"Watanuki," Yuuko called from her reclining position on the chaise lounge, gesturing so that the sleeve of her dark, elaborate kimono slid partway up her arm.

Watanuki paused only briefly, vaguely irritated at being disrupted when he'd just started to get somewhere with the stain on the door frame. "Yes?"

"Aren't you going to make special food tonight?" Yuuko asked, her tone as relaxed as her posture.

"My food," Watanuki informed her, "is always special. And what are you talking about? It isn't even close to the New Year yet, and you have to wait for special food, Yuuko-san, or it isn't special."

"Not special, not special!" Maru and Moro chorused sleepily from the heap of blankets at Yuuko's feet.

Watanuki went back to work on the stubborn stain, of which Maru and Moro had denied all knowledge.

"Watanuki," Yuuko said after a moment, her voice a lazy, lazy drawl. "What day is today?"

Watanuki got out the last of the stain with more force than was perhaps strictly necessary. "It is Saturday, a day which many people are accustomed to not working. I'll make you dinner and bring you alcohol, and then I'm going home."

"Hmm," Yuuko said, and then lapsed into silence as she began packing her favorite pipe.

Watanuki tried not to let it bother him. He was used to people taking his food for granted, after all, like that big idiot Doumeki who just ate and ate and ate with no apparent regard for the hard work and, dare he say it, culinary creativity that went into Watanuki's food. And then here was Yuuko, who usually cared far more about the brand of alcohol accompanying the food, asking Watanuki to make something special for no good reason whatsoever.

Watanuki rocked the knife across the cutting board at an even pace and even pressure. Just because he was annoyed was no reason to take it out on his food. Which was special all the time, Yuuko's unreasonable requests to the contrary.

"It gets dark so early this time of year," he muttered to himself, sparing a glance out the kitchen window.

Yuuko looked at his offering for dinner with something akin to sad disappointment. "Aren't you going to make mirror mochi?" she asked, squeezing her hands in the air in what Watanuki assumed was meant to convey two rice cakes stacked on top of each other.

"What did I just say?" Watanuki demanded. "That's New Year's food, Yuuko-san. Which generally means you have to eat it on the New Year."

"Oh?" Yuuko said, bringing her first dish of sake to her lips. But before she took a drink, she looked over the dish at Watanuki and asked, "Watanuki, what day is today?"

"It's not New Year's," Watanuki ground out.

"So it isn't," Yuuko agreed.

Watanuki stalked back to the kitchen, head held high in victory. Which normally he would have reveled in, except for the slight roil of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

"Ah," Yuuko said, her cheeks flushed with the really unnecessary quantity of alcohol she and Mokona had consumed. "The sake is delicious. But something seems to be missing."

Watanuki briefly imagined throwing things across the room. "Fine," he said, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "If it's really that important to you, I'll go see if the store has put some mirror mochi out early. But I'm not promising you anything."

Yuuko's voice went from drunken to sharply stern in an instant. "Don't go outside, Watanuki. Don't you know what today is?"

"It is December 22, and if you think I'm making mochi by hand, by myself, you're out of your mind," Watanuki told her, and cast a nervous glance at the darkened window.

After pacing in the kitchen, Watanuki came back out and stopped in front of Yuuko, hands on hips. "And anyway," he said, "even if I made mirror mochi for you tonight, you're not supposed eat it until the middle of January anyway. Everyone knows that. Isn't there something else you'd like, Yuuko-san?"

Yuuko picked up her sake bottle forlornly. "Ah, I think you'd better go to the storehouse," she said, upending it to yield a last few drops into her dish.

"Listen to people when they're talking to you!"

"Take Mokona with you," Yuuko said, and Watanuki eyed the drunk furry little -- thing -- with something close to exasperated resentment.

Watanuki sneezed, because no matter how hard he worked, the storehouse was always dusty and a source of allergens.

"That bottle!" Mokona cooed from the crook of Watanuki's arm.

"Don't you think that's a bit much?" Watanuki said snippily. "You're like a bottomless pit for alcohol, do you know that?"

"Behind it, look behind it!"

Watanuki pulled out the bottle, and behind it was a box. "Bring this too, shall I?" he said, even though it looked totally unremarkable.

"Careful with the box," Mokona warned.

"Don't you mean, 'Careful with the booze'?" Watanuki said, but nonetheless carried bottle and box gingerly back to the main house.

"Your sake," Watanuki said, presenting Yuuko with the bottle.

"Ah, that's the one," she said happily, and waited with visible impatience for Watanuki to open the bottle and pour her some.

"And here's this," Watanuki said, sliding the box forward carefully.

"Ah," Yuuko said, and something about her tone made Watanuki pay careful attention. "Watanuki, do you know what today is?"

"What, already," Watanuki huffed.

Yuuko opened the box carefully to reveal a mirror mochi nestled inside.

"Yuuko-san, do you have any idea how long that's been in the storehouse?" Watanuki said, looking at the mochi with suspicion.

Yuuko didn't deign to answer that. Instead she asked, "What is the shortest day of the year?"

"The winter solstice," Watanuki said slowly.

"That's right," Yuuko said softly. "Did you know, Watanuki, that the festival celebrating the day the goddess Amaterasu came out of the Heavenly Cave wasn't always celebrated on the New Year? In ancient times, it was celebrated today -- the day of the longest night, followed by the sun goddess seeing her image in a mirror."

Watanuki looked down at the elaborate mirror mochi, with its mikan orange and ornamentation.

"The longest night of the year," Yuuko repeated softly. "A special time. Which is why you mustn't go outside this compound, Watanuki -- there are things that take advantage of this longest evening. You wouldn't be safe by yourself."

Watanuki gulped.

"But a mirror mochi is shaped like the sacred mirror that lured Amaterasu out of the cave. If you walked home with it, you would be safe."

"For a price?" Watanuki asked, because Yuuko didn't believe in gifts with no strings attached.

Yuuko gave a minute nod.

Watanuki shut the lid to the box firmly. "I don't need it. I'd rather sleep on the spare futon and make you breakfast in the morning."

"Breakfast!" Mokona burbled happily from somewhere under the table.

"Just a moment, Watanuki," Yuuko said, opening the box again. "Put this in the corner of the guest room."

"I told you, I don't need it."

Yuuko's lips curved into a faint smile. "You're making me breakfast, aren't you? That's a fair trade. Watanuki's food is always special after all. Besides, tonight is the longest night -- wouldn't you rather sleep, untroubled by anything?"

Watanuki took the box.

Watanuki unfolded the spare futon later that night, and he could see the orange and white mirror mochi out of the corner of his eye.

When he closed his eyes, he slept with no dreams whatsoever.