start.

"I granted a wish."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I, I don't know how exactly, it was the shop, I think, but… I didn't take enough payment and…"

"Ah." Haruka took a long breath from his cigarette and leaned back on the porch. "The shop demands balance."

"I know that, but… It was a gift. Gifts are from feelings, right? I've given gifts, I can-"

"No. You can't give gifts, Watanuki-kun," he told him, confirming what Watanuki had suspected, but didn't want to believe. "If you give, you must take, and it must be equal, or the shop will take it from you."

"Will it happen again?"

Haruka didn't reply. Either way, he didn't need to. Already knew the reply.

It would. It would happen again. It would happen often, until he got the hang of it. But he'd rather get hurt than overcharge a customer. He'd probably get hurt anyways, if he overcharged a customer.

He was tied to this shop now. Tied to immovable rules and magic that was far older, and far more powerful than anything Watanuki could do.

It felt like he was wrapped in strings, each one set in their place and he couldn't move them, but he'd put them there himself, so he had to accept them. Let them loop and tie and curl around him, keeping him pinned, and in place.

At the same time, it felt like… He didn't have anything. He had nothing. He was just floating, falling. Tied up and falling and failing and so far away.

Watanuki shook the thoughts out of his head, then looked down at his foot, which wasn't injured in the dream, but he could feel the echo of the slash he received in the shop.

"Will it heal?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer. "I, I stopped my time and I don't know how much of the price I have to make up, or if it's going to stay this way? Do you think…?" He trailed off.

Haruka shrugged. "I don't know much about stopped time. Yuuko-san healed from injuries - much more quickly than humans. I think you will too. Give it time."

"Wait- Was Yuuko-san… not human?"

"She was and she wasn't."

A surge of panic went through him.

"Does that mean I…"

"Won't be human?" Haruka finished for him.

Watanuki nodded slowly.

"I suppose it depends on your definition of human, doesn't it?"

The couch was suddenly very uncomfortable, and Watanuki stood up quickly, too quickly, he felt dizzy and he'd put too much pressure on his foot and Yuuko's kimono was nearly falling off.

A headache, the usual headache. A customer? Or Doumeki? Those were the only options, really. He didn't know which one he dreaded more at the moment.

Maru and Moro ran past him with smiles on their faces, and Mokona bounded over.

Doumeki then.

Watanuki evened his breathing as best he could before Doumeki came in, but his eyes were still wide and his hands still shook.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

He should've, he should've have gotten all the information. He should've asked someone. But who, who could have told him? He, he knew he would remain in the shop for, for a long time, probably, and he knew, he knew time wouldn't touch him, but, but, but he didn't know what that would entail. He'd made the decision, but he had none of the information and now he was here, he was here he couldn't do anything about it and he was just, was just making it all up as he went along and finding out something new to panic about almost every day (Every day? How many days? How long have I been here? God, I'll be here forever - no, no only until Yuuko comes. Yuuko will come, Yuuko will fix this, she would, she would).

Doumeki entered the room, a large paper bag in tow and Mokona on his shoulder.

Watanuki adjusted his - Yuuko's robe and tightened the sash, though he still left plenty of skin showing (why? why bother? what sort of reaction was he looking for?).

"Takeout?" he asked, frowning and shifting his weight off his bad foot.

"You're not cooking," Doumeki told him flatly, as if Watanuki wasn't aware of that or something. "You need to eat."

"Do I?" He asked the question out loud, not meaning to, and immediately regretted it. "What did you expect, for me to keep making your bentos every day? Send you off with lunch every morning?" he asked pointedly, trying to cover up. Doumeki had already reacted to him with disgust, he didn't want to find out how much worse would it be if he brought up any of his real concerns.

(It couldn't be that much worse, maybe he could help, maybe he would- no.)

Doumeki seemed to consider the question. Was it really something to consider? What did Doumeki think was going to happen? What did Watanuki think was going to happen?

He didn't know, didn't know. He was tired. Was Yuuko this tired?

"C'mon, the french fries will get cold," was all Doumeki said, then turned around and headed for the kitchen. Again. Like usual. What else was new? He came, said three sentences at most, and then left. Not that Watanuki expected much else from him. He had always been like that.

No. No, they talked before this. Not for a great deal of time, but they had. They had grown to understand one another. God, he irked Watanuki to no end, but… they had grown close, in a way.

Now though… He was so far away.

Everyone was far away.

So Doumeki went to the kitchen and Watanuki wasn't sure he would follow. Doumeki would probably put the bag on the counter, then leave, like he always did, so what was the point?

But then again, what was the point of laying back down on the couch?

So he stood in the same spot. Not moving. Waiting for some sort of direction.

"-here?"

Doumeki was talking.

"What?" Watanuki asked, then processed what he'd just said.

Did you want to eat it in here?

No. No he didn't. He didn't want it at all. But… he hadn't eaten since… he didn't know, and he didn't want to cook and didn't have any food and…

He took in a breath, and tried to pick an act. Yuuko? Or himself? Would he bat his eyelashes and lay back on the sofa with his - her - pipe? Or would he yell and stomp and grab the bag from Doumeki and shoo him away?

"The kitchen is fine," Watanuki said. He spoke low, softly, not at all how he used to.

He then limped his way to the kitchen, following Doumeki, hoping the guy would leave the moment he set the bag down. (Hoping he would stay and talk.) Hoping he would just leave him alone. (Please no, don't go.)

And then Doumeki turned around and shoved the hamburger in Watanuki's face. "Here," he said. "I got one without pickles."

Watanuki jerked back, almost losing balance. He hadn't expected a cheeseburger to be shoved in his face. It was the closest Doumeki had come in a while, and the most invasive he'd been since… Everything. At least he didn't seem… disgusted anymore. Seemed almost normal. Rude, obnoxious, and uncivil, yes, but normal.

"You don't have to shove it in my face," Watanuki muttered despite himself, grabbing the food and unwrapping it to inspect under the bun. Sure enough, no pickles. Good - who put pickles on a hamburger anyways? "It's rude."

So Doumeki shoved some french fries in his face too. More food for Watanuki to take. Which was quite a reversal from him usually shoving empty hands in his direction, expecting them to be filled with food.

And truly… these were Watanuki's favorite french fries. As far as fast-food went. Which wasn't far, obviously. So he quickly snatched the fries with his free hand and sat down, holding a cheeseburger in one hand and fries in the other and suddenly not sure he could muscle it down, especially not with Doumeki staring at him the whole time.

"Don't you have anywhere else you could be?" he asked, none too happily, then put one of the french fries in his mouth.

God, how long had it been since he'd eaten, that this stupid over-salted deep-fried potato tasted so good?

Doumeki sat down, and took his usual forever to answer questions (why won't you talk?), so Watanuki just ate fries and waited.

"It's Sunday," he finally replied.

"Sunday?" Watanuki repeated after swallowing. "Wasn't it just… Wednesday? No. No that was…" He trailed off, then took a bite of his burger. So it was Sunday now, which meant that yesterday was Saturday… was that when he granted the wish? No, was that Friday? What time was it anyways?

Suddenly he felt tired again, and leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Not sleeping though, not yet.

"Oi-"

My name is not 'Oi.'

"Eat some more."

Watanuki sat back up, blinking at Doumeki, who had apparently made it his mission today to get him to eat.

"I'm tired," he said, but he did take a bite out of the burger. Maybe when he was done, Doumeki would leave (don't leave). "Why are you here?"

Doumeki took another bite of his food, and answered with his mouth full.

"Where else would I be?"

"Home?" Watanuki suggested, biting off another fry, but starting to feel too full, even though he hadn't eaten much. "Or at practice?"

Then again, he was always with Watanuki before all this, he must have just thought he still needed to stay around him. Or maybe he felt obligated to bring him things.

Doumeki shrugged, but said nothing.

Watanuki wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him that there was no reason for him to be here, but... Well, if there wasn't a necessity, then Doumeki wouldn't be able to enter the shop, right? The fact that he was still here, still entering the shop... It meant... something. Maybe it just meant the shop cared about Watanuki getting groceries.

He set aside the rest of his food, and stood up, avoiding pressure on his foot. "Thank you for the food," he said, bowing his head slightly, then began to retreat to the couch again, mainly to get Yuuko's pipe, but also because he felt like he could fall asleep right then and there. Kind of wanted to.

Doumeki didn't follow, and Watanuki didn't care (he cared a lot), so he laid back on his couch and smoked Yuuko's pipe.

"But how do I know what the price is?"

Summer now. It was summer in the real world too, and the porch looked the same as it did outside and it made it difficult to distinguish the dream from reality.

But Haruka was there and Watanuki wasn't wearing glasses and he couldn't feel the heat of what looked to be noontime sun.

"You have to know the person to judge the price," Haruka said.

"But these customers… they'll be complete strangers," Watanuki protested.

"You'll find a way. Find your own way."

"How did… she know?"

Haruka laughed. "I don't know."

The wood floor of the porch was warm now, and Watanuki knew he'd woken up before getting any answers.

Why did he never get any answers?

That bang in the back of his head.

He hoped it was Doumeki.

He wanted it to be nobody.

He wished it was Yuuko.

He knew it wasn't.

The visitor was in fact a customer, a little boy who wanted something to give his mother for her birthday. He only had 800 yen in his pocket, and couldn't find anything. What he wanted most was flowers, he said, as they were easy to lay on a gravesite.

Watanuki led him outside to the garden (no longer limping - his foot was almost healed, which he was grateful for, and he was still waiting to see about scarring), and let him take his pick of the flowers. When he'd gathered an armful, Watanuki found a ribbon in the storeroom to tie them together.

It was a beautiful bouquet, and Watanuki was sure the child's mother would love it.

The little boy handed him his 800 yen, but Watanuki didn't want it. A child just wanted flowers for his dead mother and Watanuki was just going to take his 800 yen? Why couldn't he just do a good deed?

But he was tied to the shop, and the shop demanded balance.

He weighed out the options - a definite injury equivalent to the price of the flowers and ribbon, or a possible injury equivalent to the possible deficit.

The little boy held out the money, all in 100 yen coins.

Watanuki hesitated.

"You know what? You cut those flowers yourself," Watanuki said, anticipating what would come when the little boy left. "You can keep them. But I'll take one of your coins for the ribbon, and to remember your visit. Is that alright?"

The boy nodded, and Watanuki took one of the coins from the boy's hand.

He led the boy to the gate and told him to stay closer to his father so he didn't get lost again. The boy asked if Watanuki would come, saying his mother would like him, but Watanuki couldn't go. Couldn't leave that gate. It was so close, the outside, but he couldn't.

His price.

His decision.

The boy ran off, holding the flowers close, and Watanuki sat down at the gate. He felt a jolt of pain on his hand, and looked down to see a small bruise forming. Much better than a gash in the bottom of his foot, or the other small cuts he'd gotten from a couple other wishes he'd granted (somehow). The price was closer to even, not that that helped any future wishes.

Watanuki reached his hand towards the gate, and stopped short. What would happen if he tried to leave? What would happen if he stuck his hand through the space in the fence. Would he make it through? Would it invalidate his price? Would everything go back to normal? Or would it take more from him for breaking the contract? What was "it" anyways? The shop? The universe?

Curiosity got the better of him, and he tried to put his hand through the gate.

He couldn't see it as it passed the threshold.

Panicked, he pulled his hand back to him and inspected it, not sure if it would be there or not.

It was. But for a moment, a split-second… It had stopped existing.

If Watanuki left this shop…

He wouldn't exist anymore. He would just… stop.

Although he could see the outside, he couldn't… Wouldn't be able to…

Until Yuuko came back. When, when Yuuko came back, he would run errands for her and live in his own apartment again and he would, maybe he would go back to school and everything!

Watanuki sat on the path and looked through the gate. At the city. At the people passing by who saw this place as an empty lot and couldn't see Watanuki.

Which didn't matter. To them, Watanuki didn't exist.

He wasn't part of that world anymore anyways. Was he ever, really? His whole life, what he could remember, he'd been far closer to, to spirits than to any humans. And that was what he was now, in the eyes of humans. A spirit. A stranger who granted wishes (poorly) in a shop only seen by few. A fairy tale.

He sat, cross-legged, staring out the gate, until afternoon became evening and suddenly Doumeki was there, just on the other side of the gate. Where Watanuki didn't exist.

I'm not real, he wanted to say, and wanted to hear Doumeki deny it. He wanted to hear Doumeki tell him he was wrong, and he was real.

No, he wanted Yuuko to tell him. He wanted Yuuko to tell him everything would be alright. She always had before, that's, that's what she was supposed to do. She was, she was everything. This shop was everything. He couldn't even remember his parents, it was just Yuuko, and she left.

And Doumeki, Doumeki wasn't going to do anything. He wasn't going to offer advice, or tell him what he should be doing, or comfort him the way Yuuko did. With soft words and kind expressions and tight hugs.

Himawari might have done something, but she couldn't come to the shop. Yuuko had told her not to, Watanuki would uphold it, though he wished desperately that he didn't have to. Maybe he would call her. Maybe she could sit outside the gate and they could talk. Could she see the shop still? Would she… Would she even be able to see Watanuki?

Watanuki looked up at Doumeki, and realized there were tears in his eyes. But they hadn't fallen yet, so he wiped them away quickly under his glasses before they made it down his cheeks.

Doumeki looked down at him, and Watanuki couldn't read his expression.

"What are you doing?"

What, indeed.

Watanuki stood up, using the fence to balance, and acted out his charade. Played the part. Did what he was supposed to. Posed with his head tilted up condescendingly. Smirked and blinked slowly. Waited for Doumeki to react. To see right through it.

"Thinking," Watanuki told him honestly. He wanted to talk, wanted to say something, but didn't want to talk, didn't want to say anything. "It's a lovely day outside." He wanted someone to reassure him, but didn't want to ask for reassurance. Keep the conversation light, keep it light.

Doumeki came through the gate, and Watanuki felt the bang at the back of his head as he came through the barrier. He turned to look at the street, probably wondering what Watanuki had been staring at. Apparently he found nothing (there was something, there was everything, there was nothing, not without Yuuko), so he turned back to Watanuki and held up the bag.

"Come inside to eat."

Watanuki hummed and pouted at the bag.

Doumeki had apparently given up on Watanuki cooking anytime soon, as he continued to bring takeout for him and the others. Mokona made an appearance occasionally, he found, though usually to greet Doumeki and request that they drink together. Last time he stopped by, Doumeki took him up on the offer.

Why did Doumeki keep checking up on him? He was in his last year of school (would Watanuki be in his last year of school too? He didn't know, couldn't remember), and surely he had entrance exams to study for and other obligations. And yet, here he was, checking on Watanuki as obsessively as ever.

But it made Maru and Moro and Mokona happy to see him, so Watanuki shouldn't complain so much. But he did. He did complain. He didn't want to see him stand there. Watanuki wasn't hungry. He was nauseous, sick to his stomach, didn't want to deal with this. Deal with anything, really.

He was fine with waiting, he really was. He could wait. He could wait as long as he had to, he would wait as long as he had to, but god, this wasn't what he thought at all…

"No," Watanuki said. "The porch." That was where he'd left the pipe and its stand and an unopened bottle of good sake he was planning on drinking before the little boy came. Doumeki would appreciate the sake, and maybe if he drank he might either shut up and go away, or stay and say something, because shutting up and staying was obnoxious (it hurt).

Doumeki looked him over, then shrugged and led the way along the path around the shop to the backyard.

Watanuki laid back on the porch and opened the bottle of sake as Doumeki took the food out of the bag.

The smell of it made him nauseous, and he resolved to only pick at it (if he bothered with it at all) and insist that Doumeki never go to this restaurant again. Not that he had any control over that, Doumeki would bring back what he brought back and Watanuki would either eat it or throw it out, it was as simple as that.

The kitchen had fallen into disuse, and it was a shame, but Watanuki didn't have the energy to cook. He'd probably fall asleep with a burner on and the shop would burn down and only Doumeki would find out.

He poured a cup of sake for Doumeki, then set the bottle aside for Doumeki to fill his own cup.

Instead, Doumeki pushed the container of food into his hands.

"Food first," he said.

Watanuki looked down at his empty cup and scowled.

"And since when are you in the habit of denying me a drink?" he asked, taking the container of ramen, opening it, and scowling at that as well.

"I'm eating too," Doumeki replied, then took a bite of the ramen. He looked about as happy to eat is as Watanuki was, and Watanuki wondered what was the point of them both eating something they don't like.

"I don't want this," Watanuki said, and he didn't know if he was talking about the food, his price, Doumeki, or something else entirely.

He knew what he wanted (he didn't know at all) and what he wanted was Yuuko, but she wasn't here and he was, so he set aside the ramen, took Doumeki's cup, and drank the sake. She never let Watanuki get in the way of a drink, he wasn't about to let Doumeki succeed in that.

Doumeki was quiet a moment, and looked down at his noodles.

"Neither do I," he said finally.

Watanuki widened his eyes for a moment, but put a mask back on, this one condescending. He'd won this argument. If you could consider something like this an argument. It wasn't, really, compared to their old standard.

"Good," he said. "We agree on something." So he poured another cup of sake and handed it to Doumeki, but Doumeki didn't take it.

Maybe he hadn't won.

"You never turned down drinks before," Watanuki said.

He'd had Doumeki responding less than a minute ago, and now that he offered him sake - high-quality too - he was silent. Silent. Not even looking. Not looking at all even though Watanuki was right there right there right in front of him, like he was in front of the people on the streets.

Is that how this would end? Would Doumeki give up on him one day and just never come back? Become one of those people in the streets? Forget Watanuki? Would he stumble in one day far in the future as a customer? Or would Watanuki never see him again? Did he want that? Did he want this?

Doumeki set down his chopsticks and took a breath. He looked angry and Watanuki was interested to see what he would do.

"I don't want to drink."

"Mm. I don't believe that," Watanuki said. It was the most he'd gotten out of the guy since everything and he wasn't about to stop. Wasn't about to stop this interaction, this conversation, as stupid as it was. He hadn't, hadn't talked to anyone but a few customer and the girls and sometimes Mokona and, god, he needed this. No, he didn't really need this he was fine.

Watanuki finished his cup, set it aside, and lit Yuuko's pipe. The burn wasn't so bad, and it almost felt good in his lungs. Put something in there that wasn't heartache.

He drew in a long breath, then blew the smoke out in Doumeki's direction.

"Fine," Doumeki said, but continued eating. "You should eat too."

Watanuki grinned at the response. It really was an actual conversation. Kind of.

No, he wasn't going to eat the food, but he would play with this a little bit. Something to get his mind off everything, or maybe get his mind on something. He didn't know which, didn't care.

He twisted himself around so he was laying on his stomach, and crossed his bare feet in the air.

"I don't want ramen," he said, breathing out another trail of smoke and watching it dance in front of him. "I want… inarizushi," he decided. Why not? It was Doumeki's favorite and wouldn't it be fun to turn that back on him?

"You don't have any of that."

Watanuki frowned and stared at his untouched ramen next to him. That never stopped you from requesting things.

"That's true," he said, and almost told Doumeki to go grocery shopping.

But then he'd have groceries and Doumeki would expect him to cook and make bentos, probably. Looking at the guy though, he could probably use a few bentos.

"Next time you come, bring that," he said, then took another long inhale from the pipe, and rest his head on his bruised hand, which was a mistake so he sat up, cross-legged under his - Yuuko's - silk, then grabbed Doumeki's other cup of sake. If he wasn't drinking it, Watanuki would.

But Doumeki took it from his hand and drank it himself. Watanuki frowned, but part of him was elated (he wasn't elated, Doumeki was being a jerk, no he was happy, was he happy? no.). It was just how it was before. Doumeki stealing food and Watanuki getting upset.

Except now it was alcohol, not food - it would have never been alcohol before, Watanuki rarely drank, never drank, he had no tolerance for it - he did now.

Another deep breath from the pipe, and then he leaned back and looked at the sunset.

And then Doumeki stopped, just put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. Maybe Watanuki should have said something to keep it going, but the moment was passed and and maybe it could happen again, but not tonight.

He put the pipe aside and refilled Doumeki's cup, then held his own empty one out to be filled, which it was this time. They were quiet a moment, both drinking.

"How long has it been?" he asked suddenly, not sure why he was asking, it didn't matter, but still. Still, he'd like to know. It felt like forever and no time at all.

Doumeki apparently had to think about the question.

"Mm… a few weeks, I think. Maybe more."

"You think?" Watanuki asked. "Don't you go to school?"

"I don't remember the date."

"Neither do I," Watanuki said after finishing off his cup. Leading up to everything… At the time he could barely tell when he was awake or dreaming or how fast time was passing or anything like that, and now he didn't know how long he spent awake asleep awake asleep awake dreaming dazed asleep and thinking about it he was tired again.

"Maybe I should get a calendar." He laid back on the porch and closed his eyes, not sure if he would sleep or just lay there.

But apparently he slept because then it was morning and Doumeki was gone.

A/N: Alright so maybe I decided to keep going with Shopkeeper in my off time, so sue me.