XXXHolic Fan Fiction ❯ Kitsune Bi - An xXxHolic Fan-Fiction ❯ Ten ( Chapter 10 )

Kitsune Bi - An xXxHolic Fan-Fiction
By Ookami Kasumi

All characters property of CLAMP
Warning: Mature (NC-17) - Yaoi content, adult language, mild violence

Chapter Ten

“Doumeki, are you sure this necessary?” Stark naked under the hot spray in the small glassed in shower stall with only a tiny white washcloth to cover…himself, Watanuki Kimihiro turned to look over his shoulder and glared at his greatest nemesis. “I really don't think you need to be in the room with me while I bathe.”

Doumeki didn't shift from where he leaned against the open shower door. He had changed from his school clothes into a knee-length white cotton robe. He didn't seem to be wearing much else. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw tight. His gaze didn't waver from Kimihiro's body. A small bead of sweat rolled down his brow.

Kimihiro ground his teeth. What, is he asleep on his feet or something? “Must you stare at me?”

Doumeki blinked. “Hm?” He looked up at Kimihiro's face. “You have to be clean and purified before I can put up the proper barriers.”

“Fine!” Kimihiro turned the knob, shutting off the water. “I'm clean! Now can I get dressed?”

Doumeki knelt down to grab a wide wooden bucket full of water. “Lose the facecloth.” He straightened, lifting the full bucket to his shoulder.

Kimihiro clutched the facecloth tighter to his…privates. He was well aware that Doumeki already knew his secret shame, but that didn't make him any more comfortable about it. He eyed the bucket with grave misgivings. “That's cold water, isn't it?”

“It's to purify you.” Doumeki reached out with his long arms and snatched the small square of cloth from Kimihiro's hands.

“Hey!” Kimihiro dropped one hand to cover himself, and reached out with the other hand to grab for the cloth.

Doumeki hefted the bucket, tossing the water and dousing Kimihiro from head to toe. “Yes, it's cold.”

Kimihiro's body went almost instantly numb and goose-bumps erupted on every inch of him. He gasped in shock. “O-oh, sh-shit!” The water wasn't cold. It was freezing. He shivered violently and whirled, grabbing for the shower knob to turn on the hot water.

“Don't!” Doumeki lunged into the shower stall and grabbed Kimihiro's wrist. “That will ruin the properties of the well water.”

“W-well water?” Kimihiro tugged at his wrist. “No wonder its f-freezing, d-damn you!” Purification my ass! Doumeki was clearly a sadist.

Doumeki pulled on Kimihiro wrist, tugging him from the shower stall. “It was that, or rubbing you down with sea salt.”

Kimihiro stiffened. Salt…? That did not sound even remotely…comfortable. He'd gotten sand in extremely inconvenient places before. He didn't want to even consider what it would feel like to be rubbed in what amounted to sharp-edged gravel. Okay, so maybe Doumeki wasn't a total sadist. “Uh, I'll take the water.”

Doumeki grabbed the towel hanging on the railing by the door. “Thought you might. The salt kind'a stings.” He shoved the towel into Kimihiro's hands. “Here.”

“It stings?” Frowning, Kimihiro turned his back to Doumeki, unfolded the towel, and wrapped it around himself. “How would you…?”

Doumeki snorted and smiled sourly. “Putting me in girls' clothes wasn't the only stunt my grandfather pulled to `strengthen my character'.” He stepped out of the small bathroom.

Kimihiro started scrubbing the towel over his body vigorously. Haruka-san, had rubbed Doumeki down with salt? He shook his head and mumbled under his breath. “I find that kind'a hard to believe that Haruka-san would do something like that.”

“I'm not surprised.” Doumeki's voice was soft, low, and right behind him.

Kimihiro gasped and whirled around raising the towel between them. “Would you please stop sneaking up on me like that?”

“Hm?” Doumeki's brows lifted and his eyes widened slightly, in a far too obviously innocent fashion. He held out a deep red bundle that appeared to be made of heavy silk. “Put this on.”

Kimihiro grabbed the bundle. “I don't know who you think you're fooling, but that innocent act doesn't work on me.”

Doumeki rolled his eyes and heaved a small sigh. “Whatever…” He pointed at the cloth in Kimihiro's hand. “Get dressed.”

Kimihiro blew out a breath. “Fine.” The bundle unfolded into a long robe with wide sleeves. The whole thing was embroidered with tumbling sakura blossoms of the palest pink. It was very pretty. Too pretty. He had the strongest suspicion that Doumeki had just handed him a girl's under-robe, something normally worn as the bottom layer under a maiden's formal kimono as a statement of her virginity. He clenched his jaw. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Doumeki blinked. “It was the only thing I could find small enough for you to wear.”

Kimihiro bared his teeth. “You are only one centimeter taller! One…!”

Doumeki's brows lowered and his jaw tightened. “And about ten centimeter's wider.”

Kimihiro flinched. He didn't have an argument for such an obvious truth, but he absolutely did not want to wear anything so blatantly feminine. He took a deep breath and grabbed hold of his temper. “No thank you.” He pushed it back toward Doumeki. “I have clothes.”

Doumeki shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. “That's been purified. You can't wear your clothes until I've cleaned them.”

Kimihiro stiffened, clutching the red robe. “None of them? Not even my underwear?” This had to be a joke.

Doumeki's features smoothed out to complete non-expression. “Just put on the robe.” He tilted his head and lifted a brow. “Unless you'd rather be nude?”

“What? No!” Kimihiro threw the towel at him. “Get out you pervert!”

Doumeki sauntered out of the small bathroom, and something sounding suspiciously like a chuckle followed in his wake.

Kimihiro shrugged into the long red robe. Over-grown, sanctimonious, perverted, sadistic, ass…! The robe's side ties were a little high and the obi sash was wider than an ordinary man's obi, proving once and for all that it was indeed a girl's robe. “You son of…!”

In a towering rage, Kimihiro slammed out of the bathroom. He stomped down the center aisle between the rows of bookshelves, his heels thumping on the hardwood floor. The Doumeki family sacred library wasn't a large building by any means, but it was crammed from floor to rafters and heavily shadowed. The gabled windows were all closed and barred. Towering bookshelves and scroll nooks covered every available inch of wall space all the way up to the pitched ceiling. Small, glass-enclosed oil lamps set in strategic corners were the only source of light. “Doumeki, you bastard, where the hell are you?”

Doumeki stood up in the very middle of the library by the bright red center support post, and turned around with a scowl. “What is it now?”

Kimihiro angled his way through the maze of bookshelves until he was face to face with the big brute. “This!” He tugged at the embroidered sleeve of his robe. “This is a girl's robe!”

Doumeki rolled his eyes. “So?” He motioned Kimihiro to step to the side.

Kimihiro absently moved to his left and threw out his arms. “Are you trying to humiliate me?”

Doumeki's brows lowered and the corner of his mouth turned downward. “I'm trying to do a ceremony.” He stepped in close, the heat of his body washing across Kimihiro.

A shiver rippled down Kimihiro's spine and heat flared low in his belly. He sucked in a breath and stepped back. His butt bumped the support pole.

Doumeki nodded. “Good stay right there.” He turned around and picked up a thick square cushion upholstered in unbleached cotton. “You can sit on this, but keep your back against the pole.”

Kimihiro took the pillow. “Is there a reason for this?”

Doumeki turned away from Kimihiro and sat down by a coil of rope and a small pile of long narrow yellow papers that appeared to be sutras. “Yeah, the floor's hardwood.”

Kimihiro rolled his eyes. “Not the pillow, you moron, I meant a reason why I have to sit here, by the post?”

“I'm keying the wards on the library to include you too.” He picked up a paper and attached the top edge to the rope.

“Oh…” Kimihiro frowned slightly. I suppose that answers my question. He shook his head and chalked it up to Doumeki being Doumeki. Whatever… He turned to eye the post behind him. It was frikkin huge, much wider than most telephone poles. Considering that it probably supported the weight of the entire roof, it made sense. It was also bright red, though the paint was blotchy in places.

He frowned. No, wait a minute… The paint wasn't blotchy, something seemed to be written on the pole in large, but faded and blurry characters. He frowned. He had no idea what the characters meant. They didn't match up with any kanji he knew. Were they some form of Chinese? His gaze traveled upwards to where it connected with the beams that supported the ceiling. There were more characters scattered across all of the support beams in no apparent order. He looked back at Doumeki. “Can you read these characters?”

Doumeki turned sharply around, his brows up and his eyes slightly wider than normal. “What characters?”

Kimihiro jabbed a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the pole behind him. “The ones all over this and the ceiling beams. They're kind of faded though.”

Doumeki frowned at the pole, then raised one hand and covered his left eye. His uncovered right eye widened and his lips parted. “Oh…” His gaze traveled upward to the ceiling beams. “Okay, I see…”

Kimihiro's brows lifted. “You have to use…?”

“Yeah…” His gaze focused upward, Doumeki turned all the way around. “I can only see it with our shared eye.”

Kimihiro blinked. If Doumeki had to use their shared eye to see the characters, then the characters were spiritual, not physical. Kimihiro turned back to look at the pole. Were the characters…magic? He looked over his shoulder at Doumeki. “Can you read them?”

“Yeah.” The edge of Doumeki's mouth lifted in a slight smile and he nodded. “This makes everything a lot easier.” He looked over at Kimihiro, and pointed at the cushion by the pole. “Sit, stay. I'll be right back.” He turned and strode away.

Kimihiro ground his teeth. “Sit? Stay? What am I, a dog?” Arrogant, over-grown, pushy, pain in my ass… He took in a deep breath, gathered the long folds of the scarlet robe close around him, and knelt down on the pillow. Unfortunately, his back didn't touch the pole. He tried leaning back, but that was not only awkward, but too much of his body weight rested uncomfortably on his feet. He tried scooting further back, but that put his feet to either side of the pole, spreading them uncomfortably wide and forcing him to sit on his butt splay-footed rather like a child. He could sit with his feet tucked to the side, but that was a very, very feminine way to sit. No way in hell was he going to sit that way.

The solution of course, was to sit cross-legged. Unfortunately, the robe was very narrow. It was not designed for anything other than kneeling or chair sitting. Sitting cross-legged would expose not only his legs, but quite possibly the fact that he wasn't wearing any underwear too. “Stupid robe!” Annoyed, Kimihiro rose to his feet.

Doumeki stepped from between a pair of bookshelves carrying a decoratively carved wooden box. He looked over at Kimihiro, and his brows lifted. “Is there a problem?”

Kimihiro crossed his arms and aimed a death-glare at the pillow. “I'm just trying to find a proper way to sit in this really narrow robe.”

Doumeki rolled his eyes. “Hike the robe up, sit cross-legged, and tuck it around you.”

Kimihiro shot him a sour glare. “That will bare my legs.” And possibly…other things.

“So what?” Doumeki crouched to set the wooden trunk on the floor by the coiled rope and pile of sutras. “No one's going to see you but me, and I've already seen you naked.”

Kimihiro swiped a hand down his face. Doumeki had a point. “Fine, whatever…” He bunched up the bottom of the robe baring his long pale legs to the thighs. With just a small amount of fuss, he sat down on the cushion, folded his legs, and tucked the robe's length into his lap.

Doumeki blinked wide-eyed, then turned to the carved box and lifted off the lid. “Can I ask you something?” He peered into the box.

Kimihiro blinked. “Uh, sure. What?”

Doumeki reached into the box and rummaged. “Why did you make such a big fuss over wearing a girl's robe when you shave like one?”

“What?” Kimihiro's mouth fell open. Shave like a girl…? “I do not…!”

“You do.” Doumeki pulled out two small loops of pale green beads with red tassels from the wooden box. “Only girls shave their legs, their under-arms, and their…” His cheeks pinked. “Their pubic hair.” He turned to Kimihiro frowning. “You did know that right?”

“Of course I know that! I'm not a complete idiot!” Kimihiro's mouth closed with a click of his teeth and looked away. His face warmed. Apparently, the bastard had noticed his lack of…hair, and assumed he'd done it deliberately. He took in a deep breath and crossed his arms. “I didn't shave it”

Doumeki turned to face Kimihiro with wide eyes. “You didn't?”

Kimihiro turned away, his face burning. “It's…natural.” There was a loud thump. He turned to look.

Doumeki sat on the floor, his legs sprawled, his eyes wide.

Kimihiro frowned at him. “Doumeki?”

Doumeki stared at Kimihiro. “You're naturally hairless…?”

Kimihiro rolled his eyes. “I have hair, just not…” He shrugged. “That kind.”

Doumeki's eyes narrowed and his lips curved up into smirk that looked positively hungry.

Kimihiro barely held back his shiver. “Are you thinking perverted thoughts again?”

Doumeki rose to his feet. “And if I was?”

Kimihiro stiffened. He couldn't quite decide if he was furious, or flattered which of course annoyed him. “Doumeki, are you trying to piss me off?”

Doumeki rolled his eyes. “Idiot.” He walked over to Kimihiro, holding out the two small loops of beads with red tassels. “Put these on your wrists.”

“Eh…?” Completely distracted from continuing his tirade, Kimihiro took the loops and peered at the smooth green beads that were as thick as his thumb. “Are these prayer beads?”

Doumeki nodded. “They're to connect you to the library.” He walked back to his pile of papers and picked up the rope and all the sutras.

Kimihiro slipped the loops onto his wrists. “What's next?”

“I do the chant I found in one of my grandfather's books.” Doumeki walked off with the looped rope, disappearing among the shadows.

Kimihiro squinted after him. “That's it?”

Doumeki returned empty-handed and sat down on the cushion. “Yes.” He pulled an oversized scroll onto his lap and started unrolling it.

Kimihiro nodded firmly. “Good. Let's get this over with.”

 

Twenty minutes later…

Only three feet away directly in front of Kimihiro, Doumeki was seated cross-legged with his eyes closed and his hands resting palm up on his splayed knees. His deep voice droned on, and on, and on, in a language that sounded like an extremely complicated form of Chinese.

Kimihiro shifted against the pole, trying to stay upright and in contact with the pole How long is this damned chant anyway? Despite the thickness of the pillow, his butt-cheeks were seriously starting to ache. His shoulders weren't doing much better, and he definitely had a crick in his neck. However, the light electrical tingling around his heart had gotten really, really annoying. It felt like tiny insane butterflies were trapped inside it, and damn it, it itched. He rubbed his chest, not that it did any good. The feeling was inside his chest.

Doumeki's voice dropped in tone to a deep resonating bass and held.

The small hairs rose on the back of Kimihiro's neck, then a shiver spilled down his back. Goosebumps erupted all down his body. He rubbed his arms, trying to settle the hair that had risen.

Without pause, Doumeki's voice dropped to an even lower pitch, and held.

Kimihiro blinked. How is he doing that? Doesn't he have to breathe? He focused his gaze on the other boy's chest in sheer curiosity.

Doumeki's chest rose and fell though very slowly.

Kimihiro's brows lifted. He is breathing. He shook his head slightly. Sometimes Doumeki thoroughly amazed him. Not that he'd ever tell him that. Doumeki's ego was already far too insufferable as it was.

The small hairs on Kimihiro's arms finally settled, but the low vibration seemed to be resonating deeper, and lower. His heart began to pound and warmth suffused through his body. A light sweat broke out all over him. Kimihiro fanned his hand at his face. Damn it's getting warm in here. He began to pant for breath. His sight slid slightly out of focus.

Off on the left, something moved by the book case.

Kimihiro turned to face it, squinting. It looked like a person only they seemed to be wavering, as though they were under water. He focused harder and the figure became a bit more solid. It vaguely looked like Doumeki, only in long green robes. Kimihiro frowned. “Haruka-san?”

The figure waved and appeared to be shouting.

Kimihiro shook his head. “I can't hear you.”

Haruka-san lifted his hands and took a step stepped closer, clearly pushing at something. He continued to shout, but the voice that reached Kimihiro was barely more a whisper. “St…! St-stop…Shizuka! Stop the ritual!”

Stop the ritual? Ice water spilled into Kimihiro's veins. He turned to face Doumeki.

Eyes closed, Doumeki reached down to the scroll and lifted a small blade.

Kimihiro blinked. A knife? Was Doumeki planning to cut himself?

On his left, Haruka waved frantically, still shouting, though his voice was heavily muffled. “Stop him! Stop him!”

Kimihiro leaned forward to rise to his feet and shouted. “Doumeki, stop!” He was jerked to a halt, the base of his spine refusing to leave the post, as though a rope was tied around his hips. He looked down and saw something transparent and rope-like wrapped around him, tying him to the post. He gasped in shock and grabbed for it, but his fingers went right through it. He couldn't touch it. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He looked over at the archer. “Doumeki, you've got to stop! Haruka-san wants you to stop!”

Doumeki continued the low deep tone with his eyes still closed as though he hadn't heard him. He lifted his arms wide, then slowly brought the upright blade toward his palm.

“Doumeki!” He pushed on the floor with his palms, then turned and shoved at the post with one hand, trying to separate himself. “Doumeki, stop! You've got to stop!”

Doumeki brought his hands together, his eyes opening. His voice stilled. Heavy silence filled the air. He pressed the tip of the blade to his thumb.

Kimihiro waved and shouted. “Doumeki, stop!”

Doumeki flinched slightly and frowned at Kimihiro.

Kimihiro sighed in relief. “I don't know what you're doing, but Haruka-san doesn't want you to do it.”

Doumeki's eyes widened. “My grandfather?”

Kimihiro nodded, then noticed a thin line of scarlet sliding from Doumeki's thumb to his wrist. He pointed. “You're bleeding.”

Doumeki turned to look at his hand. He jerked his hand away from the unrolled scroll across his lap. A few drops of blood fell free. As though in slow motion the scarlet droplets arc through the air, and landed on the edge of the paper book.

Off to the left, Haruka-san winced and spoke, his voice soft but clear. “Shit.”

A hard wave of pressure slammed into Kimihiro's chest, slamming him back into the pole behind him, and forcing the wind from his lungs. Abruptly, whatever was holding him to the pole, left. He fell forward, barely throwing his hands before him in time to save his face from the hardwood floor. He gasped the air back into his lungs and pushed back up onto his cushion, panting. The air seemed thicker than before. It was hard to get a full breath. On top of that, his back felt bruised where it had hit the pole. He winced rubbed a fist against his back. “Ow…”

The air between Kimihiro and Doumeki thickened and rippled into an oval sheet about as tall as Doumeki and about two arm's length across. A shadow formed at the very center that was tall, upright, and human shaped.

Kimihiro stared at the shadow with deep misgivings. It didn't feel...bad, but it was definitely other-worldly, and really, really strong. He spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “Doumeki, what the hell did you just do?”

Still seated cross-legged on his cushion, Doumeki stared wide-eyed at the figure forming in the rippling air. “I invoked the library's guardian.”

Deep, masculine chuckles spilled from the oval of air. “What you invoked was your grandfather's patron.” The figure stepped from the circle of wavering air and into the heart of the library. He was dressed in layered robes of azure, sapphire, silver, and black tied closed with a midnight blue obi sash. The long black outer robe was painted with swirls of violet clouds and twinkled with glittering bead stars. Tall black ears unfolded from under his knee-length black hair and three long black foxtails tipped in white spilled from under his robe. “Which just happens to be me.”

Doumeki jerked back from his cushion, falling back onto his elbows, his eyes wide.

Kimihiro felt his stomach drop to his feet. Directly in front of him, only an arm's reach away, stood General Osusuki.

Osusuki nodded toward Doumeki. “Greetings, Doumeki Shizuka. I knew your grandfather Doumeki Haruka very well.”

Doumeki looked up at the fox, frowning. “He made you his guardian?”

Osusuki snorted. “You should listen when others speak. I was Doumeki Haruka's patron. I didn't serve him; he served me in trade for my protection.”

Kimihiro winced for Doumeki's sake. Oh crap…

“And since you were so kind as to voluntarily sign your grandfather's contract with your blood…” Osusuki waved a clawed hand at the scroll still spread across Doumeki's lap. “This Osusuki Genko, Senbii no kitsune, lord of the Eastern Watchtower and general of Kami no Inari's armies, accepts you, Doumeki Shizuka into his service.”

Doumeki lunged up onto his feet. “Now wait just a minute, I did not…!”

The fox lifted a clawed hand, presenting his palm. Transparent ribbons unravel from his fingertips to wrap around Doumeki's throat and body.

Doumeki voice cut off in mid-sentence. His eyes opened wide and he grabbed for his throat.

The fox fisted his hand and lowered it toward the floor. The ribbons around Doumeki tightened and pulled downward.

Doumeki stiffened, his entire body vibrating with tension. Slowly, he collapsed onto his knees.

Osusuki shook his head slowly. “That you didn't know what the contract entailed matters not.” He shrugged. “You signed the contract, Doumeki-kun. You put yourself into my service.” He waved his index finger. The ribbons around Doumeki throat loosened.

Doumeki scowled ferociously up at the fox. “For how long?” He coughed. “Kitsune-sama.”

The fox shrugged. “Until I free you.”

Doumeki ground his teeth. “You mean, until I die?”

Osusuki shook his head and chuckled. “I'm afraid that death is no escape from me.” He leaned down to speak softly. “I am a spirit and in service to a Goddess, you know.”

Doumeki turned away, his shoulders slumping.

The general straightened and waved his hand. The ribbons around Doumeki dissipated into fine mist. “You should look at the bright side, Doumeki-kun…!” He turned to face the wavering sheet of air and smiled at Watanuki, flashing his fangs.

Doumeki looked over at Watanuki, eyes wide.

Osusuki glanced over his shoulder at Doumeki. “When I come to take Watanuki-kun, you'll be coming too.” He stepped into the oval sheet of air, and it collapsed around him.

The pressure around Watanuki's chest released. He slumped against the pole and sucked in a deep breath.

Doumeki scraped his fingers through his short hair, scowling. “Shit…”

Watanuki released a weak chuckle. “That's what Haruka-san said.”

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