XXXHolic- "Made for Nights Like These"
A bit of a rushed job and thus silly, but I'm sure you guys will catch whatever I messed up on for me. THANKS IN ADVANCE!
Title: Made for Nights Like These
Universe: XXXHolic
Theme/Topic: Fireworks
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing/s: lightly DoumekixWatanuki, but not really, really.
Warnings/Spoilers: None I can imagine.
Word Count: 2,058
Summary: Watanuki wants to make new memories.
Dedication: meme drabble request for ashesto
A/N: SCHMOOP! OH THE SCHMOOP! And this is kind of boring and a little bit all over the place. Probably because I started writing it at work, so it’s a bit choppy ‘cuz I kept getting called away in the middle to actually you know…work. >> Also, I have NO IDEA what any Japanese festivals in particular consist of, so I just kind of made it up as I went along. SORRY.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
“Why am I here with you?” Watanuki mourned for the umpteenth time that hour as the two of them navigated the crowded streets lined with festive stalls and charming souvenir shops.
Doumeki ignored him. More likely than not the idiot would try to answer his own question in a few seconds anyway.
“I know! Someone is out to get me! That has to be it-it’s the only explanation as to how I could be here during the romantic festival season with you instead of Himawari-chan like I should be! Some god of bad luck is playing with my delicate heart and tearing Himawari-chan away from me at the last minute only to replace her with you so that he or she can laugh about it in the end and I bet-I bet-Yuuko-san put them up to it!” Watanuki declared, with fervor.
“Or Kunogi had to show her last-minute-arrival relative around town tonight.”
Watanuki deflated. “Or that.”
Then, he turned to glare at his taciturn companion-- as if Doumeki’s reminding him of the simple truth was some sort of malicious attack on the taller boy’s part. “And why are you here anyway? I don’t remember inviting you to join us.”
Doumeki blinked. “I wanted roasted chestnuts.” He held out the bag he was munching said roasted chestnuts from then, because knowing Watanuki, the spazzing idiot probably wouldn’t get it without the visual aid.
Watanuki bristled. “I hate you.”
Doumeki didn’t seem particularly distressed upon hearing that. “Does that mean I don’t have to share?”
He went back to eating his nuts.
Watanuki was disconsolate. “Maybe I should forget about the festival and go back to the store… I could make Sukiyaki for Yuuko-san,” he sighed pathetically, and plopped down on a nearby bench. Doumeki sat down next to him-- once again, uninvited.
The festival continued merrily on around them, pretty girls hand-in-hand with smiling guys, the couples sharing roasted chestnuts out of bags or munching delicately on dango while strolling amidst the various stalls, window-shopping and enjoying the warm glow of decorated lanterns in the early evening air.
“It’s a nice night,” Doumeki stated after a moment, and Watanuki could at least agree with the big muscle-head on that. Not that he’d say it out loud though.
It was a nice night.
Even if it was making him kind of envious, he forced to sit here with Doumeki while the two of them watched all the couples and families go happily by, dressed in their festive outfits and enjoying the company of those who they held most dear.
What nights like these were made of.
The sight admittedly began to make Watanuki just a little bit wistful, stirring stray memories of family outings on nights like these that usually remained faint in the back of his thoughts. In was as if, all of a sudden, he could hear the phantom echo of years gone by all at once-the sound of his own laughter mingling with that of his parents, familiar voices calling his name, warm fingers ruffling his hair, tweaking his nose, holding his hand.
He’d thought it might have been nice to make a new memory of these sorts of things tonight, but Himawari-chan had cancelled on him at the last minute, begging off meeting him here in lieu of showing a visiting cousin around town instead.
So much for making a new memory, then. He slumped a little in his seat at that, tried to tell himself that it couldn’t be helped in the long run-his luck in love felt as if it were fated to never be good.
He sighed.
And just when he was beginning to really feel sorry for himself, the rounded edge of a bottle bonked him non-too-gently on the side of the head.
Surprised, he straightened and turned to face his assailant, only to find Doumeki standing there in front of him, holding out a bottle of milk tea from a nearby vending machine. His eyes automatically narrowed. “Doumeki! What the heck was that for?”
“You look like a kid who didn’t get the toy he wanted for his birthday,” Doumeki said analytically, and said nothing else to explain why looking as such apparently earned one a smack to the head. Instead, he just continued to stand there, waiting patiently for Watanuki to accept the drink.
Watanuki scowled, but accepted the drink just because he knew the big idiot would stand there blinking at him all night until he did. “I was just thinking. Thinking, okay?”
“Don’t strain yourself.”
Watanuki glared. “Never mind. I don’t know why I talk to you.”
Silence.
Watanuki sipped at cold milk tea.
After a while Doumeki turned to look at the sky, and seemingly deciding on something after a long moment, promptly grabbed Watanuki’s wrist. “C’mon,” he said.
The other boy blinked. “What? Where?”
Deciding to forgo any further explanation in lieu of tugging on the wrist in his hand, Doumeki pulled Watanuki off the bench and back to his feet, leading him once more, through the gathered throng.
“Idiot, I’m going to spill everywhere! Wait a second will you?” Watanuki complained vocally, struggling to cap his drink one-handed while the silent ruffian named Doumeki pulled him every which way through the streets by the other, without even having the courtesy to tell him why.
Doumeki led the slimmer boy along without a backwards glance, holding onto his wrist firmly and winding the both of them through the crowds at a purposeful-but not haphazard-pace. Watanuki kind of thought Doumeki was an annoying bastard for being able to move so fluidly through the throng of people milling around the stalls despite how tall and broad he was.
“Where are we going?!” Kimihiro demanded once he’d properly capped his tea, speaking loudly enough to draw the attention of several groups of people as they passed. “I don’t want any chestnuts, okay? Go and get them yourself!”
“Everyone’s staring at you,” Doumeki told him, calmly.
“Only you would think they wouldn’t be staring at both of us!!!”
“You’re the one who’s screaming.”
“I’M NOT SCREAMING!”
Doumeki sighed. “Just c’mon.”
It was only then that Watanuki realized he was being led away from the main gathering of people, off to the periphery of the celebration at first and then eventually, a ways away from the festival itself, towards a grassy hillside overlooking the river. The sounds of human voices grew fainter and fainter as the pair moved onward and after a while, all Watanuki could see were the soft round globes of light from the colored lanterns when he looked back over his shoulder.
Watanuki momentarily forgot about being indignant about Doumeki making a spectacle of them both and concentrated on being confused instead. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking around warily.
When Doumeki felt the other boy beginning to follow more of his own volition than by the hand tugging his, he let go of Watanuki’s wrist. “It’s too noisy there,” he said, like that explained something.
“Too noisy for what?”
“Just be quiet a second, okay?” Doumeki told him, and stopped to survey the area for a moment. Watanuki watched him, and after beat or two, Shizuka found whatever it was he was looking for, because something like a smile tugged the corners of his mouth as his eyes settled on one tree in particular, sitting at the crest of a small hill. “That one.”
“What? That one what? Is it haunted? I can’t see anything wrong with it.” Watanuki squinted, looking more deliberately at the tree his companion was set on. He sighed. “I still don’t see it.”
Doumeki grabbed his wrist again. “Quiet,” he repeated, and tugged Watanuki up towards the hill.
“For what?! Why are we here? Say more than one syllable at a time will you, you jerk! Speak clearly! CLEARLY!”
Doumeki-predictably-did the exact opposite of what Watanuki wanted him to and didn’t say anything at all. Instead, he simply led his befuddled classmate up the incline until he found a spot he deemed suitable. Silent, he turned around and plopped down into it, taking Watanuki down with him as he did. “Here.”
“Oof…” Watanuki grunted as he was pulled down onto the grass beside Shizuka. “You can’t just grab people and pull them anyplace you want, you know!” he protested by rote. “It’s very abnormal behavior! And you still haven’t explained why the heck we’re here in the fi…”
But then Watanuki trailed off, irritation fading just a little bit when he suddenly caught the flicker of familiar lights reflected in Doumeki’s eyes. Pausing, he turned around very slowly and saw…
…the festival.
From the vantage point they were at now it almost looked like a town in a snow globe, a colorful collection of light and color-- peaceful and warm and inviting on a the starlit night in late autumn.
“Oh…wow,” Watanuki murmured, and blinked like he couldn’t quite believe Doumeki as the type of person who was capable of making such a gesture. “Why didn’t you just say that you wanted to...”
“Shut up for a second,” Doumeki said, and effectively killed any sort of pseudo-apology Watanuki had been prepared to say to him just now.
“Would you stop telling me to shut up? I was just going to say that…”
The first firework exploded in the sky overhead.
Watanuki jumped in surprise.
Doumeki looked up at it serenely.
“Fireworks,” he said, incase Watanuki still didn’t get it.
“Oh!” Watanuki breathed, and trained his eyes heavenward as more of the fireworks began to shoot up overhead. It was really pretty. “You can see everything so clear from here,” he marveled, and forgot entirely about being irritated with Doumeki.
Doumeki relaxed and leaned back on his elbows, watching the light show above as well-magnificent bursts of glittering color in the otherwise black night sky.
“Jii-san used to take me here to watch the fireworks for this festival every year,” he revealed suddenly, the ghost of a smile on his otherwise calm features. “It was our secret place.”
At the unexpected admission, Watanuki tore his eyes away from the fireworks to stare at Doumeki for a moment. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh,” the smaller boy said again, and couldn’t think of anything else to say right off because he was suddenly feeling a little guilty for always assuming the worst of Doumeki when in reality, the other boy had only been trying to share with Watanuki, one of the precious memories he’d had with his grandfather. “It’s nice,” Kimihiro added after a second, lamely.
“Yeah.”
Watanuki fidgeted with his milk tea bottle, feeling oddly awkward as they sat like that, side by side and silent. After a moment, he sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat. Swallowed his pride. “Um...” he began, “I… well… I guess in this case I should say… er… I should say… th-tha…”
“Oi…” Doumeki interrupted, eying him lazily.
Watanuki swallowed. “Er…y-yeah?”
“Be quiet for a second, will you?”
Watanuki glared, and every nice thing he’d been about to say promptly died on his tongue. “I hate you,” he said instead.
Doumeki ignored him.
They watched the fireworks together in silence.
And even though Doumeki was a no-good, rotten, communication-challenged cretin most of the time, when Watanuki got home later that night, he had to admit to himself-however reluctantly-- that he’d probably look back on this particular night one day in the distant future and consider it a pretty good memory after all.
A new one, to add to all the old ones he’d gathered on nights just like these, in years before.
He smiled to himself and thought about how his older memories were full of phantom impressions from time gone by, the sounds of his own laughter mingling with that of his parents, the familiar feeling of voices saying his name, warm fingers ruffling his hair, tweaking his nose, holding his hand.
To those worn remembrances he added the taste of cold milk tea and the smell of roasted chestnuts, the image of a thousand brilliant flashing lights dancing in the night sky overhead and the gently happy look on Doumeki’s face when he talked about his grandfather.
All in all, Watanuki thought it had been a nice night.
The kind good memories were made of.
END
EDITS PLZ.
Title: Made for Nights Like These
Universe: XXXHolic
Theme/Topic: Fireworks
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing/s: lightly DoumekixWatanuki, but not really, really.
Warnings/Spoilers: None I can imagine.
Word Count: 2,058
Summary: Watanuki wants to make new memories.
Dedication: meme drabble request for ashesto
A/N: SCHMOOP! OH THE SCHMOOP! And this is kind of boring and a little bit all over the place. Probably because I started writing it at work, so it’s a bit choppy ‘cuz I kept getting called away in the middle to actually you know…work. >> Also, I have NO IDEA what any Japanese festivals in particular consist of, so I just kind of made it up as I went along. SORRY.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
“Why am I here with you?” Watanuki mourned for the umpteenth time that hour as the two of them navigated the crowded streets lined with festive stalls and charming souvenir shops.
Doumeki ignored him. More likely than not the idiot would try to answer his own question in a few seconds anyway.
“I know! Someone is out to get me! That has to be it-it’s the only explanation as to how I could be here during the romantic festival season with you instead of Himawari-chan like I should be! Some god of bad luck is playing with my delicate heart and tearing Himawari-chan away from me at the last minute only to replace her with you so that he or she can laugh about it in the end and I bet-I bet-Yuuko-san put them up to it!” Watanuki declared, with fervor.
“Or Kunogi had to show her last-minute-arrival relative around town tonight.”
Watanuki deflated. “Or that.”
Then, he turned to glare at his taciturn companion-- as if Doumeki’s reminding him of the simple truth was some sort of malicious attack on the taller boy’s part. “And why are you here anyway? I don’t remember inviting you to join us.”
Doumeki blinked. “I wanted roasted chestnuts.” He held out the bag he was munching said roasted chestnuts from then, because knowing Watanuki, the spazzing idiot probably wouldn’t get it without the visual aid.
Watanuki bristled. “I hate you.”
Doumeki didn’t seem particularly distressed upon hearing that. “Does that mean I don’t have to share?”
He went back to eating his nuts.
Watanuki was disconsolate. “Maybe I should forget about the festival and go back to the store… I could make Sukiyaki for Yuuko-san,” he sighed pathetically, and plopped down on a nearby bench. Doumeki sat down next to him-- once again, uninvited.
The festival continued merrily on around them, pretty girls hand-in-hand with smiling guys, the couples sharing roasted chestnuts out of bags or munching delicately on dango while strolling amidst the various stalls, window-shopping and enjoying the warm glow of decorated lanterns in the early evening air.
“It’s a nice night,” Doumeki stated after a moment, and Watanuki could at least agree with the big muscle-head on that. Not that he’d say it out loud though.
It was a nice night.
Even if it was making him kind of envious, he forced to sit here with Doumeki while the two of them watched all the couples and families go happily by, dressed in their festive outfits and enjoying the company of those who they held most dear.
What nights like these were made of.
The sight admittedly began to make Watanuki just a little bit wistful, stirring stray memories of family outings on nights like these that usually remained faint in the back of his thoughts. In was as if, all of a sudden, he could hear the phantom echo of years gone by all at once-the sound of his own laughter mingling with that of his parents, familiar voices calling his name, warm fingers ruffling his hair, tweaking his nose, holding his hand.
He’d thought it might have been nice to make a new memory of these sorts of things tonight, but Himawari-chan had cancelled on him at the last minute, begging off meeting him here in lieu of showing a visiting cousin around town instead.
So much for making a new memory, then. He slumped a little in his seat at that, tried to tell himself that it couldn’t be helped in the long run-his luck in love felt as if it were fated to never be good.
He sighed.
And just when he was beginning to really feel sorry for himself, the rounded edge of a bottle bonked him non-too-gently on the side of the head.
Surprised, he straightened and turned to face his assailant, only to find Doumeki standing there in front of him, holding out a bottle of milk tea from a nearby vending machine. His eyes automatically narrowed. “Doumeki! What the heck was that for?”
“You look like a kid who didn’t get the toy he wanted for his birthday,” Doumeki said analytically, and said nothing else to explain why looking as such apparently earned one a smack to the head. Instead, he just continued to stand there, waiting patiently for Watanuki to accept the drink.
Watanuki scowled, but accepted the drink just because he knew the big idiot would stand there blinking at him all night until he did. “I was just thinking. Thinking, okay?”
“Don’t strain yourself.”
Watanuki glared. “Never mind. I don’t know why I talk to you.”
Silence.
Watanuki sipped at cold milk tea.
After a while Doumeki turned to look at the sky, and seemingly deciding on something after a long moment, promptly grabbed Watanuki’s wrist. “C’mon,” he said.
The other boy blinked. “What? Where?”
Deciding to forgo any further explanation in lieu of tugging on the wrist in his hand, Doumeki pulled Watanuki off the bench and back to his feet, leading him once more, through the gathered throng.
“Idiot, I’m going to spill everywhere! Wait a second will you?” Watanuki complained vocally, struggling to cap his drink one-handed while the silent ruffian named Doumeki pulled him every which way through the streets by the other, without even having the courtesy to tell him why.
Doumeki led the slimmer boy along without a backwards glance, holding onto his wrist firmly and winding the both of them through the crowds at a purposeful-but not haphazard-pace. Watanuki kind of thought Doumeki was an annoying bastard for being able to move so fluidly through the throng of people milling around the stalls despite how tall and broad he was.
“Where are we going?!” Kimihiro demanded once he’d properly capped his tea, speaking loudly enough to draw the attention of several groups of people as they passed. “I don’t want any chestnuts, okay? Go and get them yourself!”
“Everyone’s staring at you,” Doumeki told him, calmly.
“Only you would think they wouldn’t be staring at both of us!!!”
“You’re the one who’s screaming.”
“I’M NOT SCREAMING!”
Doumeki sighed. “Just c’mon.”
It was only then that Watanuki realized he was being led away from the main gathering of people, off to the periphery of the celebration at first and then eventually, a ways away from the festival itself, towards a grassy hillside overlooking the river. The sounds of human voices grew fainter and fainter as the pair moved onward and after a while, all Watanuki could see were the soft round globes of light from the colored lanterns when he looked back over his shoulder.
Watanuki momentarily forgot about being indignant about Doumeki making a spectacle of them both and concentrated on being confused instead. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking around warily.
When Doumeki felt the other boy beginning to follow more of his own volition than by the hand tugging his, he let go of Watanuki’s wrist. “It’s too noisy there,” he said, like that explained something.
“Too noisy for what?”
“Just be quiet a second, okay?” Doumeki told him, and stopped to survey the area for a moment. Watanuki watched him, and after beat or two, Shizuka found whatever it was he was looking for, because something like a smile tugged the corners of his mouth as his eyes settled on one tree in particular, sitting at the crest of a small hill. “That one.”
“What? That one what? Is it haunted? I can’t see anything wrong with it.” Watanuki squinted, looking more deliberately at the tree his companion was set on. He sighed. “I still don’t see it.”
Doumeki grabbed his wrist again. “Quiet,” he repeated, and tugged Watanuki up towards the hill.
“For what?! Why are we here? Say more than one syllable at a time will you, you jerk! Speak clearly! CLEARLY!”
Doumeki-predictably-did the exact opposite of what Watanuki wanted him to and didn’t say anything at all. Instead, he simply led his befuddled classmate up the incline until he found a spot he deemed suitable. Silent, he turned around and plopped down into it, taking Watanuki down with him as he did. “Here.”
“Oof…” Watanuki grunted as he was pulled down onto the grass beside Shizuka. “You can’t just grab people and pull them anyplace you want, you know!” he protested by rote. “It’s very abnormal behavior! And you still haven’t explained why the heck we’re here in the fi…”
But then Watanuki trailed off, irritation fading just a little bit when he suddenly caught the flicker of familiar lights reflected in Doumeki’s eyes. Pausing, he turned around very slowly and saw…
…the festival.
From the vantage point they were at now it almost looked like a town in a snow globe, a colorful collection of light and color-- peaceful and warm and inviting on a the starlit night in late autumn.
“Oh…wow,” Watanuki murmured, and blinked like he couldn’t quite believe Doumeki as the type of person who was capable of making such a gesture. “Why didn’t you just say that you wanted to...”
“Shut up for a second,” Doumeki said, and effectively killed any sort of pseudo-apology Watanuki had been prepared to say to him just now.
“Would you stop telling me to shut up? I was just going to say that…”
The first firework exploded in the sky overhead.
Watanuki jumped in surprise.
Doumeki looked up at it serenely.
“Fireworks,” he said, incase Watanuki still didn’t get it.
“Oh!” Watanuki breathed, and trained his eyes heavenward as more of the fireworks began to shoot up overhead. It was really pretty. “You can see everything so clear from here,” he marveled, and forgot entirely about being irritated with Doumeki.
Doumeki relaxed and leaned back on his elbows, watching the light show above as well-magnificent bursts of glittering color in the otherwise black night sky.
“Jii-san used to take me here to watch the fireworks for this festival every year,” he revealed suddenly, the ghost of a smile on his otherwise calm features. “It was our secret place.”
At the unexpected admission, Watanuki tore his eyes away from the fireworks to stare at Doumeki for a moment. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh,” the smaller boy said again, and couldn’t think of anything else to say right off because he was suddenly feeling a little guilty for always assuming the worst of Doumeki when in reality, the other boy had only been trying to share with Watanuki, one of the precious memories he’d had with his grandfather. “It’s nice,” Kimihiro added after a second, lamely.
“Yeah.”
Watanuki fidgeted with his milk tea bottle, feeling oddly awkward as they sat like that, side by side and silent. After a moment, he sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat. Swallowed his pride. “Um...” he began, “I… well… I guess in this case I should say… er… I should say… th-tha…”
“Oi…” Doumeki interrupted, eying him lazily.
Watanuki swallowed. “Er…y-yeah?”
“Be quiet for a second, will you?”
Watanuki glared, and every nice thing he’d been about to say promptly died on his tongue. “I hate you,” he said instead.
Doumeki ignored him.
They watched the fireworks together in silence.
And even though Doumeki was a no-good, rotten, communication-challenged cretin most of the time, when Watanuki got home later that night, he had to admit to himself-however reluctantly-- that he’d probably look back on this particular night one day in the distant future and consider it a pretty good memory after all.
A new one, to add to all the old ones he’d gathered on nights just like these, in years before.
He smiled to himself and thought about how his older memories were full of phantom impressions from time gone by, the sounds of his own laughter mingling with that of his parents, the familiar feeling of voices saying his name, warm fingers ruffling his hair, tweaking his nose, holding his hand.
To those worn remembrances he added the taste of cold milk tea and the smell of roasted chestnuts, the image of a thousand brilliant flashing lights dancing in the night sky overhead and the gently happy look on Doumeki’s face when he talked about his grandfather.
All in all, Watanuki thought it had been a nice night.
The kind good memories were made of.
END
EDITS PLZ.