The Clarity of Assumption

Chapter 10, finale: Knowing

Watanuki snapped back to reality as he felt the coldness in his chest rise in victory. It was seizing its chance while the host was vulnerable. It screamed in his body, ricocheting through every bone and muscle, and attacked. He gasped, grabbing his chest with his free hand. Doumeki quickly leaned closer. "What's happening?"

"I don't know… ugh," Watanuki cried out, his body jerking. "Agh… it's attacking…"

Doumeki looked down at their hands in consternation. The fire in his own body felt the same. "How come I can't feel it attacking?!" he muttered desperately. "I don't feel anything!"

His heart wrenched as Watanuki cried out again, clutching his hand with both hands. This was the last leg of the mushi—if it had to leave, it was trying to clean out the soul it inhabited. "You have to fight it," Doumeki gritted. "It's trying to wipe you out."

Watanuki suffered in silence, only gasping now and then as the pain hit him. Doumeki could feel the heart beating against the narrow chest, gamely resisting the mushi's aggression. His mind was a blur. What could he do? What would his grandfather do? What would that lady do? He felt his mind reaching into the crevices of his heritage, of his foundation as a child. Maybe if he read a rite.

He grabbed the book on the small table next to the floorbed. In the light of the flickering lantern, he turned to the page that he knew so well since his childhood. Chanting softly, he looked up every now and then to check on Watanuki. The passage seemed to cause the mushi to resist more ferociously. No… it wasn't strong enough. He had to clear it out all at once, and do it fast.

Suddenly Watanuki seemed to relax, physically. Doumeki noticed an instant change—his face muscles were relaxed, and his breathing was lighter. Maybe the mushi had given up? Perhaps the rite was stronger than he thought. However when he leaned in for a closer look… there was something wrong.

"Hey." He touched the cold face. There was no response. "Hey! … shit." He cursed as he realized what had happened. It had gotten in. It was now making its way into Watanuki's delicious soul, and would consume it, leaving behind a lifeless shell of a person. "Stop!!!" he yelled into the pale face. No response. There was nothing left to hear him shout—the mushi was too far gone into his being.

Doumeki looked around wildly. No incantations, no slips of paper… he couldn't do anything. Nothing could get to the spirit in time. It was probably already within and had started eating. He felt a whirl of emotions. "No…. wake up. Wake up!! Fight it… fight it!!" He yelled helplessly, squeezing his hand, shaking his shoulder. No response.

Everything had erased from his mind. The face of that lady looming in, smiling at him. Himawari's gentle smile. His grandfather's knowing grin. All he saw was the calm face in front of him. He smoothed down the tousled hair, traced the fine lines of his face. The panicked resolve rose in his mind as he felt the coolness of his skin. He didn't know what to do reach him. But he couldn't let him go. Not yet—not ever.

"Watanuki," he murmured. "I know you're still there." He leaned down slowly, touching forehead to forehead. "Listen. I… I will be here for you when you come back."

He lifted his head, and looked down at the small face, cradled in his long fingers. He took a deep breath.

So come back.

They were in the field again, the warm wind gusting around them both. He was still reaching out towards the dark figure before him. Only this time, there was a distinct shadow framing the small body, grasping his shoulders, seeping heavily out into the atmosphere. The mushi.

Watanuki looked up. The beast on his shoulder snarled and dug its claws deeper into his shoulder. He did not seem to notice, however. He locked eyes with Doumeki.

"I can hear you," Watanuki said simply. "I can always hear you. Even though you and I both know how much trouble I've caused you, you still persist and reach out."

Doumeki could taste the freshness of the wind, which began to blow harshly at the mushi. It began to disintegrate, screaming and clawing at its host. Watanuki did not even flinch.

"So do you," Doumeki answered, and took a step forward. "You don't really ever judge me, even though you pretend to. And I can be difficult."

"But we both know that, and we know that even though it's hard, we will never be alone." Watanuki's face was calm, content. He took a step forward.

It's so clear.

Doumeki took another step forward, and felt something pure and strong kindling in his body, something stronger than he had ever felt before. He felt that with this, he could drive out anything that he faced, anything that he wanted. It was a power so great that it could barely contain itself. Looking up at Watanuki's blue and gold eyes, he knew that he felt the same power surging through his veins.

He steeped forward and grasped Watanuki's outstretched hand. It was warm and full of life. Watanuki returned his grip, closing his eyes.

The mushi screamed one last, agonizing scream, and disintegrated completely into the whiteness of the atmosphere.

Doumeki felt the warmth of his body seep into Watanuki's, felt the slight frame underneath him flare with a sudden life. He snapped back to earth, to the small room with the flickering light, anxiously watching over them both. He watched Watanuki's breathing become even, and his body begin to move. He would live.

Without a moment of hesitation, he leaned down and touched his lips to Watanuki's. Feeling the warmth of his breath and the softness of his lips, he lingered there, gently. He felt only a slight hesitation before Watanuki opened up in response. Through the light of the lantern and the coolness of the night, they shared one connection== one moment of souls and fingers entwined. The moment seemed to last forever.

Watanuki's hand reached up and smoothed down Doumeki's touseled hair, tracing his ear and his jawbone. His cheeks were flushed—he looked a little embarrassed. But somehow, this time, not embarrassed enough to pull away.

"What are you doing, you jerk," he murmured, letting his hand fall. Doumeki grasped it gently and raised it to his face.

"It's just as much your fault as it is mine."

"…I know."

Yuuko sighed, leaning back onto intricately decorated pillows. "They did it. It's gone, it's done."

Mokona plopped down beside her on the couch, huffing in a satisfied manner. "Yes, they did."

Noticing the absence of smoke curling from her pipe, the time witch began to add her scented leaves to the ashy bowl. "They did very well. All a result of my training, of course."

Mokona scoffed. "And by training, you mean all the housework you made Watanuki do, and all the sake you drank with Doumeki."

"All is part and partial," Yuuko remarked sagely, looking up at the brightly colored bird perched on the tea shelf. It chirruped, seemingly and out of place in the dark, smoky room. "Go on, then," Yuuko smiled, waving a long hand at it. "Return to your master. Tell her all is well."

Mokona slid the door open and the bird flow out in a soaring arc, twittering in happiness. He watched it fly out into the distance, disappearing through the gate. "It must have been really hard, though. They were always fighting that part of them."

Yuuko frowned slightly, tapping her pipe. "And you talk as if they will not continue fighting it." Mokona tilted his head, curious. "No?"

"If there's one thing you know about those two, it is that they will take their sweet time finding a dynamic that is harmonious," Yuuko grinned. "But luckily their feelings are so strong, it is only inevitable that they find peace with it. Besides," Yuuko paused, tracing the rim of her sake cup with one finger. "They are so much more fun this way."

Mokona smiled brightly. "Yeah, you're right. Himawari might be disappointed if they stopped arguing."

Yuuko's expression was gentle. "As would I."

Together, they watched the moon, still and silent, watching over the house and its inhabitants. It was the same moon watching over the two young souls, sleeping peacefully in the small outer room of the temple.

It was a clear night.

Thank you to all readers and patient followers of the story. As always, I am grateful that you stuck with the story and read it to its end. I am happy that there are supporters of this pairing and I hope that we all continue to follow the example of friendship that they show.

I am encouraged by readers' support to continue with my other stories and ideas. Thank you again.

Until next time,

~mindpaper