XXXHolic- "Such is Fate"
Title: Such is Fate
Universe: XXXHolic
Theme/Topic: Timestamp meme request
Rating: G
Character/Pairing/s: lightly DoumekixWatanuki
Warnings/Spoilers: Vague spoilers through ch 182 (Probably AU after the fact)
Word Count: 1,410
Summary: Prequel of sorts to “Never Gone”- You don’t have to know exactly what is missing to know that something is.
Dedication: imifumei’s request on my request meme! With this, I am done.
A/N: The request was: “The moment Doumeki realizes their connection.” Not exactly a timestamp, but close enough. It got me interested in any case, I guess that is all that matters. XD
Disclaimer: No harm or infringement intended.
Doumeki feels like something is missing.
His teammates in the archery club say that maybe he ought to get out and do something social with kids his own age every once in a while; they think it might help with whatever it is that’s making him so brooding and thoughtful all the time, especially since it is supposed to be the happy and blossoming springtime of their youth. Also, it would be nice if he’d stop sighing and squinting off into the distance during their team practices, like he’s not really all that interested in archery so much as he is waiting for something or someone to appear over the horizon.
It’s annoying, they say, when he doesn’t concentrate like that and can still hit the bullseye anyway.
He agrees to their suggestions sometimes just to humor them, going out with them to karaoke and to restaurants and on group dates with girls from other schools. But even still, none of it feels real somehow, none of it makes the expression on his face change from that impassive, aloof cool that all the girls at the goukons sigh over when they inevitably pick him at the end of the night, despite the fact that he’s already forgotten their names and thinks that they all look alike and feels that nothing about them stirs his interest, not even a little bit.
Something bigger than that, Doumeki feels, is missing from his life.
When he gets home on those nights, after politely declining to take the girls’ phone numbers, he sets his book bag on his desk and sits down to do his homework; every so often his eyes are drawn to the two broken shards of eggshell that sit at the corner of his desk, a pair of jagged-edged halves to what once, must have been one whole entity.
He touches the edges with his fingers sometimes, and wonders why he keeps them, why, whenever his mother tells him to stop storing trash in his room and to throw them away, a part of him simply says that they’re not trash.
He doesn’t remember where he got them from, or what they mean.
They sit on his desk, broken and used, and Doumeki doesn’t know why. He wishes he knew why, but somehow, vaguely, he feels like that’s a wish that they don’t have the power to grant. Not anymore, anyway.
So he does his homework instead, and wonders when all the pieces will come together and everything will be whole again. His grandfather used to tell him that everything always does in its own way, eventually. “Such is fate, Shizuka,” he would say, while patting his grandson’s head gently.
For now, all Doumeki can do is wait.
~~~~~
He is with Kunogi in the copy room, scanning some handouts for their class one day, when she suddenly stops and asks him, “Do you think we should prepare some sort of welcome back present for Watanuki-kun tomorrow?”
Doumeki stops everything he’s doing just as the copier light goes off, scanning a bright and brilliant flash against his eyes in a moment of frozen time.
He blinks and sees spots around the edges of his vision and stops to rub his left eye. “Who?” he asks, after a moment.
Kunogi clucks at him, but in a cheerful sort of way, as she reaches out to get the copies from the machine. “Watanuki-kun,” she repeats.
“I don’t know that person,” Doumeki says, and it feels like something is missing when he does.
Kunogi’s smile is undefeatable. “Well, I suppose it has been a while since he’s been to school,” she sighs, and starts to collate and staple the handout pages together while Doumeki looks on. “He was supposed to start the year with us, but had to miss the first semester because of health and family issues.”
Something flutters on the edge of Doumeki’s consciousness when he hears that, but he can’t tell what it is, not just like that. It still feels too far away.
“But now Watanuki-kun is all better and sensei said he should be returning tomorrow. So I was thinking maybe we could make him a sign or decorate his shoe locker. You know, to show that we haven’t forgotten him, even after all this time.”
Doumeki isn’t really listening to her anymore, his brow furrowed in thought as he tries to grasp at that nagging feeling in the back of his mind, the one that feels so far away but not all at once. “Watanuki Kimihiro,” he manages after a beat, somehow. “His name is Watanuki Kimihiro.”
Kunogi beams. “Yes! Doumeki-kun has a really good memory,” she chirrups, and finishes putting the papers together. She stacks them neatly and hands them to him. “Can you take these back to sensei? I have to go to the teacher’s lounge for a minute.”
Doumeki dutifully takes the papers and heads back to the classroom, still thoughtful.
There’s a desk in there that’s always been empty, he remembers, suddenly. And just as suddenly, he knows that it belongs to somebody named Watanuki Kimihiro.
Watanuki Kimihiro is coming back tomorrow.
For a second, Doumeki starts to feel like his long wait is almost over, that everything is starting to come together as it’s supposed to, one piece at a time.
Such is fate.
~~~~~
The next morning at school, Doumeki stares as a tall, thin boy stands at the front of the classroom, head bowed, bangs falling into his eyes under his glasses. “Nice to meet you all,” he says, shyly.
There is a sadness that follows him, some weight that settles on his slight shoulders and won’t seem to let go.
And Doumeki discovers that he can’t look away.
Not even for a moment, not even when his classmates and teacher start to notice his interest, realizing that something has finally gotten hold of Doumeki Shizuka’s complete attention when they had resigned themselves to the fact that nothing ever would.
“Please take a seat, Watanuki-kun,” their teacher manages eventually, and when Watanuki does, Doumeki’s eyes follow him the entire way.
Even Watanuki notices it at that point, but he doesn’t say anything yet, just opens up his textbooks and stares down at his desk quietly throughout the class, the weight on those shoulders looking as heavy as a universe.
Doumeki wonders if it’s a load that can be forgotten.
Maybe some things are better off forgotten. His grandfather always used to tell him things tend to work out for the best in their own way, even if that way is mysterious to humans a lot of the time. Such is fate.
Doumeki supposes he’ll find out soon enough; he has always been good at waiting.
~~~~~
By around lunchtime the next week, Watanuki Kimihiro finally can’t take it anymore.
“Why do you keep staring at me like that?” he demands suddenly, standing up from his seat and turning towards Doumeki as he does. That he is capable of that kind of heated tone is surprising to their classmates and pretty soon, everyone else is looking at Watanuki Kimihiro too.
Doumeki inexplicably feels something a little bit like a smile starting to tug at the edges of his mouth when Watanuki springs up like that, momentarily spry, momentarily weightless despite everything. “Your lunch,” he says to the shorter boy after a beat, “looks good. Share it with me.”
Watanuki gapes. “Who just does that?!” he demands, loud enough this time that Doumeki automatically puts his fingers in his ears.
In the background, Kunogi laughs, and it is as bright and cheerful as birdsong. “It’s great that you two are getting along so well already,” she says pleasantly, without missing a beat.
Watanuki sputters.
~~~~~
The next day, when Doumeki is sitting on the lawn, eating Watanuki’s homemade sweet omelets with rice and pickled radishes, he starts to feel a little bit more complete.
He knows that some things are still missing, but he also knows that they will either stay forgotten or eventually fall into place with time, as fate has meant them to.
As his grandfather always used to say, things have a way of working themselves out.
“Stop stuffing your face! How can you eat enough for three people and not be tremendously fat?!” Watanuki rants incredulously in the meantime, even as he is pouring Doumeki another cup of warm oolong tea.
If it’s like this, Doumeki thinks that he won’t mind the wait.
END
EDITS?
Universe: XXXHolic
Theme/Topic: Timestamp meme request
Rating: G
Character/Pairing/s: lightly DoumekixWatanuki
Warnings/Spoilers: Vague spoilers through ch 182 (Probably AU after the fact)
Word Count: 1,410
Summary: Prequel of sorts to “Never Gone”- You don’t have to know exactly what is missing to know that something is.
Dedication: imifumei’s request on my request meme! With this, I am done.
A/N: The request was: “The moment Doumeki realizes their connection.” Not exactly a timestamp, but close enough. It got me interested in any case, I guess that is all that matters. XD
Disclaimer: No harm or infringement intended.
Doumeki feels like something is missing.
His teammates in the archery club say that maybe he ought to get out and do something social with kids his own age every once in a while; they think it might help with whatever it is that’s making him so brooding and thoughtful all the time, especially since it is supposed to be the happy and blossoming springtime of their youth. Also, it would be nice if he’d stop sighing and squinting off into the distance during their team practices, like he’s not really all that interested in archery so much as he is waiting for something or someone to appear over the horizon.
It’s annoying, they say, when he doesn’t concentrate like that and can still hit the bullseye anyway.
He agrees to their suggestions sometimes just to humor them, going out with them to karaoke and to restaurants and on group dates with girls from other schools. But even still, none of it feels real somehow, none of it makes the expression on his face change from that impassive, aloof cool that all the girls at the goukons sigh over when they inevitably pick him at the end of the night, despite the fact that he’s already forgotten their names and thinks that they all look alike and feels that nothing about them stirs his interest, not even a little bit.
Something bigger than that, Doumeki feels, is missing from his life.
When he gets home on those nights, after politely declining to take the girls’ phone numbers, he sets his book bag on his desk and sits down to do his homework; every so often his eyes are drawn to the two broken shards of eggshell that sit at the corner of his desk, a pair of jagged-edged halves to what once, must have been one whole entity.
He touches the edges with his fingers sometimes, and wonders why he keeps them, why, whenever his mother tells him to stop storing trash in his room and to throw them away, a part of him simply says that they’re not trash.
He doesn’t remember where he got them from, or what they mean.
They sit on his desk, broken and used, and Doumeki doesn’t know why. He wishes he knew why, but somehow, vaguely, he feels like that’s a wish that they don’t have the power to grant. Not anymore, anyway.
So he does his homework instead, and wonders when all the pieces will come together and everything will be whole again. His grandfather used to tell him that everything always does in its own way, eventually. “Such is fate, Shizuka,” he would say, while patting his grandson’s head gently.
For now, all Doumeki can do is wait.
~~~~~
He is with Kunogi in the copy room, scanning some handouts for their class one day, when she suddenly stops and asks him, “Do you think we should prepare some sort of welcome back present for Watanuki-kun tomorrow?”
Doumeki stops everything he’s doing just as the copier light goes off, scanning a bright and brilliant flash against his eyes in a moment of frozen time.
He blinks and sees spots around the edges of his vision and stops to rub his left eye. “Who?” he asks, after a moment.
Kunogi clucks at him, but in a cheerful sort of way, as she reaches out to get the copies from the machine. “Watanuki-kun,” she repeats.
“I don’t know that person,” Doumeki says, and it feels like something is missing when he does.
Kunogi’s smile is undefeatable. “Well, I suppose it has been a while since he’s been to school,” she sighs, and starts to collate and staple the handout pages together while Doumeki looks on. “He was supposed to start the year with us, but had to miss the first semester because of health and family issues.”
Something flutters on the edge of Doumeki’s consciousness when he hears that, but he can’t tell what it is, not just like that. It still feels too far away.
“But now Watanuki-kun is all better and sensei said he should be returning tomorrow. So I was thinking maybe we could make him a sign or decorate his shoe locker. You know, to show that we haven’t forgotten him, even after all this time.”
Doumeki isn’t really listening to her anymore, his brow furrowed in thought as he tries to grasp at that nagging feeling in the back of his mind, the one that feels so far away but not all at once. “Watanuki Kimihiro,” he manages after a beat, somehow. “His name is Watanuki Kimihiro.”
Kunogi beams. “Yes! Doumeki-kun has a really good memory,” she chirrups, and finishes putting the papers together. She stacks them neatly and hands them to him. “Can you take these back to sensei? I have to go to the teacher’s lounge for a minute.”
Doumeki dutifully takes the papers and heads back to the classroom, still thoughtful.
There’s a desk in there that’s always been empty, he remembers, suddenly. And just as suddenly, he knows that it belongs to somebody named Watanuki Kimihiro.
Watanuki Kimihiro is coming back tomorrow.
For a second, Doumeki starts to feel like his long wait is almost over, that everything is starting to come together as it’s supposed to, one piece at a time.
Such is fate.
~~~~~
The next morning at school, Doumeki stares as a tall, thin boy stands at the front of the classroom, head bowed, bangs falling into his eyes under his glasses. “Nice to meet you all,” he says, shyly.
There is a sadness that follows him, some weight that settles on his slight shoulders and won’t seem to let go.
And Doumeki discovers that he can’t look away.
Not even for a moment, not even when his classmates and teacher start to notice his interest, realizing that something has finally gotten hold of Doumeki Shizuka’s complete attention when they had resigned themselves to the fact that nothing ever would.
“Please take a seat, Watanuki-kun,” their teacher manages eventually, and when Watanuki does, Doumeki’s eyes follow him the entire way.
Even Watanuki notices it at that point, but he doesn’t say anything yet, just opens up his textbooks and stares down at his desk quietly throughout the class, the weight on those shoulders looking as heavy as a universe.
Doumeki wonders if it’s a load that can be forgotten.
Maybe some things are better off forgotten. His grandfather always used to tell him things tend to work out for the best in their own way, even if that way is mysterious to humans a lot of the time. Such is fate.
Doumeki supposes he’ll find out soon enough; he has always been good at waiting.
~~~~~
By around lunchtime the next week, Watanuki Kimihiro finally can’t take it anymore.
“Why do you keep staring at me like that?” he demands suddenly, standing up from his seat and turning towards Doumeki as he does. That he is capable of that kind of heated tone is surprising to their classmates and pretty soon, everyone else is looking at Watanuki Kimihiro too.
Doumeki inexplicably feels something a little bit like a smile starting to tug at the edges of his mouth when Watanuki springs up like that, momentarily spry, momentarily weightless despite everything. “Your lunch,” he says to the shorter boy after a beat, “looks good. Share it with me.”
Watanuki gapes. “Who just does that?!” he demands, loud enough this time that Doumeki automatically puts his fingers in his ears.
In the background, Kunogi laughs, and it is as bright and cheerful as birdsong. “It’s great that you two are getting along so well already,” she says pleasantly, without missing a beat.
Watanuki sputters.
~~~~~
The next day, when Doumeki is sitting on the lawn, eating Watanuki’s homemade sweet omelets with rice and pickled radishes, he starts to feel a little bit more complete.
He knows that some things are still missing, but he also knows that they will either stay forgotten or eventually fall into place with time, as fate has meant them to.
As his grandfather always used to say, things have a way of working themselves out.
“Stop stuffing your face! How can you eat enough for three people and not be tremendously fat?!” Watanuki rants incredulously in the meantime, even as he is pouring Doumeki another cup of warm oolong tea.
If it’s like this, Doumeki thinks that he won’t mind the wait.
END
EDITS?