Smoke (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} smokexscribbles) wrote in ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} doumekiwatanuki,@ 2008-07-24 23:31:00 |
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Title: Timepiece
Author: smokexscribbles
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Blood, but I mean you're used to it, right?
Disclaimer: I am not CLAMP.
Summary: Meh sort of a shitty place to end the chapter but I promised I'd post. (p7) (p6) (p5) (p4) (p3) (p2) (p1)
The witch gives them – all the people from the ball, that is - a place to stay, a hotel that’s stuck between two dimensions and somehow in neither. It’s attended by what look like wind-up toys, giant bunny rabbits in fancy suits. They don’t really bother anyone, and only speak when spoken to.
Doumeki asks the rabbit that comes to change his sheets and put new soap in the shower what it thinks about loss.
“We protected someone once,” it tells him. “She died. Killed herself. To save everyone.”
“Me too,” Doumeki says. “Do you think-“
“I’m a rabbit,” the rabbit says. “I’m just a wind-up doll. I’m here to change the sheets; can’t you just let me do that?”
“Don’t bother,” Doumeki says. “I haven’t slept much.”
Actually, he hasn’t slept at all. It’s been three days, give or take, but it feels like time is frozen all over again. He’s not tired, hungry, or thirsty, and every time he closes his eyes, Watanuki dies one more time…
It’s on that third day that the witch comes up to his room, Himawari bobbing nervously in her wake, and stands in his doorway. She looks an odd mix of angry and sympathetic and is holding a steaming mug of tea. “You’ve got to stop this,” she tells him gently. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to die, too.”
“You don’t understand,” Doumeki begins, and Yuuko pushes the cup of tea into his hands, sits down on the edge of the bed, and pats the spot next to her.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Whether or not he wanted to talk about it is irrelevant, because approximately three seconds after he sips the tea he is falling asleep. “Bitch,” he says in tones of no surprise. Yuuko smiles and takes the tea-cup out of his hands.
“Doumeki-kun wouldn’t go to sleep on his own, so I had to help him. Sorry.”
Yuuko closes the door behind her and sighs. She’s done the best she can. It won’t be dreamless sleep – Taking remembering away from him would be cruel. And it won’t be happy. But these things must happen.
Doumeki dreams true things, things he didn’t remember up until now. Not all of them are happy, but not all of them are sad. Things are better, even when they are worse…
He’s out riding, and he meets Watanuki. He doesn’t, at this point in the dream, know the other man very well. He’s the owner of that mansion, another noble in a long procession of titles, lords, and ladies that Doumeki is somehow expected to remember. But they get to talking, and courtesy dictates that one should invite the other back to their home for tea or lunch or refreshment, so that is what happens.
Watanuki stumbles as he gets off his horse. Doumeki catches him and there is a moment where both of them are frozen, breath caught in respective throats.
“Thank you,” Watanuki says, somewhat stiffly, and Doumeki nods and lets go of his arm. The next day they meet up again – purely by chance, both of them insist. Watanuki stumbles, and if it happens just a second after he gets off his horse, Doumeki doesn’t mention it. Breaths caught. Then – Thank you. Nod. The next day, by chance, of course, they meet up a third time, but things are different. As they talk, their horses begin to get nervous, skittish. Watanuki looks up at the empty field and suggests that they move a little faster. No reason or anything like that. Just… How about we go that way?
A little faster is not quite fast enough, and Doumeki watches in befuddled horror as a bloody rip opens itself along Watanuki’s back. A set of monster-size toothmarks bloom on his shoulder, bruising where they don’t break the skin. He watches as his new friend screams in pain, still urging his horse onwards, new cuts opening courtesy of some invisible assailant that he, infuriatingly, cannot fight.
Watanuki falls. Doumeki grabs him and yanks him up into the saddle, wraps an arm around his waist (To keep him balanced) and gets ready to flee.
“It- It’s gone.” Watanuki says, lifting his head and looking around the field in amazement. “How’d you – “
“What the hell was that?” Doumeki asks.
“There are… things,” Watanuki attempts to explain. “They follow people. Sometimes they make them sick or unlucky. Sometimes they help them. This one wanted to kill me. I’m the only one who sees them – Well, that I know of. They always chase me.”
“Why did it leave?”
“I don’t know.”
Watanuki is surprised that Doumeki is so ready to believe him, but on the other hand, he has the evidence of his own eyes. They ride back in relative silence, Watanuki still on Doumeki’s horse, because if he faints he’ll have someone to keep him on (At least, that’s the logic.)
“I can walk,” Watanuki says when they get to Doumeki’s stables, and Doumeki allows him to get down from the horse by himself. He does so, walks a few steps, and realizes he really can’t walk at the moment. Doumeki knows enough about this man to know he would resent being carried, so he lets Watanuki lean on him and pretends not to see the blood soaking into his carpet.
“Thank you,” Watanuki says later. He seems almost ashamed of it all, the trouble and the monsters and the horse and the blood on the carpet.
“Don’t worry about it,” Doumeki says.
They ride together quite often, meeting by chance each and every day. Watanuki provides most of the conversation. They argue a lot, mostly because they both secretly love the debate.
One day, they meet a girl.
Author: smokexscribbles
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Blood, but I mean you're used to it, right?
Disclaimer: I am not CLAMP.
Summary: Meh sort of a shitty place to end the chapter but I promised I'd post. (p7) (p6) (p5) (p4) (p3) (p2) (p1)
The witch gives them – all the people from the ball, that is - a place to stay, a hotel that’s stuck between two dimensions and somehow in neither. It’s attended by what look like wind-up toys, giant bunny rabbits in fancy suits. They don’t really bother anyone, and only speak when spoken to.
Doumeki asks the rabbit that comes to change his sheets and put new soap in the shower what it thinks about loss.
“We protected someone once,” it tells him. “She died. Killed herself. To save everyone.”
“Me too,” Doumeki says. “Do you think-“
“I’m a rabbit,” the rabbit says. “I’m just a wind-up doll. I’m here to change the sheets; can’t you just let me do that?”
“Don’t bother,” Doumeki says. “I haven’t slept much.”
Actually, he hasn’t slept at all. It’s been three days, give or take, but it feels like time is frozen all over again. He’s not tired, hungry, or thirsty, and every time he closes his eyes, Watanuki dies one more time…
It’s on that third day that the witch comes up to his room, Himawari bobbing nervously in her wake, and stands in his doorway. She looks an odd mix of angry and sympathetic and is holding a steaming mug of tea. “You’ve got to stop this,” she tells him gently. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to die, too.”
“You don’t understand,” Doumeki begins, and Yuuko pushes the cup of tea into his hands, sits down on the edge of the bed, and pats the spot next to her.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Whether or not he wanted to talk about it is irrelevant, because approximately three seconds after he sips the tea he is falling asleep. “Bitch,” he says in tones of no surprise. Yuuko smiles and takes the tea-cup out of his hands.
“Doumeki-kun wouldn’t go to sleep on his own, so I had to help him. Sorry.”
Yuuko closes the door behind her and sighs. She’s done the best she can. It won’t be dreamless sleep – Taking remembering away from him would be cruel. And it won’t be happy. But these things must happen.
Doumeki dreams true things, things he didn’t remember up until now. Not all of them are happy, but not all of them are sad. Things are better, even when they are worse…
He’s out riding, and he meets Watanuki. He doesn’t, at this point in the dream, know the other man very well. He’s the owner of that mansion, another noble in a long procession of titles, lords, and ladies that Doumeki is somehow expected to remember. But they get to talking, and courtesy dictates that one should invite the other back to their home for tea or lunch or refreshment, so that is what happens.
Watanuki stumbles as he gets off his horse. Doumeki catches him and there is a moment where both of them are frozen, breath caught in respective throats.
“Thank you,” Watanuki says, somewhat stiffly, and Doumeki nods and lets go of his arm. The next day they meet up again – purely by chance, both of them insist. Watanuki stumbles, and if it happens just a second after he gets off his horse, Doumeki doesn’t mention it. Breaths caught. Then – Thank you. Nod. The next day, by chance, of course, they meet up a third time, but things are different. As they talk, their horses begin to get nervous, skittish. Watanuki looks up at the empty field and suggests that they move a little faster. No reason or anything like that. Just… How about we go that way?
A little faster is not quite fast enough, and Doumeki watches in befuddled horror as a bloody rip opens itself along Watanuki’s back. A set of monster-size toothmarks bloom on his shoulder, bruising where they don’t break the skin. He watches as his new friend screams in pain, still urging his horse onwards, new cuts opening courtesy of some invisible assailant that he, infuriatingly, cannot fight.
Watanuki falls. Doumeki grabs him and yanks him up into the saddle, wraps an arm around his waist (To keep him balanced) and gets ready to flee.
“It- It’s gone.” Watanuki says, lifting his head and looking around the field in amazement. “How’d you – “
“What the hell was that?” Doumeki asks.
“There are… things,” Watanuki attempts to explain. “They follow people. Sometimes they make them sick or unlucky. Sometimes they help them. This one wanted to kill me. I’m the only one who sees them – Well, that I know of. They always chase me.”
“Why did it leave?”
“I don’t know.”
Watanuki is surprised that Doumeki is so ready to believe him, but on the other hand, he has the evidence of his own eyes. They ride back in relative silence, Watanuki still on Doumeki’s horse, because if he faints he’ll have someone to keep him on (At least, that’s the logic.)
“I can walk,” Watanuki says when they get to Doumeki’s stables, and Doumeki allows him to get down from the horse by himself. He does so, walks a few steps, and realizes he really can’t walk at the moment. Doumeki knows enough about this man to know he would resent being carried, so he lets Watanuki lean on him and pretends not to see the blood soaking into his carpet.
“Thank you,” Watanuki says later. He seems almost ashamed of it all, the trouble and the monsters and the horse and the blood on the carpet.
“Don’t worry about it,” Doumeki says.
They ride together quite often, meeting by chance each and every day. Watanuki provides most of the conversation. They argue a lot, mostly because they both secretly love the debate.
One day, they meet a girl.
