"A lowering sky at dawn", Part 14
Okay, this chapter includes some informative links, since I'm again referencing some stuff that's a bit obscure. So if you're looking for more info on those things, there are Author's Notes at the bottom.
14.
"We don't have a great deal of time, so please forgive me for being blunt," Watanuki tells the Doumekis now re-assembled in the rear parlor.
"As I've warned you, the prices for your request will be quite high, due to the difficulty involved. From what I've learned of Ryou-san's current condition, the chances of him waking on his own are not good. And if he does awaken, he will be severely impaired, possibly for life. He will have difficulty with sight and speech. He will be unable to walk, unable to do many things for himself. In short, if he wakes, he will not be the person you once knew."
Here he pauses, giving Haruka a moment to press her hands over her eyes, and collect herself. It is a longish moment, and at the end, she brings her palms together, fingers tipped to her forehead, lips moving in a brief prayer.
Then she opens her eyes on him. "What can be done, then?"
"The price, for Shiori-san, will be her ability to speak. For Kiyoshi-san, the use of his legs."
Here he stops, not for them, but for himself. Because this is the most terrible, most excruciating part of granting requests; being forced to examine the severed edges left by the surgical exactness of fate. Shiori had spoken the words which led to this crisis, and now must pay accordingly. Kiyoshi's fault was in failing to move, to act on what he had seen coming. His failure too, is now his price.
And though he cannot show it, must not show it, Watanuki has been bleeding inside, ever since these sentences entered his mind, whispered to him by that distant knowing, acquired through years of errors and injuries, and the suffering he'd caused those around him, when they had to see him bear the outstanding costs.
He no longer stints on those costs, not even the worst ones. Yet in instances like this, his heart hurts just as much as if a piece had been torn out of it, to balance the accounts.
However, at least in this respect, Ryou's siblings do their family proud. There are no gasps of shock, no tears. Shiori reaches over and takes her mother's hand, a look of grim silent acknowledgment passing between them. Kiyoshi flattens his palms on the table, staring at the wood beneath, and pulls in a deep breath.
"And my brother. What will he have to pay?" In answer to the looks from Haruka and Shiori, he adds, "Watanuki-sama said our prices wouldn't be enough. Who else is there, but Ryou?"
"I still--," Haruka begins, but Watanuki raises a hand, shaking his head.
"My apologies, Haruka-chan. But you've done all I'm able to permit. Ryou-san's price will be time."
Haruka slumps back, hand over her mouth, and Shiori frowns between them. "What does that mean, time?"
"It may not be as much as Haruka-chan fears right now. Where Ryou-san has gone--the place he must be brought back from--will still influence him for awhile. There is a danger he could be lost to that place again, until he regains his full strength. Staying in this shop, under my protection, would be the safest situation for him, during that period. Once he's stronger, he can go back home. However I'll still require his services after that. For chores and errands, things I'm unable to do myself, until his debt to the shop is paid off."
Slowly, Haruka's fingers slip down, curling at her chin. "For....can I ask, how long his debt will last?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know that yet," Watanuki tells her. "Perhaps in the future, I'll be able to estimate. If he were to stay here full-time, I imagine it would be a shorter term. But Ryou-san should finish school, and go on to college if he wishes. As much as possible, he still deserves a normal life. So he will be a part-timer here, just as I was for awhile."
Once the prices have been explained, and formally accepted (with Haruka consenting on Ryou's behalf), Watanuki must make them binding. He takes a lavender-colored silk obi-age from his own collection, and a special pair of cutting shears from the storeroom. While Haruka, Shiori, and Kiyoshi watch, he cuts the crinkled silk in half, with regular sewing scissors, making this the first miscellaneous item to go on Ryou's debt account.
After preparing his calligraphy kit, with the ink and brush he normally only uses for notes sent to Ame-Warashi and those of her ilk, he draws a character on each of the silk pieces.
On the first, he writes
Suijaku
On the second:
Damaru
While waiting for the ink to dry, he explains his purpose. "Doumeki Kiyoshi, Doumeki Shiori," looking to each of them in turn. "You will leave here wearing half of a charm. The one reading Damaru, will go to Shiori-san. This one that says Suijaku, Kiyoshi-san will wear. When the wish is complete, you will see these whole again, and your prices will be taken."
That said, he takes each scrap of silk, and cuts it in half down the center, with the shears from the storeroom, since anything cut with these particular shears retains its connection to the original whole. So he will give them each half of their charm, and the other halves he will take to Ryou. Through this means, Ryou's loss of speech and loss of mobility will be transferred to his siblings.
"You may or may not choose to believe me," he tells them, as he ties their halves of the charm to their left wrists. "But this price is not a punishment from me. Just as I cannot forgive you, it is not my place to judge you either. If there is any sentence here, it comes from the balance demanded by nature, not from me personally. I would never willingly harm either of you, or any member of your family."
"We understand," Kiyoshi nods to him, though he glances at his bound wrist with certain dread. "I can live with this one thing, if it means my brother doesn't have to live with all of it."
"It's more than fair," Shiori puts in, but there is a brittle tautness about her which concerns Watanuki, and for this reason he asks her alone to walk with him, when he returns the shears to the storeroom.
She follows him in silence, waits outside while he ducks in to place the shears in their box on the shelf, and once he steps out and closes the door behind him, he addresses her.
"Shiori-san, I'm aware that your price is very high. And because of that, because you are paying it on behalf of another person, I am able to offer you some advice, if you would hear it."
"Even if I don't deserve it?" She stands rigid, head down and hands clasped tightly behind her back.
"You did a deeply regrettable thing. But I don't believe you would have spoken against your brother if you were not angry and unhappy, and for this reason, I feel I ought to caution you. Would you care to hear me out?"
For an answer, she closes her eyes tightly, holds a breath, and nods.
"I'd like you to consider this a first glimpse of how dangerous anger can be. I see strength in you, it reminds me of your mother, and your great-grandfather. But if you cannot master this anger of yours, it will destroy all that you have. I can tell you from experience, from people I have seen before, that this is only the beginning of what you and those around you could suffer. I am not exaggerating at all, when I tell you it is already endangering your soul."
As he speaks, her eyes open gradually, fixed on the floor between them. She is listening, with a kind of desperate, powerful intensity, and seeing this, Watanuki knows he was right to speak.
"I feel now....that Ryou sacrificed himself to save me. I was so furious back then, because it seemed like he had whatever he wanted. He already had someone he loved, I knew it. And....Kiyoshi's friend, he never even looked at me, he was just....fixated on Ryou. I didn't realize that was a bad thing. All I wanted, was for someone to stop looking at him, and look at me."
When she glances back up to him, her eyes are hard and dark, and seeing her struggling with all her might to hold her brokenness together, Watanuki's heart goes out to her. Even moreso, when she draws herself up and speaks steadily to him.
"I didn't know that the person Ryou loves, he's never told them. He just said so, yesterday. And even though he tried to tell me, many times, that Kiyoshi's friend wasn't good, I wouldn't listen. It could easily have been me who was hurt, instead of him. Considering how I've acted, maybe it should have been. But now. If giving up my voice, means that Ryou won't lose his chance to share his feelings, with the person he cares for, then that is right. It's fair, and I'm glad to do it."
Watanuki thinks he might want to hug her, if the girl's fragile pride weren't all she had to hang onto right now. "You're a good person, Shiori-san. And even with what you're losing, you can still do good. I truly hope you remember this. Even when your loss seems like a punishment. Please try to remember, that you can still do good in your life."
She gives a sharp, brief nod of acknowledgment, and then bows low before him. "Please help my brother, Watanuki-sama. Please do your best, and bring him back to us."
**
And then they are gone. Off for home, to wait on the fast-approaching rift in their lives; the final break between what always was, and what is yet to become of them. Watanuki has the bottle from Jorougumo, he has the charms he will use, and he has Ryou's medal, wrapped around his wrist like a monk's beads.
All that's left is to discover what his own price will be, and as sometimes happens, it seems he won't know until the moment's at hand. He had initially believed he could repay the measure of blood which Shizuka had given him all those years ago. But given Ryou's hospital treatment, a transfusion won't be necessary. And more importantly, there is a strong chance Watanuki's blood in particular could react in an unfavorable way with the substance offered by Jorougumo.
There is still something he will have to offer, besides wish-brokering and counsel, to bring Ryou back whole. But he will have to be alert to seize the moment when it comes to hand. This time, he absolutely must not fail to see clearly, for Ryou.
Since Mugetsu is already out, Watanuki leaves him in charge of guarding the shop, before he settles himself back on the chaise, taking a moment to center himself, before he lights Yuuko's kiseru once more.
**
When he finds himself blinking around the beige walls of the hospital room, Watanuki allows himself one small breath of relief. It's never a sure thing, trying to reach places in the real world he hasn't seen before, but it seems that luckily his tie to Ryou has proven strong enough to bring him directly to this room.
It is not the bare, antiseptic place he'd expected. There are certainly enough machines over by the bed, humming and blinking away. But the recessed fixtures are turned low, casting thin light and shadows through the room, and the overall ambiance is restful. The only other light comes from a reading lamp, casting a golden pool over a comfortable-looking chair, where a man is currently sleeping sitting up. He must have dozed off recently, as his fingers are still curled between the pages of a cloth-bound book in his lap.
This would be Doumeki Takuma, then. As he's taking the steps to Ryou's bedside, Watanuki briefly notes that the man looks older than he'd expected. Straight silver hair, reading glasses slid halfway down his nose. His face is lined with age, but mild; he may have looked a great deal like his son Kiyoshi, when he was younger. Watanuki can't help but wonder briefly, whether this man understands anything that's going on--behind the scenes, so to speak--with his son.
And then he's there, at Ryou's bedside, and no longer has any excuse to look away.
This is where all the stark white in the room is, it is all concentrated on this one bed. White sheet, pulled up to the young man's chest, swathes of white gauze around his head, like a turban; bandages on his arms, peeking out from the collar of his hospital gown, a faded blue checker pattern, the only color at all here. Ryou's skin hardly stands out, so pale, except for the glaring purple bruises on his cheek, his arms, the dark violet shadows ringing his closed eyes.
Only belatedly does Watanuki think to appreciate his luck; Ryou at least isn't on a ventilator. He has I.V. drips taped to his arms, an oxygen tube at his nose. Various wires attached to his skin, presumably leading to all those machines monitoring him. But at least he's breathing on his own, and surely that's a good sign, oh please let it be a good sign, and now Watanuki really needs to get a grip on himself, because if he doesn't he's going to shatter where he stands, and be no good at all to anyone.
Breathe. Pay attention. He has work to do, here. There are people who have knowingly sacrificed themselves, so that he would come here and do what's needed. He cannot be broken by the scene before him, he must set that aside and act.
"Ryou-san," he says quietly, glancing to the sleeping father, to see whether he'll stir. He doesn't, and so Watanuki sits on the edge of the bed, and reaches for Ryou's cool white hand.
"Ryou-san, it's time for you to wake up. If you can hear me, then listen. I'm here to bring you back."
There's no response, and Watanuki hadn't expected any, yet. With his free hand, he reaches into the sleeve of his tunic, and pulls out the two silk scraps he'd cut earlier. They feel denser, heavier in his hand now, and concentrating on them, he can sense a faint tugging sensation, as with a paperclip brought near a magnet. This is good, this means they're seeking their other halves, and should work as he'd intended.
He ties both the scraps around Ryou's left wrist, just as he'd done to Kiyoshi and Shiori earlier. In a moment he will awaken the charms, but now it's time to use the spiders' gift first.
"I hope you'll forgive me for this," he murmurs reluctantly, before fishing the small glass bottle out from the front opening of his tunic, similar to how Jorougumo had done. He'd reasoned that if she had been able to transport it through the shop's barriers that way, then he should be able to travel here with it as well. Over his heart; from a certain bizarre point of view (this was Hitsuzen for you, in a nutshell), it was fitting.
"For the record, this was not my idea. And if this kills me, I apologize ahead of time for failing." This last is more a grim joke than anything. The spider matron is far to canny to bring down the world of chaos and disaster which would result from killing him. Besides, he imagines she would much rather keep him alive, and go on amusing herself at his expense for ages to come.
At least he fervently hopes so.
"You'll have to bear with me, I didn't get very clear instructions on how this is supposed to work," he mentions to Ryou. He's aware he's stalling, but that doesn't make his excuse any less true. A kiss with intent, is what Jorougumo had told him, but what does that even mean? He's never kissed anyone with intent, he's only ever been kissed by people intent on teasing him, how on earth is he supposed to know how to....
Oh. Right. Oh good god, this is supposed to be his price?
He sees the bottle is shaking before he registers that actually it's his hand, trembling with nerves. Because he is a hundred and seven and Ryou is sixteen; because Ryou trusts him, and Ryou's mother trusts him, and Ryou's father is sitting right over there. Even worse to contemplate, there is someone else out there, someone Ryou must have been saving his first kiss for, such things are tremendously important at his age, and bloody hell there is so much that is so wrong with this, that Watanuki can't even line it all up in proper order so he can panic over it.
Insane, that's what this is. Insane, and wrong, and completely unreasonable. And as soon as he next sees Jorougumo he's going to rake her over the coals, because he knows, he is one hundred percent positive that wherever she is, she is enjoying this far too much.
But insane or not, it doesn't change a damned thing. Ryou is lying here next to him in a coma. And in his stubborn grip, Watanuki holds the means for bringing him out. There are no other options, there is no other choice he can see. He needs to figure out this issue of intent, and he needs to do it now.
He takes a breath, presses his hands to his lap so they'll be still, and makes himself look, really look closely, at Ryou.
"What do I do with you?" he asks, trying to work the problem out aloud. "My intent. What is it I want from you?" Ryou's family want him back because they love him. He is their brother, their son. But what is he to Watanuki?
"You're my friend, you know that. And you remind me, so much, of people I've loved. But I've seen you grow up. You were remarkable when I first met you, and now I'm seeing you on your way to becoming someone extraordinary--."
Had he known, he now wonders, that he had loved Haruka, and Shizuka, back when they were around? He knew it afterwards, he knew it in retrospect. But had he truly been cognizant of it, at the time he'd known them?
Maybe on the night Shizuka had brought that cupcake, for his birthday. Maybe the time they were bickering, because Shizuka started something over some spots on his beer glass, and five minutes into some stern words Watanuki caught the edge of a merry gleam in Shizuka's eye and it was so startling that he went dead silent. And then burst out laughing, himself.
Maybe that time Haruka had stayed for hours, teaching Watanuki his favorite bawdy drinking songs on shamisen. Or any of a few dozen other times, really.
Point being....well, what was the point, in admitting he'd loved someone after they were dead? Honestly, what good did it do anyone, to wait until it was much too late to let them know?
"The problem," he supposes aloud, "is that I'm already promised to someone. I've been waiting for Yuuko-san. I'm still waiting. This doesn't mean I can't love other people. But they....you, aren't the reason I'm still here. And how is that fair to you? Or anyone else? You will grow up, you'll become old someday. Just like Shizuka and Kohane-chan. Just like your mother. And I won't. I'll always be like this, every year the same, while you change."
It is a curious thing, to unburden himself like this, to someone sleeping. He's never had the occasion to do this, and its been years upon years since he felt safe trusting anyone with his deepest conflicts. His burdens have been his alone, to carry alone, as part of his price.
Or so he's always felt, up until this moment, actually.
"If it's really your purpose to keep me company," he tells Ryou, now considering that most recent discussion. "If that is something you've been set on all this time, then I can't think it would be right of me, to refuse you. And there's the issue of your promise to come back, don't think I've forgotten that."
Now he lifts the bottle again, hand steadier now, and works the stopper loose. "If this works by intent, then my intent....is to see you fulfill your purpose. And keep your promises. You have so much yet to do in this world, Ryou-san. And I intend, with all my heart, to see you do it."
He tilts the bottle toward Ryou, "Cheers," and then tips it up to his lips. Two drops and the bottle is empty, but it seems this is plenty; there is a brief, hot buzzing sensation, and then his mouth goes numb. He has a moment to hope this is daring enough to suit Jorougumo, and then he swiftly bends down to deliver the kiss, before the venom incapacitates him.
Come back, he thinks, willing it fiercely, as he presses his lips against Ryou's. Wake up, so you can move forward with this life of yours. Wake up and find the person you love, and tell them, because life goes so fast and every day you have is precious. Come back to your family, come back to me, come back to this world because it needs you, your purpose here is so important.
He can't feel his mouth, or half his face, and he has no idea if this is working, if it's enough. He presses his palms gently to Ryou's cheek, his jaw, as if he could pull the conscious living presence of him up through the skin, and he ransacks his knowledge, memories, every technique he's used, every trick, every wild-ass spur of the moment invention.
In a brief flash of hysterical desperation, he thinks it figures that his first kiss, probably the only kiss he will ever give anyone, would be such an awkward travesty. Kissing someone unconscious, unable to even feel if he's touching their lips; though at least if this kiss is the most awful in the history of kisses, neither of them will ever really know....
And that's it. That's what does it for him.
He cannot, after all the years he's endured alone, and finally being given any reason at all to kiss another person--any remotely acceptable person--allow this one and possibly only kiss he gives to disappear into ignominy. For whatever the value of this, whatever it may stand for, it at least should be something worth remembering.
Spurred by this conviction, Watanuki stops thinking, and starts meaning it. He may not be able to feel with his mouth, but closing his eyes, he can feel with his hands, the soft contour of Ryou's cheek, and he can brush his thumb at the corner of Ryou's lips. He can feel his breath puffing out against Ryou's skin, the astonishing nearness thrumming in the small space between them.
Is it like this for everyone? This breathless, dizzy awareness of another person, this extreme personal closeness, the terrifying sense of his own vulnerability....his pulse is throbbing in his throat, his ears, but when he sees the colored spots bursting behind his eyelids, he thinks of the venom, and that he must be running out of time.
Reaching over blindly, he puts one hand over Ryou's wrist, feeling for the charms, willing them to life, freeing them to take what he's assigned them--Ryou's fated silence, his infirmity--and return to their other halves. Somewhere far off, he thinks a bell is chiming, this dizziness is getting sickening, and he feels his whole existence, his awareness, being dragged away by some inexorable heavy force.
Still he fights, until the last possible moment, holding on with all that he is, until a violent shove and jolt, and he bolts up in furious despair, no he can't be thrown back to the shop now, no no no...
And then he opens his eyes.
On a pair of amber eyes, shocked wide open.
And for several long seconds, all he and Ryou can do, is stare at each other.
*****
Next Part
Author's Notes:
1. You can see the Obi-age in use at This Link, which is also a handy picture guide for if you ever need to tie an obi. Just don't believe what that author says about it being easy. Sure it looks easy enough. But my first attempt at a basic taiko obi took about an hour, and a lot of profanity (in between gasping for air, because kimono are not for breathing in) and the whole thing still looked funky when I was done.
2. This chapter has some kanji geekery going on, and it horked up the flow of the story to define it in the scene, but I didn't want to leave folks totally adrift there. Basically, going by the dictionaries I used, Suijaku as Watanuki writes it, may be defined as weakness, debility, breakdown, prostration. And Damaru indicates mute, tacit, silent. There's an alternate reading of the Damaru character: Moku, which more specifically means tacit.
Honestly it kinda blows my mind that people actually learn to read Japanese. (Although I did think the Suijaku character was really cool, since part of it resembles the character for Yumi, but with what appears to me like a breakage in it.)
14.
"We don't have a great deal of time, so please forgive me for being blunt," Watanuki tells the Doumekis now re-assembled in the rear parlor.
"As I've warned you, the prices for your request will be quite high, due to the difficulty involved. From what I've learned of Ryou-san's current condition, the chances of him waking on his own are not good. And if he does awaken, he will be severely impaired, possibly for life. He will have difficulty with sight and speech. He will be unable to walk, unable to do many things for himself. In short, if he wakes, he will not be the person you once knew."
Here he pauses, giving Haruka a moment to press her hands over her eyes, and collect herself. It is a longish moment, and at the end, she brings her palms together, fingers tipped to her forehead, lips moving in a brief prayer.
Then she opens her eyes on him. "What can be done, then?"
"The price, for Shiori-san, will be her ability to speak. For Kiyoshi-san, the use of his legs."
Here he stops, not for them, but for himself. Because this is the most terrible, most excruciating part of granting requests; being forced to examine the severed edges left by the surgical exactness of fate. Shiori had spoken the words which led to this crisis, and now must pay accordingly. Kiyoshi's fault was in failing to move, to act on what he had seen coming. His failure too, is now his price.
And though he cannot show it, must not show it, Watanuki has been bleeding inside, ever since these sentences entered his mind, whispered to him by that distant knowing, acquired through years of errors and injuries, and the suffering he'd caused those around him, when they had to see him bear the outstanding costs.
He no longer stints on those costs, not even the worst ones. Yet in instances like this, his heart hurts just as much as if a piece had been torn out of it, to balance the accounts.
However, at least in this respect, Ryou's siblings do their family proud. There are no gasps of shock, no tears. Shiori reaches over and takes her mother's hand, a look of grim silent acknowledgment passing between them. Kiyoshi flattens his palms on the table, staring at the wood beneath, and pulls in a deep breath.
"And my brother. What will he have to pay?" In answer to the looks from Haruka and Shiori, he adds, "Watanuki-sama said our prices wouldn't be enough. Who else is there, but Ryou?"
"I still--," Haruka begins, but Watanuki raises a hand, shaking his head.
"My apologies, Haruka-chan. But you've done all I'm able to permit. Ryou-san's price will be time."
Haruka slumps back, hand over her mouth, and Shiori frowns between them. "What does that mean, time?"
"It may not be as much as Haruka-chan fears right now. Where Ryou-san has gone--the place he must be brought back from--will still influence him for awhile. There is a danger he could be lost to that place again, until he regains his full strength. Staying in this shop, under my protection, would be the safest situation for him, during that period. Once he's stronger, he can go back home. However I'll still require his services after that. For chores and errands, things I'm unable to do myself, until his debt to the shop is paid off."
Slowly, Haruka's fingers slip down, curling at her chin. "For....can I ask, how long his debt will last?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know that yet," Watanuki tells her. "Perhaps in the future, I'll be able to estimate. If he were to stay here full-time, I imagine it would be a shorter term. But Ryou-san should finish school, and go on to college if he wishes. As much as possible, he still deserves a normal life. So he will be a part-timer here, just as I was for awhile."
Once the prices have been explained, and formally accepted (with Haruka consenting on Ryou's behalf), Watanuki must make them binding. He takes a lavender-colored silk obi-age from his own collection, and a special pair of cutting shears from the storeroom. While Haruka, Shiori, and Kiyoshi watch, he cuts the crinkled silk in half, with regular sewing scissors, making this the first miscellaneous item to go on Ryou's debt account.
After preparing his calligraphy kit, with the ink and brush he normally only uses for notes sent to Ame-Warashi and those of her ilk, he draws a character on each of the silk pieces.
On the first, he writes
Suijaku
On the second:
Damaru
While waiting for the ink to dry, he explains his purpose. "Doumeki Kiyoshi, Doumeki Shiori," looking to each of them in turn. "You will leave here wearing half of a charm. The one reading Damaru, will go to Shiori-san. This one that says Suijaku, Kiyoshi-san will wear. When the wish is complete, you will see these whole again, and your prices will be taken."
That said, he takes each scrap of silk, and cuts it in half down the center, with the shears from the storeroom, since anything cut with these particular shears retains its connection to the original whole. So he will give them each half of their charm, and the other halves he will take to Ryou. Through this means, Ryou's loss of speech and loss of mobility will be transferred to his siblings.
"You may or may not choose to believe me," he tells them, as he ties their halves of the charm to their left wrists. "But this price is not a punishment from me. Just as I cannot forgive you, it is not my place to judge you either. If there is any sentence here, it comes from the balance demanded by nature, not from me personally. I would never willingly harm either of you, or any member of your family."
"We understand," Kiyoshi nods to him, though he glances at his bound wrist with certain dread. "I can live with this one thing, if it means my brother doesn't have to live with all of it."
"It's more than fair," Shiori puts in, but there is a brittle tautness about her which concerns Watanuki, and for this reason he asks her alone to walk with him, when he returns the shears to the storeroom.
She follows him in silence, waits outside while he ducks in to place the shears in their box on the shelf, and once he steps out and closes the door behind him, he addresses her.
"Shiori-san, I'm aware that your price is very high. And because of that, because you are paying it on behalf of another person, I am able to offer you some advice, if you would hear it."
"Even if I don't deserve it?" She stands rigid, head down and hands clasped tightly behind her back.
"You did a deeply regrettable thing. But I don't believe you would have spoken against your brother if you were not angry and unhappy, and for this reason, I feel I ought to caution you. Would you care to hear me out?"
For an answer, she closes her eyes tightly, holds a breath, and nods.
"I'd like you to consider this a first glimpse of how dangerous anger can be. I see strength in you, it reminds me of your mother, and your great-grandfather. But if you cannot master this anger of yours, it will destroy all that you have. I can tell you from experience, from people I have seen before, that this is only the beginning of what you and those around you could suffer. I am not exaggerating at all, when I tell you it is already endangering your soul."
As he speaks, her eyes open gradually, fixed on the floor between them. She is listening, with a kind of desperate, powerful intensity, and seeing this, Watanuki knows he was right to speak.
"I feel now....that Ryou sacrificed himself to save me. I was so furious back then, because it seemed like he had whatever he wanted. He already had someone he loved, I knew it. And....Kiyoshi's friend, he never even looked at me, he was just....fixated on Ryou. I didn't realize that was a bad thing. All I wanted, was for someone to stop looking at him, and look at me."
When she glances back up to him, her eyes are hard and dark, and seeing her struggling with all her might to hold her brokenness together, Watanuki's heart goes out to her. Even moreso, when she draws herself up and speaks steadily to him.
"I didn't know that the person Ryou loves, he's never told them. He just said so, yesterday. And even though he tried to tell me, many times, that Kiyoshi's friend wasn't good, I wouldn't listen. It could easily have been me who was hurt, instead of him. Considering how I've acted, maybe it should have been. But now. If giving up my voice, means that Ryou won't lose his chance to share his feelings, with the person he cares for, then that is right. It's fair, and I'm glad to do it."
Watanuki thinks he might want to hug her, if the girl's fragile pride weren't all she had to hang onto right now. "You're a good person, Shiori-san. And even with what you're losing, you can still do good. I truly hope you remember this. Even when your loss seems like a punishment. Please try to remember, that you can still do good in your life."
She gives a sharp, brief nod of acknowledgment, and then bows low before him. "Please help my brother, Watanuki-sama. Please do your best, and bring him back to us."
**
And then they are gone. Off for home, to wait on the fast-approaching rift in their lives; the final break between what always was, and what is yet to become of them. Watanuki has the bottle from Jorougumo, he has the charms he will use, and he has Ryou's medal, wrapped around his wrist like a monk's beads.
All that's left is to discover what his own price will be, and as sometimes happens, it seems he won't know until the moment's at hand. He had initially believed he could repay the measure of blood which Shizuka had given him all those years ago. But given Ryou's hospital treatment, a transfusion won't be necessary. And more importantly, there is a strong chance Watanuki's blood in particular could react in an unfavorable way with the substance offered by Jorougumo.
There is still something he will have to offer, besides wish-brokering and counsel, to bring Ryou back whole. But he will have to be alert to seize the moment when it comes to hand. This time, he absolutely must not fail to see clearly, for Ryou.
Since Mugetsu is already out, Watanuki leaves him in charge of guarding the shop, before he settles himself back on the chaise, taking a moment to center himself, before he lights Yuuko's kiseru once more.
**
When he finds himself blinking around the beige walls of the hospital room, Watanuki allows himself one small breath of relief. It's never a sure thing, trying to reach places in the real world he hasn't seen before, but it seems that luckily his tie to Ryou has proven strong enough to bring him directly to this room.
It is not the bare, antiseptic place he'd expected. There are certainly enough machines over by the bed, humming and blinking away. But the recessed fixtures are turned low, casting thin light and shadows through the room, and the overall ambiance is restful. The only other light comes from a reading lamp, casting a golden pool over a comfortable-looking chair, where a man is currently sleeping sitting up. He must have dozed off recently, as his fingers are still curled between the pages of a cloth-bound book in his lap.
This would be Doumeki Takuma, then. As he's taking the steps to Ryou's bedside, Watanuki briefly notes that the man looks older than he'd expected. Straight silver hair, reading glasses slid halfway down his nose. His face is lined with age, but mild; he may have looked a great deal like his son Kiyoshi, when he was younger. Watanuki can't help but wonder briefly, whether this man understands anything that's going on--behind the scenes, so to speak--with his son.
And then he's there, at Ryou's bedside, and no longer has any excuse to look away.
This is where all the stark white in the room is, it is all concentrated on this one bed. White sheet, pulled up to the young man's chest, swathes of white gauze around his head, like a turban; bandages on his arms, peeking out from the collar of his hospital gown, a faded blue checker pattern, the only color at all here. Ryou's skin hardly stands out, so pale, except for the glaring purple bruises on his cheek, his arms, the dark violet shadows ringing his closed eyes.
Only belatedly does Watanuki think to appreciate his luck; Ryou at least isn't on a ventilator. He has I.V. drips taped to his arms, an oxygen tube at his nose. Various wires attached to his skin, presumably leading to all those machines monitoring him. But at least he's breathing on his own, and surely that's a good sign, oh please let it be a good sign, and now Watanuki really needs to get a grip on himself, because if he doesn't he's going to shatter where he stands, and be no good at all to anyone.
Breathe. Pay attention. He has work to do, here. There are people who have knowingly sacrificed themselves, so that he would come here and do what's needed. He cannot be broken by the scene before him, he must set that aside and act.
"Ryou-san," he says quietly, glancing to the sleeping father, to see whether he'll stir. He doesn't, and so Watanuki sits on the edge of the bed, and reaches for Ryou's cool white hand.
"Ryou-san, it's time for you to wake up. If you can hear me, then listen. I'm here to bring you back."
There's no response, and Watanuki hadn't expected any, yet. With his free hand, he reaches into the sleeve of his tunic, and pulls out the two silk scraps he'd cut earlier. They feel denser, heavier in his hand now, and concentrating on them, he can sense a faint tugging sensation, as with a paperclip brought near a magnet. This is good, this means they're seeking their other halves, and should work as he'd intended.
He ties both the scraps around Ryou's left wrist, just as he'd done to Kiyoshi and Shiori earlier. In a moment he will awaken the charms, but now it's time to use the spiders' gift first.
"I hope you'll forgive me for this," he murmurs reluctantly, before fishing the small glass bottle out from the front opening of his tunic, similar to how Jorougumo had done. He'd reasoned that if she had been able to transport it through the shop's barriers that way, then he should be able to travel here with it as well. Over his heart; from a certain bizarre point of view (this was Hitsuzen for you, in a nutshell), it was fitting.
"For the record, this was not my idea. And if this kills me, I apologize ahead of time for failing." This last is more a grim joke than anything. The spider matron is far to canny to bring down the world of chaos and disaster which would result from killing him. Besides, he imagines she would much rather keep him alive, and go on amusing herself at his expense for ages to come.
At least he fervently hopes so.
"You'll have to bear with me, I didn't get very clear instructions on how this is supposed to work," he mentions to Ryou. He's aware he's stalling, but that doesn't make his excuse any less true. A kiss with intent, is what Jorougumo had told him, but what does that even mean? He's never kissed anyone with intent, he's only ever been kissed by people intent on teasing him, how on earth is he supposed to know how to....
Oh. Right. Oh good god, this is supposed to be his price?
He sees the bottle is shaking before he registers that actually it's his hand, trembling with nerves. Because he is a hundred and seven and Ryou is sixteen; because Ryou trusts him, and Ryou's mother trusts him, and Ryou's father is sitting right over there. Even worse to contemplate, there is someone else out there, someone Ryou must have been saving his first kiss for, such things are tremendously important at his age, and bloody hell there is so much that is so wrong with this, that Watanuki can't even line it all up in proper order so he can panic over it.
Insane, that's what this is. Insane, and wrong, and completely unreasonable. And as soon as he next sees Jorougumo he's going to rake her over the coals, because he knows, he is one hundred percent positive that wherever she is, she is enjoying this far too much.
But insane or not, it doesn't change a damned thing. Ryou is lying here next to him in a coma. And in his stubborn grip, Watanuki holds the means for bringing him out. There are no other options, there is no other choice he can see. He needs to figure out this issue of intent, and he needs to do it now.
He takes a breath, presses his hands to his lap so they'll be still, and makes himself look, really look closely, at Ryou.
"What do I do with you?" he asks, trying to work the problem out aloud. "My intent. What is it I want from you?" Ryou's family want him back because they love him. He is their brother, their son. But what is he to Watanuki?
"You're my friend, you know that. And you remind me, so much, of people I've loved. But I've seen you grow up. You were remarkable when I first met you, and now I'm seeing you on your way to becoming someone extraordinary--."
Had he known, he now wonders, that he had loved Haruka, and Shizuka, back when they were around? He knew it afterwards, he knew it in retrospect. But had he truly been cognizant of it, at the time he'd known them?
Maybe on the night Shizuka had brought that cupcake, for his birthday. Maybe the time they were bickering, because Shizuka started something over some spots on his beer glass, and five minutes into some stern words Watanuki caught the edge of a merry gleam in Shizuka's eye and it was so startling that he went dead silent. And then burst out laughing, himself.
Maybe that time Haruka had stayed for hours, teaching Watanuki his favorite bawdy drinking songs on shamisen. Or any of a few dozen other times, really.
Point being....well, what was the point, in admitting he'd loved someone after they were dead? Honestly, what good did it do anyone, to wait until it was much too late to let them know?
"The problem," he supposes aloud, "is that I'm already promised to someone. I've been waiting for Yuuko-san. I'm still waiting. This doesn't mean I can't love other people. But they....you, aren't the reason I'm still here. And how is that fair to you? Or anyone else? You will grow up, you'll become old someday. Just like Shizuka and Kohane-chan. Just like your mother. And I won't. I'll always be like this, every year the same, while you change."
It is a curious thing, to unburden himself like this, to someone sleeping. He's never had the occasion to do this, and its been years upon years since he felt safe trusting anyone with his deepest conflicts. His burdens have been his alone, to carry alone, as part of his price.
Or so he's always felt, up until this moment, actually.
"If it's really your purpose to keep me company," he tells Ryou, now considering that most recent discussion. "If that is something you've been set on all this time, then I can't think it would be right of me, to refuse you. And there's the issue of your promise to come back, don't think I've forgotten that."
Now he lifts the bottle again, hand steadier now, and works the stopper loose. "If this works by intent, then my intent....is to see you fulfill your purpose. And keep your promises. You have so much yet to do in this world, Ryou-san. And I intend, with all my heart, to see you do it."
He tilts the bottle toward Ryou, "Cheers," and then tips it up to his lips. Two drops and the bottle is empty, but it seems this is plenty; there is a brief, hot buzzing sensation, and then his mouth goes numb. He has a moment to hope this is daring enough to suit Jorougumo, and then he swiftly bends down to deliver the kiss, before the venom incapacitates him.
Come back, he thinks, willing it fiercely, as he presses his lips against Ryou's. Wake up, so you can move forward with this life of yours. Wake up and find the person you love, and tell them, because life goes so fast and every day you have is precious. Come back to your family, come back to me, come back to this world because it needs you, your purpose here is so important.
He can't feel his mouth, or half his face, and he has no idea if this is working, if it's enough. He presses his palms gently to Ryou's cheek, his jaw, as if he could pull the conscious living presence of him up through the skin, and he ransacks his knowledge, memories, every technique he's used, every trick, every wild-ass spur of the moment invention.
In a brief flash of hysterical desperation, he thinks it figures that his first kiss, probably the only kiss he will ever give anyone, would be such an awkward travesty. Kissing someone unconscious, unable to even feel if he's touching their lips; though at least if this kiss is the most awful in the history of kisses, neither of them will ever really know....
And that's it. That's what does it for him.
He cannot, after all the years he's endured alone, and finally being given any reason at all to kiss another person--any remotely acceptable person--allow this one and possibly only kiss he gives to disappear into ignominy. For whatever the value of this, whatever it may stand for, it at least should be something worth remembering.
Spurred by this conviction, Watanuki stops thinking, and starts meaning it. He may not be able to feel with his mouth, but closing his eyes, he can feel with his hands, the soft contour of Ryou's cheek, and he can brush his thumb at the corner of Ryou's lips. He can feel his breath puffing out against Ryou's skin, the astonishing nearness thrumming in the small space between them.
Is it like this for everyone? This breathless, dizzy awareness of another person, this extreme personal closeness, the terrifying sense of his own vulnerability....his pulse is throbbing in his throat, his ears, but when he sees the colored spots bursting behind his eyelids, he thinks of the venom, and that he must be running out of time.
Reaching over blindly, he puts one hand over Ryou's wrist, feeling for the charms, willing them to life, freeing them to take what he's assigned them--Ryou's fated silence, his infirmity--and return to their other halves. Somewhere far off, he thinks a bell is chiming, this dizziness is getting sickening, and he feels his whole existence, his awareness, being dragged away by some inexorable heavy force.
Still he fights, until the last possible moment, holding on with all that he is, until a violent shove and jolt, and he bolts up in furious despair, no he can't be thrown back to the shop now, no no no...
And then he opens his eyes.
On a pair of amber eyes, shocked wide open.
And for several long seconds, all he and Ryou can do, is stare at each other.
*****
Next Part
Author's Notes:
1. You can see the Obi-age in use at This Link, which is also a handy picture guide for if you ever need to tie an obi. Just don't believe what that author says about it being easy. Sure it looks easy enough. But my first attempt at a basic taiko obi took about an hour, and a lot of profanity (in between gasping for air, because kimono are not for breathing in) and the whole thing still looked funky when I was done.
2. This chapter has some kanji geekery going on, and it horked up the flow of the story to define it in the scene, but I didn't want to leave folks totally adrift there. Basically, going by the dictionaries I used, Suijaku as Watanuki writes it, may be defined as weakness, debility, breakdown, prostration. And Damaru indicates mute, tacit, silent. There's an alternate reading of the Damaru character: Moku, which more specifically means tacit.
Honestly it kinda blows my mind that people actually learn to read Japanese. (Although I did think the Suijaku character was really cool, since part of it resembles the character for Yumi, but with what appears to me like a breakage in it.)