| Chapter 9 |

Kochoushu wakes up, heart hammering in her chest, and sits up in bed with a gasp.

She can see nothing of the rooms beyond this one; there is just this darkness, which feels as if it hangs over the room like a heavy veil, or perhaps a cloying substance. With one trembling hand, she makes a clawed warding gesture like Watanuki taught her, then turns on the light. To her relief, the lamp glows warmly.

Even so, the dream weighs on her limbs. She remembers hanging from her wrists in the darkness, the stolen breath leached from paper-thin lungs, a body of cobwebs and dust at long last allowed to crumble away.

As she always calmed herself since she was young, she meditates. Slowly she refocuses her eyes to look beyond and further into the past. She sees the previous inhabitants, and the building of the house, and the field that had been, and the farm before it, and deeper and deeper into a deep green forest that never seemed to end, waxing and waning to appear older or younger. 500 years of history, perhaps; that is the limit she reckons her Sight can see.

She opens her eyes. All is still.

Today, perhaps she will speak to Watanuki. She tilts her head. Or not.

She feels like dressing for the occasion. She roots through her closet, searching for the appropriate attire amongst the racks, which she pushes this way and that. To her irritation, most of her clothes look too young. Her mother keeps hoping that she will take to wearing white as if she was still a little girl. Kochoushu has trouble remembering what it was like, to feel merely "pretty" and "cute" in those colors. Right now, she wants something dark and lean and red...

At last, she finds the right one. She fishes it off the hanger and slips it on. Next: a necklace, bangles, patterned tights, and tall heeled shoes.

Kochoushu frowns at herself in the mirror and taps a comb on the dresser. This is what she wants, and yet it also feels like dressing up: not like trying to be someone "else," but trying vainly to emulate the person she is going to become, but isn't yet. As if she is skipping steps.

She puts on the earrings, and feels a little sad. Making a face in the mirror, she squares her shoulders and tosses her long hair over her shoulder. It can't be helped. She is who she is right now.

Will Watanuki look at her differently, she wonders, on the day she becomes that person?

She frustrates herself with such thoughts. It wasn't as if her desire to be the person-she-wasn't-yet had changed since she met Watanuki: the gap between that self, and this one, had only shortened drastically, faster than the gap had closed at any other point in her life since she had become aware of discrepancy, around the time when she became a woman.

Kochoushu throws the comb at her pillow in a fit of pique and glowers at the mirror.

But she can't hold the frown for long. A smug, confident smile tugs at her lips, and she feels better.

Kochoushu takes her copy of the house key and takes off for the wishing shop. Her stomach grumbles as she walks, but the thought of Watanuki's food is more appealing than anything she could make for herself at home, and she knows he would never let her work on an empty stomach.

Thoughts of tricking him into making breakfast put a spring in her step, so she almost isn't paying attention when she walks into the square haunted by what she called the "sometimes" sakura tree, the Blood Sakura, and the hair rises on the back of her neck.

Without willing it, images of the deaths that have occurred here rise before her eyes—corpses buried, decapitated, bodies drained of blood, hanged men, seppuku and a pale face wearing a yuki-onna's triumphant smirk, bodies broken, a spate of gruesome but artistically arranged remains, ribbons and waving branches and elaborate lures devouring...the stench of decaying, sheer death... and Kochoushu doubles over and gags. This is even more urgent, and recent. The wind whistling around the mighty trunk, a two boys and a promise, marks and a spell of forgetting—black gloves—cruel mercy—substitute sacrifice in a whirl of white—white lab coat, clinical disinterest—spatters of blood, mixed eyes. Hand through heart. Bleeding out... Heart through hand. A new master...

Kochoushu wipes tears from her eyes, shuddering. During the vision she had fallen to her knees; she picks herself up, now, and steps back. The history of this place has never been so strong before.

Sterile, moans the tree, a whisper in her mind. Artless, clean...stale...prey...hunger

She never heard the tree speak before, if this could be called speaking: the creaking of wood, the waving of the branches, looming and fattening, the impression the tree evokes with its power. She is rooted to where she stands, mesmerized. The branches reach for her, closer and closer, and she can't move, even if she wanted to...

She feels two hands grasp her shoulders from behind, and she starts violently, but the grip is very firm. Before she can react, he turns her around, and Kochoushu finds herself staring into the face of the betrayed one, older and wiser and infinitely sadder in middle age. She senses that at this point, it's too late to run; but this man, of all the people connected to this bloody tree, might be reasoned with. He was not indoctrinated into the work, after all, but coerced. Unlike his predecessors, the appearance of gentility is not illusion, but genuine.

This does not make him any less fundamentally deadly.

"I felt the security spells breach," says the man, too calmly. "Truly, I would rather not have to kill you, but you saw me at work."

Kochoushu shakes her head. "No, I didn't."

"Oh?" A flash of interest spreads across his face, a hope he quickly crushes. But he asks.

"I didn't see you. I saw the past," she says quickly between breaths.

The man's eyebrows lift. "Is that so? Then I apologize. However..."

Alarm flashes through her; she is losing her chance. "Also, I think you should know that I, I am under the protection of my teacher, Watanuki Kimihiro," Kochoushu gasps out in a rush, grasping for the only connection she can think of to save herself.

The man relaxes and smiles faintly. "I was about to say, all the more reason to let you alone. The shopkeeper could certainly corroborate your story, though I'm afraid we don't keep in touch. Perhaps this was fate after all...unmei." He says it, and a shadow crosses his face... "As it happens, I am in need of a favor only he can grant, if it can be granted at all."

"You mean a wish?" Kochoushu asks foolishly.

"If he insists on calling it so." The man releases her, and studies her. "But my true wish was thwarted many years ago. All that is left are pale shadows brought about by its consequences... You remind me of someone," he says abruptly.

"Who?" Kochoushu says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear out of nervousness.

He gazes at her for a few seconds more, then shakes his head. "Upon reflection, I believe it would be wiser not to say."

A brief spasm of frustration flashes over her face. "Why not?"

He smiles sadly. "Unmei is not often kind, and you have the opportunity to make your own path. Why not make the most of it, little witch? If it is meant to be, you will discover the truth for yourself in due time."

She crosses her arms. "Not necessarily." He shrugs, and she frowns and changes the subject. "How do you know I am a witch, particularly, and not—?"

"—some other type of practitioner?" the man finishes wryly. "I can feel it in the shape of your magic, which is not unfamiliar. You could say it has a keen sense of balance, give and take, and a uniquely Shinto slant. It is, for the most part, diagnostic. It is not a specialty intended for battle, which is why I was surprised to find my wards breached."

"I'm afraid I don't know how I got past them myself, because I simply didn't notice them. I've found this place before, but..." Kochoushu stops.

The man's eyes widen, definitely taken aback. "Before? Without shredding the alarm spells? And you didn't even feel...? You are most formidable."

"I never mean to come here. Just, suddenly..." Kochoushu says weakly. "I think I forgot the way not to come today."

He frowns. "We must remedy that at once. Given who you are, it would only make sense. Today you were very lucky. It wouldn't do to have interruptions, even if incidents do happen more rarely these days..." he murmurs to himself. "But of course it would only be polite to have a quiet word with your teacher. His student should not be wandering about unprotected. I don't suppose you could lead the way?"

"I was actually on my way there..."

"Well met indeed."

So Kouchoushu lead Japan's most dangerous and formidable assassin, the last of the Sakurazukamori, to the wishing shop.

"When you stayed the night after the retreat, I didn't think you would be staying all weekend," Watanuki snipes.

Shizuka flicks the newspaper he's reading, and doesn't otherwise react.

"Hey, are you listening to me?!"

Shizuka shrugs.

Watanuki sighs. "What do you think you're doing," he mutters, and gets up to brew tea. "Kochoushu's late."

Shizuka looks up.

"Oh, she's coming now," Watanuki says, in response to Shizuka's inquiring look. "I wouldn't be too concerned."

Shizuka shook his head and finishes his bowl of rice and hands it to Watanuki for seconds before Watanuki has left. Watanuki rolls his eyes, whisks into the kitchen to refill it, and puts on the kettle before the doorbell rings—and Watanuki nearly jumps out of his skin. Watanuki dumps Shizuka's rice on the table and rushes to answer the door, shedding his apron as he goes and tossing it on a convenient chair.

"What?" Shizuka looks from the door to Watanuki and back.

"Death—" comes the hissed reply, just barely enough time for a hasty warning, as the door clicks open.

Shizuka pushes back his chair, stands—turns—

He sees Watanuki bow deeply. "Good morning. I'm afraid you have my student in your care." Watanuki's voice somehow passes for calm, but he is forced to skim over the syllables of his words, and the greeting is not as impartial as is customary when he is acting as shopkeeper.

"Yes, I came to return her," comes the reply from a man Shizuka cannot see.

"You have my thanks." The genkan creaks; shoes thud onto the wooden platform.

"No, not at all. It was a relief." The wood of the genkan creaks again. "Though it is necessary, I possess no fondness for my job."

"I understand..." Watanuki's voice falls.

Kochoushu emerges first, ahead of them all; she scurries around the corner to Shizuka's side and plops down next to him. She points to the rice bowl. Rice? Breakfast?

Shizuka points to the kitchen. Kochoushu takes off like a shot, eager to put distance between herself and their visitor.

Watanuki emerges with the Sakurazukamori in tow. The Sakurazukamori surveys his surroundings appraisingly. "In the middle of breakfast, I see. My errand can wait a little longer; please, finish your meal."

Exchanging glances with Watanuki, Shizuka slowly sits back down. The Sakurazukamori draws up a seat beside him, and Watanuki sits next to Shizuka, opposite the Sakurazukamori. "Would you do me the honor of introducing us?" the Sakurazukamori asks politely.

"Sakurazukamori, this is my friend, Shizuka Doumeki. Shizuka, this is Subaru Sumeragi Sakurazukamori. He is...older than he looks. He found himself in the wrong trade for his talents, you might say."

Shizuka is on high alert, and doesn't react or respond. He sits very still, eyes darting between the two magic workers.

The Sakurazukamori laughs bitterly under his breath. "My grandmother couldn't come to terms with it..."

"We both know magic serves its own ends."

"It is so. In fact, it is about such a matter that I have come to consult you."

"I would never have assumed you had come only to escort my student. Coincidences do not exist in this world." Watanuki smiles tightly.

"Sadly, I am not in a position to debate..." the Sakurazukamori trails off. "But I would not deny that the timing may have been fortunate for her sake, as well."

Watanuki frowns suddenly. "In fact, I would very much like to know how she ended up on your territory. I thought you were too good for that."

"So did I. But it's in her nature." The Sakurazukamori lowers his voice. "And it's in her title."

"The Witch of Space and Time? The Dimensional Witch?"

"Yes. I was not aware of her presence until today, but she claims she has found the Blood Sakura before." The Sakurazukamori looks at Watanuki expectantly.

Watanuki massages his temples, aware of an impending headache. "Unfortunately, I am not aware of the protocol for this situation. Is there something you would advise that I teach her?"

"Yes. Many things." The Sakurazukamori's voice is clipped. "Perhaps we should put the matter aside as a possibility for payment?"

Watanuki nods and bows slightly. "I will consider it. Thank you for the suggestion."

"Then in the interest of time I shall go ahead and describe the favor I have to ask of you. I am sure you are aware of my peculiar status?"

"I have heard rumors, yes. Would you continue to explain?"

"As the Sakurazukamori, I can only be killed by the one I love, who becomes my successor. However, that man was my predecessor, and thanks to the spell wrought by my twin sister, he chose death by my hand, and it was not my choice. The simple fact is that there is no one to succeed me. I will never fall in love again. I ask that you look into my future and tell me if that is not so."

Watanuki is already shaking his head.

The Sakurazukamori nods once. "Then I have my twin to thank for effectively ending the Sakurazukamori. In all its irony, it is the greatest triumph any of the Sumeragis have ever had over their adversary. Yet here I stand, a failure as a Sumeragi and a reluctant Sakurazukamori."

"Regardless of the rumors of your unique circumstances, it did not occur to me to wonder what happened to you after you took on the job," Watanuki admits. "Our paths have never crossed before, even as professionals."

"I met Ichihara Yuuko when she was alive," the Sakurazukamori said gravely, "and I was not even a trained onmyouji then. It is well past time..."

"...to end the line for good. I understand you." Watanuki looks tired. "Why have you not aged?"

"The sakura did not will it. It has power and a mind of its own, and it knows that when I die, it will as well. I have used this fact to my own advantage to minimize the number of sacrifices it requires to sustain it, but it retaliated. It has long been in my mind to speak with you, but seeing your student helped to bring the thought to the forefront, to ask you for advice or aid."

Watanuki props his chin up on one hand. "I do not wish to incur the wrath of the Blood Sakura."

"No, indeed."

Watanuki drums the fingers of the other hand on the table. "It seems unwise to attack it directly."

"I am bound to defend it," states the Sakurazukamori. "If the tree dies, it must be done through natural means, most likely after my own death. But I am not entirely certain."

"I figured as much. But I must think on the matter."

"By all means, finish your breakfast," the Sakurazukamori says.

Watanuki rises to his feet and pushes back on his chair. "Then if you'll excuse me, I'd like to check on Kochoushu..."

"Go ahead."

Watanuki strides into the kitchen.

Kochoushu spins on the tall stool, jabbing her chopsticks into the air in surprise. "Yes?!"

"I see you helped yourself to breakfast," said Watanuki with a small sigh, "But I was wondering if you could tell me how you unwittingly walked into the Sakurazukamori's territory."

Kochoushu slumps, and sets down her chopsticks. "I've always done it. That's why I call it the 'sometimes' cherry tree, because sometimes it's in my way and sometimes not... I try to avoid it, though."

Watanuki scratches his neck. "Did he scare you?"

Kochoushu nods.

"I told you that not everything you would encounter with the Sight would be pleasant, or harmless," Watanuki says grimly.

"I—I know... But I don't think this had anything to do with that. This could have happened any time before I became your apprentice. Look, he didn't want to kill me. But he could have been—could have been forced to."

"Yes." Watanuki pauses. "Kochoushu."

"What?"

"He wants to teach you things I cannot, so you won't be caught like that again."

"Ahhhh...O-oh?" Kochoushu is surprised.

"If you turn down the offer, I'll have him pay some other way. And I would like to...except, I can't teach you what you need to know. Our specialties are too different. And also..."

"What is it?"

"In this world, magic has been waning for a long time. More and more knowledge has been lost, and he is the last heir to two kinds of magic—Sumeragi and Sakurazukamori. I am sure that he wishes to preserve that knowledge if he can, before he passes." Kochoushu stares at Watanuki. "He has little care for the future, but I think he would like to leave this world with a sense of completion. He desires an end; and something must replace his immortality, however inadvertently he gained it in the first place. Something that lives beyond."

Kochoushu glances aside to think this over, and nods slowly. "Most likely."

"But it's your choice, Kochoushu. I can't hand you over to him if you don't feel safe."

"So long as he doesn't kill anyone while he's around me, I should be fine, right?" Kochoushu says, a little too lightly, and her throat closes. "There's nothing to fear."

Watanuki takes a deep breath. "You seem surprisingly okay with the idea."

"Well, Kurogane-san and Fai-san have killed people too, haven't they?" Kochoushu leans forward to hear Watanuki's answer.

"Yes. While on their journey," Watanuki says softly. "And on the battlefield."

"Is assassination so different?"

"I do not know."

"I think it's different. But the sin is the same, isn't it?" Koschoushu looks down at the floor. "Except he was forced to do it."

"But it would affect his soul, wouldn't it?" Watanuki counters.

"Aren't you supposed to be urging me to take his offer?" Watanuki shakes his head. Kochoushu looks down at the floor again. "I think he lost the will to live, once. He hasn't lost it since...not out of love for the world, but out of..." she trails off. "He doesn't take joy in much of anything. But he's still gentle, in his way. In his efficiency. He despises killing. Therefore, the act of killing has become his penance..."

"Such things exist in this world, don't they." Watanuki looked at Kochoushu sadly.

Kochoushu blinked. "Did I say something odd?"

"No, I think you sounded very wise."

"He doesn't deserve it, though," Kochoushu said vehemently. "It's not fair."

"But he thinks he does," explains Watanuki. "And that's fair enough of an exchange for a wish. The purest ones are the hardest on themselves. If they weren't, they would not deserve to be called such. I do not know what his heart has identified as his mistake, but the flaw may be inexcusable only because he regards it as such. Until he can forgive himself, it is impossible to fully repent."

"He'll die before that happens."

Watanuki nods. "Yes. In all probability."

"Can we...make it better?"

"I've never seen you so serious like this before." Watanuki rests his hands on his hips. "You don't fear death, do you?"

Kochoushu shakes her head.

Watanuki sighs again. "I suppose you've made your decision."

"I want him to teach me what I need to know," says Kochoushu, "while he still has time."

For a while, Watanuki stands there muttering to himself. Then he raises his head and says to Kochoushu, "I'll tell him that you accepted his offer. Will you serve tea for us?"

Kochoushu nods and eases off the stool. "I'll be waiting."

"She accepted?" asks the Sakurazukamori.

"Yes," says Watanuki simply, taking his seat back at the table.

"Name your terms and I will abide by them," the Sakurazukamori offers immediately—no, desperately...

Watanuki sits up straighter. "I could make my demands specific, but what they boil down to would be this: her absolute safety while in your care. Do what you think is necessary to ensure it."

"I see." The Sakurazukamori stares at the tablecloth. "If I was in your position, I doubt I would demand any less. Should I fail in my duty, you may strike me down. So: what of my wish?"

"You will lose your immortality, and all of the extra years of youth it afforded you, in exchange for the preservation of knowledge of both your magical heritages. Perhaps even your personal narrative, if you feel the spell requires it. Unlike some of my clients, you are a practitioner so I believe I can trust you with the exact details. My student will aid you in this endeavor. You will die then and there, when your task is complete. Is this the end you searched for?"

"It is sufficient," the Sakurazukamori replies. "I gladly accept the terms, and I shall return here to teach her when I can. With that, I must take my leave. I cannot put off my duty any longer. Today, the tree is hungry, and I have already received my orders." The Sakurazukamori stands.

Watanuki and Shizuka shiver.

Kochoushu comes out with the green tea the moment the Sakurazukamori left.

"You're late," Watanuki says shortly.

Kochoushu ignores him and pours the tea anyway, and seats herself in the place the Sakurazukamori vacated.

"You're okay with this?" asks Shizuka.

"Yes." Kochoushu sips her tea. When Shizuka doesn't pick up his cup, she gestures and says, "Go on. Take communion."

Shizuka glances at Watanuki, and they drink together.

Kochoushu lowers her cup slowly. "Something's changed, hasn't it? Between you two? I thought you were together at first, but then I realized you weren't...yet."

Watanuki reddens somewhat. "Changed, I...I wonder?"

To Kochoushu, he was about as obvious as a decorated Valentine's card.

"Doumeki-san told you he loves you, didn't he?" Kochoushu's eyes flicker between Watanuki and Shizuka's faces. "You seem...united."

Shizuka's eyes turn to Watanuki, watching for the slightest expression.

"...maybe." It's the smallest of admissions, for Watanuki.

"You don't have to hide it in front of me." Kochoushu sips her tea, and raises her eyebrows when they don't smile.

"Apparently not," Watanuki says slowly.

"I'm glad for you then."

"I haven't accepted him yet..."

"I see," Kochoushu says softly. She finishes her tea in one more gulp, and stands up. "Thank you for breakfast. I'll return home now."

Watanuki blinks. "What?" Already?

"You two still have a lot left to work out. I shan't disturb you."

Kochoushu got up from the table, bowed, and left. The door clicked shut behind her. The room was still.

Watanuki turned slowly to meet Shizuka's eyes—their intent. "More to work out, she says." The words drop from Watanuki's numb lips.

Shizuka nods.

"I have to give you a proper answer, don't I?" Watanuki fiddles with his hair.

Shizuka shakes his head.

Watanuki leans into his side. "Why does this feel so good, I wonder?"

Shizuka's arm pulls him tight, and Watanuki clings to it. "Because this is enough."

"You were scared, today. Weren't you, Shizuka? You were tense, but you hardly said anything."

"Yes."

"Doumeki would have...Doumeki would have tried to stop him from coming in, I think. Or tried to stop me from dealing with him."

"I thought... I could have, but I..." Shizuka hesitates. "I trust you."

"Why?"

"Your domain is here, where this is your element. If am able to help you, it is only because you tell me how."

"I've made mistakes in the past." Watanuki holds up his left hand, turning it so as to look at the paralyzed pinky. "Surely you remember those." He lets his hand fall.

"My great-grandfather does," Shizuka corrects him.

"Ah."

"His memories are not as real. They can't get in the way of how I felt when I first saw you, what you've become to me in all this time we've been together. How beautiful. How graceful. How wise." Shizuka breathes deeply. "Though neither us have been wise at the things that mattered most to us. We—I realized I forgave you for that. If you couldn't see the truth then it was partly our fault for not showing you. My great-grandfather thought...I think he thought sometimes that you saw and didn't care. Only I guessed that you couldn't see at all, because we were similar, and if you had known you would have cared."

"He didn't trust me..."

"No. But you didn't, either."

Only the sound of their breath permeates the air between them.

"True," says Watanuki finally. "Not about the deeper things."

"Deeper than life-and-death..."

Strange, isn't it?

Silence again.

"Shizuka?"

Too much time must have passed; Watanuki's hand stray brushes Shizuka's cheek, slides thin strands of hair out of his eyes. Shizuka startles a little. "Hm?"

"Have you thought about my offer? About the connection to my eye?" Watanuki wonders aloud.

"Yes."

"Have you...have you made a decision?"

"I must decline," Shizuka says, quietly but firmly.

Watanuki blinks, somewhat surprised. "I see."

"It would be a good gift," Shizuka explains, "but I simply couldn't trust myself with it. And I want to trust you, is all," Shizuka continues. "But I would come to rely on the connection. You don't need protecting the way you did when my great-grandfather was alive. You see strange things all the time. Good and often beautiful things, sometimes, but they would be frightening for me. If I took your gift, I wouldn't understand what you saw, and worry too often over nothing. Eventually, doubt would come between us."

"How...how do you figure?" Watanuki asks, somewhat confused.

"I would stifle you."

Watanuki crept to his side, and took his hand, and looked deep into his green eyes. "You aren't your great-grandfather." His hands slid up Shizuka's arms to brace his shoulders. Shizuka leaned back, trapped, eyes locked on Watanuki's.

"No," says Shizuka softly, without moving, staying perfectly still, "I'm not..."

"Are you certain that—that wasn't his mistake?" Watanuki asks softly, dropping his voice.

Shizuka struggles not to move, not to overwhelm. "No. Because I already trust you, it would be mine. And I...I love you."

After meeting that calm, solemn gaze fore even a second, Watanuki has to lower his eyes, or risk losing his composure. "Shizuka..."

"What?"

"Do—do you want to..." Watanuki gulps.

"Want to what?" Shizuka says, as gently as he can.

Watanuki turns red again and screws his eyes shut. "K-kiss," he stutters.

"Mm." Shizuka hums before making his response. "Well, only if you want to."

Watanuki feels—something—twist sharply inside of him. As if this had been something he needed to hear. "O-oh, really?" he says weakly.

"Yes."

"W-what if I don't know if I want to until a-after y-you..." Watanuki stares at Shizuka. The words just kind of seep away.

"I thought we kissed before."

"That was just a, an explanation. It doesn't count... I—I mean..." Watanuki blushes even hotter, but somehow keeps talking. "That time, I was so shocked, I couldn't feel..."

"My feelings?" Shizuka is surprised.

"Y-yeah," Watanuki chokes out, while his throat tries to stick itself together.

Shizuka says slowly, "It's not the same as words..."

Watanuki chuckles nervously. "No, it's not."

"Then...you want to? Now?"

It feels like his heart is beating so hard, it could break through his chest. "Yes," says Watanuki, swallowing his fears. "Now." Or he'd lose his nerve to ask...

Shizuka pushes Watanuki back a little, gets out of his chair, and kneels on the floor in front of Watanuki, who is still seated.

For an instant, Watanuki can't comprehend it: but then a sick feeling of horror dawns and tears began to flow down his face. Seeing him like that—lower than him—Watanuki's chest throbs, and in a desperate effort to quell it he throws himself out of the chair and wraps his arms around Shizuka with a dry sob rattling from panic.

Shizuka murmurs, "What is it?"

Watanuki's arms tighten around his neck. "You mustn't...you can never kneel to me..." his words are muffled. "I forbid it..."

Oh... thinks Shizuka, as realization sinks in, and his world changes and refocuses with greater clarity.

Shizuka rocks and holds Watanuki until he quiets. "Then I won't," he promises, and Watanuki eases back a little, to look at him. Searching for sincerity... Finally he seems to have found it. "Ready?" asks Shizuka, very softly.

Watanuki nods.

Shizuka's lips were soft, simply touching. He kissed lightly at first, then deeper, more firmly, until Watanuki opened his lips and Shizuka molded his mouth with his. It was sweet, but not hungry. Shizuka made the experience a gentle pleasure...and Watanuki kept following, and not pulling away, until a warmth grew in their bodies.

Finally they break apart, simply to breathe in gently while they still have air left.

After a moment, Watanuki leans back in.

"Again?" asks Shizuka.

He nods.

This time the kiss went deeper, quicker; ever so lightly, Watanuki kisses back, until Shizuka creates an opening, and thrust inside to explore—

With a gasp, Watanuki hits the floor, startling them both.

"Was that—bad?" asks Shizuka, leaning over Watanuki a little with hands flat on the floor for support, breathlessly.

"Uh," Watanuki mumbles confusedly. "No, no, I just...my body can't..."

Shizuka decides to give him some time to recover, and lies beside him to wait, but is soon distracted. He smooths down Watanuki's hair; Watanuki shivers and curls where Shizuka strokes him, however chastely and slowly—tracing the line of his jaw, down his neck, along his side, bumping against his collar...

"Shizuka, stop!" Watanuki gasps, and ineffectually tries to push him away; when that doesn't work, having failed to get some space, he rolls over. "I—I'll burn—" His face flushes.

Shizuka sighs, but kisses Watanuki's forehead first, pushes himself back, and sits up.

Watanuki tries to sit up, too, but promptly gets dizzy, which turns out to be the last straw. Feeling once again like a weak nineteen-year-old idiot, Watanuki bursts into tears. But unlike then, he doesn't protest when Shizuka carries him to bed and brings him some sugar water.

"What was it like?" asks Shizuka.

Watanuki's hand creeps out from under the sheets. Shizuka grasps his hand. "Like pure kindness," Watanuki whispers. "Shizuka, you taste like sun and kindness..."

Shizuka squeezes Watanuki's hand. "Please, let us grow old together."

"Yes," says Watanuki, closing his eyes, "A thousand times yes."

In looking through our desires, my heart was cut free, making a loop.

Inadvertently, I somehow move forward through this stagnant story;

No matter how long something is lost, I know the truth that is hidden.

Blooming in the town seen from the hilltop is the flower called "you,"

And I seek it again, in the color that is just like you.

—"A Flower Named You" by Asian Kung-Fu Generation [translated/re-arranged]

Author's Note:

I thought I was going to make Watanuki teach Kochoushu. Nope, not happening. (Yet.) Sheesh... Watanuki's specialty really is limited. Careful planning is more his style though, and also the style Kochoushu learns best by: careful study and lesson planning. Watanuki just learned as he went, and although it was successful in his case albeit dangerous, he is not inclined to subject his student to the whims of the world as Yuuko was.

I hope you learned a little more about who Kochoushu and Shizuka are in relation to their past-counterparts.

Oh. And, uh. Congrats to Watanuki and Shizuka! They have kissed—twice for real, once for explanation! Shizuka practically proposed! (Actually he did that ages and ages ago, sort of. He just repeated the offer.) I wasn't expecting this stage to go so quickly.

You're probably wondering why Watanuki's so weak. (Again.) That's because...all his senses are overly strong, and they tend to overwhelm him, especially when he feels under pressure. And he's especially sensitive to touch, even as he seeks it out, since he gets so little of it. So while Shizuka's attentions are very pleasant they are also extremely intense. Also! Condition compounded by high blood pressure / low-level morning blood sugar levels. Just because. :-P Watanuki needs to slowly build up stamina in a lot of areas. The fact that he can't keep up doesn't matter much to Shizuka though. He just wants to see Watanuki happy.