Under Watch
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+S to Z › XXXholic
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
4,376
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S to Z › XXXholic
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
4,376
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own XXXholic, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Watanuki
Doumeki scrambled for the front room. The wind was blowing the curtains around, papers were finding new homes around the floor. But he kept his eyes focused on the piano. No one was sitting there. He looked to Mokona who had joined him.
“What’s going on, Mokona?”
“Watanuki!”
“April 1st? But it’s June.”
Mokona was facing the piano. Doumeki turned his attention there. And stared. Slowly, a figure materialized, seated at the piano, slender fingers and skinny legs. The clothing was old-fashioned, something his grandfather’s father might’ve worn. He rubbed his eyes and blinked. And the figure was gone.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” Mokona asked before running away.
Doumeki shot another glance at the piano before running after his housemate.
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“Where’s Yuko?” A slim young man asked, fully seated at the piano. “And what is all this… stuff?”
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“Mokona, there was something at the piano. What was it?”
But Mokona didn’t answer. Doumeki grabbed it and squeezed, shaking him firmly.
“Excuse me.” A soft voice came from the entrance to the kitchen.
Doumeki turned. The man standing there was wearing the same kind of clothes he’d seen on the whatever-it-had been that was starting to appear at the piano. But this man looked solid. “How’d you get in here?”
“I live here. With Mokona and Yuko.” The young man with stunning blue eyes looked around the kitchen with interest. “Where is Yuko?”
“Watanuki has been asleep for a long time. Yuko says it has to have been this way.” Mokona answered.
“Yes. She said that before she sealed me away.”
“Wait, what?” Doumeki interjected. “Sealed?”
“Well, I am dead.” The man answered with a slight smile. “For my protection, Yuko sealed me inside an article I carried when I was alive.”
Doumeki pulled out the watch. “This?”
The man smiled. “Yes.”
“Are you Watanuki?” Doumeki asked.
“Yes. Watanuki Kimihiro. Who are you?”
“Doumeki Shizuka. I live here now. I’m Yuko’s tenant.”
“I see.”
“Why were you sealed?”
Watanuki looked as if he might answer, but faded abruptly before he could.
“What the hell?!” Doumeki asked, looking around.
“Watanuki mustn’t speak too much of the seal.” Mokona said. “Watanuki is plagued by vengeful spirits. Yuko sealed him to protect him, but he had to agree never to speak of the spirits that hound him or the reason for the seal.”
“Isn’t the seal broken?”
“The physical, yes. Not the protection seal. But it’s getting close.”
“Why now?”
“You opened the watch. You brought Watanuki into his physical form again. Now you have to get rid of the evil spirits before the seal is broken or Watanuki will never rest in peace.”
Doumeki stared at the place the ghost had been. Then he looked at Mokona. “Why me?”
“Yuko knows. But Yuko won’t tell.” Mokona giggled. “I’m hungry. Watanuki!”
“Yes?” A disembodied voice came from roughly where the ghost had disappeared.
“Can we eat now?”
“Haven’t you eaten enough today already?! And I’m not your servant you know! Geeze! I just got out of the watch, and already people are making demands!” A cool breeze brushed past Doumeki and then paused. “I suppose you’ll be wanting something, too?”
“If it’s not too much trouble.” Doumeki looked around. “Where are you?”
“Right here.”
“I can’t see you.”
“Hm? Oh. That’s probably because you’re a disbelieving oaf whose logical mind is writing off my existence as something inexplicable.” The ghost went off on his tirade, which from the sounds of it, was moving toward the kitchen. Doumeki and Mokona followed. Mokona didn’t appear to have any trouble knowing exactly where the ghost was.
“I never said I didn’t believe you existed.” Doumeki interjected when the ghost started to mutter again about inconsiderate people who disbelieved everything that was the slightest bit out of the norm.
“Was I talking to you? No. Now if you don’t mind, LEAVE ME ALONE. It’s bad enough I have to cook with this… stuff. What is this anyway?” Dried and packaged seaweed floated in midair.
“Seaweed. You know… for sushi.”
“I know what sushi is! Honestly! But this is not seaweed… This is… How can you eat this?” Doumeki watched as a piece of the seaweed disappeared in bites.
“… You can eat?”
“Of course I can eat! You expect me to cook and then not eat what I worked hard to prepare? Selfish bastard.”
“I just thought that ghosts didn’t need to eat.”
“Well I don’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t like to. Yuko told me that I was always welcome to dine with her and Mokona, and as Yuko still owns the house and you’re just a tenant, I see no reason to stop that tradition.”
“Well?” Doumeki asked, not being able to see the ghost to gauge his facial expression.
“Well what?”
“What do you think of the seaweed?”
“Hm.” Watanuki grunted. “Someone reorganized my pantry.” The ghost complained after a few minutes.
“It’s not your pantry. It’s Yuko’s.” Doumeki said, slightly pleased with himself for getting back at the infuriating spirit.
“Get out of the kitchen before I throw something at you!” As a large pot hung suspended in the air, Doumeki didn’t doubt the ghost’s sincerity.
“Whatever.” He grumbled, leaving the ghost and Mokona to their own devices.
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He’d just gotten settled on his couch, the TV flipped on with the baseball game when Mokona bounced into the room carrying a bottle of wine, followed by a floating tray of sushi and rice balls.
“You can say thank you now.” Watanuki said. The tray settled on the coffee table, and Doumeki felt a slight pressing of weight on the couch next to him. Curious, he examined the seat beside him, observing the soft indent as if someone was really sitting there.
With a shrug he reached for the food, popping a piece of sushi into his mouth whole.
“Take smaller bites won’t you?!” The ghost yelled. Doumeki began thinking he might need to invest in earplugs if the ghost really was going to be hanging around him like this. “Honestly, I don’t know why I even bother if this is all the thanks I get. Hey! Don’t eat that one! Give. It. Back!”
Doumeki felt his hand being restrained by a cold strength. As he watched, he noticed that the ghost began to fill in again. He smirked when he could see the bared teeth of the skinny ghost just inches from his own face. With a toss, he managed to get the food into his mouth.
“Aaaah! No! You bastard! Give it back!” Watanuki latched onto Doumeki’s neck and proceeded to throttle him in hopes of getting his food back.
“You really want it?” Doumeki asked around his mouthful.
Watanuki puffed up, as if taking a huge breath to scream again. Then he released it as a gust of near-freezing air. Doumeki suppressed a shiver. “No! But don’t do it again!”
Doumeki felt victorious, if only for the time being. Then the ghost picked up his remote and changed the channel.
“Oi.”
“How you can stand to watch that boring game is beyond me. This is so much better.” Watanuki resettled the remote and stared at the TV. “Wait… What is this?”
Doumeki and Mokona both suppressed snickers at the confused look on the ghost’s face.
“Who changed the channels!?!” Watanuki rounded on Doumeki. Doumeki was quick to put up his hands.
“Cable companies sometimes redo the channel order.”
“Well… They shouldn’t! Some of us like the way things were, you know!” Watanuki sat back with a flop and a ‘hmph’, crossing his arms over his chest.
They sat that way for awhile, studying the TV screen. Somehow, they’d gotten the English channel… Without subtitles. Doumeki, fortunately, understood most of what was being said, but Watanuki looked lost. So, Doumeki told him what was going on.
“I didn’t ask you for help! What makes you think I care about this stupid TV program anyway?!” He stood up and threw the remote at Doumeki. “Go back to your stupid game, you great lug.”
“How old are you?” Doumeki asked right when Watanuki spun on his heel to leave the room in a dramatic fashion, though he could’ve pointed out to the spirit that just vanishing into thin air would be much more suited to his current situation.
“Eh? Why?” Watanuki narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Just curious. You look really young.”
Watanuki relaxed. Somewhat. “I died when I was 19, nearly 20. Or at least, that’s what I overheard people saying for so long afterward. Yuko let me see the article once, but I don’t remember what it said.”
“How?”
“How what?”
“How did you die?” Doumeki asked. When Watanuki looked hesitant, he added quickly, “If it’s got something to do with the reason you were sealed and all, don’t try to answer.”
“It’s not that. I just… really can’t… remember.” The ghost turned introspective and faded away, a troubled frown crossing his face.
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A/N: Thanks so much for you four who have reviewed so far! I take your encouragement to heart, really. ^_^
I hope you continue to stick with me as I develop this plot. I SHOULD hopefully be able to update once a week come the 18th of May, so here's hoping!
“What’s going on, Mokona?”
“Watanuki!”
“April 1st? But it’s June.”
Mokona was facing the piano. Doumeki turned his attention there. And stared. Slowly, a figure materialized, seated at the piano, slender fingers and skinny legs. The clothing was old-fashioned, something his grandfather’s father might’ve worn. He rubbed his eyes and blinked. And the figure was gone.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” Mokona asked before running away.
Doumeki shot another glance at the piano before running after his housemate.
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“Where’s Yuko?” A slim young man asked, fully seated at the piano. “And what is all this… stuff?”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Mokona, there was something at the piano. What was it?”
But Mokona didn’t answer. Doumeki grabbed it and squeezed, shaking him firmly.
“Excuse me.” A soft voice came from the entrance to the kitchen.
Doumeki turned. The man standing there was wearing the same kind of clothes he’d seen on the whatever-it-had been that was starting to appear at the piano. But this man looked solid. “How’d you get in here?”
“I live here. With Mokona and Yuko.” The young man with stunning blue eyes looked around the kitchen with interest. “Where is Yuko?”
“Watanuki has been asleep for a long time. Yuko says it has to have been this way.” Mokona answered.
“Yes. She said that before she sealed me away.”
“Wait, what?” Doumeki interjected. “Sealed?”
“Well, I am dead.” The man answered with a slight smile. “For my protection, Yuko sealed me inside an article I carried when I was alive.”
Doumeki pulled out the watch. “This?”
The man smiled. “Yes.”
“Are you Watanuki?” Doumeki asked.
“Yes. Watanuki Kimihiro. Who are you?”
“Doumeki Shizuka. I live here now. I’m Yuko’s tenant.”
“I see.”
“Why were you sealed?”
Watanuki looked as if he might answer, but faded abruptly before he could.
“What the hell?!” Doumeki asked, looking around.
“Watanuki mustn’t speak too much of the seal.” Mokona said. “Watanuki is plagued by vengeful spirits. Yuko sealed him to protect him, but he had to agree never to speak of the spirits that hound him or the reason for the seal.”
“Isn’t the seal broken?”
“The physical, yes. Not the protection seal. But it’s getting close.”
“Why now?”
“You opened the watch. You brought Watanuki into his physical form again. Now you have to get rid of the evil spirits before the seal is broken or Watanuki will never rest in peace.”
Doumeki stared at the place the ghost had been. Then he looked at Mokona. “Why me?”
“Yuko knows. But Yuko won’t tell.” Mokona giggled. “I’m hungry. Watanuki!”
“Yes?” A disembodied voice came from roughly where the ghost had disappeared.
“Can we eat now?”
“Haven’t you eaten enough today already?! And I’m not your servant you know! Geeze! I just got out of the watch, and already people are making demands!” A cool breeze brushed past Doumeki and then paused. “I suppose you’ll be wanting something, too?”
“If it’s not too much trouble.” Doumeki looked around. “Where are you?”
“Right here.”
“I can’t see you.”
“Hm? Oh. That’s probably because you’re a disbelieving oaf whose logical mind is writing off my existence as something inexplicable.” The ghost went off on his tirade, which from the sounds of it, was moving toward the kitchen. Doumeki and Mokona followed. Mokona didn’t appear to have any trouble knowing exactly where the ghost was.
“I never said I didn’t believe you existed.” Doumeki interjected when the ghost started to mutter again about inconsiderate people who disbelieved everything that was the slightest bit out of the norm.
“Was I talking to you? No. Now if you don’t mind, LEAVE ME ALONE. It’s bad enough I have to cook with this… stuff. What is this anyway?” Dried and packaged seaweed floated in midair.
“Seaweed. You know… for sushi.”
“I know what sushi is! Honestly! But this is not seaweed… This is… How can you eat this?” Doumeki watched as a piece of the seaweed disappeared in bites.
“… You can eat?”
“Of course I can eat! You expect me to cook and then not eat what I worked hard to prepare? Selfish bastard.”
“I just thought that ghosts didn’t need to eat.”
“Well I don’t. Doesn’t mean I don’t like to. Yuko told me that I was always welcome to dine with her and Mokona, and as Yuko still owns the house and you’re just a tenant, I see no reason to stop that tradition.”
“Well?” Doumeki asked, not being able to see the ghost to gauge his facial expression.
“Well what?”
“What do you think of the seaweed?”
“Hm.” Watanuki grunted. “Someone reorganized my pantry.” The ghost complained after a few minutes.
“It’s not your pantry. It’s Yuko’s.” Doumeki said, slightly pleased with himself for getting back at the infuriating spirit.
“Get out of the kitchen before I throw something at you!” As a large pot hung suspended in the air, Doumeki didn’t doubt the ghost’s sincerity.
“Whatever.” He grumbled, leaving the ghost and Mokona to their own devices.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He’d just gotten settled on his couch, the TV flipped on with the baseball game when Mokona bounced into the room carrying a bottle of wine, followed by a floating tray of sushi and rice balls.
“You can say thank you now.” Watanuki said. The tray settled on the coffee table, and Doumeki felt a slight pressing of weight on the couch next to him. Curious, he examined the seat beside him, observing the soft indent as if someone was really sitting there.
With a shrug he reached for the food, popping a piece of sushi into his mouth whole.
“Take smaller bites won’t you?!” The ghost yelled. Doumeki began thinking he might need to invest in earplugs if the ghost really was going to be hanging around him like this. “Honestly, I don’t know why I even bother if this is all the thanks I get. Hey! Don’t eat that one! Give. It. Back!”
Doumeki felt his hand being restrained by a cold strength. As he watched, he noticed that the ghost began to fill in again. He smirked when he could see the bared teeth of the skinny ghost just inches from his own face. With a toss, he managed to get the food into his mouth.
“Aaaah! No! You bastard! Give it back!” Watanuki latched onto Doumeki’s neck and proceeded to throttle him in hopes of getting his food back.
“You really want it?” Doumeki asked around his mouthful.
Watanuki puffed up, as if taking a huge breath to scream again. Then he released it as a gust of near-freezing air. Doumeki suppressed a shiver. “No! But don’t do it again!”
Doumeki felt victorious, if only for the time being. Then the ghost picked up his remote and changed the channel.
“Oi.”
“How you can stand to watch that boring game is beyond me. This is so much better.” Watanuki resettled the remote and stared at the TV. “Wait… What is this?”
Doumeki and Mokona both suppressed snickers at the confused look on the ghost’s face.
“Who changed the channels!?!” Watanuki rounded on Doumeki. Doumeki was quick to put up his hands.
“Cable companies sometimes redo the channel order.”
“Well… They shouldn’t! Some of us like the way things were, you know!” Watanuki sat back with a flop and a ‘hmph’, crossing his arms over his chest.
They sat that way for awhile, studying the TV screen. Somehow, they’d gotten the English channel… Without subtitles. Doumeki, fortunately, understood most of what was being said, but Watanuki looked lost. So, Doumeki told him what was going on.
“I didn’t ask you for help! What makes you think I care about this stupid TV program anyway?!” He stood up and threw the remote at Doumeki. “Go back to your stupid game, you great lug.”
“How old are you?” Doumeki asked right when Watanuki spun on his heel to leave the room in a dramatic fashion, though he could’ve pointed out to the spirit that just vanishing into thin air would be much more suited to his current situation.
“Eh? Why?” Watanuki narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Just curious. You look really young.”
Watanuki relaxed. Somewhat. “I died when I was 19, nearly 20. Or at least, that’s what I overheard people saying for so long afterward. Yuko let me see the article once, but I don’t remember what it said.”
“How?”
“How what?”
“How did you die?” Doumeki asked. When Watanuki looked hesitant, he added quickly, “If it’s got something to do with the reason you were sealed and all, don’t try to answer.”
“It’s not that. I just… really can’t… remember.” The ghost turned introspective and faded away, a troubled frown crossing his face.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Thanks so much for you four who have reviewed so far! I take your encouragement to heart, really. ^_^
I hope you continue to stick with me as I develop this plot. I SHOULD hopefully be able to update once a week come the 18th of May, so here's hoping!