Author's Notes:
I would apologize for the long time between updates, but that would probably be redundant at this point.
Regarding this chapter: I haven't read xxxHolic. I know, I know—how can I possibly understand the ending of Tsubasa if I haven't read its sister-series? (The short answer: I can't because the ending of Tsubasa doesn't make any sense). But the point is, this chapter focuses on Watanuki's attitudes, and since I haven't read xxxHolic, I'm making a lot of uninformed guesses about Watanuki's beliefs/philosophies/etc. So consider eighty percent of what Watanuki says here to be conjecture/headcanon.
Chapter One-Hundred Fifty-Four
The capsule exploded in a shower of glass, the magic lock broken, the souls inside freed. Light poured into the air where the device had floated, like molten gold, and from it, two nearly identical figures emerged. Only two, Fai thought, despair shattering his moment of triumph. Where is Syaoran? Or Kuro-chan or Syaoran's father? They couldn't have simply vanished—if both Sakuras had broken free without complication, then surely the others had escaped as well. But where? Why aren't they here?
"Syaoran can't get out!" Mokona cried from his shoulder.
"What do you mean?" Fai asked, keeping half his attention focused on the enemy. Fei-Wang gaped at the princesses, his mouth open, one hand half-extended as if to hold them back. "Are they still in the world within the capsule?" Dangerous, he thought. Far too dangerous. To be trapped inside a world as it shattered like that would almost certainly be lethal.
"Not the device," Mokona said plaintively. "They're between worlds. They won't be able to get back without Mokona."
Fai flinched. He had traversed worlds before, both with and without Mokona, but he'd had magic to aid him. Neither Syaoran could use world-jumping magic, and sending Mokona out alone could trap him and the princesses here with no way out. No, better to leave them, Fai thought, guilt lashing at his conscience. At least in that in-between place, they'll be safe from this battle.
He had to focus, turn the situation to his advantage while he still could. Projecting a field of influence around himself, he began tracing a series of runes in the air, weaving threads of magic through them. The runes gave a spell direction, specificity, but the web of magic twined through them gave a spell power. He knotted the magic in thick cords, then looped those around one another to form a twisting rope of energy. Then he sent that javelin of magic toward Fei-Wang.
The spell behaved exactly as intended, shooting in a straight line for most of the distance, then breaking apart into five spears of energy at the last moment, piercing Fei-Wang's body in several different places, though the numerous wards imprinted on his soul kept Fai from scoring a direct hit. But a thousand tiny cuts could still kill, and as long as there was a chance he might succeed, he had to try. Yes, he thought, crafting another spell. For my friends, I have to try.
"You do not understand," Syaoran began, stepping toward Watanuki. "My son is fated to be with the princess. It is one of the few choices of fate that could make him happy, if he accepts it, and I will not allow this" —he gestured sharply to his son, who flinched as if someone had thrown a knife at him—"to continue."
Watanuki eyed him for a moment, every trace of levity seeping from his expression. "You say he is 'fated' to choose Princess Sakura?"
"Yes," Syaoran said through his teeth, desperately wishing he could change his son's mind with the force of his conviction.
"I see," Watanuki said. He looked to Kurogane. "And what do you say? Do you believe in fate? And, if so, do you resent it for dictating your path in life, or do you accept that some patterns of the universe are beyond your control?"
The ninja opened his mouth, then closed it, a pensive look crossing his face. "It might be real. I wouldn't be the person to ask. But if it were impossible to fight, then what's the point of making choices? What's the point of living if everything in that life is already planned out?"
Watanuki nodded. "A good answer." His eyes refocused on Syaoran, and for the first time, he noticed the timeless air about the boy, as if he held a precious nugget of wisdom that would change the life of anyone who possessed it. "And therein lies the bigger question: Do we, as human beings, have the right to make our own choices and circumvent our destiny?"
He hesitated. Disagreeing would be tantamount to saying it was acceptable to stop trying, to stand in the face of impending disaster, death, and hardship without acting to change it. But agreeing meant admitting that his son had every right not to accept the princess as his soul-mate, to instead consort with someone utterly unsuited to him. Watanuki is acting exactly as Yuuko would, Syaoran realized, startled.
When his hesitation turned to silence, Watanuki went on. "We have arrived here, in part, because we each tried to change something in our respective destinies. Whether that is a crime against nature is debatable, but we can neither ignore the consequences nor refute the benefits of sidestepping certain events that have been foreordained. You see," and here he paused, looking thoughtful, "the future is always changing, but most often in small ways. A decision to stay in one place instead of traveling may result in a person never meeting their soul-mate, which causes bigger ripples. The life that they could have had with that person evaporates, and fate tries to reconstruct that pattern in some other way, trying to either bring those soul-mates together or to approximate an equivalent relationship that fulfills all the same things that the original pattern wanted. And though fate—if you want to call it such—continues to strive for an ideal pattern, in which every person's choices lead to the final shape of that perfect pattern, there will always be deviations. Nothing can be perfect. Not even destiny itself."
Nothing can be perfect. Syaoran raised a hand to his chest. He was nothing more than a magical construct, a copy of a soul given independence. He had been smashed to pieces, reborn, then locked away in a magical prison. Those things had left fissures, not just of the mind and body, but of the soul. Now, having tumbled into this space between worlds, he could feel those fissures widening.
He began to wonder how much time he had left before his heart shattered again.
Realizing that the others were still waiting for his response, Syaoran spoke. "If this relationship is nothing more than a reconstruction of what should be, then isn't it better, if the possibility exists, to seek out that ideal destiny?"
Watanuki eyed him for a moment. "To accept fate . . . Yes, I can see why you may prefer the original pattern, in this instance. But what would you say if I told you that destiny had arranged for Fei-Wang Reed to destroy the worlds? If destiny's ideal pattern was one that led to the total disintegration of everything that ever was, of everything that can ever be, would you still wish to seek out the 'ideal' destiny?"
He swallowed thickly, looking down. "No," he said honestly. "No, I wouldn't."
"Then do not ask others to adhere to a destiny they wish to refuse."
Syaoran looked at his son, then at Kurogane. Then, ashamed but not ready to put aside his disdain for a relationship so obviously doomed to fail, he looked away.
"Now, then," Watanuki said, "could one of you tell me how it is that we came to arrive in this place?"
The tension drained out of the air, and his son stepped forward, explaining the events that had led up to Watanuki's creation, then jumping ahead to how everyone else had arrived here from within the capsule Fei-Wang had sealed them in. Watanuki had been created to fill the holes left behind after Tsubasa—that was what Syaoran had named his son, even though he'd long ago agreed to let him borrow the name "Syaoran"—had turned back time. Naturally, that meant that Tsubasa and Watanuki shared many traits, though their respective worlds had shaped them differently. So many twists and turns life takes, Syaoran thought, his eyes sliding to the ninja. Kurogane stood a foot behind Tsubasa, his expression stern. Faint lines of irritation pulled at his eyes, remnants of their earlier confrontation. Syaoran could tell his accusations prickled at the man's mind, and for the first time since their confrontation, he felt a twinge of guilt for speaking so harshly to his old teacher.
"I guess it's only natural that we're similar," Watanuki said when Tsubasa finished, nodding to himself, "since we three are part of the same existence."
Syaoran nodded absently, though the bulk of his attention remained on his son and Kurogane. Tsubasa gave no indication that he'd been manipulated or forced into the relationship. Rather than edging away from the man, he drew closer whenever the conversation turned to something discomfiting. Several times, he had reached for Kurogane's hand, seemingly in search of support, before steeling himself against whatever turn of thought or speech had made him uncomfortable.
He seemed so happy when he realized that Kurogane had made it out of the capsule unscathed. His guilt evolved into shame. Perhaps he had judged the situation too quickly. If Tsubasa could find happiness in this relationship, even if it was not meant to be, what justification did Syaoran have for trying to turn him away from it?
"It was my decision that got everybody mixed up in this," Tsubasa said, looking down.
Syaoran stepped forward, words of reassurance dancing on his tongue. He'd hardly been paying attention to the conversation, but the guilt in Tsubasa's voice—so familiar, a direct echo to his own guilt—snatched his attention in an instant. But before he could speak, the ninja laid a hand on Tsubasa's shoulder, tugging him ever so slightly closer. "No, it wasn't."
"If you had never chosen to turn back time, I would not have been created," Syaoran told him. "I would not have ever lived. The same is true of Watanuki."
"Yeah," Kurogane agreed, "so unless you're saying that you wish neither of them had been born, stop blaming yourself for what happened. You couldn't have predicted things would get so screwed up."
"That doesn't change . . ." Tsubasa trailed off, facing the ninja. Syaoran leaned forward, observing. Kurogane said nothing, only looked at Tsubasa with a stern expression, but slowly, the boy's guilt seemed to melt away. It was as if everything that had chained him to his remorse—to his belief that he could not be absolved of his supposed sins—had begun to dissolve, freeing him from his self-imposed suffering.
My son is happy. The thought put a lump in his throat. I never thought anyone could make him happy, except for her . . . I . . .
I was wrong. He inhaled, shivering. Inside, he could feel the cracks in his soul widening, until it felt like he would simply break apart where he stood. Not yet. I can't die yet. With effort, he stopped the fractures from spreading. He would get his son out of this place.
"In any case," Tsubasa said, unaware of Syaoran's struggle to hold himself together, "we need to find a way out of here."
Watanuki nodded. "The walls between dimensions are solid but brittle. That is why, with the right sort of magic, travel between worlds is possible. However, since we have already broken through the barrier into this in-between place, the dimensional wall will be scarred, making it easier to return to where we were before we came here. The price would be manageable, despite our great need. Still a harsh price, but one we could pay. It would only take a fissure . . ."
A fissure. Only a fissure. Syaoran almost laughed. Is that what my life comes down to? he wondered. My noble sacrifice, barely enough to cause a crack in the dimensional walls to match the cracks in my soul? He could still feel the rifts inside him, stretching wider, like a canyon growing from a crack in the ground. No matter what he chose next, he did not have long to live. Then let this be my final sacrifice, he thought, opening his mouth to volunteer. Let this be the moment I choose to give my son the life he deserves. He started to speak, only to be cut off by a gruff voice.
"I'll pay the price," Kurogane said, and the world between worlds fell silent.