I make absolutely no apology for my use of Japanese terms in this chapter: I find the aesthetics, traditions and spiritual values of the sado completely fascinating... The ritual I describe here is a somewhat casual version of the roji-cha (as opposed to the far more formal and complex daisu form).
The sensation of warm hands gently rubbing at a neck stiff from lying awkwardly, head resting on forearms resting on the desk where he'd fallen asleep, sometime before the dawn…
He gave a happy little half sigh, half whimper, rolling his head further forwards for the hands to reach more easily.
"Koibito…"
The contentment vanished as he awoke properly, remembered that his partner was… no longer…
He could have sworn he felt hands. But only 003 was there, bobbing its head as owls are wont to do, watching him from bright round eyes. Blinking back sudden tears, he rubbed at his face, then glanced down, forcing himself to think of practicalities. A shower and a change of clothes was in order. If he hurried, he would just have time before Tatsumi arrived…
"Watari-san? Are you with us?"
Startled, the chemist jerked upright, eyes meeting Tatsumi's stern gaze, realising he'd heard nothing of the last ten minutes' speech. He hid a blush behind a wide - fake - grin.
"M sorry, Tats'mi-san. Din' get much sleep…"
None at all, apparently… the Secretary noted the pallor, the shadows around the scientist's eyes, and frowned. If he was that tired he'd be a menace in the lab… and that would mean more expense…
Tatsumi came to a difficult decision.
"Go home, Watari-san. Rest. Get some sleep. Take the afternoon off. I'll expect you back in tomorrow, mid-morning."
Watari looked dismayed.
"But…"
"No arguments, please. You are a danger to yourself and your colleagues in that state."
"Tats'mi-san…"
But the Secretary fixed him with a baleful glare, blue eyes positively flashing, and the chemist swallowed, bowed his head, and quickly left the room, Tzusuki's "Tatsuuuumi-san, can I have the afternoon off too? I'm really tired…." drifting after him.
003 opened one eye as he re-entered the lab, hooted sleepily then went back to sleep. Watari seated himself and ruffled the little owl's feathers very gently, staring unseeingly at his computer's monitor.
A rest. Sleep? He was tired, but doubted he'd be able to sleep. He'd drifted into a daydream while Tatsumi had been speaking.
Warm brown eyes.
His partner's eyes…
No, not those. He was gone. Could never return.
Oriya's eyes, gazing out calmly from under long, deep brown hair.
Oriya…
Well, Tatsumi hadn't actually ordered him to get some sleep, had he?
Oriya re-sheathed his katana, dissatisfied. This morning's practise had not been as smooth, as polished, as he expected of himself. His disturbed night might have had something to do with it, of course, that and the odd dreams he'd had…
Sunshine. And eyes like tigerseye.
Watari had… introduced a new element into his life, an uncomfortable one. He was still trying to work out how it applied to him - and luckily business was light today, as he found himself unable to concentrate properly.
Now it was early afternoon, and he could take a break before making sure everything was ready for the night's trade.
Tea. The formality of tea-making always served to focus his mind and calm his spirit. He'd make some tea.
He was aware of Watari's presence before the shinigami spoke, and bowed his head without turning.
"Konnichi-wa, Watari-san. I was about to take tea. Would you care to join me?"
The chemist slipped off his coat, folding it neatly and placing it on the step.
"Thank yew, Oriya-san. Ay'd like to very much."
The young man - shinigami, Oriya reminded himself firmly: it was almost impossible to think of the vibrant Watari as dead - knelt on the floor of the roji, to Oriya's surprise maintaining a respectful silence while his host prepared to serve usucha. As the water heated Oriya laid a small plate of higashi before Watari, quietly, solemnly, added water to the chawan, whisked, then offered the ido to his guest.
Watching with something close to astonishment as Watari paused to gaze admiringly at the chawan, then turned the bowl so that the front faced his host, took three slow, silent sips, rotated the chawan precisely, lowered his eyes to the green liquid within, smiling appreciatively, then with a small bow handed it back to his host.
"T'is delicious, Oriya-san."
Oriya took back the ido without thinking, unconsciously comparing Watari's graceful, gracious conformity to the aesthetics of the sado with Muraki's negligently disrespectful attitude towards the ritual.
He bowed his head, warming to his unexpected guest.
"Arigato gozaimasu, Watari-san."
Watari blushed and lowered his head.
"S'nuthin…"
Oriya smiled, debating whether to tease his guest, to offer the chawan to him for admiration and enquiry - for some reason Watari seemed to be embarrassed about knowing the correct behaviour…
He sighed quietly and decided to be kind.
"Thank you for visiting, Watari-san. But I'm a little puzzled as to why you are here…"
The chemist raised his head and grimaced, somewhat discomfited.
"Uh…" He sighed and lowered his eyes again.
Oriya frowned, suddenly wanting that lambent golden gaze directed towards himself again. Watari chewed at his lip for a moment, then eyed his host candidly.
"Wanted to 'pologise. Ay wuz rewd."
Oriya blinked, his lips parting slightly. Well that was unexpected. He smiled.
"Think nothing of it, Watari-san."
The shinigami frowned.
"But Ay do think sumthin' of it, Oriya-san."
Oriya raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, smiling.
"You're forgiven, Watari-san!"
The shinigami relaxed, wincing as he eased out of his kneeling posture to sit cross-legged instead.
"Ta…"
He gazed at Oriya, eyes wide, expression… Oriya couldn't quite work out what his expression was... It made him a little uneasy. Apparently Watari was aware of the fact, and turned his head, glancing around the room.
"Nice place."
Mundane, but it worked. Oriya relaxed a little.
"It serves its purpose."
There was a mischievous gleam in the chemist's eye.
"The… rest'rant too?"
Oriya blinked. Then again, that KoKakuRou was also a high-class brothel wasn't exactly a great secret - in the right quarters, anyway.
"That… is not my choice."
"Why d'yew do it then?"
For a moment Oriya considered speaking about tradition and family and all the things he had been raised to believe… But Watari was sitting bright-eyed beside him, smiling, and suddenly he felt very weary. Tired of his life. Tired of behaving correctly, as he'd been taught. Too tired to explain.
"Watari-san, would you like some sake?"
The chemist grinned.
"'d prefer beer, if yew got any."
Beer? Of course they had beer… He rose to his feet and bowed his head.
"I'll be back in a moment."
"Kanpai!"
Watari raised his glass and took a sip of the Waoh pale ale Oriya had offered, nodding appreciatively.
"S'good!"
Oriya chuckled.
"I like it…"
The chemist stretched out long legs, leaning back on one hand, and regarded his host candidly. Long silky brown hair escaping from its tie low down on his back, today's kimono a deep, rich blue decorated with cranes, casually open to reveal bare legs and feet. He wasn't smoking, which Watari appreciated.
He looked very tired, though.
"Oriya-san - 'scuse me if Ay soun' rewd, but if yew wanna sleep, just tell me t'go, 'K?"
Oriya shook his head.
"Thank you, but I'm fine." Enjoying your company, he realised with a strange sense of… acceptance. "It's pleasant to simply sit, drink, and talk."
"Yeah…"
They finished the beer, and Oriya offered another bottle, which Watari happily accepted.
"Watari-san… what's it like? Being shinigami? If you don't mind my asking, that is…"
The chemist grinned.
"Don' min' at a'… Not sure how much Ay'm 'llowed t'tell, though… It… takes a bit o' gettin' used to." His smile faded as he lowered his eyes. "Job's gotta be dun, bu' s'no fun, not reely. 'specially when it's kids."
Oriya watched the play of emotion across the expressive face with a sort of detached fascination.
"But you don't actually kill them - do you?"
"Na… but it sumtimes feels like it. Y'know, bringin' home people who have to die…" He took a long swallow of beer, eyes shadowed.
Oriya eyed him for moment, then spoke almost without thinking.
"I tried, you know. I tried to change his mind, the way he thought."
Watari's head jerked up, to gaze into glistening brown eyes and a face taut with misery, eloquently expressive of failure.
"He listened, and let it wash over him, and later told me he'd been programmed to be the way he is."
"Programmed?"
Oriya nodded, closing his eyes, trying not to watch the images in his mind.
"He said it was in his very DNA. And I think his mother was a little mad, you know. Though whether that was because of the person his father was, I can't say. They're both dead now, and the damage has been done."
Watari gently touched his hand where it wrapped his half-empty glass.
"Yew love him, dun' yew."
Oriya's shoulders slumped as he ran a hand across his face.
"… love… faith… devotion… hate… it's complicated."
"Ay understand."
"Do you?"
"Aah. Loved once, meself. Was a bit more… reciprocal, Ay s'pose, but in the end…" Watari drained his drink and reached for another two bottles, filling Oriya's glass and his own, in the process shifting a little closer to his host. "Yew miss him."
Oriya drained his glass and sank his head into his hands.
"Yes. I miss him. Arrogant, cruel, misguided bastard that he is."
Watari slid a companionable arm across his shoulders, under the heavy fall of hair.
"Yew're allowed. No-one can help who they love…" though they still have to take responsibility for themselves and their actions, he added, mentally, but not prepared to spoil by speaking aloud the delicate balance of openness and revelation they seemed to be achieving.
"I'm sorry." There was the slightest catch in Oriya's muffled voice, and Watari's heart went out to him.
"Don' need t'apologise, Oriya-kun. Been there, dun that, know how it feels."
For long moments they sat, Oriya hunched over, weeping silently, somehow not feeling embarrassed or ridiculous, Watari's arm a comforting weight across his shoulders, the shinigami's silent support somehow lightening the grief that he'd kept buried since that night…
"Oriya-kun…?"
The voice, soft but sunfilled, filtered through his misery. He rubbed his eyes and peered up through wayward strands of hair to see Watari's delicate, compassionate face gazing at him. He forced a somewhat watery smile.
"Watari-san, I am very sorry…"
"Please - m'name's Yutaka. 'd like it if yew'd use it…"
"… Yutaka… -kun…"
The chemist smiled gently, his eyes twinkling.
"Ta… C'n Ay be a right pain? Ay think yew'd be better for a sleep, Oriya-kun. You'm knackered. C'n Ay get yew into bed?"
Oriya stared for a moment, then laughed, helplessly, through his tears. Oh yes, the shinigami knew exactly what he'd said… he swallowed, choking back chuckles, and leaned against Watari's shoulder.
"I think that's a very good idea, Wa… Yutaka-kun. If you don't mind my being such a poor host…"
Watari uttered something that could have been construed as a rude noise, then eased himself up onto his knees, pulling Oriya with him.
"C'mon. Yew need to rest."
Oriya halted, facing the shinigami, cupping his chin in one hand and frowning. Watari didn't exactly look rested himself…
"So do you. Did you sleep last night?"
The chemist ducked his head, his 'not reely' very quiet. Oriya sighed and gestured towards the main body of the building.
"My bedroom is this way…"
This felt… wonderful…
Oriya lay, nestled against Watari, his head on the shinigami's shoulder, one arm across a narrow chest, exhausted but content. Watari nuzzled his hair sleepily.
"Sure this is OK?"
"Mm."
Watari sighed and pulled Oriya a little closer, hand tangling gently in his hair.
"Good…"
Fully clothed, afternoon's sunlight wrapping them in gold as they lay on the futon, they'd simply curled together, finding a comfortable position in which to sleep. And Oriya had nearly wept again, at the gentleness, the compassion of his guest - so sweet, so caring, so very much the opposite of Muraki - as he gazed up at half-closed chatoyant gold eyes.
"Thank you."
Watari smiled as he stroked silky brown hair.
"S'nowt. Rest, Oriya-kun. 's'all yew need to do…"
And there was something infinitely restful about being in Watari's company. Oriya closed his eyes, sighing contentedly, wishing this could last…
Mini Epics Index
The Zone
Heh, for the first time in living memory, no lemon…
But Lutra likes my lemons - and I have to confess, having found this pic [points to the right] on a website I find myself inspired to write more…
This pic is claimed to be Oriya. I'm not totally convinced though. It could be him. Then again, it might not be…
But to be honest, do we really care….?
[evil grin] I don't, personally. I already have a nice little h/c with a bit of torture and nc thrown in bubbling away. Watch this space…
Update 30th March - This pic is of Touda, one of Tsuzuki's shikigami, not Oriya. Nic pic all the same!
sado - 'The way of the tea' - the tea ceremony and everything pertaining to it.
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roji - space set aside specifically for the tea-ceremony, minimally but beautifully decorated.
usucha - 'Thin tea' - powdered macha made into a liquid - as opposed to koisha - thick tea, almost a paste.
higashi - Dry sweets designed to contrast with and enhance the flavour of the tea.
chawan - Tea bowl (=cup in the west, but with far deeper significance).
ido - A style of chawan with a deep well: originally a Korean rice bowl adopted by early tea masters.
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