Chapter Two: Mountain Water Well

The old, ancient pipes froze one night. Only the self-repairing spells, dormant ever since before Yuuko's time, kept them from bursting apart as the ice expanded within the metal.

Maru and Moro conferred among themselves in the kitchen. Watanuki was making...something. He had pulled ingredients from the fridge and hadn't sorted them. He put a pot on the burner, frowning absently. When he turned the cold tap on the sink, then the hot tap, no water came out.

"No water in the pipes. No water," Maru sang softly, and Moro chimed under her breath, "No water. Only ice. Ice, ice, ice." They said it in the corner, to each other, very quiet, trying not to be heard.

But Watanuki heard. He stood blankly, thinking. His mind struggled to process what was before his eyes, to think what there was to be done. At last he remembered. There was more than one way to get water. Yuuko had showed him, once. Turning off the taps, he went outside to the back garden, and stopped at the well. It was the well connected to the pure water from the spirit mountain. Surely, as this was an emergency, it would be permissible...

Uncertain as to how to proceed, he took the bucket from the rope and dropped it in the water. It fell a very long ways; he heard the splash at the bottom, which was very faint. In that moment he blanked, for there did not seem to be any way to get the bucket back.

Slowly and tentatively, the freezing water of the well rose from the depths until it came to cover his hands. Then the bucket collided with his fingers. A pair of hands reached from below the rising water to clasp his wrists. Watanuki jerked back in surprise.

They were slight, slender hands, but strong. They pulled. Watanuki spluttered as the hands climbed up his arm and grasped his shoulders. The water swelled up once more and fell over the stones of the well with a whoosh, and the Zashiki-Warashi rose up and threw her arms around the shopkeeper. The rest of the water fell with a loud, final splash, flinging droplets of water everywhere. And then the water sank back down, more quickly than it had come. The bucket bobbled at the bottom, a dark speck among the reflective silver water.

Secure in Watanuki's arms, the Zashiki-Warashi arched herself to look at Watanuki, gently cupping his chin between her hands so she could see him better, so he could see her. His eyes had trouble focusing, and he was shivering after being doused in the ice-water.

"Zashiki-Warashi," he murmured.

"Yes, Watanuki," she replied gently, "It is I." She wiped the water from his face and wished she could take the pallor from his skin. "Will you let me come to you?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

It has been too long, thought the Zashiki-Warashi unhappily; she inhaled sharply as she looked down on him. "Your hands are so cold and stiff, like the white bones of a corpse," she murmured. "I saw them through the water. I had not seen you in years. So I came."

He did not respond. His arms had begun to lose their strength.

She slipped out of his grasp and pulled herself out of the well, easily slipping over the side. "You are very sick," she told him, and smoothed slick, wet bangs from his forehead. Under her palm, his forehead was warm.

Watanuki pulled back, and shook his head.

"You were trying to get water out of the well, weren't you?" the Zashiki-Warashi said searchingly. "Did you not call for my aid? You had not sent word in months."

Watanuki said, "the pipes froze..."

"I see," said the Zashiki-Warashi; she did not know quite what he spoke of, but she knew it must have been a human problem from how apologetic he sounded. That did not bother her. "How can I help?"

Watanuki said, "Water. For soup and...for tea." He gestured listlessly at the bucket, now back at the bottom of the well. His hands shook slightly as he did so.

The Zashiki-Warashi brought the bucket back up, and set it on the stones for him. Watanuki stared at it, and reached to pick it up, but the water was so heavy that he almost tripped, and he fell to his knees instead. Using her power, the Zashiki-Warashi deftly rescued the water. She turned, and said, "Watanuki, something's wrong—"

Watanuki's knuckles turned white where they pressed against the ground. "Let's get back to the house," he said, eyes closed, and a violent shiver racked his body. Then Watanuki stood up, swaying. But just as she had thought he might have reached equilibrium, his face abruptly went white, his knees buckled and he fainted.

The Zashiki-Warashi dropped the bucket and immediately knelt at his side. She took his glasses off and slapped him hard, and waited for him to come back to his senses. After a few tense seconds, he came to with a low moan.

"This isn't right," the Zashiki-Warashi told him.

Watanuki closed his eyes.

"Watanuki, will you allow me to nurse you?"

"Mmm." He nodded slightly and sat up, though he immediately pressed his forehead to his knees, and wrapped his arms around them. The Zashiki-Warashi decided that was answer enough.

When he was ready, she took his hand and slowly led him into the house. She had Maru and Moro strip him of his garments and bring him dry clothes. She left rather than watch, but she tucked him into bed himself, and sat at his side so he would not stir. As soon as he lay down, he fell asleep, despite the chills. Mokona bounced to his side.

The girls shut the doors they had opened and brought plates of food and warm milk, leaving them on the floor next to the bed. He was not ready for either, at the moment, but she recognized the warmth in the gesture.

She sighed. Watanuki's companions were powerless to help him when he would not help himself. She could see it had caused them much distress. Well, it would not be their burden anymore.

The Zashiki-Warashi wiped his brow and sang to him.

When he began sleeping for real for the first time in weeks, she slipped into the garden to find healing herbs. He had most of what she needed. What he did not, she politely requested of the air spirits, and soon enough, stray birds brought her a tussock of the plants she asked for. She burned some of the sweet-smelling herbs in his room. With others she made poultices.

He woke up with a fever, and the battle began. She rolled up her sleeves, and became busy. It would have been so easy to heal him deep in the mountains. Here in the human world, her powers were not at full strength. But she did what she could.

The Zashiki-Warashi was deep in her work when the Ame-Warashi stopped by. The Zashiki-Warashi barely noticed the rumbles outside, nor when the rain began to pour, and then to pound, and finally to sweep across the land in sheets, and to flood the drains and threaten to swallow up the streets in a flood. It was probably a natural thunderstorm, but there was something brooding and ominous about it.

The Ame-Warashi dissolved out of the rain, gripped her umbrella and stalked inside the house to stand behind the Zashiki-Warashi with a truly terrifying expression on her face, the umbrella half-raised. The Zashiki-Warashi turned around suddenly and squeaked at the sight of her.

The Ame-Warashi's face twisted. Her eyes fixed on the form lying prone past the softspoken blue-haired girl. "The fool," she said coldly, her eyes fixed on Watanuki. Her swift glance comprehended everything in an instant. "Tell me why I should not end his miserable life right now." Her rage, though carefully undirected so as not to harm, was nonetheless terrible to behold. "Mercy," she snarled to herself. I thought we went through this already, after the spider's grudge. How could he let himself fall into such a state?

The Zashiki-Warashi, speechless, stared back at her red-headed mentor in distress with silent pleading eyes.

The Ame-Warashi softened. It would have been better if she had not said anything, but her temper did always get the better of her. She had been speaking to herself, not to her charge. And it was not as if she would ever do as she threatened. She would not take a life. She despised people who drowned kittens in storm drains. But seeing the young shopkeeper like this, the red film of anger came down over her eyes, and she had wanted someone to know it— Watanuki, of course, but he was not conscious. However, even if he had been awake, the question was whether he would comprehend what her fury was for. The Zashiki-Warashi certainly didn't. To the Ame-Warashi, they were both like lovesick puppies. Watanuki would be no better.

"Don't look at me like that!" the Ame-Warashi snapped at the Zashiki-Warashi, swishing her umbrella defensively. "I know you love him! It would be kinder, that's all." She harrumphed and sat down beside the Zashiki-Warashi on the bed. "Look, see how he suffers! It's a miracle he lasted this long!" But as the Zashiki-Warashi continued to look upset, the Ame-Warashi hastily backed off. "Look, I didn't mean that," she said, more kindly. "But you have never been through so much pain as he has suffered every day of his lifetime, and that lifetime has been extended far beyond his means. He should be let go."

The Zashiki-Warashi shook her head. "He is very strong," the Zashiki-Warashi whispered.

The Ame-Warashi snorted and folded her arms. "I don't know what you're talking about. Look how close he is to death," she said sharply.

"He's hanging on." The Zashiki-Warashi reached toward the golden life-line pulsing in his chest. It shone feebly, but it brightened as fingers came close enough to touch it. "He wants to pull through."

The Ame-Warashi still looked skeptical.

The Zashiki-Warashi laid a hand on his forehead and Watanuki stirred in response. She sang him a verse from a song, and his lips curved absently in a slight smile.

The Ame-Warashi was nevertheless unimpressed. "I don't know what you see in him."

"Courage," answered the Zashiki-Warashi, and blushed.

"And kindness," replied the Ame-Warashi, looking resigned. "As you have said countless times before. Useless human qualities. Liable to get one killed. Hardly practical."

"His soul is beautiful," said the Zashiki-Warashi.

The Ame-Warashi shifted uncomfortably, letting her umbrella sweep across the tatami. She could not deny that she saw it also. "Well, there is that. Which is also why every spirit within five hundred feet wants his blood."

"It is a waste," said the Zashiki-Warashi fiercely. "Such a bright soul should shine for all eternity."

"He has that chance," said the Ame-Warashi, looking down at the shopkeeper dryly. "I don't think it has brought him much more than grief. Humans are not meant to live this way." She paused. "If his lifespan had been so drastically altered, it is even possible that he would have died before now."

Then the Zashiki-Warashi fell silent.

The Ame-Warashi began to feel just a little bit bad that she had not broken the news more gently. The Zashiki-Warashi really loved the boy; she wanted to comfort her and make it all better. But she was too practical. She had just bluntly spoken the truth, as she saw it. It was better than raising false hope.

She wanted to protect her charge. But the Zashiki-Warashi was still young, barely more than an adolescent in the spirit world. Falling in love with a human...it was such an easy way to get hurt. The Zashiki-Warashi was so pure, she might go mad from the strain if he outright refused her; and if he died, that would be almost as heavy a blow. The Ame-Warashi supposed she was lucky that the boy had lived as long as he did.

"Ame-Warashi, will you help this child live?" the Zashiki-Warashi turned to her, on her knees, pleading. And then she bowed.

'This child?' The Ame-Warashi's eyes widened slightly. Had the girl grown? What had happened to her crush?

When she thought back, the Zashiki-Warashi had grown quite a bit since she had last seen the boy. She had not cried over Watanuki's hurt, for one, which would have drawn the karasu-tengu (who would have surely beaten him to death with their paper fans since the fever hadn't killed him), but had immediately immersed herself in work. She had not given up, she had not despaired. She had dared to act without the Ame-Warashi to advise her, in accordance to her heart.

In the end, the Ame-Warashi could hardly refuse a request like that.

She plopped to her knees beside the boy and gingerly laid down her umbrella. "Well, if I must..." she muttered. "I will see what I can do. But no promises!" she said sharply, quickly holding up a warning finger as the Zashiki-Warashi beamed at her. "His deterioration is such that it is entirely up to him whether he will respond to healing and recover."

The Zashiki-Warashi's sunny smile continued unabated. "Then he will surely recover. For he is strong."

Taken aback, but not terribly surprised, the Ame-Warashi shook her head and held her tongue. It was an old debate between them; the Ame-Warashi would not have had it any other way. When it came down to it, she would do her work, for the girl's sake if nothing else.