And I follow up on my threat
Hmm. Some possibilities to get my creative motor pumping:
Kurogane/Watanuki
Yuuko/Watanuki
Yuuko/Himawari
Himawari/Sakura
Sakura/Watanuki/Syaoran (incest? Or selfcest? The world may never know)
C!Syaoran/Watanuki
Ame Warashi/Zashiki Warashi
Fai/Himawari
Doumeki/Kohane
Kentarou/Takeshi/Erii (Edonis)
Ryuu-oh/Souma (Edonis)
Okay, go!
Ryuu-oh caught the glance that Souma threw Kusanagi--exasperated, but understanding. He rolled his eyes and focused on eating the sweet cream cake the cafe offered, as the people of Outo wandered by.
Souma and Kusanagi had their own language of looks, but only because they were in the same situation. Ryuu-oh glanced at the counter, where Yuzuriha was ordering more coffee and cake for everyone, and eyeing the ice cream with a sparkling, speculative gaze.
He and Yuzuriha had their own language, too. Souma was less comfortable going on 'dates' with him here, as she was a little too dignified to really enjoy the silliness that was Outo. But she did it because he liked doing it, and she wanted to be near him. Outo was a socially acceptable way of being together without fear.
Kusanagi and Yuzuriha were more or less in the same boat, only Kusanagi liked the game and enjoyed it more. Ryuu-oh felt a little guilty that Souma always felt the need to scold him or apologize for him--that wasn't the way he wanted her to feel, it wasn't the way he wanted her to see him.
She caught his eyes and gave him a soft, sweet smile, and he returned it with a broad grin.
"Do you want more cake?" he asked, and she shook her head.
"That's all right, Ryuu-oh," she said. And he could believe it was.
***
Shitty first draft, okay.
The boy was Syaoran, but not Syaoran. His face was crumpled with a pain Kimihiro could only barely fathom, and his eyes were like Kimihiro's--one blue and one amber.
The same and yet not, Kimihiro thought, and he instinctively reached out. The boy's face crumbled completely, and he tumbled into Kimihiro's arms, shaking and shivering as though he would fly apart and disappear.
"Not you, either," Kimihiro whispered. The dreamscape was dark around the both of them, with no temple or cherry tree in sight. "Not you, either. Don't disappear. There are people who love you."
"No," the boy croaked. "I'm a monster."
"Even the monsters have those who love them," Kimihiro said, feeling oddly serene. "Even the monsters have someone they love dearly."
"Not anymore," the boy whispered. "They hate me. I hurt them. He hates me. And she's gone."
Kimihiro stroked his hair. He looked so much like Syaoran-kun. He was and was not. Much like the other boy--the one who had come alone on a rainy day--was and was not.
"I don't hate you," he said. "I've worried about you. I've hoped you've been all right. I've made food that Yuuko-san sent you."
The boy was quiet--shaking, but still quiet. "I remember that," he said at last. "The chocolate."
"That's right," Kimihiro said. "I don't know what's happened. I don't know why you hurt. I don't know why you hurt them. But if they love you, they will want to know why you did it. Or why you hurt."
"They don't. I tried to kill him. He gave me half his soul and I tried to kill him."
Kimihiro was silent. There didn't seem to be much he could say to that.
***
Yuuko watched as the girl made her way into the shop. It looked like an opium den, especially with all the incense, but it was not; it was just Yuuko, lying on her divan and smoking tobacco in an elegant pipe.
The girl was dressed like a proper Western lady, for all that she was obviously Japanese. Her hair was pulled into two pigtails, black curls spiralling down her back. She looked around with curious green eyes.
"Welcome to my shop," Yuuko said, her voice low and throaty. The girl looked at her, and smiled.
"I'm Himawari Kunogi," she said. "I was told by a boy that I could find what I wish for most here."
"Oh?" Yuuko asked, as she slid off the divan in a graceful movement of legs and trailing kimono wrappings. "Which boy?"
"The fortune teller down the street," Himawari said. "He read my palm, and told me that what I wanted most was at the end of the street, in the strange house with the wooden fence."
Yuuko looked at her--really Looked--and smiled. "I do believe he was right," she said. "I ask a heavy price for what you want most, though."
Himawari tilted her head. "How heavy?"
Yuuko glided over, the incense smoke parting around her and trailing in her hair. "What you want," she said, as she reached out and caressed Himawari's cheek, "is to find someone who will love you, correct?"
Himawari blushed a little and nodded, but met her eyes. "My father wants me to marry an employee of his," she said. "He wants to pass the business down to him. I love my father, but...."
"You wanted something else for yourself, in this New World," Yuuko supplied. "Am I right?"
"Yes," Himawari said. "I want to be happy."
"And being with someone who loves you, and whom you love in return...this will make you happy?"
Himawari bit her lip and fidgeted. "I would hope so," she said. "But...if it takes something else to make me happy, I'll understand. Or if I can't pay--well, at least I tried."
Yuuko stroked her cheek. "What if what makes you happy isn't 'normal?' What if it's not at all what your friends, your family, want?"
Himawari looked away for the first time. "It would hurt," she said softly. "I don't know very many people here. But...I am me. Not them. And they are not the ones who have to live my life."
"A good answer," Yuuko said, and stroked Himawari's jaw, and traced it down to her throat. "Your price, if you wish to pay it, is to stay with me, and accept any consequences that arise from that." She leaned closer and brushed Himawari's lips with her own. "The price and the wish are entwined, in your case," she breathed, her warm breath feathering across Himawari's cheeks. The girl had closed her eyes and leaned in, and one of her hands reached up to clutch at Yuuko's kimono.
"Do you accept?" Yuuko asked softly, her thumb stroking the hollow of Himawari's throat. The girl swallowed thickly, and nodded.
"I do," she said. "I accept."
Yuuko smiled, and caught her hand. "I'll have to close the shop for the rest of the day," she said. "This way, Himawari-chan."
Himawari followed, with her skirts bunched in one hand to keep them off the floor and the fingers of the other laced with Yuuko's.
***
"Eh?" Watanuki peered at the shop. "Yuuko-san's shop is closed."
"Maybe she's busy," Doumeki said. He had two six-round pistols at either hip. Watanuki glared at him.
"...Maybe," he conceded at last. "I did send a girl over earlier today."
"Why?"
"Because that's the direction her fortune indicated," Watanuki said snappishly. "And don't you--get your hand out of that basket! It's Yuuko-san's dinner!"
"Whatever," Doumeki replied, as he munched on a piece of ebi sushi and stuck one finger in his ear.
Okay, I did throw some Watanuki/Doumeki in the end there. But the rest is all alternate pairings, so I don't want to hear it!
Kurogane/Watanuki
Yuuko/Watanuki
Yuuko/Himawari
Himawari/Sakura
Sakura/Watanuki/Syaoran (incest? Or selfcest? The world may never know)
C!Syaoran/Watanuki
Ame Warashi/Zashiki Warashi
Fai/Himawari
Doumeki/Kohane
Kentarou/Takeshi/Erii (Edonis)
Ryuu-oh/Souma (Edonis)
Okay, go!
Ryuu-oh caught the glance that Souma threw Kusanagi--exasperated, but understanding. He rolled his eyes and focused on eating the sweet cream cake the cafe offered, as the people of Outo wandered by.
Souma and Kusanagi had their own language of looks, but only because they were in the same situation. Ryuu-oh glanced at the counter, where Yuzuriha was ordering more coffee and cake for everyone, and eyeing the ice cream with a sparkling, speculative gaze.
He and Yuzuriha had their own language, too. Souma was less comfortable going on 'dates' with him here, as she was a little too dignified to really enjoy the silliness that was Outo. But she did it because he liked doing it, and she wanted to be near him. Outo was a socially acceptable way of being together without fear.
Kusanagi and Yuzuriha were more or less in the same boat, only Kusanagi liked the game and enjoyed it more. Ryuu-oh felt a little guilty that Souma always felt the need to scold him or apologize for him--that wasn't the way he wanted her to feel, it wasn't the way he wanted her to see him.
She caught his eyes and gave him a soft, sweet smile, and he returned it with a broad grin.
"Do you want more cake?" he asked, and she shook her head.
"That's all right, Ryuu-oh," she said. And he could believe it was.
***
Shitty first draft, okay.
The boy was Syaoran, but not Syaoran. His face was crumpled with a pain Kimihiro could only barely fathom, and his eyes were like Kimihiro's--one blue and one amber.
The same and yet not, Kimihiro thought, and he instinctively reached out. The boy's face crumbled completely, and he tumbled into Kimihiro's arms, shaking and shivering as though he would fly apart and disappear.
"Not you, either," Kimihiro whispered. The dreamscape was dark around the both of them, with no temple or cherry tree in sight. "Not you, either. Don't disappear. There are people who love you."
"No," the boy croaked. "I'm a monster."
"Even the monsters have those who love them," Kimihiro said, feeling oddly serene. "Even the monsters have someone they love dearly."
"Not anymore," the boy whispered. "They hate me. I hurt them. He hates me. And she's gone."
Kimihiro stroked his hair. He looked so much like Syaoran-kun. He was and was not. Much like the other boy--the one who had come alone on a rainy day--was and was not.
"I don't hate you," he said. "I've worried about you. I've hoped you've been all right. I've made food that Yuuko-san sent you."
The boy was quiet--shaking, but still quiet. "I remember that," he said at last. "The chocolate."
"That's right," Kimihiro said. "I don't know what's happened. I don't know why you hurt. I don't know why you hurt them. But if they love you, they will want to know why you did it. Or why you hurt."
"They don't. I tried to kill him. He gave me half his soul and I tried to kill him."
Kimihiro was silent. There didn't seem to be much he could say to that.
***
Yuuko watched as the girl made her way into the shop. It looked like an opium den, especially with all the incense, but it was not; it was just Yuuko, lying on her divan and smoking tobacco in an elegant pipe.
The girl was dressed like a proper Western lady, for all that she was obviously Japanese. Her hair was pulled into two pigtails, black curls spiralling down her back. She looked around with curious green eyes.
"Welcome to my shop," Yuuko said, her voice low and throaty. The girl looked at her, and smiled.
"I'm Himawari Kunogi," she said. "I was told by a boy that I could find what I wish for most here."
"Oh?" Yuuko asked, as she slid off the divan in a graceful movement of legs and trailing kimono wrappings. "Which boy?"
"The fortune teller down the street," Himawari said. "He read my palm, and told me that what I wanted most was at the end of the street, in the strange house with the wooden fence."
Yuuko looked at her--really Looked--and smiled. "I do believe he was right," she said. "I ask a heavy price for what you want most, though."
Himawari tilted her head. "How heavy?"
Yuuko glided over, the incense smoke parting around her and trailing in her hair. "What you want," she said, as she reached out and caressed Himawari's cheek, "is to find someone who will love you, correct?"
Himawari blushed a little and nodded, but met her eyes. "My father wants me to marry an employee of his," she said. "He wants to pass the business down to him. I love my father, but...."
"You wanted something else for yourself, in this New World," Yuuko supplied. "Am I right?"
"Yes," Himawari said. "I want to be happy."
"And being with someone who loves you, and whom you love in return...this will make you happy?"
Himawari bit her lip and fidgeted. "I would hope so," she said. "But...if it takes something else to make me happy, I'll understand. Or if I can't pay--well, at least I tried."
Yuuko stroked her cheek. "What if what makes you happy isn't 'normal?' What if it's not at all what your friends, your family, want?"
Himawari looked away for the first time. "It would hurt," she said softly. "I don't know very many people here. But...I am me. Not them. And they are not the ones who have to live my life."
"A good answer," Yuuko said, and stroked Himawari's jaw, and traced it down to her throat. "Your price, if you wish to pay it, is to stay with me, and accept any consequences that arise from that." She leaned closer and brushed Himawari's lips with her own. "The price and the wish are entwined, in your case," she breathed, her warm breath feathering across Himawari's cheeks. The girl had closed her eyes and leaned in, and one of her hands reached up to clutch at Yuuko's kimono.
"Do you accept?" Yuuko asked softly, her thumb stroking the hollow of Himawari's throat. The girl swallowed thickly, and nodded.
"I do," she said. "I accept."
Yuuko smiled, and caught her hand. "I'll have to close the shop for the rest of the day," she said. "This way, Himawari-chan."
Himawari followed, with her skirts bunched in one hand to keep them off the floor and the fingers of the other laced with Yuuko's.
***
"Eh?" Watanuki peered at the shop. "Yuuko-san's shop is closed."
"Maybe she's busy," Doumeki said. He had two six-round pistols at either hip. Watanuki glared at him.
"...Maybe," he conceded at last. "I did send a girl over earlier today."
"Why?"
"Because that's the direction her fortune indicated," Watanuki said snappishly. "And don't you--get your hand out of that basket! It's Yuuko-san's dinner!"
"Whatever," Doumeki replied, as he munched on a piece of ebi sushi and stuck one finger in his ear.
Okay, I did throw some Watanuki/Doumeki in the end there. But the rest is all alternate pairings, so I don't want to hear it!