Tantalizing the Senses
Chapter 4 – Touch

AN: And I'm finally allowed to upload something! Apologies for this being quite a few days late – at least this one is a slightly different approach from the other three senses.

As always, I follow the manga as it is being released in Japan, so there will be mild spoilers – nothing overt – for up to around chapter 120.

xxxHoLiC belongs to the brilliance that is CLAMP.

..touch..

It was dark, and he was drowning… drowning… and it was cold, liquid ice wrapped around him like a lover, unyielding and impossible to ignore.

The sudden shock of the cold water had knocked the breath from his lungs, and when he opened his mouth all he tasted was water, rushing past his teeth and caressing his tongue, smooth and fluid and always cold. The liquid rapidly soaked his shoes and heavy coat, the dead weight pulling him down further into its dark embrace, inexorable as the tide. Numbly, he reached one hand towards the surface, trying to break the barrier between water and air – was he upright, or upside down? Left, right? Weightless, dimensionless – but grasped nothing.

He tried to shed his coat, instinct spurring him from one action to another, but could barely feel the woolen material under his fingers, the hard, smooth curves of the buttons slipping away from his fingers until all he could feel was smooth silken liquid.

Strange, how everything turned soft and flowing underwater, brittleness and edge washed away.

Well, fuck, he swore fleetingly, words that rarely passed his lips now flowing smoothly in his mind. Manners didn't really matter when one was dying. I've been working for Yuuko-san all this while, dealing with her incessant demands only to go down like this

It was a sign of how much lucidity he was losing when his final thought was not sorrow at never hearing Himawari-chan's gentle voice again, or mild contentment that he was finally going to see his parents, but –

Yuuko-san, you never did grant my Wish.

It wasn't fair. He wasn't even allowed to fight his own death. Although he had hovered on death's doorstep on many occasions since entering Yuuko's employment, he had always gone down fighting, doing something that was worthwhile.

But this… this was a silent killing, the frigid water a dark siren's song, clouding his sensibilities until all he could summon was a dull, muted regret, limbs no longer responding to his mind's sluggish commands.

So it's my turn to do the haunting...?

Soft waves fluctuated against his skin, and Watanuki wondered for a fleeting moment if his spirit was being pulled from his body when something solid and palpable suddenly clamped around his outreached hands, the sensation so different from the formless cold around him that his eyes snapped opened. Panic promptly swept over him, but his movements were weak, and he felt his body being pulled upwards like a limp rag doll.

Breaking back into air was like walking under sunshine after prolonged confinement indoors – suddenly everything was there in overwhelmingly loud detail, and Watanuki was gulping in air and water in equal amounts in instinctive haste, vision dazed and incoherent. The only things that kept him from drowning himself with his own actions were the hands gripping on his shoulders.

He must have blacked out for a long moment, not that it was much different from the watery dark he had been trapped in moments ago. He registered a tight pain across his chest and fleeting warmth upon his lips before he lurched sideways and threw up all the water he had swallowed. He couldn't see anything, could hear nothing above the sound of his choking. The cold was still there, clinging to him incessantly except there was a hand against the small of his back, its presence burning even through Watanuki's wet clothing. Something thick – woolen and furry – was being wrapped around him, and fingers, wet but so alive danced lightly around his face, pushing wet bangs out of the way as Watanuki gasped for breath.

He still couldn't sense much, his arms moving kitten-like and helpless, but Watanuki managed to throw one hand up high enough to grip his rescuer's shirt, fingers tightening thickly into the soaked material and pulling himself upwards.

There was only one person who always managed to turn up at the most opportune moments, and that was…

"Doumeki," Watanuki whispered hoarsely.

He opened his eyes and caught a glance of the other's stoic, quiet face and wasn't sure if he should be amazed or wary at how he simply knew it was Doumeki.

Watanuki allowed his eyes to flutter shut, already feeling his body's adverse reactions to the whole scenario in the sharp unpleasant wheeze he could feel in his chest each time he breathed in and the way his body quaked with long shivers. Watanuki wondered what price he had to pay for this; surely it was Yuuko who sent Doumeki, right?

No one else… would have come…

As much as he hated it, Watanuki surged forward into that warm form, willing to forsake his antagonism if it meant escaping the cold. The other man was soaked through, of course, but Watanuki felt heat seep into him at every point of contact despite the clammy material between them. Arms wrapped immediately around him, tugging the thick warm coat around both their forms better before looping around his waist in a gentle but firm grip.

In the moment before he fell into the oblivion of sleep, Watanuki wondered if he imagined the brief tremble in Doumeki's hands.

..end..

More AN: This… is probably not as medically correct as I would like it to be. How did Watanuki manage to get himself into this predicament? Well, it's Watanuki, that's all I have to say.

As always, reviews and con/crit are much beloved.