Disclaimer: I don't own xxxholic or x1999 or Basilsk, nor its characters. Those belong to CLAMP and Masaki Segawa respectfully. And…CLAMP is owned by CLAMP…it'll make sense..just read on…
Summary: Flying psychic ninjas??
Watanuki brought his hand instinctively to his nose. He wrinkled his brows and felt the slight tensing of muscles as the tingling grew so much it was almost painful. His eyes shut before the fateful moment.
-'Bless you and bless you!' Sorata intoned as a response to the two sneezes, lifting his ceramic cup of sake and draining it in one shot before slamming it back down with a satiated sigh and a smile. 'Ah…the sake's good tonight.'
Watanuki straightened up, relieved by the sneezes.
-'Thank you, Sorata-san,' he said with a small bow and a gentle smile, taking the cup away and fetching the sake bottle from the cabinet.
This time, instead of the small, white cylindrical sake cup, Watanuki put down a hand sized wooden box made of cypress, and filled it to bream with the clear liquor.
-'Using a masu eh! You are too kind!'
-'Its only natural Sorata-san, you are our most faithful customer.' This, to Watanuki's opinion, hinted painstakingly to a certain young woman who performed at the bar on some nights and the man's infatuation with her. Arashi Kishu was, after all, a very beautiful woman.
-'Not to mention that tonight is a special occasion, Yuuko-san will be doing that dance…' As he finished his sentence, Sorata took a sip of the liquor, his upbeat smile never fading.
Watanuki nodded in agreement, though he still felt a little confused by this special occasion.
His eyes swiped over the room, already filling up with rich business men and even a few women dressed in traditional kimonos. They were expensive kimonos too; Watanuki could tell from the way the textile moved with the person that it was silk and not the common cotton or synthetic fabrics he saw in second hand shops. The room was a sight with these elegant women and their colorful kimonos of pale blues and rosy pinks. Their designs of spring sceneries fit so well with the brocaded walls, it made the eye swoon.
Sakura trees in full bloom were painted on the walls and stage, their fluttering petals turning to swallow tail butterflies of deep blue and ochre gold as they floated off with an imaginary breeze. The leaden silver chandeliers that hung from the ceiling were ornate with bands of ribbons the same color as cherry tree petals, the lit candles bleeding pale wax into small, butterfly shaped dishes. The second source of light came from white paper lanterns lining the sides of the grand salon, nine to each wall, the designs alternating between fierce dragons and crescent moons.
He even caught a glance of himself in the reflection of a gold crested mirror, dressed up in British Victorian age clothes, all in black with a top hat and petit coat over his white, impeccable chemise. His dragon crested cane was resting against the stainless steal refrigerator to his left.
He sighed at this other Watanuki; Yuuko-san loved playing dress up with her favorite man servant.
-'Eh…but I wonder who is talking about Watanuki-kun…'
The young bartender was pulled out of his analytics by Sorata's teasing thoughtfulness. 'Ah! Is it a girl?'
Watanuki flailed his hands in denial, dropping the dish towel he had been holding with his spastic quirks.
-'No, no, no…Wait, what do you mean, Sorata-san?'
-'Well, usually when you sneeze and you're perfectly healthy, it means that someone is talking about you or mentioning your name,' the joyful young customer explained, but then darkened his expression. 'But, it would've been good if it had only been once. Since you sneezed twice in a row, it means that someone is talking bad behind your back…'
A knot formed in Watanuki's stomach as he bent to pick up the dish towel, unease chocking him.
-'Sorata-san…Don't say such things,' he commented wearily with a forced smile, though the bile in his chest was making it hard to even breathe. His light weight mood seemed to have darkened at the man's words and he couldn't understand why but, nothing good ever came of it.
Sorata was about to retort when a smooth voice filled the room, echoing against the walls and bringing silence to the audience. Watanuki recognized Yuuko's mystifying tone downing the ear to a slumberous spell that no one could help but fall into.
-'There are indefinite things in this World that remain unexplained. No matter how strange it is, Mankind will always observe it. It will always be so with Mankind. But it is the imagination…but it is the past…Person, Mankind, People. People are the World's strangest creatures.'
The room had darkened without his noticing it, the only light remaining was from the paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling above the stage, and beneath that light was Yuuko-san draped over an antique violet fainting couch adorned with thousands of silvery butterflies that seemed to flutter with the shifting of shadows. She took a long drag from her wooden Kiseru pipe, the end of it crested with gold engravings, and exhaled a long tendril of pale smoke, arching her neck towards the open sky, staring with blank, maroon eyes as faint instruments of a foreign origin begun to emanate strange lilting sounds from every corner of the room, enmeshing Watanuki's senses to the point where he momentarily forgot where he was, his eyes seemingly accepting the fact that a thin mist of incense smoke had risen from the wooden floor boards, filling the room with a soft scent of fresh pine needles and bouquets of lavender and peppermint.
Yuuko traced the hems of her ashen blue kimono, already falling at the shoulders and parting at the hip where her elongated legs crossed over each other, and placed a hand on the white fan stretched out along her side and opened it in one swift flick of her arm. It spread like the magnificent tail of an albino peacock, shielding her body as she stood up from the couch, her kimono falling in a heap of silk at her feet. He gaped in astounded shock as she begun to twirl and coil with grace, putting the tendrils of smoke to shame without ever revealing more skin than she intended to, bringing her pace to a nauseating swiftness as the music became more pronounced, the tempo ascending until it drowned all possible sense into chaos and abruptly halted as Yuuko's fan clattered to the ground with a flurry of a hundred monarch butterflies where the Witch had been standing mere seconds ago.
It took Watanuki a minute to come to his senses just as the crowd applauded, trepidations of excited whispers filling the now clear air as the butterflies fluttered out from the open roof, a few straying on the walls and rims of half drained glasses. He felt sapped and uplifted in the strangest of ways, still sunken in half a daze as he walked to the heavy oak doors and pushed them open for the people to start filling out.
-'A great performance as always….'; 'Nothing less from the great Yuuko…'; 'Even after all these years, she hasn't lost her grace or beauty…'; 'Yuuko…'; 'Yuuko…'
He shook his head and bowed as their customers exited the house, all submersed in their own whispered praises of Yuuko.
He felt light headed, as though the smoke had some how penetrated through his pores and filled up his lungs and head to a gentle bream, spilling out every time he tried to regain his senses. Questions begun to tug at his thoughts; how had Yuuko suddenly disappeared? As much as he twirled the question around in his mind, he couldn't recall the moment she had actually vanished.
-'True to her name; Yuuko the Sorceress of Men,' Sorata complimented.
Watanuki glanced up. When had he made it back to the bar? He glanced about the almost vacant room, momentarily confused. It only made Sorata laugh.
-'I see you were victimized by her talent,' he cheered, smiling fondly at Watanuki as the young bartender flicked a hand in annoyance and scolded, much to Sorata's amusement.
-'What? Nah! To me, she's still an egocentric drunkard. Too demanding and lazy…'
-'Too bad she only performs it once a year, for the First Day of Spring. A good time to release the butterflies as well I suppose, the weather has been good to us,' the customer sighed with content, shining light upon Watanuki's earlier skepticism for the fancy clothing and decorations.
-'That's right! Today is March 20th! So that's why…' he glared as he picked up Sorata's empty masu. 'That Witch could've warned me…'
-'First day of Spring…' Sorata repeated immersed in his thoughts as he stood up from his high chair and leaned against the bar table. 'It has been a while. How long have you been working here already?'
Watanuki shot him a surprised glance, his eyebrows raised then furrowed.
-'Since winter, so I would say three months, more or less.'
-'Anywhere near completely paying off Yuuko's vase?'
-'Not even,' the young boy replied, a dismissive sigh escaping his lips as he rounded the bar and started fetching glasses from the round tables in the salon. By now, the room was empty and quiet, their words echoing ominously over the armchairs and decrypt furniture.
Watanuki slithered between them, pilling glasses on his tray and reaching the stage to gather Yuuko's kimono; the thin fabric was like running water in his hand.
-'By the way, I got the information you asked me for the other day.'
Sorata joined Watanuki at the front of the room and pulled out a small square of paper from his pocket, straightening out its creases. 'The Senso-ji Buddhist temple, that's where you met Yuuko-san and the 'Jack of all trades' from the Shinto Shrine near there.'
-'Senso-ji…'
-'Yeah, the temple has a funny history too,' the young man continued, scratching the back of his neck in a fit of nervous laughter. 'They say that the Shrine, Asakusa, is there as worship grounds for three men who founded the Senso-ji Buddhist temple. But, my informants say it's a cover up story to hide a darker secret.' At those words, Sorata lowered his voice, though Watanuki was unsure if it was unintentional, or aimed at a more dramatic effect. He couldn't help leaning closer though, intrigued by this. 'See, the time the Temple was constructed coincides with the persecution of shinobi by the imperial forces who thought their ways were treacherous and dishonorable, especially in the face of the Samurai code of honor which forbade underhanded tactics and espionage…'
-'But, samurais were the ones who hired ninjas…why would they want to persecute them?'
-'It was a tactic for them to evade public shame. Even if they were all doing it, they still didn't have the face to admit it. Sometimes, they even put ninja clans against one another in feuds to resolve succession disputes amongst themselves. Like the Kouga Iga love story…'
Watanuki was thrown off by this sudden turn. 'The what…?'
-'It was a big blood feud between the Kouga Ninja clan and the Iga ninja clan! In the midst of all that hate spun the love between Gennosuke Kouga and Oboro Iga! It's epic, you've never heard of it?'
-'No…'
-'I must lend you the manga version then. Anyways, so, because of the persecution, most clans went into hiding within the mountains of Kyoto. They were also hunted for their religious beliefs in Buddhism. And that's where the Senso-ji temple comes into play. You see, the story goes that two brothers, fishermen, found a statue of boasatsu Kannon, the Bodhisattvas of Compassion, during one of their fishing trips in the river and were swoon into Buddhism by a rich man who found out about their discovery and they begun their construction on the temple.
People think that was too fast of a change and instead, rumors have somewhat spread, though their not taken seriously, that the two brothers were actually Buddhist rogue ninjas searching for a refuge and that a wealthy man provided them the alibi and money to build themselves a temple and hide their small clan within it.'
-'Oh...'
-'An even rarer rumor says that the man did it because it was of high importance for those two ninjas to not be captured and killed.'
Watanuki frowned. 'Why is that?'
-'Because it was said that they were expert Exorcists and that they possessed a bloodline trait that allowed them to see the other World…like a Second Sight.'
The knot returned with a vengeance to Watanuki's stomach, a leaden coil tightening around his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. Color drained from him, warmth vanishing beneath waves of cold stupor.
-'How…how did you find all this out…Sorata-san?' Watanuki asked, trying to distract himself.
-'Didn't I tell you? I was raised by the Shingon Buddhist at the Toji Temple in Kyoto. I asked them and they gave me the information and beyond,' Sorata proclaimed with a wide smile.
The young bartended regarded his informant with a weary eye, looking from his short cropped black hair to the mischievous glint in his brown eyes down to his stiff dark suit. He wasn't sure what prompted him the next query that fell from his trembling lips.
-'Arisugawa-san, why were you raised by Buddhist monks?' Was it possible that Sorata was like him, an orphan boy?
He seemed taken aback by the sudden use of his first name but answered none the less with a smile.
-'My parents died in an accident when I was a boy.'
-'I'm sorry…'
-'It's alright; it was a long time ago.'
-'I shouldn't have asked, I apologize…'
-'Don't,' Sorata cut in, his face glinting with warmth. 'It's not taboo. And, it doesn't hurt so much anymore. After all, my parents wouldn't have wanted for me to cease existing.'
Watanuki forced a smile, even if inside, he was still recoiling with despair. His parents wouldn't have wanted him to stop living either, but it was so hard sometimes, to keep going, especially because of his burden…
-'Oh, by the way, how come you needed to know the name of the temple, don't you remember where you met Yuuko-san?'
-'I forget things sometimes,' the boy replied curtly. There was more to it than that though. It wasn't just sometimes anymore, the amount of things he had been forgetting were pilling in number much to quickly for his liking. It scared him; it was as though he were gradually vanishing into oblivion.
Sorata glanced down at his watch and gave a start, rubbing his neck. It seemed to be a nervous tick of his Watanuki observed.
-'So late already! I have to go,' he said with an apologetic smile. 'It was great talking with you tonight Watanuki-san, let's see each other again!'
-'Yes, I look forward to it,' the boy said, watching him exit the house through the great oak doors.
Watanuki let out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding in. He made his way back to the bar in slow, careless steps, his mind lingering on their conversation.
Senso-ji Buddhist temple; mystical home of an evasive ninja clan, thinking on it now, it seemed absurd in a way…
-'Rumors will always be just that…silly rumors…' It wasn't possible, especially now a day, with all the media and technology, and with so many things being unraveled and analyzed, that an ancient group of Buddhist psychic ninjas could remain hidden in the shadows for this long.
Hot breath blew at the nape of his neck, throwing his spine into a fit of shivers.
-'Is that so, Watanuki-kun?'
He jumped into the air, beyond startled as Yuuko laughed, pointing in amusement at Watanuki's desperate attempts to keep the glasses from falling out of the tray.
-'Yuuko-san! You shouldn't sneak up on people unexpectedly!' he shouted in reprimand, fuming like a nervous bull as he stomped his way to the bar and deposited the tray with a sigh of relief.
-'But its fun…' she mused with an exaggerated pout, leaning against the bar, her long tendrils of black hair caressing the top of her bare feet.
Tonight, she had discarded any formal or semi-formal kimonos for a pair of shorts and silk chemise, shifting comfortably against her pale skin. 'Mokona,' she said in a conspicuous voice, caressing a small porcelain sculpture of a black creature at the right hand corner of the counter Watanuki hadn't been able, as of yet, to place in any sort of logical species. It looked like a mammal. 'Mokona, it's a perfect night for salted squid and sake, wouldn't you agree…'
-'You know, if you want me to cook, you can just ask me and stop speaking to that strange creature…' he grumbled, moving behind the counter to place the glasses in the dishwasher. That thing had always given him the creeps. It seemed to smirk at him sometimes when he moved at certain angles. It felt strange.
Yuuko clapped in overexcited glee, her smile getting so big her eyes shut. 'Then make us some stuffed sweet bell peppers as well, and Western pastries for dessert, strawberry tartlets with sweet plum wine!'
-'I am NOT a mail order cook! And why are you speaking in plural terms?!' he scolded, brandishing a dish towel in her direction. 'And strawberries aren't even in season yet!'
-'That's not true; strawberries don't have a season to grow.'
-'They're summer fruits because they need the sun to ripen!' he countered, outraged by her theatrical pout and matter-of-fact tone.
-'You're talking about 'June-bearing' strawberries; I'm speaking of 'Ever-bearing' strawberries.'
-'What kind of a faerie tale is that?!'
She straightened up with a devilish smirk, making her way to the upper landing of the house. He followed her movements, fuming in anger at her escape from the argument, ready to give a retort when he caught sight of something unusual from the corner of his eye. He fixed his gaze on a portrait of a young man above the doorway.
Unconsciously, he walked towards it, inexplicably drawn until he could make out the details of it. The man was draped in a haori and hakama pants, his head tilted to the outside of the picture with a glare and a smile, a Japanese bow resting at his feet.
-'This is new…' he breathed in half a daze.
Tendrils of smoke seemed to have lingered on its framing. Watanuki glared, suspicious at them.
He closed his left eye and saw that the smoke had vanished. He then opened his left and shut the right. His fears were confirmed, it wasn't an ordinary portrait.
-'It is, I found it in a drawer of mine,' Yuuko explained with a smile. 'He used to come to CLAMP years ago. Quite the charmer, that Haruka Doumeki, even with those stoic eyes of his.'
-'Was he a monk?'
-'Why do you ask?' Her tone had shifted once more from childish, to all knowing, deepening in decibels, the words spoken slowly as if each had an importance of its own to carry out.
-'Well, his clothes and the bow. Also, behind him…that looks like a temple…or a shrine…'
She gave a short laugh, though that too was shrouded in seriousness. 'Mmm…yes, Doumeki was a monk from the Senso-ji Buddhist temple East of Tokyo city. Remember? That's where we first met.'
He was about to retort that of course he hadn't forgotten, but held back his tongue, knowing that that in itself, would be an outright lie.
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Author's note: Long much? Hehe! I'm glad it is though, and hope you guys are too…
Mmm…by the way, Senso-ji is an actual Buddhist temple North East of Tokyo and it was founded by two fishermen brothers converted to Buddhism by a wealthy man but…that whole thing about flying psychic ninjas…I made that up…lol…
Oh..and yes…Watanuki can only see supernatural things with his left eye. It gets explained soon…parallel to his memory gaps…
And…CLAMP is the name of Yuuko's burlesque bar. Yup…
Thank you for reading and possibly reviewing, it always makes me happy to hear opinions!