Shizuka: Quiet

A/N: Thank you to all my supporters and readers! It was because of you that I found the drive and inspiration to write again after three whole monts of absence. I'll be sure to answer a bit more quickly next time.

And once again, thank you all very much!

Chapter 3: The Pact

"What do I do?"

There was a place that everyone had when they needed to think, a place that brought calm and center and washed away the worries of the world. For Doumeki, that was his shrine's memorial room where his grandfather's picture lay. The altar was immaculate, cleaned by Doumeki every day and fresh flowers were plentiful, camellia and lily, placed there by his mother because the old man loved to plant them. Heavy incense mingled with the clean scent of Shizuka's shampoo as he sat meditatively on his knees.

Hands on knees, chin up and eyes closed he could almost picture his grandfather asking him what was wrong. The old man could somehow always read him, even when his parents never could, a fact that both annoyed him and he was infinitely grateful for. If he had the same powers as Watanuki, who knows? Maybe he really was...

"Everything he said was true, all of it. Maybe... maybe this will be able to make me happy?"

He dropped his face from the ceiling, opening his eyes and training them on the hands tightening into fists on his knees. They seemed like such good strong hands, Doumeki thought to himself. Wide and long fingered, but thick with muscle. Dextrous enough to grasp the bowstring firmly, and strong enough to hold it back for hours if necessary. And yet, when he pulled and grasped at the desire he felt, they couldn't hold purchase for even one second. And when he thought of the strange man, the magician, they trembled as if they couldn't hold up a child's kodama. After a few more minutes of thinking in the sacred place, he came to the conclusion that even if he decided not to go tomorrow night, he would go one day and there was no point in delaying fate.

He let out a sigh, resigned. He stood, blowing out the candles he lit and leaving the incense to finish it's cycle.

"Thanks for listening, jii-san."

He shuffled up to bed, strangely empty for all the thinking he had done...

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The next day plodded on as all days do. Get up, shower again as if he'd ever feel clean after the previous night, go to school. Normally, Doumeki floated through his day with a sense of bored detachment, as if nothing was good enough to draw his attention for very long. Today there was a heaviness in his aura that was almost palpable. His classmates edged from his a bit, whispering to each other "What could be wrong? Poor Doumeki-san..."

The tension and pressure came to a head that lunchtime. Watanuki hunted out his friend/rival/enemy/partner and presented him with his bento lunch, as usual. Wrapped in a blue hanky with carefully arranged rice and shrimps and those damn chestnuts that he had to take a bus to the specialty foods store to buy and roast to the archer's liking, it was pretty as a picture and Watanuki's pride as ever.

It was a secret victory, he felt, over the larger boy. He might have been taller and stronger and better in sports and more popular and... LOTS of stuff, but he couldn't cook worth a damn! So, even if he complained, he always brought him lunch and that was CERTAINLY the only reason. Not because he enjoyed preparing food for Doumeki of course, naturally, because that could never, EVER be the case.

The archer was found beneath a tree, odd that he was isolated when he usual stood out like a sore thumb so that he could drag Watanuki up to the roof to eat. The shade dappled over his tan flesh, making parts of it look almost sickly and his eyes were blank in a way that wasn't typical Doumeki, they were more focused in than anything. It was strange and Watanuki didn't particularly like the vibe it gave him, but stopped worrying when he realized that the big idiot would forget all about it after the first bite.

Watanuki thrust Doumeki's bento out at him with a dramatic sigh.

"Food."

There was a moment of silence and Watanuki shook the bento a bit as if it would draw the archer's attention.

"Hello? FOOD. The FOOD I made for you and even the damn nuts I had to take the bus and switch over TWICE to get, I'll have you know. And don't think it makes you special or anything."

Watanuki felt a little better about being ignored after his rant, but that feeling was quickly subsumed by worry as the archer remained silent and unmoving. This was certainly NOT Doumeki.

"Doumeki? What's wrong? Don't tell me you got your soul eaten AGAIN."

It was said as a jest, naturally, the kind of thing that would spark a familiar argument. The way that Doumeki's eyes slid over him as if he wasn't there was even more disturbing because of it.

"Oh. Hi Himawari."

The cute teen had bounced her way over to the pair, curiously without her customary yell and wave of cheery greeting. She was frozen in place a few steps away from the pair, her body frozen by the invisible tension running through the air.

"Ummm... Doumeki-kun? Watanuki-kun? Is there something wrong?"

Watanuki wanted to bring it up again, but couldn't in front of Himawari. It felt like the kind of thing they would have to sort out later... Even Himawari's sparkling presence couldn't banish the worry plaguing him. He supposed it was just his nature to care about even his worst enemy, but there just wasn't something RIGHT about the archer. Almost as if he were... tainted somehow.

"N-nothing, Himawari-chan! Here, sit down and share my cream croquettes!"

"Oh... okay!"

Lunch proceeded as usual, but Doumeki remained silent. Watanuki was unwilling to bring anything up, and Himawari wisely spoke only to Watanuki as she assumed he knew more about Doumeki than anyone else anyway and if there was something she could have done, he would have let her know.

The end of lunch saw a lonely tree, with a pair of chopsticks stabbed into the ground between it's roots like a funeral stone.

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"What happened back there?"

Watanuki caught his rival after school behind the archery range. It was convenient as no one was there and it was on the way to Doumeki's club, so Kimihiro had known where to waylay him.

Blue eyes narrowed a bit and Watanuki scowled.

"Did you hear me? I want to know what happened. Why the hell did you treat me as if I didn't exist? What's wrong?"

Doumeki mumbled something and brushed past the slighter boy, sho grabbed onto his elbow.

"Hey! What was that?"

"I said... You wouldn't understand yet."

Doumeki pulled free of the other boy's grip and, when he was grabbed again as he turned around, he pushed the other boy to the ground almost violently.

"Ow! What the HELL, Doumeki?"

Watanuki's face was mingled with both anger and fear, Doumeki tore away from the sight.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll find out."

He disappeared around the corner, away from his club meeting and Watanuki could only stare after him, oddly unable to move...

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Shizuka knew he was there. He had been ready to go to the street where the magician first showed up, but suddenly realized that it wasn't necessary as a wave of something like triumph rolled over his skin.

"Excellent. Are we ready to make a deal?"

Doumeki spun around in his desk chair, face set in stone.

"What do I have to do."

The clown produced a slip of paper, not unlike the one Yuuko had given him before, and held it out to him.

"Just press this to your heart, and repeat after me word for word. Ready?"

He pressed the paper to his chest, wrinkling it around the edges and dampening it with sweat.

"I, Doumeki Shizuka..."

"I, Doumeki Shizuka..."

A curious heat rose from the paper, and a pulse ran through him...

"Do hearby pledge myself to Azato Hisoka."

"Do hearby pledge myself to Azato Hisoka."

The arcane text glowed and it felt hot in his hand...

"For the fair exchange of one life for another."

"For the fair exchange of one life for another."

A sharp pain ran through him, but he grit his teeth and continued.

"And the power to fulfill my duty, until my pact is complete."

"And the power to fulfill my duty, until my pact is complete. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Doumeki was suddenly holding onto nothing and it was like a knife, a knife of fire and scorn and hate and a thousand sharp-edged words and it plunged into his body and wrapped around his heart and his shirt was in ruins from the massive, raw POWER given off. It was strength distilled, spiritual power forced into him. Doumeki fell to his floor, back arching from the carpet as a tatto seared it's way across the flesh of his chest and stomach. A wave of massive pressure pressed down around him and he realized that it was HIS pressure.

"Oh GOD."

Hisoka the clown smirked.

"Nothing to do with god."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGH!"

Doumeki slammed his fists into the ground next to him and arched his back as another SCREAM ripped it's way out of his throat and he wondered how is neighbors didn't hear it as his parent were away. The screams encompassed his world and his fists had gone THROUGH his floor and the carpet was scorching away from the power surging out of him.

The window behind Hisoka exploded outward, but the clown just smiled away and stared at Doumeki. His muscles rippled beneath his flesh and his handsome face was letting out screams that seemed to tear it in half, and the aura of blue around him was so beautiful. The man bit at his overlong nails, his eyes bulging and grin widening in mad glee. He giggled mercilessly right up until the glow faded and receded into his new charge's body. The room was ashambles, all scorched and blasted. The clown waved his hand and nonchalantly restored it to it's former order, glass in the window and holes out of the floor and all.

For the second time in as many days, Doumeki laid prone beneath that wicked smiling face.

"Good, wasn't it? And now you have both the power and the obligation to do what it is I require of you. In return, Watanuki Kimihiro will belong to you, heart, mind, soul... and BODY. HEEHEEHEE!"

The boy stared at his ceiling.

"The ofuda knows what I want you to do."

The boy stared at the ceiling.

"Take your bow with you, and use the power I have given you well, my son.

The boy stared at his ceiling, and nodded, and felt so damn GOOD.

"Yes, sensei."

"Delightful."

The magicial leapt out the window, no trace of his passing remained.

Doumeki sat up, then stood slowly, moving to perch on the end of his bed.

"I can do anything. I can fucking do ANYTHING."

And he knew precisely what he had, and wanted to do...

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Yuuko sat pensively, sprawled gracefully across her seat in the main room of the shop as usual. Watanuki had been so quiet in his diligence that day, when he would have been cooing over Himawari or fuming over work or grumbling about something Doumeki did in that sweet way he had. There was something terribly wrong, something MASSIVELY wrong and it wasn't just HERE. Yuuko sensed something on the periphery of her spiritual senses. It was deadly and focused.

And it was coming for her.