#and I'm not brave enough to leave everything behind and just move forward blindly

[the-better-rainbow-unikitty]

I'm tired. I'm so fucking tired and out of it I just put sunscreen on in the evening. I'm in pain all the time and tired of it all and disgusted by the way my life is right now. Bit it can't be changed. There is nothing I can do about any of this right now and it breaks my heart. I just want to cry and scream so loud my head explodes. I've been really, really low lately and when I'm this low, everything turns into a chore. Walking the dog? A chore. Writing a message? Another one. Even watching a movie or opening Spotify to listen to a podcast feels like one. I'm only capable of browsing tumblr or instagram mindlessly. But it's starting to get difficult, too. Should I just stare into a wall? I guess. But the same thing that leaves me numb all over also angers me. Why am I like this? Why can't I just be happy? Why can't I look forward to something, enjoy something, want to achieve something without forcing myself to, without pretending I do, without lying to everyone and myself? Could I tell the truth for once? What would it cost me? Is being truthful for once worth losing everything I've ever had?

[goodlucktai]

I just read that drabble you wrote two days ago -- the one where Kitamoto gets hurt -- and and and... COULD THERE PLEASE BE A CONTINUATION?? I really want to see how Nishimura and Kitamoto react to flying on Madara and their realization that Natsume indeed can see youkai and and and I'm imagining Natsume being terrified that they'll be too scared to approach him from now on but they're just like dude, you're our friend and always will be, and it'll be Tanuma's first time flying as well and AAHHH

a continuation of this

x 

Disappearingcats and disembodied voices are both things that Satoru was notprepared to deal with during their overnight camping trip; rightalongside his best friend breaking his wrist, and the four of themgearing up for an admittedly treacherous hike back down the mountainin the dark.

ButNatsume’s face is white with real fear, and his eyes are as dark asthey were the day Satoru met him, even if his expression doesn’treally change much. His arms are curled around his middle the waythey’d usually be curled around his cat, like a guard – as if thosefrail hands could shield him from anythingthat really wanted to hurt him – and, remarkably, Satoru can put asideeverything else that’s going on to frown at his friend.

Sure,there was a violent curl of wind and a screen of white smoke, andNyan-nyan-sensei vanished into thin air. Kitamoto stumbled back a fewsteps in alarm, but Tanuma was there to keep him steady, which leaves Satoru free to jab a finger at Natsume and snap, “You look like you’regonna pass out! Take a breath!”

Someof that awful, bleak dread in Natsume’s face recedes to make room forbewilderment instead. Satoru has that affect on people.

Andsure he’s scared, somewhere, in the back of his mind. His hands areshaking a little, so he shoves them in his pockets as he takes a fewfake-fearless steps forward, and makes sure to scowl at Natsume thesame way he always does; when Natsume won’t share the answers he gotfor their homework, or some of the tasty-looking food Touko packs inhis lunch. Like it’s everyday and normal, and Satoru’s not going to do –whatever it is Natsume is so afraid Satoru might do.

Satorudoesn’t like being on the other side of this wall Natsume puts up.He likes to think the two of them are close, these days, and hedoesn’t want to get pushed farther away.

“Iknew your ugly cat was weird,” Satoru leads with. “It cantalk, can’t it? I’ve heard it acouple of times, haven’t I?”

“Cheekybrat,” the voice of an old man grumbles from behind Natsume’sshoulder. Satoru jumps, and hears Kitamoto mutter a faint “what thehell,” but Natsume lifts a hand almost by reflex, reaching out asthough he’s patting a large animal that isn’t there. And seeing himdo that is a little disarming, like watching someone greet a faithfuldog at the front door. “If you could see my true form, you would beawed by it.”

Really,maybe it isn’t as surprising as it should be. Natsume’s always been alittle jumpy and a little odd, but once upon a time he was a quiet,brand new transfer student with reserved mannerisms and glass eyes,and Satoru yelled hurtful things at him in the library over anorigami book. Satoru never apologized for that – never explainedthat it was something dark and hateful weighing on his heart, makinghim do and say things he didn’t mean –  but he had never needed to.Because Natsume seemed to understand without asking, and followedSatoru when that darkness on his heart steered him blindly into thewoods, and knew how to save him, and carried him back home on thinshoulders, in thin arms.

MaybeSatoru has been willfully blind up until now, putting weird incidentsout of his mind as they happened so Natsume’s smile would stoplooking so strained. And maybe it was a kindness then, but it feelslike a disservice now.

“Nyan-nyan-sensei?”he says carefully. “Um – sorry, I’ve never talked to a talkingcat before – uh, so, how are you? And – what areyou? And – where…” he adds, sweeping their clearing with shrewd eyes, “…areyou?”

“He’sa yokai,” Tanuma steps in. His voice is so calm andsteady that it soaks most of the tension out of the air like asponge, and his eyes are focused on Natsume, clear and bright andsupportive. “Natsume can see them. They give him a lot of troubleat times, so Ponta looks after him. Like a bodyguard.”

“That’swhy he’s always following you around,” Kitamoto says carefully. Theshock didn’t do him any favors – jumping back like that probablyjarred his arm, if the way he’s wincing is any indication – butthere’s nothing mean in his face when he looks at Natsume. Satoru hasno clue why Natsume was afraid there ever could be. “I wondered howhe always managed to tag along on our school trips.”

Natsumeis looking back and forth between the three of them slowly, frozensomewhere between disbelief and confusion. He’s digging his fingersinto fur that Satoru can’t see, clinging to his calico cat’s trueform the way Kitamoto’s little sister used to cling to their mom’ssmock when she was younger. A safety blanket, Satoru thinks, andmoves stubbornly closer. Natsume doesn’t need oneof those right now, he’s not in any danger among his best friends.

“Soyou already told Tanuma about all this?” Satoru can’t help feeling a little hurt,but he’s mostly just trying to get that look off Natsume’s face whenhe adds, “That’s not fair, I knew you first!”

Tanumasmiles kindly at Satoru, seeing right through his efforts the way healways does whenNatsume is involved. “It’s not something he talks about easily,even to me. I can sense yokai, too, but only barely. That’s why I wasso interested in meeting Natsume after I heard all those rumors abouthim. I had never met anyone else who was aware of yokai before.”

“Me,too,” Natsume offers at that point. His voice is very soft, but hepresses bravely forward anyway. “I’ve always been the only one whocan see them. And it’s dangerous, when other people get involved. So,I – I keep it a secret. I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t trust you,I promise it’s not that. Sorry.”

Satorustares at him. The single step between them feels about a mile wide,and yawning wider.

Healways knew there had to be a reason someone like Natsume grew up sounwanted, passed from place to place, from family to family. Therehad to be a reason why people spoke so badly of him, why rumorsfloated after him at every new school he enrolled in. Rumors thatcalled him creepy, andcursed, and a liar.

Back when Natsumewas little, Satoru thinks, it probably wasn’t as easy not to flinchwhen he saw a monster in the window. It probably wasn’t as easy notto cry when something scary followed him home.

And Satoru has seenhim faint without warning in the hallway at school, and fall off abridge into the deep of the river as if he was pushed, and run awayinto the dark of the forest by himself, and shout half of a heatedargument into thin air. He comes to class with dark circles undertired eyes and a wan smile that doesn’t touch the rest of his face,only leases impersonal space with his mouth. 

It’sdangerous enough that he needs a bodyguard, Satoru realizes. It’sscary enough that Tanuma always looks pale when Natsume is late forschool.

“Yeah,”Kitamoto says quietly. “I think I understand.” He’s watchingNatsume carefully, but when Natsume glances at him, Kitamoto softenswith a grin. “So can we pet him? You know Nishimura’s dying to.”

A gustof warm, musky air hits the side of Satoru’s face and rufflesNatsume’s hair – a huff of breath, followed by a disgruntled, “Doyou mistake me for a household pet?”

“Sensei,”Natsume scolds him, at the same time Tanuma says, “Mistake? Ponta,he carries you around every day like a doll.”

They do get to pethim. For all his mighty bluster, and the animated way he and Natsumebicker with each other, he subsides after a few minutes with athroaty grumble. Natsume guides Satoru’s hand to the thick of soft,downy fur, and it’s a little trippy – after all, he can’t seeanything there – but more than that, it’s really cool.

“What does helook like?” Satoru asks, trying to find Nyan-nyan-sensei’s favoritespot to be scratched behind the ear. The invisible body beneath hishand shifts, startling him for a moment, until he realizes thecat-yokai is leaning into the touch. Like a dog, he thinks again, gleefully,and finally finds a big, soft ear to scratch behind. “What color ishe? Is he really, really big? Can he really fly? Are we really goingto fly?”

When he glances up, Kitamoto and Tanuma are both smiling at him – so warm and fond that it’s a little embarrassing, so Satoru quickly looks over at Natsume instead. At Natsume, whose amber eyes are light again, and trembling wetly with something that looks like downright staggering gratitude, and jeez, he’s no better than the other two. 

If he thanks me I’ll hit him, Satoru decides mulishly, even as his face burns under the combined attention. Natsume doesn’t, though. He wipes a sleeve over his face, even though he hasn’t cried, and turns to offer Kitamoto his hand.

Looking a little taller, and a little older, and a little softer in the bright moonlight as he says, “Yeah. Let me show you.”