[He'll reach other, grasping his hand, which is less mortifying than the entire conversation leading up to this point as he breathes out, trying to clear his head]
[No, but their previous conversation didn't help things. And neither will this dream, either.]
---
It's mid-spring, with the sakura blossoms falling off the trees and leaving a mess for everyone to rake up. The chill is gone from the air during the warmest parts of the days, but mornings like these still require coats. Shoes are still off, however, as this is an old Japanese, style home, one with a large porch that overlooks a small backyard.
On the ground is a small tray with a kettle and all the things needed for making tea. Two men are also there, one on either side of the tray. Each is dressed in old-style Japanese clothes, and is holding a cup of green tea. One is instantly recognizable as Watanuki, wearing one of his many ill-fitting Kimonos. The other, however, is a much, much older gentleman, one who is easily in his 80s.
For a long time, they sip their tea, neither saying anything. But it is Watanuki who speaks up first.
"84, huh?"
The other man makes a noise of agreement, but says nothing. The silence stretches on for a while before Watanuki speaks once more.
"84 is a long time. Certainly a good, long life."
The other man makes another noise of agreement. Watanuki sighs in response to that lack of a response, but still doesn't look at the man. He's looking out at the Sakura tree instead.
"...it's going to be a boy, you know. Your great-grandson. I saw it in my dreams."
"Sayaka."
"A good name, if a bit too similar to yours. They should have just named him after you if they wanted to do that."
"Mmm."
Once again, the silence falls between them. After some time, though, Watanuki draws in another breath, one that sounds suspiciously like an attempt to suppress tears.
"I loved you, you know."
"I know."
"It never would have...you had the shrine to take care of. You needed a family for that. Children, to carry on your bloodline. And I know you loved her. But...I did love you. Even when you got too old to visit anymore, or too old to write letters."
"...I know."
"Then why are you here now?"
Watanuki looks up, and he sees not the old man from before, but a young man, one close in age to Watanuki himself. He has a somber look on his face, though it looks like he might usually have that look about him.
"...Idiot. You know why."
And then Watanuki laughs, he laughs so hard he has to turn and look away as he covers his mouth out of politeness.
"Right, right! I do know why. I don't know what I was thinking. You would never go anywhere without hearing THAT, since you worry too much."
But the laughter dies down, and Watanuki's face sets into a sad smile.
"I'll be alright. I can take care of myself. And with your children and grandchildren here, and soon great-grandchildren, I won't be alone."
And finally, he turns to look back at the figure, only to find that the person is gone entirely, leaving behind the mug of tea where he had been sitting.
[Holmes' memory drifted in, seeming to roll like late evening fog, filling in spaces in a dream.
a late night on a fog-filled streets - two men, one tall and thin - clearly Holmes though he looked to be a man in his late thirties than the twentysomething laying next to Watanuki, and the other man was of average height and broad shouldered, slightly older than him. They were the only souls around, save for a horse-drawn police wagon that could be seen turning down another street. It was clear by the way they walked and the shortness of breath that they had recently engaged in some kind of extraneous activity recently, in the distance, a stately house was light up in all the windows.
Soon Holmes broke into laughter, resting on his cane, while the other man shook his head with exasperation. "Really Holmes! Only you could waltz right into a gala and upend the entire banquet table!"
"Well Watson - I did find the missing rubies, didn't I?" Sherlock smiles cheekily, "I believe that would cover the cleaning bill we might might be expected to pay for."
"You are an impossible man sometimes," but the corner of Watson's lips tugged as the two walked closer, almost leaning together. "We should be careful not to disturb Mrs. Hudson coming back in. But do tell me, how did you know that it was Madame Blackwell that took the rubies in the first place?"
The Detective naturally elucidated on his skills, as the doctor followed along, walking close enough their arms touched, and for a moment the pair stopped, hands starting to touch, fingers twining - the air seeming to go still before they catch themselves. With a quiet noise from Watson, they quickly hurried onto Baker street, where within the steps of their familiar home, the stiff tension that crept over them from their touch several blocks away had faded.
A brief smile was exchanged as Watson unlocked the door - before it turned into shock as a roof tile suddenly crashes onto the ground, barely missing Sherlock by inches. The pair quickly disappeared into the door, Watson holding onto the taller man and fussing over him, while the detective seems far more shaken than even one would expect from having such a close call.
Slowly, naturally, his eyes opened, as the lingering melancholy, of a loved one passing over shifts into his waking consciousness]
[When the dreams have played out, Watanuki awakens, and he is aware of the fact that some time has passed. It's probably evening by then, with the afternoon having been slept away. All in all, not a terrible loss of time, given how long he can be out for sometimes.
He doesn't move much yet, and instead glances over at Ruler. Ah, so he's awake too. Well then.]
[He won't get an answer now, but the fact that the mana seems to be flowing more freely from him, like he's suddenly got a random supply of it might be a good hint.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Speaking of which, this is the perfect time for ~dreamsharing~. Ruler first, or the noodle?]
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---
It's mid-spring, with the sakura blossoms falling off the trees and leaving a mess for everyone to rake up. The chill is gone from the air during the warmest parts of the days, but mornings like these still require coats. Shoes are still off, however, as this is an old Japanese, style home, one with a large porch that overlooks a small backyard.
On the ground is a small tray with a kettle and all the things needed for making tea. Two men are also there, one on either side of the tray. Each is dressed in old-style Japanese clothes, and is holding a cup of green tea. One is instantly recognizable as Watanuki, wearing one of his many ill-fitting Kimonos. The other, however, is a much, much older gentleman, one who is easily in his 80s.
For a long time, they sip their tea, neither saying anything. But it is Watanuki who speaks up first.
"84, huh?"
The other man makes a noise of agreement, but says nothing. The silence stretches on for a while before Watanuki speaks once more.
"84 is a long time. Certainly a good, long life."
The other man makes another noise of agreement. Watanuki sighs in response to that lack of a response, but still doesn't look at the man. He's looking out at the Sakura tree instead.
"...it's going to be a boy, you know. Your great-grandson. I saw it in my dreams."
"Sayaka."
"A good name, if a bit too similar to yours. They should have just named him after you if they wanted to do that."
"Mmm."
Once again, the silence falls between them. After some time, though, Watanuki draws in another breath, one that sounds suspiciously like an attempt to suppress tears.
"I loved you, you know."
"I know."
"It never would have...you had the shrine to take care of. You needed a family for that. Children, to carry on your bloodline. And I know you loved her. But...I did love you. Even when you got too old to visit anymore, or too old to write letters."
"...I know."
"Then why are you here now?"
Watanuki looks up, and he sees not the old man from before, but a young man, one close in age to Watanuki himself. He has a somber look on his face, though it looks like he might usually have that look about him.
"...Idiot. You know why."
And then Watanuki laughs, he laughs so hard he has to turn and look away as he covers his mouth out of politeness.
"Right, right! I do know why. I don't know what I was thinking. You would never go anywhere without hearing THAT, since you worry too much."
But the laughter dies down, and Watanuki's face sets into a sad smile.
"I'll be alright. I can take care of myself. And with your children and grandchildren here, and soon great-grandchildren, I won't be alone."
And finally, he turns to look back at the figure, only to find that the person is gone entirely, leaving behind the mug of tea where he had been sitting.
"...safe travels, Shizuka. Until we meet again."
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a late night on a fog-filled streets - two men, one tall and thin - clearly Holmes though he looked to be a man in his late thirties than the twentysomething laying next to Watanuki, and the other man was of average height and broad shouldered, slightly older than him. They were the only souls around, save for a horse-drawn police wagon that could be seen turning down another street. It was clear by the way they walked and the shortness of breath that they had recently engaged in some kind of extraneous activity recently, in the distance, a stately house was light up in all the windows.
Soon Holmes broke into laughter, resting on his cane, while the other man shook his head with exasperation. "Really Holmes! Only you could waltz right into a gala and upend the entire banquet table!"
"Well Watson - I did find the missing rubies, didn't I?" Sherlock smiles cheekily, "I believe that would cover the cleaning bill we might might be expected to pay for."
"You are an impossible man sometimes," but the corner of Watson's lips tugged as the two walked closer, almost leaning together. "We should be careful not to disturb Mrs. Hudson coming back in. But do tell me, how did you know that it was Madame Blackwell that took the rubies in the first place?"
The Detective naturally elucidated on his skills, as the doctor followed along, walking close enough their arms touched, and for a moment the pair stopped, hands starting to touch, fingers twining - the air seeming to go still before they catch themselves. With a quiet noise from Watson, they quickly hurried onto Baker street, where within the steps of their familiar home, the stiff tension that crept over them from their touch several blocks away had faded.
A brief smile was exchanged as Watson unlocked the door - before it turned into shock as a roof tile suddenly crashes onto the ground, barely missing Sherlock by inches. The pair quickly disappeared into the door, Watson holding onto the taller man and fussing over him, while the detective seems far more shaken than even one would expect from having such a close call.
Slowly, naturally, his eyes opened, as the lingering melancholy, of a loved one passing over shifts into his waking consciousness]
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He doesn't move much yet, and instead glances over at Ruler. Ah, so he's awake too. Well then.]
Ruler-san, was that...?
[It has to have been Ruler's memory, right?]
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[His voice was contemplative, his free hand brushing against his face]
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[He's used to those, they're nothing new. Though if he knew who it was...]
The one I saw was of you and a...friend? After solving a case. Except there was a heavy air, and misfortune almost befell you.
[He's happy to hear that Ruler is feeling better, though, so he will carefully let go of Ruler's hand.]
Do you think you will need more later? I can return after eating, and sleep through the whole night.
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That would be Watson... it might've been one of the attempts on my life by Moriarty...
I am not a hundred percent myself... it might be good to be on the safe side.
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That's...I'm sorry, but I need to go check on something real quick.
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[He asked quietly, though he sense he won't get an answer immediately]
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[He won't get an answer now, but the fact that the mana seems to be flowing more freely from him, like he's suddenly got a random supply of it might be a good hint.]
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