I decided to sit down and conquer this last chapter. It put up a great fight, but finally surrendered.

Standard Disclaimer: xxxHolic belongs to the ladies of CLAMP, and this is a fanwork made without permission or profit, unless you count the ego-stroking that reviews bring.

Vulnerability

A xxxHolic fic by Tyigra

Chapter 5: The Rules of Contracts

When Watanuki first met Doumeki, he had disliked him instantly. There had been no particular reason for it, that he could recall, just a split-second, gut reaction. A few moments later he had begun picking out specific things about him that he didn't like, such as his quiet grace, his handsome face, his intelligence, his athleticism, his noble demeanor. All things that should have been positive traits, would have been if it was anyone else, but in Doumeki's case became excuses for the irrational repulsion that Watanuki felt for him. Getting to know him better only made it worse, made him look even harder and more unsuccessfully for the underlying reason behind why he should feel such animosity for such a good person. He couldn't explain it. By all means he should have been his friend. The man was so perfect it made his chest ache.

When Doumeki first met Watanuki, he had felt an attraction instantly. There had been no particular reason for it, that he could recall, just a split-second, gut reaction. A few moments later he had begun picking out specific things about him that should have turned him away, such as his obvious hostility, his irritating mouth, his clumsy flailing, his sickly appearance. All things that should have been negative traits, would have been if it was anyone else, but in Watanuki's case became endearing through the irrational desire that Doumeki felt for him. Getting to know him better only made it worse, made him find more easily and spy more often the kindness and gentleness kept hidden away for other people, never for him. There was no hope for it. By all means he should have given up. The man hated him so much it made his chest ache.

Watanuki attracted his solution as surely as he attracted his problem.

Doumeki repelled the one who needed his aid as surely as he aided him.

It was in their blood. They never even suspected.

Yet even as they came together to amplify their powers, so did they cancel each other out. The feelings that were not their own were diminishing, and as they did, the real emotions that had been taking root under the surface were at last sprouting forth.

Watanuki felt an unaccustomed sweatiness on his palms as he turned the doorknob of his apartment door to leave for school that morning. Waiting outside would be the man who had somehow turned his world upside down. He had spent the whole evening thinking about him, the whole night dreaming about him, and the whole morning cooking for him.

But upon opening the door, to his great surprise, Doumeki wasn't there.

Watanuki stared blankly at the empty space where his classmate should have been standing. After a moment, he turned his head and peered both ways down the hallway outside his apartment door, his eyes still fully anticipating the black-uniformed silhouette of the man who had promised only yesterday to be there come morning. As far as he knew, Doumeki was a man who took great effort to always keep his promises. So why was he not looking into a pair of burning golden eyes right now?

A brief whisper from a bad dream flickered though Watanuki's mind. I'll always protect you. That's a promise.

Rather disconcerted, Watanuki locked his door and headed down the stairs. Perhaps he was waiting at the entrance. No? Well, how about the street? Upon reaching the sidewalk he looked up and down the block, and was rather surprised at the sudden sense of relief that washed over him upon seeing Doumeki round the corner. For a moment there it almost looked like he was limping, but upon spotting Watanuki his expression softened and he headed that way, his walk perfectly normal.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Mr. Perfect was running late."

Doumeki studied his face, as if trying to determine if Watanuki was mad or not. He quickly realized he was teasing and leveled a faint smirk in return. "Just thought you should know how if feels for once." Watanuki opened his mouth to make an indignant retort but was cut off as the other continued speaking. "What kind of contract shall we make today?"

Watanuki closed his mouth with a click and averted his gaze, swallowing hard. Come on, you stewed over this all night. Don't back down now. Be strong! Fidgeting with the cloth of his bento, he glanced at his companion. Doumeki was watching him from the corner of his eye, looking for all the world like the answer didn't matter to him in the least. If you ignored the fact that he wasn't breathing, that is.

Just do it all at once, like ripping off a band-aid. Staring straight ahead so he couldn't see Doumeki's face and loose his nerve, Watanuki thrust out the bento towards him.

"Please help me."

He could almost hear Doumeki's heart breaking.

"S…Shizuka."

He could definitely hear the sound of Doumeki remembering how to breathe again.

Since he wasn't looking that way, Watanuki jumped a little in surprise when a warm, slightly damp hand wrapped around his own before shifting down to take the bento. In the middle of the flush of color that washed over his face, he felt a touch of smugness with the realization that he had the power to make Doumeki's hands sweaty.

"Shall we go then, Kimihiro?"

Watanuki smiled up at him, rather pleased by the way his name sounded coming from Doumeki's lips. "Absolutely."

Shoop-thunk.

Watanuki was sitting on the floor a few feet from Doumeki, who was dressed in his archery uniform. It was still a while before classes started—they had come to school early since an archery meet was coming soon and Doumeki, ever the dedicated member, squeezed in practice every chance he got.

Shoop-thunk.

The last several shots had all been nearly dead-center. Watanuki had once given archery a try and couldn't even get the arrow to fly ten feet, so he was suitably impressed. It felt rather nice, he realized, to simply admit that he thought Doumeki was amazing, rather than suppressing such feelings and bad-mouthing him.

"Hey… Shizuka."

Shoop-chink!

To both their surprise, the arrow that Doumeki had been about to fire just as Watanuki spoke went wild, missing the target by several feet and hitting the wall behind it. Doumeki stared at the errant arrow with an accusatory glare, as if it had betrayed him.

"Ah, sorry. I guess I broke your concentration," Watanuki said apologetically.

Doumeki shook his head and selected another arrow. "What were you saying?"

"Oh, it was…gosh, what was I going to say?" He scratched his head in embarrassment before looking up again suddenly. "Oh yeah. Shizuka—"

Doumeki, about to draw the bow, completely dropped the arrow. It clattered on the ground a few feet from where Watanuki was sitting. The slimmer boy gazed at it in wonderment before looking up at the archer's face. He had closed his eyes (in frustration? Embarrassment?) and was letting out a deep sigh. Watanuki cocked his head in puzzlement before a slow grin tugged the corner of his lips. Getting his feet under him, he collected the arrow and handed it back to the fumbling boy, making sure his hands graced the other's as he asked in a teasing whisper, "what's wrong, Shi-zu-ka?"

The larger hands gripped his own, arrow and all, and yanked him closer. Watanuki's eyes widened in surprise as he met the glare of gold, and suddenly he felt less sure of himself. Did his teasing go too far? Then the stare drifted down to his lips, and he realized, oh, the teasing did go too far in a manner of speaking. Doumeki looked very much like a starving wolf about to rip him to pieces. A very strong… powerful…wolf…

Before Watanuki could decide if he was frightened or aroused, the peal of a bell broke across the school grounds, bringing them back to their senses. Doumeki would have to hurry and change to get to class on time. Letting go very reluctantly, he took the arrow and collected the rest. Watanuki remained rooted to the spot, in a bit of a daze, until Doumeki vanished into the changing room. With a start, he quickly gathered his things and headed off to his homeroom.

Angry at himself for loosing his self control, Doumeki slammed open his club locker door and ripped his school uniform off the hanger, almost missing the note that fell out. It fluttered to the floor and landed on his foot, a plain white envelope. Curious, he picked it up and checked the front. In tiny printed letters it read: 'For Doumeki.' Opening it up, he examined the simple white card inside and immediately his stern features grew sterner.

'He's only toying with you.'

Glancing around the clubroom he saw no one, nor any signs that anyone else had been in that morning. Doumeki was fairly certain that the note hadn't been in his locker when he hung his uniform up. Had someone been spying on them while he practiced? But the note was typed; it had to have been made ahead of time. Who could possibly know about the two of them?

The only one he could think of was Yuuko, simply because she always seemed to know what her employee was up to. But he could not imagine her leaving such an obviously hurtful note for him to find. So…who? And why?

Final bell found Doumeki safely in his seat at homeroom, where he stood and bowed with the other students upon their teacher's entrance. First subject began as usual, but for once the model student couldn't keep his attention from wandering. His notebook sat open before him unmarked, his pencil held limply in his fingers as he stared unseeing at the chalkboard. Somewhere beyond that wall sat the object of his distraction, no doubt not listening to his teacher either. Was he thinking about him, too? Or about other things?

In only five short days their relationship had drastically changed. He had felt so desperate when his eye began showing him images of a dark fog descending upon his point of view, Watanuki's point of view, yet no matter how he ran and searched he could not find the boy. Once he had come upon them at last and furiously shot the monster into oblivion, his heart nearly broke when Watanuki, frightened out of his wits and injured, broke down in his arms and clung to him till he at last succumbed to exhaustion. Maybe Doumeki wasn't very good at showing what he was feeling, but why couldn't Watanuki see that he wasn't his enemy? That he wasn't out to make things difficult for him? That he…cared about him?

When Watanuki, barely conscious, had kissed him underwater, he had been caught completely by surprise. While he had been bringing air to the boy, mouth-to-mouth, he had refused to think of it as anything more than the life-saving business it was, though he knew if they survived that ordeal the feel of soft lips would likely plague his dreams for a long time thereafter. The kiss he received, however, could not be mistaken for anything but what it was, and it was a long time before he managed to fall asleep that night.

The kiss he received two days later, however, shocked him to his core. In that one moment the future as Doumeki knew it had expanded to infinite possibilities. For the first time, it seemed, he could let himself entertain his dreams. He needn't necessarily spend the rest of his life being ignored, insulted, and hurt by the one person his life had come to revolve around. He could feel the powers he had no control over erupt like a fountain from his soul and wrap protectively around the boy that he already planned to follow to the ends of the earth, whether he liked it or not. Was he still dreaming? It seemed too good to be true, too unlikely to be happening; yet he could feel the shift in weight as fingers reached up to run through his hair, and the thin body he was wrapping his arms around and pulling tightly to him was firm and warm. For the first time, Doumeki imagined that things really could be different.

And then the kiss ended, and he realized that he had gotten really carried away. Watanuki had just wanted to form a contract; Doumeki was the one who went and turned it into an extremely embarrassing situation. He was infinitely grateful that his schoolmate decided to shrug off the incident instead of holding it against him like he usually would. From now on he would have to be more careful, keep himself under stronger self-control. But the damage he'd done to himself was irrevocable. He'd allowed himself to sincerely imagine a future he'd tried so hard not to dream of. If things were harder from now on, it was his own damn fault.

And then things did get harder. He got his vision stolen. With no other way to finish their business, he was forced to place Watanuki in a no-doubt uncomfortable situation. Arms wrapped around him, Doumeki's battle was more with his self-control than with the object of their mission. Though all he wanted was to savor the sensation, he refused to allow himself the pleasure, instead trying to focus on finishing the task as quickly as possible before he could dream of rosy futures again. But that idiot made it so difficult! First he went and fell asleep in his arms, which was bad enough, but upon waking he kept wiggling and getting entirely too close! It wasn't until Watanuki's face was a few inches from his, breath flowing over his lips in the dark, that Doumeki finally realized he was doing it on purpose.

Why, you little bastard, he thought in irritation. It's hard enough to control myself when you're clueless. How am I supposed to hold out when you're trying to make me lose it?

And then Watanuki sat on him, and hell broke loose in Doumeki's head. Why are you doing this? I've tried so hard! He thrashed under the other's pressure as his body tried to hold back. I can't stop dreaming if you keep giving me hope! I can't…can't… Suddenly his lips were being devoured, and there was no possible excuse this time.

If Watanuki was going to give him permission to live out the future he didn't even dare to dream, then damnit, he was going take up the offer!

The school bell suddenly intruded into Doumeki's thoughts, and he realized he had missed the entire lecture. Frustrated, he decided to take a quick trip to the bathroom to wash his face. Maybe it would wake him up. Besides, those particular thoughts were giving him a… problem.

As he walked through the halls he recalled his walk to Watanuki's apartment yesterday after that incident. He wasn't going to let things slide, that time. Though he could see how embarrassed the other boy was, he knew if he let him escape back to his room without saying anything, he would try his best to reason the incident away and pretend it never happened. Not this time, my idiot. There's no way I'm letting things return to the status quo now. And to his surprise, it didn't take much. With no time to collect himself and rebuild his fallen mental walls, Watanuki couldn't hide anymore. There were no contracts, no accidents, and no heat-of-the-moment desires to explain away the kiss they shared on his doorstep. Didn't that mean…he meant it?

He splashed his face with cold water, letting it shock him into alertness. As he pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket to dry his hands, a white envelope fluttered to the ground. He glared at it with a tingling sense of foreboding. There was no way someone could have slipped an envelope in his pocket without him noticing it, unless they had placed it there the same time they placed the other one. In that case, did it say the same thing? The envelope once again proclaimed him to be the rightful recipient in clean type. He picked it up, looking around for anyone who might be watching, but he was alone. There was nowhere to throw it away, and besides, that was a coward's way out. Ripping it open and tearing out the card inside, he schooled his expression and calmly flipped the card over.

Then flung the card away as if he had been burned.

Impossible! He stared at the card as if it were one of the ghosts he was incapable of seeing as it slowly soaked up the drops of water in the sink. It's…it's just a coincidence! Turning on the water, he let the card turn to mush and stuffed it down the drain. Then, somewhat ashamed of his reaction, he turned and headed back to class, shoulders hunched and brooding.

There's no coincidence in this world, Watanuki had often said, quoting his employer, only the inevitable. But for the card to have had that message, and for him to have read it right then…it was as if the card was not a pre-printed message, but a rebuttal to his very thoughts!

As he settled into the chair at his desk once more, a dark cloud seemed to have settled over him. The day had started out so well. Well, aside from that thorny vine from an unkempt fencerow that almost tripped him up right as a car went by. He managed to keep his feet under him just long enough to avoid being hit, but he still had received a few scratches on his leg that burned his skin all the way to Watanuki's apartment. The pain had vanished shortly after that, though, and they were finally on a first name basis. If he could just avoid any more of those stupid cards, today could still be a marvelous start to his new relationship with Kimihiro.

But still, the message on the card bothered him

'He'll never 'mean it.''

As Watanuki struggled to copy the next line off of the chalkboard onto his notes, he rubbed his forehead for the umpteenth time with a grimace. Maybe wearing his old glasses wasn't such a good idea. The incorrect subscription was giving him a splitting headache. Every time he tried to shift focus from the page in front of him to the board across the room or vice versa, a pain shot through him like someone stabbing a steak knife right between his eyes. Finally he took his glasses off and just covered his eyes, giving up on copying anything else down today. How much longer until lunch? Some aspirin and good food ought to help clear away his headache. And good company.

He must have dozed off that way, for he woke with a start when the lunch bell rang. Never happier to get out of class, he put his glasses back on and gathered his things. After a quick stop by the nurse's office, he raced outside to the usual spot where he and his two friends always ate lunch. Himawari was already arriving, her very presence as uplifting a sight as always.

"Himawari-cha~n!" he called out joyfully, then winced as his own volume hurt his head. "You're looking absolutely radiant today!"

"Thank you, Watanuki-kun! I would say the same, but you look rather pale. Are you all right?"

"Oh, ah," he laughed weakly as they unwrapped the bentou box and set out the blanket to sit on. "I have a teensy bit of a headache. I lost my glasses yesterday and my old pair is disagreeing with me."

"That's terrible," she responded with sweet sympathy. "Have you taken any medicine for it yet?"

"Yeah, just now from the nurse. I'm hoping it will kick in by the time lunch is over."

"I hope so! Where did you lose your glasses? Maybe I can help you look for them after school."

"Ah! That won't be necessary, Himawari-chan, but thank you all the same! I actually meant that they're broken. I'll have to pick up some new ones." As he spoke he finished unstacking the lacquer boxes laden with food, placing them neatly beside each other. "Where's Shizuka? I thought he would be here with our drinks by now?"

"I heard that his teacher held him back after class let out. Apparently he wasn't paying any attention today, even reading letters in class…that's just not like him."

Watanuki stared into the distance, watching a bird flutter across the grounds. I bet they were love letters from his fangirls, he thought grumpily, then jumped as Himawari's face suddenly appeared in front of his, her glowing smile graced with perhaps a touch of playfulness. "So, when did you start addressing him by his given name?"

"I—what? I did no such thing! I don't know what you're talking about." To his horror, he realized that his cheeks were starting to get warm. Thinking about this morning was making him remember yesterday, which was not something he wanted to think about right in front of Himawari-chan! His head pounded again, making him wince.

"I think it's wonderful! It just shows how close you two are! You sure are lucky to have such a strong bond!"

"No~o, Himawari-cha~n! How do you always come to that conclusion?" With wild flailing of his arms, Watanuki slipped into their comfortable old routine. "It's nothing like you think! Sh—Doumeki and I are just…just…"

"Just what?" asked a deadpan voice. Startled, Watanuki looked up to see the object of their argument standing over them with a handful of drinks from the vending machine, looking decidedly pissed off. Feeling a smidgen guilty, he stood and took the drinks from his hands. "Ah, we were just…you know…playing around."

"Which 'we'?" he asked, and now Watanuki felt certain that Doumeki was mad at him. Without a word the latecomer spun around and began walking away.

"W—where are you going?"

"Home. I'm not feeling well today."

As Watanuki watched him stalk off, he felt an odd sinking sensation in his stomach. Sounds were growing less distinct, colors less vibrant, even the air felt like the life was being drained out of it. Was it just because he was feeling bad about Doumeki leaving? No, something was really fading away, disappearing…

Our contract is gone!

Watanuki stared at the retreating figure in shock. Why? How? What happened? Every contract was supposed to last for a day! How could it… break? Yuuko's words drifted forward from the bottom of his recollections of yesterday. Almost all contracts can be nullified by an opposite act of equal force. Written contracts could be destroyed, handshakes could be…something. What was it for spoken contracts? Denied or renounced, something like that. He quickly reviewed his conversation with Himawari-chan, but he couldn't see how anything he had said could be taken as revoking his request for help. Denying the nature of their relationship, maybe, but nothing to do with the contract. Why did it break? It didn't make sense!

Collapsing onto the 'picnic' cloth, Watanuki's eyes sank to the drinks in his hands. There was a lemonade for Himawari, a fruit drink for him, and a green tea for Doumeki. Wrapped around the tea, oddly enough, was a white envelope, stuck by the condensation. Curious, he peeled it off and read the address. 'For Doumeki.' Paying no regard to the fact that it wasn't for him, Watanuki broke the seal and pulled out the white card that was inside. Flipping it over, he stared at it in confusion. There was no message, yet it gave him a creepy feeling. Who would send Doumeki a blank card?

Watanuki ate his lunch in morose silence while Himawari chatted half-heartedly about nothing in particular, watching him with sad eyes. How quickly his mood had changed, even though Doumeki had said so little. When at last lunchtime was over, they had barely eaten anything. It just wasn't the same.

The next thing Watanuki knew, classes were over and he was trudging past the school gates with the rest of the masses. The second half of the day had been a blur; he didn't remember a single thing the teachers had said. He just wanted it to be over, and yet he also dreaded it ending. With a heavy heart he turned to head to Yuuko's shop, the rest of the crowd falling away and leaving him in silence.

He walked right past Yuuko before he pulled his eyes away from his feet and spotted her. Surprised, he trotted over to her side where she was leaning against a wall, shielding herself from the sun with a parasol. "Yuuko-san, what are you doing here? Are we going out somewhere today?"

"No," she replied, a grin twisting her lips. "But the most amusing thing happened to me this afternoon. A stray showed up across the street with a request. It seems that even when you two are fighting, your guard dog won't let you walk home alone."

"Doumeki…asked you to come?" he gaped. Guilt washed over him once more. Eyes dropping to the ground again, he shuffled after Yuuko, feeling the questions burn in his chest. Where to start? What should he say? What did Yuuko know already?

"Say…Yuuko-san?"

"Yes, Watanuki Kimihiro?"

"Can you tell me more about…contracts?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Suppose a contract broke, even though you didn't do anything that should have severed it. Why would that be?"

Yuuko turned her head and gazed at the crestfallen boy with sad eyes. "The most likely answer is that it was a different kind of contract then you thought it was. How was it formed?"

"This morning…I asked Doumeki for help just like I'm supposed to, and he agreed. Isn't that a spoken contract?"

"Was that all you did?"

Watanuki blushed, but they hadn't kissed today, so that wasn't the problem. His forehead wrinkled as he tried to think of anything else, then suddenly he looked up and met her gaze in realization. "We agreed to start calling each other by our given names!"

"Ah, it all makes sense now. Your spoken contract was actually overridden by a stronger one: a contract of friendship. You formed one this morning with Doumeki, yet now…it is gone." Her eyelids slid lower as she stopped walking, peering at her employee through heavy eyelashes. She waited for the question.

"How…" he swallowed, then tried again. "How is a contract of friendship broken?" Somehow he knew he was going to regret the answer.

"By the perception of betrayal."

Watanuki stared at Yuuko with the shocked and injured expression of one who has just been slapped. Resuming her walk, she continued in an almost cheerfully businesslike tone. "I say perception because a friendship can be ruined even if no betrayal has taken place, as long as one of members believes that it is so. It's rather tragic, actually, because it means that an outside party can break a contract that does not involve them, simply by sowing the seeds of doubt. But on the other hand, a contract broken in such a manner can be repaired by the restoration of truth and a renewal of faith. Very little can repair a true betrayal."

"Did—did"—and to Watanuki's shame he realized that his eyes were burning and his throat was growing so tight he could barely speak—"did anyone interfere in this case?"

Mercifully, Yuuko pretended she didn't notice his distress. "It's possible. Hand me that card in your pocket." Watanuki pulled it out in surprise; he had forgotten all about the mysterious blank note. Handing it to the Space-Time Witch, he watched her with pleading eyes as she studied it carefully. Her expression darkened as she announced her verdict. "This is a seed."

"What do you mean, seed? Maybe before it grew up and got used for paper…"

"It was sowed upon Doumeki by a plant, most likely before you two formed your contract today, while he was more vulnerable. It must have possessed a powerful force, to get past his natural defenses. Once planted, the seeds found fertile ground by inflaming his insecurities and aggravating his doubts. The text that is missing from this card," she gestured with the offending white slip, "no doubt served as the medium for communication between them. Though blank to us, the words must have had great affect on him, to cause a contract so long in the making to break so easily."

Watanuki digested this, trying to decide if such news was good or bad. "In the end, it means that the damage can be repaired…right?"

"It's not that simple. These aren't 'seeds of doubt' in the sense that they started the problem. The only reason they could take root is because their food was already present. If you want to remove these parasites, you must make their host unsuitable for consumption. In other words, you must identify and sooth the worries that originally formed in Doumeki's heart."

Heart sinking to his stomach, Watanuki felt his timid hope shrivel away. Sooth Doumeki's hidden worries? How? The man was as unreadable as a brick, how was he supposed to divine the secrets locked behind those golden eyes? What did he even know about the man anyway? He lived with his parents in a temple, and his grandfather was a powerful priest. He did well in all his classes, excelled at archery, and was thought favorably upon by all his peers. He was knowledgeable about folk tales and history, open minded about the world beyond his perception, levelheaded, dependable…perfect. Watanuki was all too aware of the many virtues of Doumeki; they had once annoyed him to no end, after all. Yet somehow, though he had at last allowed himself to admit that all those merits were, indeed, merits, he had not yet come to consider that the man was human just like himself. That he was not as rock-solid as his stony expressions led him to believe, but in fact possessed a flesh-and-blood, easily wounded heart. A heart so deceptively tender, in fact, that he kept it well guarded from showing upon his face.

I'm…I'm a right rotten monster, Watanuki suddenly realized.

Like stones crashing upon his head, his actions the past few days flashed through his mind and weighed heavily upon his conscience. He had already stumbled upon the amazing discovery that Doumeki harbored desires for him that no man should have for another man, and even more amazingly, discovered that he himself was not exactly adverse to the idea. And yet…he would never have treated Himawari-chan the way he was now treating his new 'boyfriend.' Things hadn't advanced between them because of heartfelt affections. They had advanced because Watanuki was full of pride, had found a weakness, and kept getting carried away by the heady rush of victory.

What have I done? Is it any wonder he's full of doubts? He's practically handed his heart to me on a silver platter, and I've been spinning it on a stick for my own cheap after-dinner amusement!

Yuuko watched the emotions play out across the young man's face with resigned sadness. She could imagine what her dear employee was thinking and knew it was a bitter lesson to learn, but also a necessary one. She waited until he had stewed it over long enough, then interrupted with an important observation. "I hope Doumeki is alright. Emotional damage may seem bad enough, but the plant that will grow from these seeds will pose quite a danger to his health now that the contract is gone and his powers have decreased in strength."

Alarm flooded though Watanuki as thoughts of tearing off in the direction of Doumeki's temple suddenly dominated his mind. For the first time, he realized that Yuuko had been leading him along the route that ran closest to his place. Of course. She probably knew something was wrong with Doumeki the moment she saw him outside her shop's entrance. A little warmth seeped in through his panic as he realized that he would always have an ally in Yuuko (even if her aid would always cost him.) As they grew closer to their destination he began thinking about the task at hand, and once again the problem of contracts tugged at his mind.

"Yuuko, are there any stronger, longer contracts? Those seeds might never have touched him this morning if only he'd still been protected. Or maybe, are there contracts that can't be broken?"

She stared into the distance, her expression blank. "Anything that can be created can also be destroyed. There exists nothing in this world or any other that cannot be undone. A contract is merely an agreement between two or more parties. It is the sincerity and effort of those involved that give a contract its strength." She sighed, and turned to face him once more. "As for contracts that last until nulled, instead of for a single day, there are many. Your vow of friendship this morning was one of them, actually. Any upgrade in the nature of a relationship is a contract, which is why people often choose to commemorate them with a physical symbol of their bond. An exchange of tokens is quite popular between friends and lovers. In some cultures the strongest of friendships are marked by the mingling of blood. Marriage is a multifold contract, consisting of anything and everything from spoken vows, written signatures, exchanging tokens and names, and the merging of bodies and souls. That is why they leave so much damage behind when broken."

As silence filled in the space left by Yuuko's words, the Buddhist temple that served as Doumeki's family home finally came into view. Watanuki stared at the gate entrance with apprehension as it inevitably grew closer with every step. He still felt woefully unprepared. Doumeki was the one who always rescued him, not the other way around. The problems were never Doumeki's fault, either. But no matter how much he wanted to curl up in a ball right now and drown in his own guilt, he knew it wouldn't solve anything. More than hurt feelings were at stake right now; he had no time to hide from what needed to be done under the pretense of 'working up his nerve.'

This time Doumeki was the vulnerable one, and it was up to Watanuki to protect him.

"What do you plan to do?" Yuuko asked.

At last, Watanuki felt his resolve harden into iron determination as he found his answer. "Everything I can. Until we are together again."

The Dimensional Witch smiled as she watched him walk boldly across the threshold and slowly disappear from her sight. It was a sign of how much the boy had changed, she reflected, that he could finally say such a thing about the one person from whom he had tried so hard to stay apart.

Hundreds of small white slips of paper fluttered in the breeze on the tree branches that they had been tied around. The lower bows of the pine tree looked as though they had been covered by a heavy snow. Once Watanuki realized that Doumeki was not inside the temple, it did not take long to find him, simply because the blaze of white was so out of place. As he approached he spotted the object of his search, sitting against the base of the tree and surrounded by a snowdrift of more paper that had yet to be tied. He knew in his heart that those white cards were not merely omikuji with poor fortunes.

"Isn't this the wrong kind of temple for that?"

Doumeki raised his head, revealing the dark circles under his blank eyes. Vines encircled his legs and arms, tying him to the ground. For a moment they stared at each other in silence, and Watanuki feared that Doumeki was going to decide to ignore him, until he finally responded. "Grandfather was a Shinto priest, actually." His gaze settled lower to the pile on his lap. "I was hoping that if I tied them up properly they would stop coming back, but…" He shrugged, and a few pieces of white fluttered down from the tree to land upon his slouched form. As Watanuki looked closer, he could see that the pieces of paper were not fluttering in the wind as he had first thought, but were in fact gently wriggling themselves free. The sight sent a cold shiver up his spine.

Sitting down beside him, he picked one up and smoothed it out, wishing he could read it. The task set before him seemed enormous. The determination he had marched in with was withering away simply because he couldn't figure out how to begin. Logic said he should start at the beginning, but what was that? The beginning of this day? The moment he realized that Doumeki was attracted to him? The start of their partnership for his safety? When they first met?

Perhaps, he realized, he should start at the end instead.

"Yuuko told me that our contract broke today because you felt betrayed," he spoke softly. Doumeki merely stared at him with his glazed eyes, so he continued. "This morning we agreed to more than a temporary partnership, we agreed to be friends. It was supposed to be a turning point in how we treat each other, and yet at lunch I was running my mouth off and denying it, denying you, just like always. Maybe old habits are hard to break, but that's no excuse for what I said. I know how much this means to you, and yet my resolve was only skin-deep. You…you have every right to be furious with me."

There was a long pause, filled only with the unnatural rustling of paper. The vines crept a little higher up his arms. "I'm not angry," Doumeki finally said.

"Well you should be!" Watanuki shouted, an icy shudder running through his heart. This wasn't the way his rival-turned-guardian should be acting! His steely eyes shouldn't be so vacant, his strong arms shouldn't be lying so limply at his sides. Doumeki was stronger than anyone; he should be sitting here looking so defeated! "I've been a jerk! I'm a horrible bastard who's been yanking your chain and not taking you seriously and taking advantage of your feelings to make myself feel superior! There, I said it!"

Two things occurred to Watanuki simultaneously: that he had probably just confirmed half of what those nasty slips of paper had been saying, and that there was another reason why Doumeki was lying there and not fighting back. Doumeki was a very strong, very disciplined man. He had pride in his control and his ability to take care of himself. It was part of the reason Watanuki had hated him so much at first; he had the same pride, but not the ability to back it.

This was the first time Doumeki had been defeated by one of the spirits he was supposed to be so powerful against.

And now Watanuki realized that he'd walked into a battle that he could not win. Telling the truth would prove that the foul plant's whispers were right, and Doumeki would despair and be devoured. But disproving the notes would prove that Doumeki's doubts were unfounded; that he'd been full of weakness, and his broken pride would hold him in misery until he'd been devoured.

Watanuki gritted his teeth. How on earth could he save him? For once, he was the one whose help was needed, and he was still useless! "You're not weak, you know! Everyone has doubts. Hell, I'm a walking, talking bundle of insecurities! Why do you think I tried to push you away for so long? Next to you, I'm the most pathetic waste of space in Japan. You're everything I'm not, and I hated you for it! The fact that this monster was able to affect you so just proves that you're human!"

Watanuki loomed over him breathing hard, his fists clenched and trembling, but Doumeki merely stared at him with the same tired expression, the vines crawling further up his arms and reaching for his torso. Feeling desperation choke his throat like the pain that comes from too much crying, he collapsed to his knees and started dashing the little white papers to the side. Grabbing one of the encroaching vines, he snapped its stem and ripped it away. As he reached for the next one, however, it sprouted thorns like a rose, not touching its victim but daring the rescuer to continue.

Watanuki only hesitated for a moment. He may never be able to cook again if he didn't stop now, but it occurred to him that if he did he would have no one he wanted to cook for.

They were every bit as painful as he thought they'd be. Tears quickly blurred his vision and his hands grew slick and red, but bit-by-bit he pried the parasitic plant away from Doumeki's unresisting form. Partly to distract himself from the pain, and partly to snap some life back into his friend, he began babbling in a cracking voice. "Is it so bad to be human? If you weren't you'd be just another one of those monsters that have plagued me all my life. These past few days have been showing me how human and vulnerable you really are. And maybe I was taking advantage of that at first, but I really was happy. To think that someone like you could find something attractive about a nobody like me… it really…made me… happy…" He paused to try to clear the tears from his vision with the back of his hand, but only succeeded in smearing blood across his face and getting salt in his wounds. He hissed with pain and cursed his stupidity.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get along with you. I'm sorry I took advantage of your feelings. I'm sorry I'm such a terrible friend! I'm sorry…that I gave you so much reason to doubt. I'm sorry that…the one time you need me…I can't do a damn thing…" His grief overwhelming him, his voice leaving him, Watanuki peered through his tears for any more straggling vines. Most were scattered around them in the grass, beginning to shrivel up, some were stuck to his ragged hands like spider webs, and…there were none left on Doumeki. Staring in disbelief, he could only watch numbly as the little white notes blew in the non-existent wind like so many leaves trying to cover his lap. His hands were in too much pain to open the crumpled ones, but one sat obligingly open on the top of the stack for him to read.

'You saved his body, but were too late to save his mind.'

Watanuki started to laugh, and could not stop.

Perhaps the hysterical laughter coming from that blood smeared face stirred Doumeki's sense of wrongness. Perhaps Watanuki's pleading arguments found root with his logical mind. Maybe the realization that the plant had left him renewed his strength, or pricked his pride. Or maybe it was just the sight of Watanuki wobbling away, coaxing those damned little notes to follow him like baby ducklings with his red-splattered hands.

Whatever it was, Doumeki found his senses returning to him along with that rock-solid conviction that lived in his very soul; No matter how he feels about me, I must keep him safe.

Testing out his feet and finding that they would support him as always, he rose from the ground and closed in on the one he loved, stomping vindictively on a few of the tumbling pieces of paper. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Watanuki turned around and stared at him in surprise, then burst into a brilliant grin that made his stomach leap to his throat, even if the grin was on a face puffy from crying and smeared with blood and tears. "I'm saving you."

Doumeki paused a moment, letting his stomach slide back down where it belonged, and tightened his lips into a disapproving frown. Watanuki noticed and let his own grin fade. "Relax, I won't die. I'm used to living with doubt." A shadow crossed his eyes and he turned away, the white papers tumbling after his feet. Doumeki stared in shock, or as shocked as he was capable of being, anyway, before running ahead and blocking the other boy's path.

"How can you be so sure? You know you're weak against spirits, and this one was strong enough to get past my repelling nature!"

The shorter boy gazed at him as he pondered the question, his eyes already taking on the vacant cast Doumeki was sure he must been wearing himself only moments ago. "Well," he replied after a moment, "at least you'll live."

A surge of anger creased Doumeki's brow as he fisted Watanuki's shirt. "I thought we'd had this conversation before!" He rumbled through gritted teeth. "That'd you'd stop thoughtlessly sacrificing your life for others!"

"This is an exception," he replied calmly. His arms dangled limply by his sides, unable even if they were willing to protest his rough treatment.

"WHY?" he yelled in his face, showing more anger than he'd ever allowed himself before. "What makes this different than every other time?"

"This time its for the one I love most," he said softly, his eyes still cloudy but with sadness, not insanity.

Doumeki felt his fury leave him like waking up suddenly from a bad dream.

Watanuki felt the presence of the doubt seeds fluttering around his feet for attention, but ignored them. He didn't need to read them to know what they said. His hands felt like they were being tormented by stinging insects that injected pure fire, but he did his best to ignore them too. All that mattered was that he was finally, finally, sure of his feelings, and even if it was too late to save their relationship, at least he had admitted them while he still could.

Doumeki's face had gone completely blank at his confession. Not that he could blame him. He'd pretty much admitted that every horrible doubt that plagued the taller boy was true, and now he claimed to love him. How could he believe him? Even if he did, how could he still love him in return after the way he'd been treated?

The silence stretched on uncomfortably long. At last Doumeki let go of the shirt he was clenching and slumped forward, resting his forehead on Watanuki's chest and his hands on his shoulders.

"Oi."

Watanuki stayed silent, refusing to let his expectations or hopes cloud his perception of what was really happening. This was too important.

"Why don't we make a new contract." It was phrased as a question even if it wasn't spoken like one, which Watanuki found to be an endearing concession.

"Alright. What kind?"

Doumeki raised his head and looked him in the eye, removing one hand from his shoulder to wipe gently at the smudges on his temples. The blood was already dried, but he appreciated the gesture. The hand moved to grip him firmly by the chin instead, even though his piercing golden eyes were already doing a stellar job at freezing him to the spot.

"I, Doumeki Shizuka, swear that from now on I will trust you as much as I love you."

Oh.

Watanuki was grateful for the grip on his chin, for a light squeeze helped him remember that breathing is necessary for living. He was also grateful for the hand on his shoulder, because it kept him standing upright without forcing him to find purchase with his own hands, the use of which would have thoroughly spoiled the moment.

He found himself speaking before he'd even considered what he should say in return.

"A-and I, Watanuki Kimihiro, swear from now on that I will love you as much as I trust you."

The softening of Doumeki's eyes and the smile that borrowed his lips were so mesmerizing that Watanuki didn't even notice the way his hands had stopped actively burning, or the absence of the sound of rustling paper.

Neither one was sure who initiated the kiss, but it lasted long enough that Yuuko finally approached them and coughed politely, cheerily reminding them that someone still needed to be patched up.

Watanuki stared at his hands, which had been thoroughly cleansed, treated and gently wrapped by Doumeki. The latter part had seemed to venture away from the clinical and more towards the sensual, in his opinion. It had left him rather flustered, and the way Doumeki's gaze was currently burning a hole into the side of his head was not helping. They were seated together on a pile of cushions in one of the temple rooms, Yuuko lounging similarly across the way and grinning madly.

"Um…so…Yuuko! I guess you're going to charge me for the advice you gave me this afternoon, huh?"

"Oh don't worry, I'm getting my payment right now," she leered.

Doumeki moved closer and seemed to trap him to the cushions with the way his eyes were smoldering.

"D—Shizuka, I'm afraid I won't be able to make your lunch for a while. You'll have to wait a bit until I can apologize properly for breaking our first contract today." He laughed nervously.

"That's alright, Kimihiro," he murmured, and Watanuki shivered all over before glancing apprehensively at their audience. Doumeki moved even closer until he really was pinning him, his heavier frame radiating heat above him yet not quite touching. Watanuki found that half the blood in his body had rushed to his face. The other half had rushed—somewhere else. "There are ways you can repay me that don't use your hands."

"Shizuka!"

At long last, this story comes to a close. Those of you who were reading from the beginning: I'm so, so sorry that took so long! Thank you for sticking through all the way to end! To those who were lucky enough not to come across this story until it was done: I hope you enjoyed it! If so, please leave me a review! I do love thoughtful critiques, but even a simple "Well, it didn't suck that bad" is appreciated. :D