"Metamorphosis"

When Doumeki arrived at the shop Yuuko was waiting for him.

"In here."

She motioned with one long ivory finger to a doorway off from the hall. Doumeki followed the soft shift of her kimono across the hard wood floor and into a wide room where a futon was prepared. An apple-white kimono was folded neatly beside it. Doumeki eased the slumbering Watanuki down onto the sheets without a word. He tenderly pressed a hand to the seer's forehead, pushing aside some stray black bangs.

"He won't wake," Yuuko cut short the tender moment with her usual husky, cryptic exposé. "at least not until it's too late."

Doumeki looked to her in his usual silent way, but his eyes held a grieving bid for explanation.

"Come," She beckoned him from the room with a wave of her deep red kimono sleeve which was patterned by gigantic flowers. "Maro, Moro, see to Watanuki's clothes."

The twin girls bounded past Doumeki as he left the room and followed Yuuko to the decking which framed the entire shop. The two sat side by side and Mokona brought a bottle of sake and two shot glasses for them to ease their anxieties.

There was a weighted pause as Yuuko held back her sleeve to pour the sake, and Doumeki clenched his fists on his knees as his patience reached the end of its tether. Just as he felt the atmosphere were about to smother him Yuuko spoke.

"Watanuki has been chosen to be the new patron deity of butterflies."

Of all the things, Doumeki expected that the least.

"A Monarch's life span is exceedingly short, and their reign is under constant threat by other spirits. Kings are lost regularly and more often than not to the jaws of spider deities. To protect their domain in the absence of a patron deity a highly valued kinsman will possess a spiritually gifted human. I'm sure I don't need to tell you the uniqueness of Watanuki's existence, and it's value to spirits. The boy who has been following Watanuki at school is such a kinsman, and he could not help himself when he came across our Watanuki. He couldn't over look such a splendid candidate. "

"So what will happen to Watanuki now?" Doumeki asked tepidly.

Yuuko's expression grew dark and her voice plunged a few octaves. "He will sleep until the possession is complete, then he will vanish to the spirit world and take up the thrown until he is devoured or dies."

Doumeki's eyes widened in horror and his lips parted as a breath left him.

"Before you say it," Yuuko added quickly. "nothing can be done until the process is complete and even then ...you will not like the price."

"I will pay any-!"

Yuuko held up her hand to quell his sudden burst of desperation. "It is not something that can be decided now. Go home and rest. The process does not take long, you will be back here before first light tomorrow."

The ominous premonition quieted Doumeki, if only because it filled his head with too much anxiety and frustration to articulate.

He did return home, feet heavy with reluctance, but not without a last lingering look at Watanuki lying asleep in the late afternoon sunlight.

I will not fail again. I promise. I'm going to save you, Watanuki...

Watanuki woke to find that he was wearing a loose, apple-white kimono which showed a generous V of flesh from his throat to just above his navel. His glasses were missing and he relied solely on the fuzzy natural vision of his heterochromia to guide the way. Not that there was much to see; he was walking aimlessly through a black expanse of space.

He threw his voice out into the darkness. "Hello? Is anybody there?" Then quieter, more intimately, he whispered:"Doumeki...?"

"Watanuki Kimihiro."

A sudden voice from behind made him start, and Watanuki whirled around to see Cho standing before him in a grand silk kimono adorned with various patterns and jewels. He looked regal.

"Cho?" Watanuki crinkled his features in confusion. "What is going on? Where am I?"

Cho smiled and shrugged, the tiny baubles on his bracelets and necklaces clinking together like marbles.

"I put you to sleep." he said. "You are dreaming."

Suddenly Cho was on top of him and Watanuki was flat on his back on the cool obsidian floor.

"And what a good dream it is." Cho sneered, voice velvety with pleasure.

Cho's hands were holding down his wrists but even so Watanuki struggled. "S-Stop! Let me go!"

"Aah-hah-ha~"

Cho released Watanuki's wrists but they remained suctioned to the floor by an invisible force, a pressure which locked his entire body to the surface of this nameless dreamscape.

"You would not fight if you knew what you are about to become. Accept it. My hands will guide you."

Cho placed his fingers within the folds of Watanuki's kimono and slid the fabric open in one smooth motion like parting waves. The flat of Cho's palms rubbed over the pink peaks of his nipples, sending a soft and terrible tremor down Watanuki's spine.

"W-Wait, what are you d-doing?" he gasped.

Cho continued to ease the immobile Watanuki out of his kimono, baring his shoulders and back to the cool obsidian floor. He flattened the sleeves just above where Watanuki's upturned palms were still suckered to the floor. It was like he was preparing a still life to paint.

Cho regarded the seer's lithe body with a hungry anticipating grin.

Watanuki blushed and closed his eyes against the lusty stare. "D-Don't look at me."

He felt so open now, and vulnerable; half undressed and at the mercy of some lunatic. Was Cho going to touch him again? Watanuki shuddered at the thought.

Cho exhaled and closed his eyes, suddenly pushing his crotch against Watanuki's in a show of released ecstasy. Watanuki gasped, his back arching, while Cho bent forward and let out a breathy groan. Before Watanuki had time to ask "what the hell was that?" Cho ground against him again, throwing back his head as another wave of pleasure stormed through him.

Wings suddenly unfurled from behind Cho on the back of his final thrust. They were huge and orange and shiny with fluid. They scattered dew drops as they flapped themselves dry and stretched. Watanuki stared up in awe beneath the shadow of Cho's wings - he felt as though he were under a stained glass window, with the light behind it. The butterfly wings dyed him a burnt orange and shadowed his face with the streaks of black which segmented their species design. They were beautiful and terrifying.

Cho panted softly, his smile returning. "Are you ready to receive me?"

"W-What?"

Cho placed the palm of his hand in the centre of Watanuki's chest. Below the palm glowed and become hot and Watanuki writhed as a sensation like a hot lance speared him through.

"Nnghh..! ..Ah..Aaah!"

He moaned in agony as a warm dampness began to form between his shoulder blades from where they were pressed into the floor. It felt like he was being emptied of magic; birthing some spiritual pregnancy. The feeling started to make him light headed and became decidedly wetter.

Am I bleeding? He wondered.

Rivulets of dark black liquid seemed to run from under his back along the floor. They followed the shape of his kimono sleeves, eating their way into the fabric and dying it black, scoring it into thin empty panels. This liquid, (his blood?) was drawing the stencil of wings around him.

Watanuki tossed and struggled weakly, "Nooo!" He felt like he were being emptied, sucked dry by many tiny fangs all at once. They spilled him all around in arching lines and jagged splices.

Cho grinned madly, pressing down harder onto Watanuki's chest, flooding him with more of this new energy which was forcing out the old. His own wings forked violently, lashing themselves stiff and turning sharp and shiny like the flat of a blade.

It was then, as Cho's wings started to dissolve, that Watanuki was injected with the most exquisite sensation; orange flesh started to flood the empty spaces of Watanuki's wings - like colourful ink squirted into water. His cries of pain quickly blurred into moans of pleasure as the colour filled the black edges of his new wings to the brim.

Watanuki felt every shade and tinge and shadow of his new wings being made. They cooked, almost; the hues became deeper - solar yellow, pumpkin orange, blood red, lined in bible black. He was on a hot plate and his back was sizzling.

Cho curled forward as what remained of his wings sagged like melted plastic. Colour ran from the tips, dotting Watanuki's new wings with points of heat. Cho was feeding him colour; Watanuki realised. He knew what was happening now. This was an exchange of power. Cho was turning him into something. Whatever he had been plotting he was about to get away with it...

Still, Watanuki couldn't summon the will to protest. His face was flushed, and his kimono in disarray showed the entirety of his spread thighs. The black liquid and pulpy orange flesh of his new wings were staining the underside of his arms from where they were thrown above his head, and he lay gasping passionately in the clutches of some other worldly equivalent of a sexual orgasm. His only thought was God, I hope it never ends...!

As the last of Cho's wings dripped down his shoulders he left out a satisfied sigh and sat up on his knees. Tracing a finger across Watanuki's bottom lip as he panted in receding ecstasy, Cho pressed his other hand to the black choker around his neck and it unfastened with a soft click.

"Your coronation is complete," Cho said huskily, "now here is your crown."

He locked the black choker around Watanuki's throat and it immediately shocked him back to his senses. His hands, now released, flew to the choker in horror and pain as it sent a violent current of electricity through him. "Aaah! It hurts-! Take it off! Ah!"

"There is no going back now, Your Majesty."

Cho grinned and his body started to glow. His shape shrunk and he turned back into a small ethereal orange butterfly, leaving Watanuki to cry and pull against the black obsidian floor as it turned to tar beneath him and began to consume his body.

"Somebody, help me!" Watanuki howled as he sunk deeper into the darkness, thrashing and reaching a grasping desperate hand above him into the obsidian sky. "Doumeki!"

"Watanuki!"

Doumeki awoke with a start, drenched in cold sweat. He sat up, gasping, and felt rivulets drip down between his shoulders. Clutching his head, Doumeki was assaulted by a migraine of acute spiritual pain. He groaned as the sudden pain subsided gradually and staggered to his feet in search of clothes.

As he sprinted out into the courtyard of the temple he glanced up at the low moon. It must be around 4am. Yuuko's voice resounded in his mind.

"You will be back here before first light tomorrow."

"That Witch." Doumeki growled under his breath as he sped up to a run.

When Doumeki reached the shop he didn't bother with pleasantries. Not announcing himself and leaving his shoes on, he burst through the front doors and made a b-line for Watanuki's room. He nearly fell through the door frame, slamming a palm down on the light switch and hanging there, panting, staring into the now illuminated room.

Watanuki was sitting up in his futon. His bi-colour eyes seemed heavy and misty as his gaze slid slowly to Doumeki, who was walking over to him. He crouched down next to the seer, watching him with fearful anticipation. The apple-white kimono Maro and Moro had changed him into had fallen down around his elbows, exposing his back to Doumeki's stunned eyes.

Butterfly wings were folded against his body. The colours were so bombastic against the white paleness of his naked flesh and Doumeki reached out to gingerly stroke a hand down the folded wings. They were soft and warm and damp. New. Alive. He quickly withdrew his hand.

Yuuko appeared in the doorway, hair down and wrapped in a cool blue yukata. She observed silently as always, and Doumeki glanced at her in a plea to do something, or tell him what to do. She said nothing. Beside him, Watanuki's form shivered and Doumeki watched in horror as the slats of the blinds behind the seer slowly became visible.

Watanuki was vanishing.

As if it was instinctual, Doumeki reached out to touch him again only to find his hand go straight through. Watanuki's previously dull eyes lit up in fear as he noticed the translucency of his body. He let out a small noise of terror before wrapping his arms around himself in frantic denial. He looked from Doumeki to Yuuko in turn, searching their faces for any understanding of his situation. On Yuuko's face he found only cold reserve.

"Yuuko-San..." he bleated mournfully, before a rush of agony enraptured him. Watanuki let out a juicy yelp of pain as his wings suddenly opened, spreading out in one swift impressive motion. Doumeki was pushed back by the force of the wing beat, the gush of air throwing him down in front of Yuuko.

Watanuki curled forward in pain as his wings thrashed and blood began to pump through the tiny thread-thick veins. He crawled forward on his stomach and reached out with tears streaming down his face, like a child to their mother. "Help me! Yuuko-San!"

Yuuko bowed her head - in Watanuki's eyes, she was condemning him to his fate.

With that last ounce of fight snuffed out of him Watanuki disappeared entirely, leaving Doumeki and Yuuko alone in the room.