Das Opfer, der Narr (The sacrifice, the fool)

Kimihiro sees unfamiliar faces. A stranger came up to him once and asked him how he is, what with his parents dying and everything. He doesn't know what to say. (He should know this person.) If he were to tell the truth he would say yes, he's fine because he hardly remembers them anyways. In once case he did say that and the person looked at him with concern. They gave an understanding smile and a pat on the shoulder. In reality they probably thought he was crazy. But if he said what he really felt (they wouldn't believe him) he'd say he couldn't remember what they were like at all. It scares him, how much he has adjusted to not remembering his father, his mother. He doesn't feel lost or scared as he did before. Instead, he feels calm and peaceful (because he is no longer alone.)

He stares at unfamiliar places. In the pictures, the albums, the hundreds of pictures... He knew there were people in them. His parents have disappeared from them, their absence unnatural as though some humongous hand simply swept through the pictures, pulling his parents out of each. He looked through the albums once but it unnerved him. Some of the pictures have simply scenery, these ones he knows were only of them. His mother, on a swing, surrounded by wisterias... His father fishing... But in the pictures the wisterias are in full bloom around an abandoned swing that swishes dejectedly back and forth. In the pictures, a fishing pole and a trout lay in a heap on the pier, abandoned as though the people in the pictures were simply swiped off the face of the earth. In another, people are gathered around a cake that says "congratulations on your graduation," the candles have just been blown out and a relative smiles and hugs thin air. It unnerves him and he buries them in the back of his closet. For no matter how eerie it is he can't bring himself to throw them away.

What does he remember?

He remembers the actions, the caring, the emotions. The reassuring hand on his back, encouraging him to go with friends, the pats on the head for a job well done. A lilting voice, strong hands guiding his, the scent of lemons and lavender in the laundry. Their connected hands, fingers intertwined with the son they cared for. He remembers tears, of joy, of happiness, of sadness and grief. The smiles. (It is enough for him.)

He remembers every single food he has made. Tamagoyaki, inari sushi, hotakashi soba, sooki soba, sata andagi… the list goes on. He remembers the people he has met since he entered the shop. Zashiki-warashi, Ame-warashi, Himawari, Mugetsu, Tanpopo, Yuuko, Makona, Maru and Moro…Doume—no… Shizuka. (They are what now defines him.)

He has learned. He has learned to be able to ask for help, he has learned that he does not only belong to himself, he has learned to let people care for him, he has learned to care. These things are Kimihiro's reality. (A reassuring dream...)

But that is everything since he has entered the shop. (Is that time real?)

-- What is real? --

(Don't disappear.)

But this time he'll work up enough courage to respond. "I won't."

--

A/N: Last chapter, hope it doesn't disappoint. (And for those that were confused with the last fic, Watanuki's debt for his wish has already been paid but because he's around Yuuko so much the over all debt increases (because she helps him) but she does it so that he has to stay. Sorry for the confusion.)

+Andy

Afterword: Special thanks to those who commented: Midnight Mistique, Eriik's Lonely Angel, AnimeSoul17, Masuda-san, Lost Again(anon.) and finally Susan009(anon.). You guys are the ones who gave me the courage to keep writing. I hope you enjoyed it.