Disclaimer: Characters owned by Clamp.

Lyrics in italics from Collide, by Howie Day.

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Shining Through

"Did you enjoy the meteor shower?" Yuuko asked, tapping the end of her pipe against the wood of the porch, watching Watanuki from the corner of her eye. He didn't trust it, he never trusted it, so he gave her the most carefully neutral answer he could come up with.

"It was nice, yeah." She gave him that sly, sliding smile, and something akin to Watanuki's normal exasperated panic began to clamor up his ribcage. She couldn't know, could she? About something so… negligible? Sure, Doumeki had been watching him, had smiled at him, and it wasn't something that happened everyday, but that certainly didn't make it significant.

Did it?

The dawn is breaking, A light shining through

Doumeki strolled down the street toward home, one arm buried in the fold of his yukata, fingers absent–mindedly tugging at the ties that held it together on the inside. The soft noise his sandals made echoed off the concrete walls, mingling with the distant giggles of teenagers also migrating home after the meteor shower. All right, he was a coward, but a coward with a purpose. Boldness would only bring ill ends, because Watanuki couldn't even bring himself to admit they were friends.

But friends encouraged each other, and Watanuki was at every archery meet and Doumeki never downplayed the fear Watanuki suffered on a daily basis. Friends looked out for each other, and Watanuki made him lunch everyday and Doumeki made sure his bow was never too far away. Friends walked together and studied together and stayed up late together and sacrificed for each other; Doumeki fleetingly touched a fingertip to the curve under his right eye. Friends laughed together, and although Doumeki had yet to see that happen, they were still friends.

Weren't they?

You're barely waking, And I'm tangled up in you

Watanuki sipped from his teacup, his thought from earlier still bothering him. He shot a glance at Yuuko, who was staring into the darkness beyond the fence, and when he followed her eyes, he noticed that the wards stuck to the wooden planks were shimmering slightly, as was the open space between the gates. Yuuko's hitsuzen at work again, drawing in its inexplicable customers like a spider's web, deceptively fragile and beautiful at dusk until it caught its fly. He sighed, goaded by the silence and a nagging curiosity. I'm going to regret this. It wasn't as if he wasn't going to die an old man in Yuuko's service, anyway. How much could a simple question cost?

"Yuuko–san… Why can't Doumeki enter the shop?"

She gave him an appraising glance, as if she was proud he'd finally asked, before she pursed her lips and blew the steam off her tea. They lapsed back into quiet, but Watanuki was familiar enough with the nature of this one to be patient. Yuuko wouldn't pass up an opportunity to tack more servitude onto his tab.

"Hitsuzen works inside and outside these walls," She began, her eyes drifting back to the fence. "But it only goes so far, as I'm sure you've noticed. All those people that came to me didn't know what they were asking for, and in the end, never achieved their wishes." Watanuki nodded, wary of the cryptic tone in her voice. It never boded well for him. Maybe he should fetch the sake in hopes that she'd drop the all–knowing act.

She chuckled, startling him as she echoed his thoughts. "Surely you don't want me to share the price for honest information?" She purred, teacup still near her lips. He shook his head fast, before it caused any mischief. She pointed a thin finger at him. "Then I suggest you listen and learn, Watanuki–kun."

She settled back again, leaning on one long arm and cradling the cup in her hand as she swirled it, waiting for it to cool off. "In every human life, there are choices – feed the baby or order take–out, marry this girl or take her as mistress, tell a white lie or be truthful – and while small, many of them prove far more important than most would think. Hitsuzen simply sets the path, and it's up to you to walk or wander, with equal consequences either way."

Warmth from the teacup seeped into his palms, making them itch and sweat, and Watanuki suddenly realized he wasn't sure he wanted to know what Yuuko was getting at.

I'm open, you're closed, Where I follow, you'll go

The fact that they didn't laugh together, only at each other, bothered Doumeki more than it should. It never got to him before, but now that he noticed it, he wasn't one to deny the obvious. That's Watanuki's job. So what? He'd smiled at Watanuki, unable to help himself when he saw his relaxed expression, and while he expected the bewildered response, he hadn't thought it would… hurt.

Being who he was, Doumeki broke it down to the facts. Watanuki protested and nagged and made some of the most annoyingly naïve decisions, something Doumeki thought he would've grown out of fast, given his position. He ignored Doumeki's advice, as if it was a crime to make sense. But that made up a large part of who Watanuki was, didn't it? All heart and no self–preservation, consequences be damned.

But he still made Doumeki whatever he wanted for lunch, was at his meets, managed to walk by the temple at exactly the right time every morning. He retrieved his soul from the Zashiki–Warashi. He even gave up his right eye, stubborn as he was about it. No one consistently did thing like that for someone they dislike, obligation or not.

So why couldn't they smile at each other?

I worry I won't see your face, Light up again

"Doumeki leads a life of choice. He'll always know his alternatives, he'll never give up until he chooses to, and because of that, hitsuzen only has so much power with him." Yuuko gave Watanuki another appraising glance. "You, on the other hand, are extremely influenced by hitsuzen, because it's in your blood – you could avoid it no more than Doumeki could invite it."

Watanuki scowled, stuck on her words. So what? He already knew Doumeki was a lucky, perfect bastard. Brooding good looks, loving family, skill at nearly everything he touched? All those chocolates on Valentine's day, even from Himawari–chan? But also able to pick and choose life as he wanted? It was something Watanuki had craved ever since his parents died, ever since he'd discovered his terrible talent, ever since his life had spiraled out of his hands and left him as a lonely, struggling mess. That was what had brought him to Yuuko, wasn't it? It was why he'd come to love cooking and ironing and sweeping and going to bed early? Because it was the last vestige of control he had?

"But there is always a path for every person, one thing it is up to you to know and follow – a sole reign of choice or hitsuzen, so to speak, depending on the dominant element in your life," Yuuko continued, still watching his roiling expression out of the corner of her eye. "One path you could deny with hitsuzen, one path you cannot help but follow with choice." She turned to look at him, a hint of a smile playing at her mouth, but Watanuki couldn't tell if the glint in her eyes was serious or playful. He promptly forgot what he was thinking, sensing huge chunks of his paychecks at stake if he didn't pay attention.

"But for Doumeki, his decisions carry far more weight – he's responsible not only for the path of his own life, but those he influences as well. It is a hard burden to bear."

Even the best fall down sometimes, Even the wrong words seem to rhyme

Doumeki often wondered how he'd ended up as the one with all the attention. Sure, he was good–looking, but a lot of guys were. He was in archery club, but he was there because he enjoyed the challenge, for the way it sharpened his meditation – not for the glory and appeal that led other boys to it. He'd been dealt a decent hand from the start, but he didn't think it was enough to draw attention.

Watanuki was the loud one, always waving his arms and fainting and falling flat on his face – he was the one who should be noticed, with his inviting eyes and the way he tore around the streets, completely oblivious to the wake his actions caused. He was so unselfconscious in so many ways, a hidden gift to his curse, just as Doumeki didn't want to be known but all too often was.

I'm quiet, you know, You make a first impression

So if Doumeki had choice, then what drove him to spend nearly all his time with Watanuki, when he had gaggles of girls following him around? Sure, Doumeki wasn't typical – he'd grown up in a Shinto shrine; he had exorcist blood. But he'd never be in want of anything, not like Watanuki was.

He'd never know the weight loneliness had – desperate measures for desperate times, Watanuki mused. Doumeki would never know what it was like to wake up to an empty apartment. Doumeki would never know how cold it got when all he had was faint memories to keep him warm. Doumeki would never know how hard it was to make dinner for one, year after year.

But Doumeki was still there, wasn't he? Always at the right time? And that was a result of his choice? Did he choose to, as he'd once put it, carry half the burden?

It was Doumeki. Of course he did.

Watanuki shut his eyes, resting his chin against his chest as he tried to suppress the delightful panic that exploded into a million clamoring, sharp–toothed, iron–clad butterflies.

Well, I've found I'm scared to know, I'm always on your mind

Maybe if he didn't have to spend all his time protecting the fool, then maybe he could figure this out. Something was there, something Doumeki wasn't sure that he liked, that he wanted, that he was comfortable with. It was a controlled fall, an awkward tumble toward an unforeseeable landing, and while he was good at rapid adaptation, Doumeki was not fond of how it hazed his mind over like dawn on a muggy day.

He didn't know where it would end up, but the challenge was sorely tempting. He knew exactly how to get a rise out of Watanuki, knew which buttons to push to drive him up the wall. Why couldn't making him smile be as easy? Doumeki decided he could bide his time, suffer the cowardice – he just wanted Watanuki to smile at him, to not freak out if he smiled back.

So he could be sure they were friends.

Don't stop here – I've lost my place

I'm close behind

"Watanuki, do you remember what Doumeki–kun's eye resembled before you swallowed it?" Yuuko's voice was gentle, coaxing, and Watanuki already knew the conclusion she was tripping him toward. He nodded, eyes remaining glued shut.

"There is balance in everything. You'd do best to remember that."

If only balance didn't mean dependence on someone so… unfathomable. Watanuki did a brief examination of his current lifestyle, and while he wasn't sure he liked where it had brought him, it was a hell of a lot better than where he'd come from.

Contrast, choice, balance, hitsuzen. Did it matter, in the end? Apparently it put Doumeki smack dab into the center of everything anyway.

But hell if Watanuki would ever admit he liked him there.

Out of the doubt that fills your mind, You finally find, You and I collide

(Because sometimes a smile is all we need.)