Author's Notes

And, as usual, the plan messes itself up. Anywhere between one and three chapters left; it all depends on that last chapter. *shakes fist at chapter in question*

Meetings

'They are very much like you and Dōmeki, Watanuki. But you should be more grateful. After all, you have something more that they don't.' – Yuuko gets an interesting pair of customers…

Kouichi/Koichi K &Yuuko I

"Words, once it has left your mouth, it cannot be uncalled. It cannot be nullified. People don't understand how strongly they're tied down because of it. But they continue to use that lock. Words are something living and sometimes, it can even tie down a person's life." – Yuko Ichihara

Chapter 4

Darkness

There is no direction in darkness, except any flicker of light that appears like a senseless beacon. It could be the light reflecting off rivers of blood in the underworld, or the light at the end of the tunnel and the tip of the cliff, or the light from the lone street lamp still clinging to old life when its comrades had long since gone out, or the torch light from a worried family or friend searching for the lost child.

And what can a lost child do, but follow that light?

It is inevitable; it is engraved into mankind, and so he too followed the only light available to him. He followed it because, like most humans, there was something about the insatiable darkness that unnerved him, and something about the light that called him close. It could have been the light of a fire, or of the afterlife…or it could be the way out. Like many others before him, it didn't seem like a choice, but an unavoidability. If there was only one path, eventually all who wondered in the never-ending darkness would wind up on it.

And he was no exception. There was no other hint towards a way, no sound except the air which seemed to spin in all directions and come from nowhere. No light except the one he followed, flickering and spitting but guiding all the same. No warmth except the warmth that clung to his body, there but indistinct from his surroundings in the darkness. No voice except the screaming silence all round; he had already tried calling out, but to no avail.

So he could do nothing but walk on, in the dark about what awaited him at the end of that light, of what lurked in the darkness.

Yuuko considered the situation. It was not a favourable one; the balance between light and darkness was fragile, but indistinct. In the case of Koichi Kimura, she couldn't be sure which way the scales tipped. To pull a person on the brink of death back to life was perhaps one of the most inexact wish to grant; the moment the scales tipped towards death the wish, and the power it gave, became void. It was only life that could be tampered with; life that could be changed, or taken. Death was absolute; once it had taken life, there was no going back for anyone.

Just like once someone had made their decision and stepped on a straight road to fate, there was no turning back. But when it came to "saving" someone, it was all too easy to turn away; there were too many pathways, too many forks in the road, and the road itself could be so slim the minor branches seemed more prominent and likely.

But if there was life, then a flame would attract the butterfly. And she had a candle, his candle, for that very purpose. It had been an unbalanced payment after all, that disrupted the minor balance. But she had accepted it, because now it would be of use.

Balances were sick fickle things, she mused, striking the match and lighting the candle. It did nothing unusual at first: the wick took hold of the light and brightened as the matchstick coughed and died. Then it flared: a bright yellow, before returning to its more casual mix of red and orange.

She watched the colours carefully, playing with an incense stick.

The light grew nearer, but also bright enough to make him cringe and turn away. He stopped walking for a bit, afraid he'd misstep and lose the light entirely. If that happened, he'd be wondering alone in the darkness…

And the thing he feared, and hated, most was being utterly alone. Little things like being caught in the rain without an umbrella, or forgetting his lunch at home, he could deal with, but when that little bubble around him became dense with air and deaf and blind to the world… It wasn't claustrophobic, but an empty echo that screamed like the darkness that clung to him now.

That thought cried painfully in his mind, and he heard a shift in the air as his breath caught. He had to get out of there. He had to find the way out.

He opened his eyes again and followed the light, ignoring the way it burned.

The angel snuck about the darkness. It was still young, so his lair existed in the safety between worlds instead of entirely in the light, the sun or its reflected face on the moon that all those lonely souls looked towards, identifying themselves as the perfect food source for ones like him.

But the young ones had to make do with the ones that had stronger darkness and lesser light, who wandered blind in the crossroads searching for the path back to life. And there were surprisingly many who fell upon their doorstep, who wandered blindly after the light from his wings. Some he lost in the chase; thy found another light or rope and followed that to the end. Most fell into his arms, and if they found the other light afterwards…well, all the better. More hosts for him to choose from once the first was fully dried.

And this particular angel was hungry for some food, and with saliva dripping from its jaws it followed the lost soul.

Yuuko's eyes narrowed as she felt something, seemed something, on that other plane. Many a kind lived on the fringe between worlds; some were simply lost souls who, unable to find their way to death or life, wandered eternally in between. Then there were the perfectly innocent non-human spirits who's taken the crossroads and that eternal darkness their home. But the worrisome were the ones who took those crossroads as their feeding ground.

It was impossible to know who was where until they made their move. And that was one of the dimensions she could barely touch, not only because it came too close to death and that was forbidden, but because her own sealed time repelled her from that world.

She could only coax things away or toward, whether it was a client or a job or someone he was starting to care about…and, as she crushed incense between her fingers and watched the flakes burn in the candle flame, she found herself thinking about Watanuki, and how fortunate he'd been.

The soft rosy smell, like petals dampened by summer rain, drifted out from the quiet smoke.

The darkness grew hazier, yet lighter. It wasn't as suppressing now; rather it was like someone had taken his hand and was leading him towards the light. Except he found the light was getting further away and he yanked towards it before freezing at the sudden tightness that wrapped around him.

If there was someone beside him, it didn't want him going that way. But that way was the light, and though the company had been a splash of relief, he couldn't leave the light to follow it into darkness. The light was the way out; it had to be the way out, out to people whose faces he could see and whose voices he could hear, even when the words weren't directed towards him.

But the light was glaring even more now, glaring at him to decide, threatening to leave…

He'd left the darker company before his mind even registered his decision, before it even took in those words that he'd said, long ago…

"I hate being alone…in the dark…"

And the light was the way out, even if the soft lighter darkness was more inviting, more warm. He turned back that way turned so the light was behind him, latching onto his back – and the companion in the dark rushed to him, touched him like tendrils of gently wafting smoke.

'Do you want to live?'

Yes, he replied.

And a harsher voice, with which the smoke filled one uselessly tarried…

'Do you want to escape that lonely world?'

He answered again, without hesitation. Yes.

When an eyelid fluttered and a finger twitched, Yuuko blew gently on the flame. The unburnt flakes of incense were gifted to the winds and no more rose-scented smoke came. The candle however didn't go out, but wavered and burned on, orange morphing slowly to present an almost white centre.

She frowned, looking at the patient. She could see nothing yet, sense nothing…but even a woman could not detect their pregnancy upon fertilisation. They required time for the seed to sprout. Moreso with the younger, unrooted ones.

'You will discover your price soon,' she said to the other boy, the silent one who'd been watching her all the while. 'What you do when you discover it is up to you.'

There was no such thing as freedom, she knew, only the illusion thereof. But sometimes there were choices, wherein the fine balance was kept no matter which path they took. And that was the case here.