| Chapter 14 |

An eye opens. Sunshine pooling by the window, still yet early in the morning, for the expanded room is much brighter than Watanuki is used to. The eye shuts. Watanuki molds himself closer to Shizuka and drags the blanket around to block out the light. Shizuka adjusts and resettles, grunting softly in his sleep. Watanuki fades.

Steam is clouding up Watanuki's lenses as he cooks. He whips them off and wipes them on his shirt, glancing at Shizuka in the interim. He looks dangerously close to nodding off. Eyes closed and head slightly bowed, Shizuka is sitting hunched in a chair with his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, dressed only in his boxers and, curiously, his white cotton socks.

Watanuki turns back around and pushes his glasses back up his nose, blinking. No need to hurry...

Breakfast is quiet. Watanuki clears up the plates as usual and takes them to the sink. Getting ready to wash the dishes, Watanuki plucks a towel from a drawer and hangs it over a hook on the wall, squirts some soap into a crumbling yellow sponge, and cranks up the hot water. All at once he becomes aware that Shizuka has followed him, and is hovering behind his right shoulder. Watanuki turns his head to the right to protest, and Shizuka zips around to his left and doesn't budge, though he's right in the middle of the washing up process.

Watanuki looks at him and silently calculates how much effort and indignity it would take to shove him out of the way.

Shizuka looks back at him, equally stubborn.

...The answer is 'far too much' and even Watanuki has to admit that he probably won't succeed.

Shizuka sticks out his hand. Watanuki puts a plate in it. Fine.

He's not quite sure how he let this happen. He ought to be the one doing things, taking care of Shizuka, but that's not quite how it turned out.

Soap washing down his back, and water raining painfully hard about the ears, it drips down his chin. Watanuki squints. Shizuka pulls the water back, and the spray becomes gentle again. "Sorry," says Shizuka, hanging up the nozzle. He touches Watanuki's head gingerly, as if expecting him to flinch, but Watanuki closes his eyes and leans into the pressure as Shizuka's fingers slowly work shampoo into his scalp once more, and even wash behind his ears. The soap drips past his eyes, soft and clean and gentle. It's not so bad, being taken care of. It is quite nice after all...

He opens his eyes again, ignoring the sting, and narrows his eyes at the bathroom tiles. There's a memory, or several, that he can't access, of soap and water and something...so long ago, when he was a child, when he was half as tall and . . . much bigger hands . . . and someone. . . fleeting—

It's gone.

Watanuki presses his hands into his eyes, suppressing a deep sigh. Doumeki picks up the bucket at his feet, and offers it to him. Watanuki takes it, takes a deep breath, and dumps it over his head in a rush.

Shizuka gets into the bath first, Watanuki after; the steaming water rises to the brim of the tub and only just doesn't spill over. Shizuka beckons, and Watanuki moves over to his side of the tub, where Shizuka wraps an arm around him. Watanuki rests, contemplating only the warmth and the ripples of water. The soreness left over from the day before goes away for a little while.

Watanuki pulls on the yukata hanging on the door, rummages in the closet for the spare and throws it to Shizuka, who catches it deftly. Watanuki marches down the hall back to their room, and throws open the wardrobe. He looks at them for a while. Shizuka enters the room behind him and quickly dresses in his clothes from the night before.

"Found anything?" Shizuka asks, drifting closer. It surprises him that Watanuki would have trouble choosing how to dress.

Watanuki shakes his head. "Nothing's suitable..." Suddenly he reaches deep into the closet, and pulls out a hanger. It's his school uniform, coat and blazer. It looks pitifully small beside him now. Shizuka scrutinizes it, and shakes his head.

Watanuki hangs it up again, sighing.

"What are you looking for?"

"Something I can go outside in. Something normal." Watanuki pauses, pensive. "I know, I know I could wear something from all this, but—" Watanuki waves a hand at the clothes packed inside the wardrobe, and shrugs helplessly. "It would get wrinkled. And I'm going to visit your family." Watanuki puts the tips of his fingers together anxiously. There's a lot that goes unsaid...

Shizuka gets it. "You want anonymity."

"I think it would be best," Watanuki says, thinking regretfully of the history, and wondering if the ones who remember it still live. Probably. "I do not want to become the Shopkeeper to them. I'm just...I should just be a person." If that is even possible.

Shizuka says, "I understand," and lightly kisses his cheek. Shocked, Watanuki rubs the spot, wordlessly affected and feeling somewhat at a loss.

Shizuka crosses the room and takes out his cell phone. A moment later he had dialed Kanako, and asked her to meet them in the city for a shopping expedition. Judging by the sounds emanating from the cheap and tinny speaker on Shizuka's phone, Kanako seems excited.

Watanuki rummages in the closet again and finally remembers the suit Shizuka bought him for the hanami company picnic, and puts it on. Shizuka drifts over to tug on his shirt and helps him tuck it in.

Doumeki and Watanuki fill Kanako in on the purpose of their errand with a little more detail, building Watanuki's cover story at the same time. Watanuki has just been released from the hospital for what is hopefully his last time, and he's looking to rebuild his wardrobe since his life went on hold about five years ago. Not knowing much about current trends, he wanted some help picking a style to start with.

Kanako couldn't be happier. Once informed of the exact nature of her mission, she pulls out all the stops, rifling through coupons and online deals like nobody's business. She quizzes them on taste and drives them mercilessly from store to store. With her, the shopping goes quickly, and Watanuki begins to accumulate a steady pile of young hipster clothing.

Kanako and Shizuka are satisfied when Watanuki can vaguely pass for a college student. By that point Watanuki is also ready to quit, fairly sure the things he has found will fit the image of Shizuka's family will expect: a young professional, comfortable, current, somewhat introverted, not at all out of the ordinary. Shizuka worries Watanuki won't stand out, but he keeps his concerns to himself.

Near the end of their trip, Watanuki cocks his head as if listening, then ducks into a tiny folklore shop and tells Kanako and Shizuka to wait for him outside. Somewhat puzzled, they do, and Watanuki comes back soon with an unobtrusive bag and a satisfied and somewhat smug expression on his face.

"Something about a wish?" Shizuka asks him in a low voice.

Watanuki glances at him, and then his eyes slide smoothly away from Shizuka's. "Yes, in a manner of speaking," he says. "Not a new one, the shop's owner was an old customer...and it was about time I checked in on him, or he checked on me, actually, it didn't much matter." He lifts the bag, clearly more pleased with the outcome than the details of the transaction, and chuckles to himself. He won't show Shizuka what the contents actually are, however, and when Shizuka brings himself to ask out loud, he only laughs and returns to being secretive, though he promises, "You'll see."

Kanako leaves just before they purchase Watanuki's suitcase. They bring it back to Shizuka's place and Watanuki dumps all of his shopping bags into it, tags and all, and crams the case closed—there isn't time to wash the clothes first, as they had hoped—and have a hasty dinner. Then Shizuka and Watanuki, quite exhausted, stumble onto an overnight bus that evening, heading south for warmer climes.

"How does it feel going home?" Watanuki asks the question casually. "I mean, back to family?"

With great difficulty Shizuka lifts his eyelids to peer at him, and shifts his bulk so it isn't sprawling over the lowered seat quite so much. "I don't know..." His muscles ache, so he stretches to work them out, and then sits up and looks at Watanuki properly.

Watanuki is perched on his seat, leaning on the window, watching the sunrise flicker bright and golden over the tops of trees and the mountains; it is around five o'clock in the morning. "Surely you think more than that," he says quietly.

Shizuka doesn't answer.

"How long has it been, then?"

"Two, three years."

"I see."

It had been long enough. Shizuka hadn't really expected to get away from them longer than that.

"You just don't seem..." Watanuki trails off.

Shizuka shrugs.

Watanuki peers at him. "What will we do when we get there?"

"Get lost, probably," Shizuka says in a low, resigned monotone. "I would prefer that."

Watanuki blinks.

"Or we can visit my mother, if you want," Shizuka offers, shifting restlessly. "That wouldn't be a bad thing."

"Sounds like a good idea," Watanuki says cautiously. "Then you can show me around the ryokan?"

Shizuka laughs shortly and says, "That I can do. I suppose that could prove interesting..."

Avoiding people for the sake of the activity itself was probably pretty boring, Watanuki surmises. Maybe even a little too easy. He turns his attention back to the window.

"Aren't you going to lecture me about family values or something?" Shizuka mutters.

"No. I wouldn't do that." Watanuki tucks a fist under his chin. "It's just the way things are. It would be poor taste to criticize your family relations when I have none of my own. I don't know how it is for you."

"But you're looking forward to this."

"Oh, yes," says Watanuki, without turning around. "I'll relish it. I've been wanting a good chat with the Doumekis for decades. I don't suppose Doumeki's death endeared me to them, though. Still..." he lapses into silence.

Shizuka checks his watch. One more hour to go.

"Looks like we've arrived."

Watanuki turns his head to look outside the window again. "It's pretty early still..." They're pulling into the parking lot of some grounds. There's a tall wooden fence on the other side, and a gate; beyond that is the path to the main building of the ryokan.

"Yeah."

"Someone you know?" Watanuki points to the shadowy figure waiting by the gate.

"At this hour? It couldn't be." But just in case, Shizuka cranes his neck over Watanuki's shoulder, who tries to crouch down. The bus slows to a stop.

It's his mother.

"How did you know?" Shizuka rounds on him.

Watanuki laughs evasively. "Oh, she's walking toward us..."

"We'd better get out," Shizuka mutters, and grabs his bags, ducking his head.

Watanuki raises an eyebrow, collects his stowed belongings, and hastily follows Shizuka, who is already clattering down the walkway in haste to the front. Shizuka quickly handles his last transaction to the driver—Watanuki bows and says the necessary niceties—and they disembark. Shizuka's mother runs forward immediately to set upon her son. Watanuki snickers and attends to the luggage underneath the bus once the bus driver has opened the storage for him, keeping an eye on them from the corner of his eye.

"Shizuka! Stop right there! Let me see you."

"Yes, Mother..." Shizuka almost rolls his eyes, but he allows the embrace, and even returns the hug just a little at the end.

"You're here." His mother steps back and clasps her hands together.

"And you're early," Shizuka mutters out of the corner of his mouth.

His mother tsks. "I asked for your arrival time. What did you think I was going to do with the answer? If I hadn't come, you would disappear and I would surely lose track of you," she scolds. "I know how you think!" At this, Shizuka rolls his eyes, a gesture she ignores, only too happy to foil Shizuka's plans for quiet disappearance. "Did you bring anyone? I could have sworn you wrote—" Leaning to see past Shizuka's height, she spots Watanuki. "Ah! Shizuka! You haven't introduced us!"

Having extracted their luggage, Watanuki steps back and straightens; the driver slams down the storage doors, bows perfunctorily, and climbs back into the bus. Shizuka's mother marches forward, towing Shizuka after her, who is beginning to look ever so slightly abashed under the intense spotlight of her attention. "I am Doumeki Noriko. Nice to meet you." She nudges Shizuka. "Shizuka, please..."

"This is my friend, Watanuki Kimihiro," Shizuka supplies, doing his best not to say it stiffly.

"Thank you. It is good to meet a friend of Shizuka's at last. What would you like to be called?" Noriko asks eagerly.

"Watanuki is fine," says Watanuki, smiling. "It is my pleasure to meet you, Noriko-san."

Noriko is charmed.

Shizuka's mother shows them to their rooms, where they dump their luggage, and then leads them to her own suite. Shizuka's father is absent, but he should be back soon with the newspaper, she says, as he's always been an early riser. She pours them both a cup of tea and fetches some snacks, and they sit down. She asks them about their journey, and so on, and about Watanuki's background (Watanuki admits he has none to speak of, besides dropping out and the hospital, though his hobbies might be of some use in finding a job), and Noriko moves on to inquire about Shizuka's job, which Shizuka does his best to answer her questions as succinctly and quickly as possible so she can move on to some other topic.

The first awkward moment is when Noriko asks when they met, and Watanuki looks to Shizuka to answer. After a long pause, which does not go unnoticed by Noriko, Shizuka tries to flesh out the "hospital" response they cooked up at the company picnic and refined while talking to Kanako. It does not go over as smoothly as they hoped.

"Oh, but Shizuka," Noriko says in puzzlement, "If you had such a friend in high school, why didn't you tell me?"

Shizuka shrugs. "You were busy. I went to visit him after class, you see, and it was only every so often. It wasn't like he could celebrate birthday parties like everyone else..."

Watanuki is about to say something about not remembering birthdays and therefore it being pointless, which while somewhat truthful would really have been a terrible explanation, but Noriko beats him to speech. "That's not the point. I could have helped with—with snacks and things." She continues to look puzzled. "Is that why you came home so late after archery?"

Shizuka shrugs again.

Noriko peers at his face, small creases edging between her brows. "Hm. If you say so." She sits back. "Did your father know of this?"

Quite despite himself, Shizuka is shocked enough by the question that he tenses.

So his father doesn't know. A funny expression passes over her face. "I see." She tilts her head. "Hunh."

"Why do you ask?" Shizuka says cautiously.

"There were things that you talked about with him that you didn't mention with me, as a boy. I heard some things," Noriko says vaguely. "From your aunts. They were very..." she waves a hand, concluding the movement with a quick downward slant, for negativity. "So I thought maybe it might have something to do with the beliefs of his family, if you hid it from him. You know, I get along with my mother-in-law and the rest well enough, but I still hate to be alone at these things." She reaches forward and clasps Shizuka's hand, just for a moment, and lets go. "Thank you for coming, Shizuka. I know it's hard..."

Shizuka tilts his head a little bit, and nods without speaking.

"Did you feel like you had something to hide from us?" Noriko asks. Tears prickle her eyes.

Shizuka looks away. "Yes."

"Shizuka," she says, mouth dry. "Have I..." she presses her hands to the table and briefly rises to her feet, and sinks down again. "Did I ever make you feel like you couldn't talk to me about..." she trails off, looking pale and stricken, and she darts a swift and distressed glance at Watanuki. "...about..."

"No," Shizuka rushes to lean forward to reassure her. "No, surely not. You never gave me a reason to fear."

"Then why...?" Eyes filling with tears, Noriko whispers, "I didn't think you had friends, let alone..." She looks at Watanuki again.

"Someone important," Watanuki supplies for her, with a soft laugh.

She nods, then, and tries to smile. "Yes. It is true?"

Watanuki nods. "Just recently."

"Do you love each other?"

"Yes," says Watanuki.

She wipes her eyes, laughing in that way that also sounds like a sob, and bends forward, pressing her chin into her hands. "Shizuka?" She barely squeezes out his name.

There's a long silence while they watch Shizuka ponder over how to put words to his answer, and Noriko's hands slowly fall from her face when she sees he is about to answer. "I didn't think," Shizuka takes a deep breath, "I don't think I knew how to explain things back then. He was my secret. And, well, if you knew that I liked him and that he was dying...or that we thought he was dying..." Shizuka shrugged, painfully, hugging his shoulders, and his expression was unhappy. "It wasn't normal. It wasn't happy. Maybe you would have been supportive of us at first— But when you realized what that meant— You would have tried to distance us for my own good. At least, at the time, I thought so. And I didn't want to lose the time that I had." A note of bitterness creeps into his voice. "I was afraid...but actually, I was ashamed."

Noriko dips her head, presses her lips into one thin line, and thinks about that. The seconds tick. Shizuka and Watanuki wait.

Finally she lifts her head. "I think I understand."

"Mother," says Shizuka, leaning forward. He inches one hand forward across the table.

She sighs and takes his hand. "Thank you. I understand it now." She grips his fingers. "Thank you. Thank you for coming."

Shizuka swallows, and Noriko squeezes just once, and releases him.

"This...this love," Noriko says slowly, "it's not new, is it?" She looks at Shizuka.

"Sort of," Shizuka mumbles, and turns his head to Watanuki, seeking help. "I mean, I always... But we only..."

"It was new to me. We only started dating once I got my notice that I was in remission, and could leave the hospital," Watanuki quickly explains, with a smile. "So, less than a year, officially."

A few seconds later, they hear the key in the lock. The door opens smoothly, and Noriko jumps. "You boys just relax—your father must be home," she says, and she takes the kettle to the stove and makes herself look busy.

The face is, of course, all too familiar-but-different to Watanuki, although the face's owner's hair is graying, his cheeks are slimming, his eyes are stamped by crows feet, and he wears frameless rectangular glasses: but all in all, he doesn't appear that old. Doumeki never did. The man is dressed all in black and dark purple and green, and his manner is quite unruffled. "Morning..." Shizuka's father nods to them, gesturing with the newspaper in his hand, and takes a seat at the table opposite them without giving any hint that he finds their presence out of the ordinary. Noriko places a cup of tea by his right hand, and steps around him.

Watanuki whispers to her, "Doumeki-san's first name is...?"

"It's Ranka," she whispers back. "You can use it if you wish. He won't mind. No doubt you knew Shizuka by that name first."

Watanuki nods and nudges Shizuka. "Do you think it's time to go?" he whispers to him, but he has spoken too soon, and maybe too loudly. He only hopes Ranka didn't hear him. The tips of his ears flush. Ranka calmly unfolds the paper and lays it on the table.

"You seem familiar," Ranka says to Watanuki, eying him over the tops of his glasses. He squints just a little, and then his face relaxes into a cool, reserved smile.

"Ah..." Watanuki bites his lip and waits with bated breath.

Ranka looks at him wryly. "It must be my memory playing tricks on me, but I could have sworn I saw a picture of someone who looked a little like you in one of the family albums, I can't remember which. But the resemblance is uncanny. Of course, you can't be him," he says casually.

Watanuki crosses his fingers. "I see."

"Just a warning. You never know who else might have seen it. They may remark on it." Ranka inclines his head. "But I am sure you only have to explain who you are, and it will all clear up. I trust you can take care of yourself."

That's enough— The hair stands up on the back of Watanuki's neck. Shizuka's father isn't guessing. Ranka knows who he is. "Of course," he says, mouth dry. "Thank you, Ranka-san."

"Father," Shizuka says, voice low.

"You know how it is, Shizuka." Ranka looks at him mildly. "Regardless of what I think." Surprised by his tone, Noriko turns around , her eyes flicking between her husband and her son.

Shizuka's heart pounds. "We haven't talked."

"No. We haven't." Ranka fixes an inscrutable, razor gaze on Shizuka, and it's almost worse than outright disappointment. "You've been scarce of late. I suspect you have just straightened things out with your mother, and I expect you should also come by and speak with me before the festivities get too busy." Ranka picks up the newspaper again, and spreads it. Discussion is over. Noriko presses her lips together, looking uncertain and worried.

"I'll come by at lunch," Shizuka murmurs, and stands up, and Watanuki stands with him. Time to go? Shizuka nods, and they push back their chairs and head for the door.

Noriko turns around, distressed. "Oh, dear, is it a Doumeki matter after all? I thought...but... Do you really have to go now?"

"It's hard to explain, but I'm afraid so, mother; we're a little overtired, and it would be good to rest. I'll be back later," Shizuka says softly.

Noriko turns to Watanuki, eager to say her piece before he can get out the door, and says a little desperately, "Please, I'd like you to know that you're welcome to stop by anytime. Do come back."

"I sincerely appreciate the offer," Watanuki replies, polite as ever. "Perhaps if I have time, when you're not busy."

"Of course." She smiles quickly in relief. Shizuka and Watanuki exit, and shut the door.

"That was...intense," Watanuki says, after a while. Shizuka nods mutely, looking rather stunned. "Are they going to talk? Your parents?"

"Maybe." Shizuka shivers and shakes his head. "I don't know. Sometimes, they don't talk together about certain Doumeki things...like she was saying, the family business, the gossip—it upsets mother."

"Why is that?" asks Watanuki, impatient, but fascinated.

"I don't know. She grew up in a smaller, much more tight-knit family. She says the infighting in ours can get to be a little much and it's not worth keeping track of. That we're all posturing because there are real positions and heritages at stake, so the family itself becomes too political when there are so many people with the same ambitions." Shizuka lowers his gaze to the ground. "She says we're competitive, and that's only the parts she knows about, so I don't think she's wrong. In this case...I don't know. She might change her mind and ask. I don't know if my father feels like he needs to tell her or not, yet."

I wonder what changed, Watanuki wonders. From what little Shizuka spoke of his family, he didn't think the family was like that then. And certainly not in Haruka's time. Oh, if only they could get back to private space right away, so they wouldn't have to worry about who is watching... "Sounds like human nature," Watanuki says at last.

"Yes." Shizuka looks tired. "Shall we retire? I think I will have lunch alone with my father today, if that is permissible, but I would like to rest first."

"Of course you must." Watanuki pushes himself off the wall, and follows Shizuka down the hall to their pair of connected rooms, whose numbers he really must remember—322 and 321. "Shall we unlock the middle door? And the mattresses?" He seems to be in a hurry, for some reason.

"Might as well bring them over," Shizuka reasons.

"Right." They pull the futons out of the closet.

"Over here, out of the sunlight? And close the blinds." Watanuki pulls top futons off of the other to flop onto the side. Shizuka draws the fanlike, heavy curtains, the light illuminating him briefly in profile. It works. When he has drawn them all the way across the window, most of the bright sunlight is thoroughly blocked out to Watanuki's approval.

"Okay. Close the door?" Watanuki takes off his glasses and puts them on a desk. Shizuka closes the door, and Watanuki crosses the room and puts a hand up to his cheek. For a while they just stand there like that, Shizuka's eyes closed and leaning into his touch, Watanuki nearly motionless, until at last he reaches his other hand to Shizuka's shoulder. Watanuki tilts his head and Shizuka meets his leisurely kiss, and as Shizuka puts one hand on his back and another at his waist Watanuki's hand slips from his chick down to the back of his neck, and they kiss harder, their bodies coming closer and closer, until a somber pine-green slow-burning fire is burning in their bodies. They sway. Shizuka pushes Watanuki down to the mattress, and positions himself on top of him. Watanuki shifts to get comfortable, and his hands grip Shizuka's shoulders, too tightly, until the knuckles turn white. They bite.

Shizuka has never seen Watanuki get this physical before, this fierce. Something seems off. He's in an odd mood... Shizuka leans forward for another kiss, but again, something doesn't seem right, as this time he meets resistance. "What's wrong?" Shizuka pulls back and lowers himself a little, and the pressure eases.

Watanuki sinks into the mattress and lets his hands loosen and fall, and he crosses them loosely over his stomach, Watanuki lying there limp, as if he's suddenly been drained of energy. "You lied for me. To your own parents," he says tonelessly.

Shizuka nods, his eyes not leaving Watanuki's.

"I don't understand." Watanuki blinks. "How you did it for years."

"Kimihiro." Leaning on one arm, Shizuka brushes the unkempt hair from Watanuki's forehead, and caresses his cheek.

"What?" Watanuki looks shocked, like he's been suddenly doused with cold water, as if hearing his name this way was not unpleasant, but—frightening?

"I didn't lie. I omitted." Shizuka strokes his face. "What I said back there was true. You were my secret and I fell in love with you far before I was ready. I was ashamed but I couldn't give you up. You weren't dying, you were living forever, but it came to the same thing—you were unreachable. You know that. You know how it looks, and right now that's what my father sees. You know how unfair it is, because as soon as you realized, you were already acting to protect me from you." Trying to maintain his balance on his forearms, Shizuka sweeps a hand across the futon.

"You had no friends." Watanuki's voice cracks.

Shizuka rolls onto one arm to face him. "But I had you."

"I don't count." Watanuki wipes his face roughly.

"Before we were lovers, we were most definitely friends," Shizuka corrects him. "You can't count and not count. Besides...I had a few in college, and elementary school. Middle and high were a little rough, that's all."

Watanuki sighs, turning his face to rest on the mattress. "I just didn't realize...that you sacrificed so much for me and I didn't realize. Again."

"Not talking about you actually saved me a lot of strife," Shizuka points out dryly. "The more truth I gave, the more questions my parents would have, and the more they would want to check my story. By leaving you out, I evaded all of that. And I kept my parents' trust, which kept my movements free. That conversation was difficult and some trust is gone now, of course, but it's probably nothing that can't be regained. I am a fully self-sufficient adult now, so they can't tell me what to do." Shizuka lies down again. "Hardly a sacrifice on my part."

Watanuki groans and covers his eyes. "Stop ruining my illusions!"

"Then stop wallowing in self-pity," Shizuka says sharply. "You're not responsible for our decisions."

"I know." Watanuki hunches slightly and rolls onto his side, and removes his hands from his eyes, slowly, staring into his palms.

"Is it that you hated lying for me?" Shizuka asks, after a minute. "You did really well at it, today."

Watanuki shakes his head quickly.

"Good." Shizuka's breath tickles Watanuki's ear, so he shivers.

"I was just stupidly upset, because I didn't know they knew so little, though I suppose I shouldn't have assumed..."

"I'm sorry. You're right, I should have said something." Shizuka gently squeezes his shoulder. "You hide your emotions almost too well sometimes. Maybe you don't even realize you're doing it."

"Sorry...I didn't mean to..." He hadn't known it was happening like that, but now that he thought about it, usually Watanuki was a little too good at broadcasting his feelings. But lately... Shizuka has a realizes that right now, in this place, Watanuki hasn't felt this closed off to his own emotions...since Doumeki died, and the rate at which they have been changing is giving himself whiplash; and he can't remember exactly when the compartmentalization began. Was it when he left the house? Or even before he decided to fix the wards? Why here? Why now? Can't he be calmer than this? What's wrong with him...? But the questions only seem to unhinge the doors, unlock the boxes Watanuki had been ignoring for quite some time now. Tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. Watanuki rolls again, bringing his hands to the sides of Shizuka's face this time, as he tries to smile shakily. "It's just everything...this place..."

"Welcome to the real world," Shizuka smiles softly back at him. "Kimihiro."

Such a wave of undefinable emotion passes through him that Watanuki shudders. "Shizuka. I'm here." It sounds like a confession. Watanuki's hand grasps uselessly at Shizuka's arm, with barely the strength to catch on his sleeve.

"I know." Shizuka kisses his forehead.

Watanuki wraps his arms around him and clutches him tightly. "I'm here!" he says, and bursts into tears.

Shizuka tucks him under his chin and holds him just as tightly. "Kimihiro, yes. I know," he whispers, "Yes, I know," over and over, while Watanuki stifles the ache in his voice by crying into his chest, and Shizuka listens. Even the bitter tears don't douse the faint flicker of happiness for Watanuki, and that is precisely what makes this time so painful, accustomed as he is to the drone of winter and the slow decay, the dissipating smoke of the wishing shop, always one ponderous thought and one feeling at a time, where there are no accidents and where nothing ever changes and secrets are safely kept in trust, waiting to become inert. His time there was a dream, and life is far more messy. Shizuka knows what this weeping is. It is the pain felt at the beginning of all new things.

/ If I told you things I did before, told you how I used to be,

would you go along with someone like me?

If you knew my story word for word, had all of my history,

would you go along with someone like me? /

/ Usually when things have gone this far, people tend to disappear.

No one will surprise me unless you do.

I can tell there's something goin' on, for hours seems to disappear;

everyone is leaving, and I'm still with you... /

/ And we don't care about the young folks talking 'bout the young style.

And we don't care about the old folks, talkin' about the old style too.

And we don't care about our own faults, we're talking 'bout our own style.

All we care about is talking: talking only me and you... /

—"Young Folks," by Peter Bjorn and John [remixed]

Author's Notes:

Shizuka's mother's name, Noriko (意子) means "feeling/thought-child." I think Noriko is a common, rather plain name.

Shizuka's father's name is Ranka (乱花), which usually means "orchid"-something but with these kanji the first syllable means revolt/rebellion/war and the second is flower. This particular spelling is unisex.

This turned out to be kind of a "rest" chapter, apologies if it makes you sleepy. The characters are recuperating. Story still loading, promise. On the plus side, after reading about people going to sleep rather a lot, maybe you'll get a dream or two next chapter... :D

I think it was time for a good cry. It's hard, doing new things and being exhausted and extra-stimulated, and confronting the past at the same time on top of that.