Everybody needs his memories. They keep the wolf of insignificance from the door.
There was something so utterly, utterly terrifying about it. Something so completely horrific it choked him, it strangled him, it sat on his chest and smothered the very breath from him.
Was he real? Was this real? Was anything at all real?
Watanuki grasped at his head, fingers lacing too tightly with his hair, causing him to wince. Watanuki wasn't a philosopher. For all he'd seen, for all he knew, he was still basically a pragmatic person, so how was he supposed to know?
What was the definition of real, anyway?
The fingers pressed harder into his scalp as he sat, hunched, alone, in an apartment that had stopped being home sometime after the sixth or eighth or tenth time staying at Yuuko's place. The nails dug into skin and Watanuki let out a hissed breath, in pain, in frustration, in anger (at himself, at Yuuko, maybe at a God he wasn't sure he believed in).
Watanuki sat, surrounded by pictures of people he couldn't even remember. His mom, his dad, the nice foster lady, the neighbors who took care of him when he'd moved in on his own; their faces stared up at him, smiling, accusing.
He just couldn't remember!
He sighed again, this one simply a release of emotions, of tension. He rocked back on his heels before pushing himself up from the floor. Today wasn't a good day for this (never was a good day for this).
He shuffled his way into the kitchen, stepping carefully over the strewn photographs. He didn't have the heart now to pick them up, plus he was running late. He was supposed to meet Himiwari-chan and Kohane-chan at the park in half an hour, lunch prepared for their picnic (Doumeki would be there too but this fact was easily and callously shoved to the back of his mind).
The simple meal nearly prepared itself. Rice and omelets and boiled vegetables (all he had time to prepare thanks to the near breakdown he had, that he strictly was not thinking about) were swiftly placed into the individual boxes he had bought for all of them (yes, even Doumeki, the ungrateful lout) ages and ages ago.
Irony struck him as he expertly arranged the boxes. He couldn't, for the life of him, remember what his own food tasted like, but he could still make it, he could still do this much. That about as much thought went into it as as much thought ever went through Doumeki's head was only slightly troubling, so long as he didn't let himself linger on it.
He was already five minutes late at this point, so he ran the ten blocks to the park. Years of running from hungry spirits had long conditioned him for this. He made it to the park in ten minutes, so in the end he was only fifteen minutes late, still he stumbles over his apologies to Himiwari-chan and Kohane-chan, breathless and slightly dizzy. Watanuki ignored Doumeki completely.
After conversation that was largely meaningless (Watanuki etched it into his mind anyway, desperate for any memories, even meaningless ones), they all sat on a blanket under a tree. It was summer, so there were no blooms. It was pretty all the same.
"What's wrong Watanuki-kun?" Himiwari asked, noticing him just staring at his food.
"Huh?" Watanuki jerked his head up, glasses sliding down his nose, hair flying wildly across his forehead. "Ah, sorry, Himiwari-chan, what did you say?"
Himiwari frowned lightly, looking particularly lovely with the action and repeated her question.
"Oh, nothing, nothing." Watanuki quickly assured her, hands swinging in the air to illustrate just how okay he is. The fact the action forced Doumeki to duck to avoid being hit was only a bonus.
"Alright." Himiwari reluctantly replied. Kohane peers at him closely, as though she could divine what was wrong with him with her eyes alone. Doumeki steals food out of his bento.
"Stop that!" Watanuki flailed around trying to block his deft chopsticks. All he accomplished was spilling some rice onto the blanket. "Look what you made me do!"
Kohane giggled and Watanuki's anger dissipated like mist in the morning. He can't stay mad when she smiles like that (not even at Doumeki).
The rest of the outing passed as these things usually did. They finished lunch, Doumeki stole more from his bento and Watanuki went spastic (a routine so ingrained it could be accomplished asleep), Himiwari made inane but kind comments (carefully, tragically, avoiding contact with all of them), Kohane spoke shyly and smiled brilliantly (and they all made sure to smile back, even if it was just a tiny lift to one side of the mouth).
It was all so simple and expected and utterly, utterly forgettable. It was only one day in many, one picnic in dozens.
Watanuki was determined to never forget it.
Author's Note: Number Three in the house! Can I get a what, what? (what am I on more like.) Anyways I love this one. Yay! But it's sad. Boo! The next one will be happier though.
Next story is Ame-Warashi.
Quote from Saul Bellow.
Feel free to give me quotes or themes to use!
REVIEW OR I'LL EAT YOU! RARWGH!!!!