Sight

Watanuki Kimihiro's life would be infinitely easier if he couldn't see.

Doumeki Shizuka's life would be infinitely easier if he could.

He doesn't know what's worse, seeing a world that isn't quite real to others, or having that world see him.

He doesn't know what's worse, having to move through planes of existence he can never hope to understand, or that helpless feeling he gets when the one person he wants most to understand seems such an integral part of it.

There are nights when he huddles in his room under blankets and wards, waiting for dawn and the spirits prowling around his house to disappear.

Every time he draws his bow, he wonders whether he will miss, whether this time it will not be enough, whether this time he will lose everything.

Watanuki Kimihiro's life would be infinitely easier if he could see.

Doumeki Shizuka's life would be infinitely easier if he couldn't.

If he could only see how much he means to the people around him. If only he could see the light within him that all creatures, whether of the light or the dark, are drawn to. If only he could understand that his life is not a thing to be thrown away as if it were worthless, because it is not.

If only he had never noticed the thin, pale boy in his class who seemed so much more alive, so much more real than anyone he'd ever seen in his life. If only he hadn't been fascinated by him, been drawn to him and come alive in his presence. If only he had walked away, that first day – everything would have been different, grayscale, easier.

There are truths he cannot perceive around him; he can't even see that everything he's ever desired is his for the taking, if only he'll open his eyes and reach out for it.

There are nights when he sees flashes of the other eye crying, sting of tears he isn't shedding, and has to force himself not to interfere.

They are opposites, balanced between sight and sightlessness; one's spirit is blinkered, the other's heart is locked away. It is why they come together, compelled despite themselves, seeking to balance their vision, their blindness.

Watanuki Kimihiro's life would be infinitely easier if he couldn't see, but with Doumeki, his vision is altered – not enough for things he does not wish to see to be erased, but enough that some measure of relief can bleed through as well.

Doumeki Shizuka's life would be infinitely easier if he could see, but Doumeki trusts Watanuki to be his eyes for him, and he hopes that will be enough, because otherwise nothing else will.

And perhaps their shared sight – a little bit of Doumeki and a little bit of Watanuki – will be enough to find that elusive balance.