Peaches [xxxHOLiC novella] COMPLETE

8. The Fan of Encounters

Right, then, Watanuki thought. Focus.

Back in the dark hallways, he could feel the scent of peaches grow stronger, and followed his nose, even though he understood it was not, strictly speaking, an olfactory experience. It was simply the scent that was comforting to him, a scent that conveyed safety and pleasure. Why peaches? He was not so sure himself.

In the same way, he understood now, the fan, or should he say the lady of the fan, borrowed one's memories, desires, and associative thinking. No wonder the "manager" of the inn reminded him of Yūko, thought Watanuki. Of course, the resemblance was merely superficial, partially of form, but not of the essence. He wondered if he would be able to see her for what what she really was, here, in this place which could prove a trap for either one or both of them.

Then he thought about kissing Dōmeki. Whose fantasy was it, he wondered. And did it matter? It was a 'dream for two,' and at least here and now he did not want to lie to himself. The feel of the other's hands and lips and warm skin were real, and lingered in his body. Watanuki narrowed his eyes. The body remembers, he told himself. Just like how I remember how to cook, and to do a lot of other things. I have given up much, and I don't regret it. But, he thought with a start, I don't want to give up this. He gritted his teeth.

Finally the corridor led him back to the other room, though he was sure he was walking in the darkness for much too long a time.

"It is good to see you again, master Shopkeeper," said the woman quietly. She was now sitting at the table on a low cushion, but the fruit bowl was gone, and so was the pitcher of sake. Good, he thought.

"Good evening," Watanuki inclined his head in greeting, and sat opposite her. "It was quite the trouble getting here, I hope I did not keep you waiting."

"Not at all! It was I who took my time coming. It seemed you had other business to take care of, as well."

She laughed her quiet silvery laugh, but something was off about it. Watanuki looked at her closely. Although she sat with her back to the window and her face was in shadow, he noticed half of it was grey and lifeless. He said nothing, only gave her an enigmatic smile.

"Not every day one has such an opportunity," he said, leaving the phrase hanging. She would know if he lied, of course, but in a half-truth she would hear only what she expected to hear - or so he hoped.

"I am sure you know by now who I am," said the woman, her tone still light, though there was a palpable chill in it now. She smiled a predatory little smile.

"Naturally, madam" replied Watanuki.

"In that case, I'd like to thank you for indulging me... Though I am surprised you came here at all, knowing it."

Watanuki kept smiling amicably at her. "Is that so odd? You have been asleep for a long time. Do you not wish for the dream to end?"

The woman looked at her hands, and Watanuki noticed she was holding a folding fan in her lap, an ornate lacquered fan, with a design of two dancing cranes painted onto it. One panel, predictably the second one from the edge, had a spot of lacquer chipped off. She always had it, of course. But which one of them could not remember it?

Discretely Watanuki began to chart a complicated sign with his fingers, as Haruka-san had recommended. A slight frown crossed the woman's face, but she did not seem to notice. She appeared to consider what he said.

"Some day the dream will end," she said. "But that is not what I want. I want... for it to never have happened. At all."

"Are you sure?" asked Watanuki, playing for time. "There are good memories in there, too. Even the painful ones are precious to you, are they not? The man you loved," he said, slowly, "and the man who loved you. Is this not why you are still here?"