Disclaimer: I do not own xxxHOLiC
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Empty
By letmeupme
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He sees a flash of colour.
Breaking out into a run, he frantically searches for it, that brush of rich, caramel colour...
The kitsune oden-shop.
They would still have connections with him; they might let him know-
Know what?
His hopes are dashed before they have the time to materialise.
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The flash of colour is gone, and the landscape is a dull grey of concrete and glass again.
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He returns to sweeping the shrine's entrance, taking up the forgotten broom as if nothing had happened.
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Everything is empty, for he can run and run, catching and grasping at swirls of colour that are there and gone in a blink of the eye, and his hands will still be empty.
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It's just as well that he doesn't call, just as he didn't call the day before, or the day before that.
Even if he were to call, Doumeki knows that that, too, would be gone far too soon.
The years will flash by.
The both of them will still be left wanting: and then Watanuki will be the one left with empty hands.
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The days when Doumeki could simply notch an arrow to save him are long past, but if this bleary existence can somehow ease the other's pain, Doumeki will keep with it.
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He can still feel Yuuko-san's egg breaking apart in his hands.
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He still doesn't know if Watanuki had been saved.
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And Doumeki, he hasn't been able to move forward from that day, and time is passing him by.
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The tired young man can count how many seconds have passed since he last heard his voice, but he doesn't feel like it.
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The End.
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Author's Note:
Thank you for reading three whole (admittedly very short) chapters of drudge. I felt like writing something sad, and I didn't want that to colour the other stories I have going on- (I think Miss Silver might agree- I thank her for the review!). If it seems a bit lame, please tell me.