Red Strings
Title: Red Strings
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki (Characters by CLAMP)
Warnings: None
Notes: Part of my High School AU...though this one somehow veered away from silly and into some weird, uncharted territory that will be further explored in the future.
He wouldn’t admit it, but he liked seeing it very much. The red that was not quite like any other red in the world, the way it remained completely unaffected by anything they did.
Watanuki had been able to see the red strings for as long as he could remember. He had been quite surprised the first time he’d touched real thread from his mother’s sewing box, surprised that he could feel it. The thread that bound his parents was as solid as the air, never hampering them and never getting tangled on anyone or anything.
There had always been a string on his own finger, one that trailed away, no end in sight. He didn’t know where it led, but the fact that it was there was comforting, somehow.
He knew seeing the strings wasn’t normal, and he’d even learned to unsee them. He thought about them less and less as the months went by until he one day realized he hadn’t seen a string in years.
Watanuki had stopped seeing them before he’d started school, and as he made friends with other children who couldn’t see intangible bonds of fate, he had no desire to change that. He’d almost forgotten that they were real by the time he’d reached high school. High school, where he excelled, where he was always neat and clean in his uniform, with the ever-present Doumeki at his side.
Doumeki. He’d met the other boy his very first day of school. They walked the same route to school, and had met that way, two small boys at their mother’s heels. Ever since, Doumeki had just always been there, which was both infuriating and comforting at once. As a result, when one of the teachers asked to speak to Watanuki alone, he felt both relieved and anxious to watch Doumeki walk away.
Ichihara sat behind her desk, a pleasant smile on her face. At the sight of this smile, Watanuki tensed up. When she gestured at the seat across from her, Watanuki considered refusing. In the end, however, good manners won and he sat.
“Watanuki Kimihiro.” Each syllable seemed to be savoured as she looked at him, eyes taking him in. Watanuki leaned back in his chair. “Well, Watanuki, you’re one of our more interesting students, aren’t you?”
“Eh? In what way?”
“I believe you’re the only one who can see those.” She looked at his hands. Watanuki did so as well. They were clasped in his lap, and he failed to see anything particularly astonishing about his ability to see them. He looked back up at her, uncertain how to deal with a teacher who was so very clearly odd.
“My…hands…?”
She laughed. “No, no. The red string. You do see the red strings, don’t you?”
Watanuki was shocked into silence for the briefest moment, then remembered who he was and that his natural reaction to shock (and most other emotions) was volume. “How do you know that?! No one,…I mean, I don’t…”
“You do, and never mind how I know. After all, I have access to all your school records, don’t I?”
“My records?! That’s not in my records! That’s not the sort of thing they put in there!”
“Oh? You’d be surprised. “ She stretched in her seat, smiled at Watanuki. “Now, Watanuki, the thing is, seeing those red strings is very, very rare. It would also save me a lot of trouble if you’d help me by telling me who’s tied to whom by those strings of fate.”
“Why would I do that? That’s…isn’t that very…well, private?”
Ichihara smiled. This time, it comforted Watanuki. It was a kind smile. “Yes. I suppose it is very private. Still, there are reasons why I should know about them. Do you know of Hitsuzen, Watanuki Kimihiro? Hitsuzen is a naturally fore-ordained event. A state in which other outcomes are impossible. A result which can only be obtained by a single causality, and other causalities would necessarily create different results.”
“What does that have to do with…?”
“You coming to this school and having the ability to see those strings is Hitsuzen. You see, everyone who comes to this school is bound by those red strings. And every connection is crucial. Ensuring that all goes well in this world enables things to go well in others.”
“This world?!”
“Yes. Maybe saying that was a bit much. However, if you can tell me who is bound to who in this world, I can make sure that things will go well. Of course, you would get something in return. Or, I should say, you’ll lose something in return.”
Watanuki felt hope, small and fragile in his chest, like a glass ball.
“…the…the masks?”
“Yes. If you help me, I can make those masks disappear from your sight. And I promise you, Watanuki, whatever you tell me of the strings is confidential.”
Watanuki swallowed. He trusted her. It was insane, doubtless Doumeki would make him feel like an idiot for it…but he did.
“I’ll do it.”
“Excellent,” Ichihara sang, jumping to her feet. “All you have to do is keep your eyes open…or keep your sight open, rather, and let me know when you see two people who are connected.”
“Alright.” Watanuki stood. “Wait…” he looked down at his hand, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he opened his eyes again, he saw his thread, trailing away to who knew where. He glanced at Ichihara, who waved stringless fingers cheerfully.
“You’ll never see mine, Watanuki. Sorry. But you have yours, don’t you? Do you know where it leads?”
“No.” He frowned. “Do you?”
“Yes, I do. I had to do some background research, you see. Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”
Watanuki walked through the hallways, lost in thought. His eyes followed his string idly as he dared to hope that Ichihara was telling the truth. If she could keep him from seeing the masks of death…he’d be free. He would never find himself speaking to someone he knew would soon be dead, never be able to see the arcane symbols that foretold their end. He watched his string wind along before him, a happy symbol, a good kind of fate. If he could help by seeing these strings and lose the masks at the same time…he felt the fragile glass of hope inside him resonate with Ichihara’s words. It felt true. It felt good. He smiled to himself, then yelped when a sudden voice disturbed him.
“What did she want?” Doumeki was waiting for him, arms crossed and casual, at the school’s entrance. His impassive gold eyes were trained on Watanuki.
“She wanted to tell me how impressed she is by me. How I’m such a good…” his voice trailed away as he suddenly realized what he was looking at. His red string. Their red string, as apparently he and Doumeki shared one. He was tied to Doumeki. Forever.
While the thought of being with Doumeki had first occurred long ago, and had long been accepted and even welcomed a little, seeing the absolute proof of their bond rocked Watanuki to his core.
He was startled out of his realization by strong hands on his arms. “Oi. Watanuki.”
“Eh?” He looked up into golden eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” Watanuki pushed Doumeki away. Doumeki allowed himself to be pushed. “Stop worrying about me, you idiot. I was only trying to think. We need to go shopping if you want lunch tomorrow.”
“You didn’t look like you were thinking.”
“Oh? What are you trying to say?!” Watanuki watched Doumeki ignore him and watched the string that stretched between them. Maybe that was why he’d never bothered to check to see where his string went. He’d met Doumeki so long ago, and Doumeki had been there ever since. He hadn’t felt concern over where his string led because he’d found the answer years ago and it just…felt…right. As they began to walk away from the school together, he knew that in the future, he’d probably complain, probably try to rip the string right off his finger. But he also knew it would never come off.
And he found he liked seeing it, seeing that particular red he’d never found anywhere else. He liked knowing it would remain unchanged, unaffected by anything. It would simply be there, and while Watanuki would not admit it, he liked that idea very much.
Pairing: Doumeki/Watanuki (Characters by CLAMP)
Warnings: None
Notes: Part of my High School AU...though this one somehow veered away from silly and into some weird, uncharted territory that will be further explored in the future.
He wouldn’t admit it, but he liked seeing it very much. The red that was not quite like any other red in the world, the way it remained completely unaffected by anything they did.
Watanuki had been able to see the red strings for as long as he could remember. He had been quite surprised the first time he’d touched real thread from his mother’s sewing box, surprised that he could feel it. The thread that bound his parents was as solid as the air, never hampering them and never getting tangled on anyone or anything.
There had always been a string on his own finger, one that trailed away, no end in sight. He didn’t know where it led, but the fact that it was there was comforting, somehow.
He knew seeing the strings wasn’t normal, and he’d even learned to unsee them. He thought about them less and less as the months went by until he one day realized he hadn’t seen a string in years.
Watanuki had stopped seeing them before he’d started school, and as he made friends with other children who couldn’t see intangible bonds of fate, he had no desire to change that. He’d almost forgotten that they were real by the time he’d reached high school. High school, where he excelled, where he was always neat and clean in his uniform, with the ever-present Doumeki at his side.
Doumeki. He’d met the other boy his very first day of school. They walked the same route to school, and had met that way, two small boys at their mother’s heels. Ever since, Doumeki had just always been there, which was both infuriating and comforting at once. As a result, when one of the teachers asked to speak to Watanuki alone, he felt both relieved and anxious to watch Doumeki walk away.
Ichihara sat behind her desk, a pleasant smile on her face. At the sight of this smile, Watanuki tensed up. When she gestured at the seat across from her, Watanuki considered refusing. In the end, however, good manners won and he sat.
“Watanuki Kimihiro.” Each syllable seemed to be savoured as she looked at him, eyes taking him in. Watanuki leaned back in his chair. “Well, Watanuki, you’re one of our more interesting students, aren’t you?”
“Eh? In what way?”
“I believe you’re the only one who can see those.” She looked at his hands. Watanuki did so as well. They were clasped in his lap, and he failed to see anything particularly astonishing about his ability to see them. He looked back up at her, uncertain how to deal with a teacher who was so very clearly odd.
“My…hands…?”
She laughed. “No, no. The red string. You do see the red strings, don’t you?”
Watanuki was shocked into silence for the briefest moment, then remembered who he was and that his natural reaction to shock (and most other emotions) was volume. “How do you know that?! No one,…I mean, I don’t…”
“You do, and never mind how I know. After all, I have access to all your school records, don’t I?”
“My records?! That’s not in my records! That’s not the sort of thing they put in there!”
“Oh? You’d be surprised. “ She stretched in her seat, smiled at Watanuki. “Now, Watanuki, the thing is, seeing those red strings is very, very rare. It would also save me a lot of trouble if you’d help me by telling me who’s tied to whom by those strings of fate.”
“Why would I do that? That’s…isn’t that very…well, private?”
Ichihara smiled. This time, it comforted Watanuki. It was a kind smile. “Yes. I suppose it is very private. Still, there are reasons why I should know about them. Do you know of Hitsuzen, Watanuki Kimihiro? Hitsuzen is a naturally fore-ordained event. A state in which other outcomes are impossible. A result which can only be obtained by a single causality, and other causalities would necessarily create different results.”
“What does that have to do with…?”
“You coming to this school and having the ability to see those strings is Hitsuzen. You see, everyone who comes to this school is bound by those red strings. And every connection is crucial. Ensuring that all goes well in this world enables things to go well in others.”
“This world?!”
“Yes. Maybe saying that was a bit much. However, if you can tell me who is bound to who in this world, I can make sure that things will go well. Of course, you would get something in return. Or, I should say, you’ll lose something in return.”
Watanuki felt hope, small and fragile in his chest, like a glass ball.
“…the…the masks?”
“Yes. If you help me, I can make those masks disappear from your sight. And I promise you, Watanuki, whatever you tell me of the strings is confidential.”
Watanuki swallowed. He trusted her. It was insane, doubtless Doumeki would make him feel like an idiot for it…but he did.
“I’ll do it.”
“Excellent,” Ichihara sang, jumping to her feet. “All you have to do is keep your eyes open…or keep your sight open, rather, and let me know when you see two people who are connected.”
“Alright.” Watanuki stood. “Wait…” he looked down at his hand, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he opened his eyes again, he saw his thread, trailing away to who knew where. He glanced at Ichihara, who waved stringless fingers cheerfully.
“You’ll never see mine, Watanuki. Sorry. But you have yours, don’t you? Do you know where it leads?”
“No.” He frowned. “Do you?”
“Yes, I do. I had to do some background research, you see. Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”
Watanuki walked through the hallways, lost in thought. His eyes followed his string idly as he dared to hope that Ichihara was telling the truth. If she could keep him from seeing the masks of death…he’d be free. He would never find himself speaking to someone he knew would soon be dead, never be able to see the arcane symbols that foretold their end. He watched his string wind along before him, a happy symbol, a good kind of fate. If he could help by seeing these strings and lose the masks at the same time…he felt the fragile glass of hope inside him resonate with Ichihara’s words. It felt true. It felt good. He smiled to himself, then yelped when a sudden voice disturbed him.
“What did she want?” Doumeki was waiting for him, arms crossed and casual, at the school’s entrance. His impassive gold eyes were trained on Watanuki.
“She wanted to tell me how impressed she is by me. How I’m such a good…” his voice trailed away as he suddenly realized what he was looking at. His red string. Their red string, as apparently he and Doumeki shared one. He was tied to Doumeki. Forever.
While the thought of being with Doumeki had first occurred long ago, and had long been accepted and even welcomed a little, seeing the absolute proof of their bond rocked Watanuki to his core.
He was startled out of his realization by strong hands on his arms. “Oi. Watanuki.”
“Eh?” He looked up into golden eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” Watanuki pushed Doumeki away. Doumeki allowed himself to be pushed. “Stop worrying about me, you idiot. I was only trying to think. We need to go shopping if you want lunch tomorrow.”
“You didn’t look like you were thinking.”
“Oh? What are you trying to say?!” Watanuki watched Doumeki ignore him and watched the string that stretched between them. Maybe that was why he’d never bothered to check to see where his string went. He’d met Doumeki so long ago, and Doumeki had been there ever since. He hadn’t felt concern over where his string led because he’d found the answer years ago and it just…felt…right. As they began to walk away from the school together, he knew that in the future, he’d probably complain, probably try to rip the string right off his finger. But he also knew it would never come off.
And he found he liked seeing it, seeing that particular red he’d never found anywhere else. He liked knowing it would remain unchanged, unaffected by anything. It would simply be there, and while Watanuki would not admit it, he liked that idea very much.