Watanuki heaved a long sigh as he read the list of ingredients he needed to get for yet another one of Yuuko’s impossible sake-complimentary cuisines. After his unexpected ‘ordeal’ that night in his bathroom, Watanuki found it even harder to live life the way he normally does, well, being chased after restless spirits aside, that is. One look at Doumeki sent shivers down his spine and memories of his unnatural behaviour began swarming in his brain like bees over honey. He avoided him as much as he could at school, running or looking away every time he caught sight of him or notice Doumeki come over to want to say—or do—something to him, and stayed away from any mission given by Yuuko that had to involve Doumeki in it, despite the fact that any refusal of missions would result him into household chores coming in threefold.
He never gave him any chance of approaching him. Not a single chance, for there was no way he wanted history to repeat itself again. One intrusion and one near-miss was enough for him to handle.
He knew this was very cowardly and avoiding people was not the wisest and mature thing to do, but he’d rather be away from the problem than facing it head on. He wasn’t much of a sucker for confrontations anyway. He began to consider the option of transferring to a new school altogether and quit working for Yuuko and let his gift of ghost-seeing—his curse was more like it—settle itself.
“Teme! This is ridiculous! I’ve faced countless of benign and malignant spirits throughout my childhood and now here I am cowering away from a mortal! What’s gotten into me?!”
Watanuki didn’t need a genius to tell him that he was afraid to face Doumeki. He was terrified of his temper and horrified at the possibility of him pinning him onto the wall or onto the ground in some closet or toilet or something and be shagged senseless again. He was afraid of pissing him off again with one of his careless rant and end up having to endure another series of beatings. He had never felt so afraid of anyone before. The last time he was that afraid of a person instead of a spirit was the big bully in his grade school, yet he managed to keep that kid out of his hair by telling him that he had the spirit of a dead dog he had tortured to death following him around. Doumeki was different. Nothing scared him, nothing surprised him and there sure hell is nothing that can provoke him to do anything.
Until now.
As he continued window shopping and hunting for ingredients, he passed by a bread and confectionary shop and saw dozens upon dozens of heart-shaped chocolate decorated with all kinds of icing imaginable set in display for tons of schoolgirls to admire and squeal at. He noticed the advertisements outside the shop and realized that Valentine’s Day had arrived and that it had actually been two weeks since that fateful day when Doumeki asked him about the date of Valentine’s Day and the horrible aftermath. He doubt he’d get any chocolates this year; he had never got any ever since he reached puberty and he had been distancing himself from Himawari as well, though it pained him to do so, just to avoid seeing that son of a gun because he knew he’d show up if she was around him and that he—the man with ‘a million faces’—be the first to receive chocolates from her. He heaved another long sigh again as he continued to admire the chocolates quietly along with the schoolgirls. So near, yet so far… Kuso… he thought grudgingly.
Suddenly, he felt the presence of something familiarly cold. He turned and saw that it was one of those suicide spirits unable to pass on because of their sinful act of taking their own lives. It was looming over a pharmacy shop billboard and staring at him with its empty sockets, looking rather eerie and malicious. It seemed as if it was bent on wanting to take over someone else’s body so that it can continue to live on in this world like it had never died. Definitely not one of those friendly spirits, Watanuki thought.
Careful not to arouse attention, Watanuki slowly inched his way out of the bread and confectionary shop he was in and left, pretending not to notice the spirit’s presence. As soon as he got his butt off the bench, the spirit jumped off the billboard and zoomed in front of him in a split second, its socket eyes glaring intently at his blue ones. The hair behind his neck began to stand on its end as he could smell the foul breath of decay emitted from the spirit’s mouth. He tried to back away slowly but the spirit kept coming close to him, its empty sockets never leaving him and its mouth form on its misty face into an eerie grin that spelled trouble.
“Give…me…life…”
That was all it took for Watanuki to take to his heels. He ran and ran, trying to get away from the suicide spirit whose sole intention is to live again in his body. He tried swerving here and there and going into any possible junction he could find to lose it, but it didn’t show any indication of leaving him alone. He hit numerous people and almost got run over by cars but that didn’t seem to slow it down. In fact, it was getting faster and faster by the minute. Watanuki could feel the cold touch of its fingers as it tried to reach its jugular and its decaying breath wrapping around him like a stain that just wouldn’t go away.
Without warning, he suddenly bumped into what seemed like a broad chest. He felt arms embracing him and suddenly the spirit dissolved into thin air, letting out a high-pitched shriek as it disappeared. He was relieved at the unexpected help and buried his face onto that broad chest, gasping for breath and trying to regain his composure.
“Oi, daijobu ka?”
Watanuki’s eyes widened in horror. He recognized that voice anywhere. He looked up and saw that the owner of the voice was none other than Doumeki Shizuka, the guy he had been trying to avoid almost everyday!
“Was it another spirit?” Doumeki asked stoically. No, Watanuki thought. Anyone but him…
“Ha…Hanase…” Watanuki whispered tentatively.
“Hmm?” Doumeki sounded surprised. He had expected Watanuki to yell.
“Hanase…Don’t touch me…”
Watanuki inched his way out of Doumeki’s embrace, pushing him away ever so softly. He still refused to make any eye contact with him. Seeing him didn’t exactly made his fear go away anymore than it did when the spirit was gone. He was about to leave when Doumeki suddenly reached over and grabbed him by the wrist and gave him an intent stare. He expected Doumeki to give him his viciously angry look he saw in their previous ‘uneventful’ conversations, yet this time his eyes were showing hints of…concern? Worry? Apology?
Before he knew it, the archer had led him quietly towards the temple shrine and sat him in the room where they had their Hyaku Monogatari that fateful summer night. Doumeki disappeared and came back with a tray holding two cups of green tea. He offered Watanuki a cup before drinking from his own. They sat there in silence for quite a long time until Watanuki couldn’t stand the thickness of it all.
“Anno…Doumeki, why am I here? Why did you bring me here?”
Doumeki looked at Watanuki, the cup never leaving his lips. He took one last sip before setting it down and replying, “Gomenasai.”
“Nani?” Watanuki thought he had heard something that would never exist in the archer’s vocabulary.
“I wasn’t feeling myself that day. I didn’t expect it to end like this.”
Like hell you didn’t, Watanuki thought, but he didn’t dare to say it out loud.
“It’s just that you constantly rant and rave and don’t really care what anyone else has to say and always jumping into ridiculous conclusions. I guess I…I just had enough of it.”
“You didn’t have to rape me,” Watanuki braved himself to say it, bracing himself for the worse.
“Like I said, I didn’t expect it to end like this. I was going to tell you sooner or later, but you never gave me the chance.”
“Tell me? About what?”
“I just got so angry somehow. I didn’t know what came into me. My grandfather did say that if I don’t break, my bottled-up feelings would catch up with me sooner or later. Guess you trying to break me didn’t turned out the way you expected.”
“Doumeki, what is it exactly you wanted to tell me about?”
Doumeki let out a silent sigh and dug his pocket, fishing out what seemed like a small box. He handed it to Watanuki and said, “Here. I was going to give it to you today.”
Watanuki took the box and eyed at it suspiciously. What was inside this box? A trap? A bomb? A prank gift? He couldn’t tell from Doumeki’s stoic expression to hint him what was inside the box. Looks like he had to find out for himself whether he liked it or not. He slowly opened the box and braced himself for the blow but it didn’t come. Instead, inside the box was actually a bracelet for men that had tiny rubies and a small tinkling bell that hung near the clasp. Watanuki took out the bracelet and admired the bracelet for a while when he realized that on the surface of the bell was an engraving of a Chinese word that translated as ‘Love’.
“Here, let me help you put it on,” Doumeki said as he came over towards Watanuki. Watanuki almost flinched when he felt Doumeki’s skin touch his when the archer helped him put on the bracelet on his left wrist. Why the sudden gesture? Why the sudden change of attitude? Why all this?
Doumeki must’ve noticed the questions in Watanuki’s eyes when he said, “This is a bracelet my grandmother used to wear as a wedding gift from her Chinese mother when she migrated here to marry my grandfather. It was supposed to be some sort of good luck charm that can keep away spirits because the rubies and the bell have been blessed by a Chinese high priest. My grandfather said the spirits cannot stand the sound of the bell. That’s what kept them away from harming my grandmother; to them, it sounded like nails on the blackboard.”
This was the first time Watanuki had heard Doumeki speak that much during the times they had been together. Watanuki asked tentatively, “Anno…doushite, Doumeki? I don’t understand…”
“It was a rather bad way of me trying to confess to you. I wanted to wait for this day to come to give you this and tell you how I feel, but…”
“H…How long have you…?” Watanuki began to understand what it was all about: the question of how long till Valentine’s Day, the beating, the raping, everything. Doumeki looked away, a slight red flushing through his tanned skin.
“Since…Since the first time I met you…”
SLAP!!!
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