Broken Dolls (xxxHolic, Doumeki/Watanuki)

When Watanuki closes his eyes he sees a pool of red and a child’s still eyes. He tries not to close his eyes, but it’s three in the morning and he’s exhausted. They’re walking, each step bringing him closer to his apartment and blessed oblivion, but movement alone isn’t enough to keep his eyes from slipping shut every few minutes. It’d been raining since earlier that afternoon, and they’re the only people on the street – most, the sane ones, the ones that don’t work for Yuuko, are tucked away inside their homes, safe and dry.

Water soaked through his clothing, drenching him to the skin. The patter of water on the sidewalks reminds him of the ghost child’s crying. It’d been raining when he first met her, just a few days ago. He’d thought she’d been just another ghost, just another dead child trying to find her parents. He should have realized it was something different when Yuuko took interest.

His eyelids droop and he stumbles. There were red droplets on the flowers outside her room, a broken doll clutched in her hands. He remembers the frills on her white dress, delicate lace stained red around her chest. The police had questioned them, though not for long, only until the detective – Yuuko’s most recent client – had found them and sent them home. Watanuki still doesn’t fully understand why it turned out that way.

One ghost, two dead girls. They were sisters. Both still children, under the age of seven. He’d just stood there, watching the ghost watch her sister die. Yuuko had warned him, but in the end it was… hitsuzen.

That didn’t make Watanuki feel any better.