Under Watch

Doumeki jangled the keys as he walked up the front drive of the house. There was only an overhang to park his car under, which had originally been used for the family’s carriage when it wasn’t at the carriage house. The carriage house and stable building was beyond the cherry orchard by about a half-mile, but because that building had long been converted to a dance studio for the local children, Doumeki hadn’t had to worry about taking care of it, which suited him just fine. He figured he could build some walls to protect his car when if he needed it.

The gravel crunched under his feet in a welcoming sound. He decided that he would like coming home to that sound. The moving van was just pulling in behind him when he reached the front door and unlocked it. He relished the nostalgic feeling for a moment before directing the moving men to the kitchen with the fridge. The front parlor became his TV room, complete with comfy leather couch. The piano remained untouched at Yuko’s insistence. As soon as the moving men carted his bed upstairs, he got to work making it up with proper hospital corners like his grandfather had always taught him.

The office was the next thing to set up – desk, computer, bookshelves… All things he needed to have quickly if he were to keep up with his work as a correspondent journalist akin to Dear Abby and Miss Manners. His column, however, was more spiritual advice on how to meditate and purge the body and soul of toxins. It was quite popular among younger women. Thank god for pennames.

By late afternoon, nearly everything had been put in its place, and the moving van had departed. Doumeki sighed in satisfaction. Tomorrow he would convert the summer kitchen into a temple. He fingered the small key to the outside building in anticipation. Realizing he had yet to see the attic, Doumeki pocketed his keys and climbed upstairs. He pulled open the door and looked up into the yawning blackness above. Seeing and hearing nothing, he scrambled up the steep stair-ladder.

Some light filtered in through a small window that overlooked the orchard. He found an oil lamp mounted low on the wall and lit it to give extra light. He supposed that it was the perfect height for someone reading in bed to access. The attic had a few boxes of Yuko’s things, which she said he was welcome to look through. Curious, he sat down in front of one of them and pulled open the tucked flaps.

“Aaaaah!”

A black thing leapt out of the box straight at him and bounced off of him before scurrying to a corner of the attic. Doumeki cursed. Of course there’d be rats up here… He removed a shoe, ready to strike. Moving as silently as he could, Doumeki closed in on the offending creature.

“… Gotcha!” He yelled, slamming the shoe down, only to see his prey run away again, toward an old china cabinet.

“Where?”

Doumeki stopped. He’d heard a voice. He knew he had. “Hello?”

“Where is it?” The voice sounded distressed.

“Hello?” Doumeki tried again. He looked around. The only thing in the attic with him was the rat-thing. And said rat-thing was bouncing up and down and trying to pull open the cabinet doors. He blinked. Then he lowered his shoe and cautiously approached. After all, his grandfather had said that there were many strange things in this world, and not all of them could be explained away as hallucinations. Best be polite to all of them. “Can I help you?”

The rat-thing turned and looked his way. Its long ears touched the floor and it had rather large feet. So it was a rabbit-thing. “Oh. Hello. Sorry to startle you.”

“Not at all. What are you looking for?”

“A watch. Yuko said for Mokona to guard the watch, and Mokona fell asleep.” The thing looked so dejected that Doumeki was almost tempted to pat it on the head in a comforting gesture, but the thought of what kind of diseases it might carry deterred him.

“I’m sure Yuko would’ve taken anything of value with her.” Doumeki didn’t question how the thing was associated with Yuko. He decided he didn’t want to know.

“No. Yuko said Mokona must guard the watch until the tenant comes.”

“…” Doumeki blinked again. “I’m the new tenant.”

“Then you must take the watch!” It said happily. “Mokona remembers the watch is in this cabinet somewhere. “

“I’ll help you look.” Doumeki began pulling open drawers and sifting through papers with long-faded writing and journals filled with an older form of Japanese he hadn’t seen since his grandfather’s time. The cabinet must be an antique. When he pulled out a black-painted wood box with a butterfly on the lid, the thing… Mokona… began jumping around again.

“You found it! You found it!”

“O-okay.” Doumeki looked at the box. So the watch was inside it? But what would Yuko want to give him a watch for? And why not give him the watch when he signed the lease agreement? With some difficulty, he pulled the box open and looked inside. A pocket watch lay on crushed velvet padding, still shiny, still in the same condition it must have been in when it was placed inside.

“Mokona is hungry! Let’s get food.” Mokona led the way to the stairs and bounced straight down them, leaving Doumeki sitting in the attic for a few minutes, pondering this gift. Why a watch?


Mokona, it turned out, knew a lot about the house. There was an extensive collection of wine in the cellar, which Mokona insisted they break into. There was also a pantry with a few canned goods in it, but Mokona was quick to bring in a phonebook and select the most expensive delivery place listed and order foods that Doumeki had hardly even heard of. But, he supposed that it was all in celebration of him having his own place, an idea that Mokona fully supported.

“Shouldn’t you go back to Yuko now that I’m here?”

“Yuko won’t miss me. Yuko said I should remain until things reach their conclusion.”

“What things? What conclusion?”

But Mokona was suddenly silent on the subject. Doumeki supposed he didn’t mind. After all, it was a big house, and he could probably use the company. Mokona alos turned out to enjoy television quite a bit, particularly soap operas. Doumeki decided he didn’t want to know why the Mokona knew about soap operas. Doumeki went to bed after getting Mokona another bottle of wine. He figured his new housemate would know to turn off the TV when he was done with his soaps.

The next day, Doumeki worked on cleaning out the summer kitchen, which Yuko had apparently never touched. He swept and mopped and scrubbed down the counters before hauling out painted screens and panels that his grandfather had once had commissioned. In the old woodstove, Doumeki set up a small shrine. Other candles were set up and a few cushions were placed around the room. Ultimately, he was rather pleased with the result. It was serene and removed from the rest of his distractions… Speaking of which…

“Mokona is hungry. Are we done cleaning now?”

“What have you done to clean?” Doumeki asked, though he stood up anyway and allowed the black whats-it to hop onto his shoulder.

“Mokona was cleaning sake bottles.”

“By emptying the inside?”

“Yep!”

Doumeki allowed himself a chuckle and returned to the main house. He fixed Mokona and himself a sandwich, much to Mokona’s disappointment. He ignored the disgruntled mumblings about how Watanuki wouldn’t have made him eat just a sandwich and how if Watanuki had just made a sandwich, it would’ve at least looked more appealing. But when Mokona continued on about how Watanuki usually made baked fish tails, Doumeki snapped.

“If Watanuki’s so great, why don’t you just go find that person!”

“Can’t find Watanuki. Watanuki will find here.”

“Huh?”

“Hitsuzen!”

Doumeki decided that ‘Watanuki’ would get an earful as soon as he or she appeared. In the meantime, he decided to see if he couldn’t make the pocket watch actually work. He’d noticed earlier that the watch had stopped. Fortunately, his grandfather had had a watch very similar and so he knew how to take the watch apart and get it to start up properly.

Brow furrowed in concentration, he was only vaguely aware when Mokona hopped up onto the table where he was working and observed. If Doumeki had bothered to look up, he would have noticed that Mokona had opened his eyes, the jewel on its forehead was glowing, and that the compass pieces on the floor beneath him were shifting around to create a new image of a butterfly.

“There.” Doumeki said in satisfaction when he got the watch open. He blew into it, releasing dust and shimmering particles. A breeze flew in from the window. He welcomed it in this heat. With a few more tweaks, the watch hands began ticking again. He checked his cell phone and twisted the appropriate knob to get the time to match up. He snapped it shut and slid the watch into his pocket.

The piano in the front room began playing.

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A/N: Weeeeee!! Fun fun fun!!! Mokona and mentions of Watanuki!!!