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goodlucktai · 3 years ago

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What about some hurt/comfort for Natsume & Natori? (Not slash tho)

Natori doesn't seem like he has anyone in his life to take care of him except his shikigami :(

"You need to sleep," Hiiragi says. Her tone is unchanging, an unhurried monotone, but somehow it manages to carry a thread of concern.

Shuuichi waves her off, sifting through papers. "In a minute. I just have to finish this."

A group of exorcists in over their heads sent these reports earlier today. Yesterday, now, Shuuichi amends inwardly with a bleary glance at the clock in the kitchen, which reads an inappropriately cheerful 6:07 AM. And they'll arrive to collect them, along with Shuuichi's notes, in just a few hours.

"They are presumptuous," Hiiragi says, "to assume you had this time to spare them, and on such short notice. You're busy."

"Not with anything that matters," Shuuichi laughs. It comes out not sounding like a laugh at all. Hiiragi tips her head incrementally to the side, no doubt staring at him behind her mask.

"Your work does matter."

"This work does," Shuuichi says, laying a hand on the papers scattered across the desk. "The other stuff-- "

"The 'stuff' that pays your bills," Hiiragi says. "The 'stuff' that keeps you fed, and gives you reason to leave your house and interact with people who won't make you think about ghosts."

It's Shuuichi's turn to stare. "I didn't realize you were such a firm believer in my acting career."

"I don't understand it," she says frankly. "But you enjoy it. It may not be.... 'vanquishing evil,'" she goes on, quoting the report the exorcists sent as if it's something slimy she's peeling off her shoe, "but that doesn't mean it doesn't matter."

It might be the lack of sleep talking, but Shuuichi feels strangely touched. He has to swallow before he can reply, something that happens rarely, if at all.

"I'll make sure to sign an autograph for you," he teases, grinning. "But only after I've finished this."

"Hm," Hiiragi says. She doesn't call him an idiot, at least. A few minutes after that she leaves from the living room window, ostensibly to patrol the neighborhood.

Shuuichi will just finish his notes, and then set an alarm for-- he checks the clock again, and winces-- and hour and a half. He'll get that much sleep, at least. He's worked with less.

At some point, the front door opens. That's odd. Only a few people have a key to his apartment, and none of them who do live anywhere near here. His shiki certainly don't use the door.

A familiar voice says, "Hi, Natori-san."

Shuuichi lifts his head, so fast his vision swims. There's Natsume, standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the sitting room, hands full with a cardboard drink tray and a brown paper bag bearing the distinctive golden arches. He looks decidedly windblown, as if he flew the whole way here. He probably did.

His brow is wrinkled, mouth tucked into a frown. It's the way Shuuichi imagines Hiiragi's face looks behind her mask at least ninety-percent of the time.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Shuuichi says, pushing himself upright. He has to lean on the desk to get there. Natsume clocks it with a flick of his eyes but doesn't comment. "Don't you have school today?" Shuuichi goes on, desperately trying to remember what day it is. Friday, right?

"No school," Natsume says, putting the drinks and the bag on the counter. "Teacher's institute."

"Are you in trouble?" Shuuichi asks carefully.

"I have to be in trouble to come visit you?"

Natsume wanders into the sitting room and sets his messenger bag and his ugly cat down on the sofa. He actually points a stern finger at the cat in clear warning that it needs to behave itself, as if it isn't actually a giant monster capable of leveling buildings should it so choose. Something about that manages to be hilarious, where it isn't slightly horrifying.

Shuuichi smiles a bit. This weird kid means the world to him.

"Did you bring me breakfast?" he asks lightly. "I hope that's coffee."

Natsume is so receptive to any manner of kindness, even after the life he's lived, that he smiles back like a knee-jerk reaction. It still feels like an accomplishment when he does.

"Tea," he corrects. "And some egg sandwiches. The sausage ones are for sensei. Can you eat with me, or-- if you're too busy-- "

"I can take a break," Shuuichi says, and slings his arm around Natsume's shoulders, steering him back into the kitchen. "Let's talk about what dragged you all the way out here in the early hours of the morning, shall we? Does your mother know where you are?"

"Of course she does," Natsume insists. "She even sent some leftovers with me. I put them in the fridge already."

Shuuichi is in a vulnerable state, and that just about undoes him. He clears his throat and takes a big, scalding gulp of tea instead of saying or doing anything embarrassing. "Tell her I said thank you," he manages.

"Or you could just call her," Natsume points out dryly.

"Or I could just call her," Shuuichi agrees.

In his defense, Shuuichi truly didn’t stand a chance. The combination of heavy food and a hot drink… the pale fingers of dawn creeping through the shades at the kitchen window… the steady back-and-forth of comfortable, friendly conversation… no one asking anything of him, expecting anything from him, except his company…

He dozes off in his chair at the counter, face buried in his folded arms. He feels someone draw a blanket around his shoulders, their cold fingers lingering protectively near his nape, and Hiiragi’s voice says, “Thank you. He’s very stupid.”

“No he isn’t,” Natsume replies loyally. “Well, not all the time.”

It’s ridiculous how well Shuuichi sleeps after that.

He wakes up a solid ten hours later, the blanket slipping to the floor. The TV is on in the next room. Hiiragi is perched on the counter beside him. Her mask somehow manages to appear both smug and judgemental without actually changing at all.

“Sleep well?” she asks with no inflection.

“What-- time is it?” Shuuichi asks blearily, looking around for the clock.

“A little after four,” Hiiragi says. “Those exorcists have come and gone.”

“What?”

“They didn’t come inside. Natsume dealt with them at the door.”

“Sorry, Natori-san,” Natsume pipes up in the doorway. He shuffles a bit, self-conscious until Hiiragi seems to catch his eye. Then he lifts his chin a little and says, “You seemed tired, so I handled it. Hiiragi and Sasago both said it was okay.”

Betrayal, Shuuichi thinks, glaring hard at Hiiragi. She gazes serenely back, entirely unmoved. He’s firing her.

“Natsume, I appreciate it,” because there’s very little in this life that Natsume could do that Shuuichi wouldn’t back him up on, “but don’t talk to strangers. Even though they’re exorcists, that doesn’t automatically make them trustworthy.”

“I don’t trust most exorcists,” Natsume says plainly. “You’re one of, like, two exceptions.”

And there’s a lot to unpack there, but for some reason the first thing Shuuichi thinks of to ask is, “One of two? Who’s the other one?”

After a beat, in which Natsume looks as though he doesn’t want to answer, he admits, “Hakozaki-san.”

“Hak-- the recluse with the dragon shiki? The owner of that mansion we watched burn?” Shuuichi laughs, unable to help himself. It unwinds tension in his body he hadn’t even realized he was holding. “Natsume, you never even met him!”

“I still liked him!” Natsume says hotly, embarrassed. “He was friends with yokai!”

“And I’m sure if he’d had the chance to know you, he would have spirited you away as his son and heir within two business days.” Shuuichi chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Lucky for me he didn’t have the chance, I suppose.”

Natsume huffs, but he still climbs into the seat next to Shuuichi. After a beat, Nyanko-sensei hops up into his lap.

“I might have gotten you in trouble with those exorcists,” the boy admits. “I told them to do their own homework from now on. That if they kept taking advantage of your kindness, you wouldn’t help them anymore.” He glances at Shuuichi sidelong from beneath his fringe, and adds, “They got mad, so I sicced sensei on them. I, um, think they thought he was my shiki. I also think they thought I’m from your clan. I couldn’t tell ‘cause they were all, um-- screaming, at the same time.”

And-- okay. There is a right and a wrong way to react to this, clearly. A teenage boy using his terrifying yokai friend to menace people within Shuuichi’s network? Not good! Very bad, even!

But Shuuichi has to lean forward against the counter, face buried in his hands, because he’s absolutely howling with laughter. Natsume is stammering, trying to explain himself, but he doesn’t say sorry. He isn’t sorry for sticking up for Shuuichi. He showed up at Shuuichi’s apartment at seven AM with McDonald’s on his day off from school, and chased a bunch of exorcists out of the building, because his friend needed a break and that’s just the kind of person Natsume is.

The kind of person who deserves something fancy for dinner tonight, Shuuichi decides, and he’s still smiling as he reaches for his phone.

Hiiragi places it neatly in his hand.

“I don’t want your autograph,” she says. She doesn't call him an idiot out loud, but she's probably thinking it.

Hell, he’ll order something fancy for her, too.

#natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #natori shuuichi #natsume takashi #hiiragi #my writing #prompt #anonymous #natsuyuu fic

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owletstarlet · 6 years ago

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Owlet’s inevitable Natsume Yuujinchou movie spiel

Ok, so the Natsume movie. This is a collection of my impressions and things I found significant, but it is spoilery as hell so it's under a cut, so if you want the plot to be a surprise maybe don't read this. And this with the caveat that I understood the gist of the movie but my Japanese is still really, really awful, so anyone who sees the movie who can understand Japanese well (like the folks at @apta-scans) are more than welcome to correct me on any of the details.

So first off, the youkai (the main one, though there are actually three in the story). He's the spirit of an old tree, and he has the power to alter memories, and to impersonate humans and use memory manipulation to integrate himself pretty flawlessly into people's lives. And everything about him breaks my heart. There's an elderly woman in the story who'd met Reiko once when she was a teenager (who Natsume comes across because he saw her in another youkai's flashback while returning a name), and the youkai is pretending to be her adult son so that she won't be lonely. He'd been hiding away in the tree for years and years before that point, but the woman came first as a child to the small shrine beside the tree and kept coming back throughout her life, and the impression I got was that she' s unable to have children (I may be vastly wrong about that, again anyone feel free to correct me), but the bottom line is she's lonely, and he doesn't have anyone either, so he finally leaves the tree so he can give her a family. I won't say how it all pans out, but in typical Natsuyuu fashion I wanted to ugly-cry in the theater.

Second, the mini-Nyankos, if anyone wants to know how that went down, more or less what happens is that Sensei eats fruit produced by the youkai's tree (three gourd-looking things that have little cat-ears and are striped orange and gray, hrrrrm....), and then the next morning he becomes three of himself and none of them are able talk. And the Dogs' Circle is unsuccessful at both babysitting the minis and keeping them from running away and getting lost. It becomes clear that the minis have some of the effects of the tree in making people forget things/altering people's memories (Taki finds one of them, and ultimately winds up believing she's the granddaughter of the elderly woman, and forgets who Natsume and Tanuma even are). Also. I don't need to say this but they're so cute, holy shit.

Third, it was brief but I think that the most poignant moment in the whole movie for me is when, after it's clear that the minis are altering people's memories, Natsume wakes up from a nightmare that the Fujiwaras straight-up forgot who he was. He wakes up yelling, and he just. Scoops up the only mini-Sensei that hasn't run away by that point, wordlessly holds him close, and is just so visibly shaken. Just the prospect of it is so terrifying to him, because for him the Fujiwaras are the foundation of his entire current life and without them he's faced with the prospect of having nothing and nobody all over again. Very well-done and very *ouch*.

Fourth. Tanuma, my boy. When Natsume loses two of the three minis, and Taki's mysteriously vanished too, Tanuma asks him what's going on, he sits him down and explains everything, and accepts Tanuma's help. CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, ahem. And we got, just. A whole bunch of screentime of the two of them working together to Solve Problems (and my shipping heart was thrilled). And I think it's telling in terms of Tanuma's character development, too, that when shit hits the fan and Natsume knows he's going to have to face down a Big Bad Youkai (different one, not the tree youkai), he tells Tanuma to leave and go meet up with Taki, and Tanuma immediately agrees and goes. Was it hard for him to do that if Natsume was going to be in danger? Probably. Has he learned after Omibashira that he needs to trust Natsume's judgment and recognize his own limitations? Yes, and I am very proud of him.

Fifth. Natori. He does have a legitimate plot-pertinent reason for being there (he and some other exorcists have heard of the aforementioned Big Bad Youkai and are in the town to try to stop it), and in the end Natsume does need his help to seal the youkai, but the other fifty percent of his being there is absolutely for fanservice purposes (complete with his skeevy soundtrack theme that I hate). And naturally, he shows up and tries to exorcise the tree youkai, who is not the youkai he's after, and Natsume steps in to stop him like Oh My God Why Are You Like This. However. The two reasons I was glad he was in the movie are: him laughing at one of the mini-Nyankos and then promtply (and satisfyingly) getting whomped in the face for it; and then all three of the shiki getting a chance to shine and demonstrate what sexy scary badasses they are while aiding the exorcism.

Sixth. I'm not completely clear on everything that happened here because the language barrier really got in the way here, but Natsume meets someone who at one point was a childhood friend (I think Yuki was his name?). And when Natsume goes to move towards him to say hello, the kid kind of freezes up then flinches away, and Natsume's pretty bothered by it. We get a flashback of the two of them in elementary school, and they were friends for a short time (I *think* he may have told him he could see youkai, this is what I'm not clear on, and I wanna say that Yuki wasn't bothered by it and thought it was a neat secret, but I didn't understand enough to confirm that). Anyways the two of them go off into the woods to a waterfall one day, and there's a youkai there that threatens them, and Yuki goes to throw a rock at the waterfall and Natsume tackles him to the ground to stop him. And it shows them walking back home, and they're both a little battered and dirty, and Yuki's walking way ahead of him obviously hurt/confused/mad and Natsume just looks miserable. Anyhow, the movie ends with the two of them meeting back up in the present, and reconciling (I'm not sure but I think Natsume tells him he was just lying about the youkai stuff and that he's sorry, I really need to watch the movie translated because I want to know exactly what was said). I think it's good that the movie depicted that Natsume did have people who wanted to be his friend, but that those people ultimately hurt him or didn't stay. But the reconciliation scene showed that the bad endings didn't have to stay bad (Shibata's character serves the same purpose, what a tool, I love him).

Anyways. My general takeaway from the movie is that all your memories are crucial to who you are as a person, the bad and the good, and for Natsume personally, the bad gave way to the good and was necessary to arrive there. That's all for now, I'm probably going to see it again with a friend next weekend so I'll add more to this if I see fit but mostly I can't wait for there to be a translation available. This movie was so amazing, and so very worth the wait.

#natsume yuujinchou #natsume yuujinchou movie #natsuyuu #natsume's book of friends #natsume takashi #tanuma kaname #nyanko sensei #taki tooru #natsume yuujinchou film #tanunatsu

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skygemspeaks · 7 years ago

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Hc that Natori literally never stops talking about Natsume on the set.

His directors and co-actors and actresses are all just...so sick of hearing about “Takashi-kun.”

Every other sentence that comes out of Natori’s mouth is “Takashi this” and “Takashi that”.

It’s easy to see that Natori completely adores this mysterious “Takashi-kun”, and at first everyone thinks he must be Natori’s s/o.

(The number rumours that sparks is kind of terrifying. Natori can’t for the life of him understand why so many of his male co-workers are suddenly being extra friendly with him.)

But when someone asks him about it one day, the look of utter disgust that passes Natori’s face is shocking.

“He’s 15,” Natori grinds out with a grimace, and the other person hurries to apologize for making assumptions.

After that, the rumours change from “Natori Shuuichi is gay” to “Natori Shuuichi has the biggest little brother complex and it’s the cutest thing ever.”

The number of girls throwing themselves at Natori increases tenfold.

(“A man who cares so much about his family is just the most attractive thing ever,” they sigh dreamily to each other.)

And then, one day, the schools are out for summer vacation, and Natori is absolutely beaming when he arrives on set, followed by a teenager sticking so close to his side that they’re almost tripping over each other’s feet.

The teenager is hugging an ugly cat to his chest, and looking around at everyone warily.

He’s absolutely gorgeous, all lean limbs and soft features. His hair is a stunning silver, and his eyes are only a few shades darker.

He smiles faintly at something Natori says - a smile that could make flowers bloom.

And everyone immediately knows that this is the “Takashi-kun” they’ve heard so much about.

And okay yeah, they can totally understand why Natori talks about him so much. He’s the kind of kid that everyone wants to protect, the kind of kid that you would do anything to make him smile.

(There’s a brief moment of confusion when everyone addresses him as “Natori-chan”.

“To differentiate between you and your big brother,” they explain, thinking his confusion stems from the honorific, and not from the name.

Natsume isn’t sure what to say, but when he sees that Natori-san doesn’t seem too bothered at the misunderstanding, just chuckles and tells them to “back off and give Takashi-kun some room;” Natsume decides to just let it slide.

It’s kind of nice, he thinks, to have an older brother figure.

He gets so used to being addressed as Natori, that when he returns to school two weeks later, he’s almost startled to be called by his real name.)

#natsuyuu #natsume yuujinchou #natsume's book of friends #natori shuuichi #natsume takashi #brothers au

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coramatus · 8 years ago

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Stupid Fanfic Ideas Theater #4

Natsume Yuujinchou (Natsume’s Book of Friends)/Mob Psycho 100 Crossover

In a strange turn of events, Mob and Reigen find themselves hired by a spirit. Their job: find and retrieve its name from the fabled “Book of Friends”.

A story about two sad Japanese boys with spoopy powers dealing with spoopy situations.

We start at the Spirits and Such office, on a normal quiet Friday. All of sudden, Dimple just up and flees. Before either Reigen or Mob can figure out what’s gotten into him, a mysterious fox-masked woman in flowing robes enters. Reigen assumes she’s just a regular, if fancy, customer and gives her the usual spiel, but Mob stops him short, informing him of her supernatural nature. She seems amused by this and tells them she wants to hire them for a job. After all, they consult on all matters regarding spirits. So there’s no reason a spirit can’t be part of their clientele, right? As incentive, she pre-pays for half with a small bag of ancient gold coins and high-quality jade magatama. Reigen eagerly accepts the job, until Mob thinks to ask what she wants them to do.

Their mission: Find and retrieve the spirit’s name. The spirit lost it to a mortal many years ago and would rather like it back now. The best leads she has for them is the general area it happened in, the name Natsume Reiko, and that it might be part of something called “The Book of Friends”. Mob asks why she can’t just go get it herself, to which she tells him that she was chased out by local spirits and is reluctant to return to that area.

Reigen reaffirms that they’ll take the job. They shake on it and the spirit goes on her way, promising to show up when they’re ready. How exactly she’s supposed to know is gone unanswered. So Reigen dives in to start researching the area and this Natsume person, dismissing Mob as he probably won’t be needed until the next day.

When Mob gets home, Dimple is there waiting. He asks what happened and how they got out of there without so much as a peep. Mob has no idea what Dimple means, so the spirit has to explain that the woman they met is an exceptionally powerful entity. As in: all it would take to exorcise him would be for her to just look at him funny. Mob thinks this is odd because the sense he got from the spirit was a decent energy output, nothing too alarming. But Dimple’s interest is piqued when Mob mentions the job, specifically regarding the Book of Friends. Dimple says that’s only a rumor among spirits and youkai. He’s suspicious enough about the whole affair to resolve to stick with the two mortals to keep an eye on them, and maybe get a look of that supposed Book.

The next morning, Reigen calls in Mob. They’re off for a train ride to the countryside, a several hour long trip. It’s during this time, Reigen gives a rundown of his findings. Where they’re headed has a long history of supernatural happenings, but nothing earth-shattering like what they’ve faced in Seasoning City. In addition, there really was once a Natsume that lived in the area specified, but she passed on many years ago. He did manage to track down an address to investigate, as she might still have relatives around to ask for belongings they can search. Reigen wonders is it really just comes down to finding a book, but they learn from Dimple that the whole affair is more complicated than it sounds. The Book of Friends is rumored to be a compilation of the names of supernatural entities. While that doesn’t sound impressive to mortals, it’s a deathly serious matter for spirits and youkai. For if you learn the true name of a spirit, you are given ultimate power over them and can command them to your will. To have one name is one thing, but to have an entire book filled with them means the potential to lead an army, making it prized among evil spirits and malevolent youkai. If it is real, then whoever owns the book now either doesn’t know about it or is actively using it for their own purposes. Mob and Reigen are a bit unsettled by this, but they’ve already gone ahead with the plan so they may as well see it through.

They eventually arrive at an unassuming little town, where things look fairly normal from the outside and is populated by friendly enough people. What is a bit weird is the higher number of spirits hanging around than expected. Most watch them with something between fear and awe. Dimple assumes its because of him, since is area used to be part of his stomping grounds. Mob doubts it though, since most spirits don’t even seem to be looking at Dimple, but rather himself. He doesn’t say anything though, not until they arrive at their destination anyways and are met with a weird obese cat sitting right in their path. Reigen tries nudging it away with his foot but makes the mistake of calling it an ugly pig statue, to which it yowls and launches itself at his face, clawing like a rabid animal. Mob manages to pull off the bowling ball cat just in time to hear Dimple laughing like crazy at the cat’s appearance. The cat immediately launches into hurling back insults, ignoring the two humans staring at the now talking cat, whom the humans learn is a youkai named Madara. Madara demands to know what Dimple is doing there, since he booted him out years ago. Dimple retorts that he left willingly, simply following the humans to their denser-packed cities and the concentrated energies there. Mob chooses to cut in, saying they were hired to retrieve a name from a Natsume Reiko, instantly grabbing the cat’s attention. Madara gives Mob a good look over, commenting he can see why Dimple would have the audacity to return with such a strong exorcist shielding him, but quickly moves on to demand what the kid knows about Reiko. Before he answers, someone else comes in, asking what they want to know about their grandmother.

They’re joined by a boy, maybe a year or two older than Mob, with light hair and slit-pupils. The cat runs and jumps into his arms, demanding he not speak a word, but the kid responds that if this has something to do with Reiko, it likely is his business. Reigen butts in, asking if Reiko was his grandma then who is he? The boy introduces himself as Natsume Takashi and the cat as Nyanko-sensei. While Madara and Dimple squabble over names, the three humans talk. After Mob and Reigen introduce themselves, the esper notes that he can sense a rather large amount of psychic energy coming from Natsume, who uncomfortably admits that he can see and interact with spirits. Mob smiles and says that he can too. Natsume is surprised to hear just how easily Mob admits it. Before he can ask, Mob breaks into an explanation as to what they’re there for and Natsume brightens, saying he knows exactly how to help and asks for the spirit whose name was taken. The out-of-towners exchange glances and sheepishly admit that the spirit sent them, but didn’t come with.

From there, they have a late lunch and scrape together a plan. Reigen and Mob will escort Natsume back to Seasoning City on the soonest train. Since it’ll be a long trip, Natsume will have to stay overnight in the city. He manages to pull together a cover story, that he’s staying at a friend’s for a sleepover, but will really be at Mob’s place for the night, since that would be safest for both parties. The next morning, they’ll do the ritual asap and then escort Natsume back home. Madara of course insists that he’s coming along, being Natsume’s bodyguard and all. And he doesn’t trust Dimple within an inch of his life. 

The two groups break, Reigen and Mob heading back to the train station to wait for Natsume, while Natsume goes to pack for his unexpected trip. While they walk back home, Nyanko-sensei demands to know what on earth Natsume’s thinking, going out of his way to help these complete strangers with their supposed spirit waiting in another city entirely. It’s probably a trap for all they know, what with that stupid green fart cloud hanging around. But Natsume thinks of Mob’s earnestness and doesn’t think they’re lying. Even if they are, he doesn’t want to potentially leave a poor spirit without their name. Nyanko-sensei just snorts and says that Natsume is lucky he’s got such a great bodyguard, otherwise he’d have been eaten a million times over already. 

The ride back to Seasoning City is fairly quiet, particularly since Madara is forced into silence, lest other commuters realize there’s a talking cat in their midst. Of course, this opens up an opportunity for Dimple to invisibly taunt him with no repercussions, like teasing him for being in a cat carrier bag of all things. The humans just ignore them while they quietly get to know each other. Reigen and Mob can’t help but be curious about the Book of Friends and what Natsume is doing with it. So Natsume shares his backstory and his mission of returning all the Book’s names, even idly showing it to them. Mob notes that there’s a lot of different emotions radiating off each page: some angry, some sad, some fearful, while a few are amused. Natsume in turn is curious about what Mob’s abilities are, to which Reigen shares in broad strokes their backstory, Mob filling in details here and there. The two boys soon get into a conversation about their powers, learning what each other can do with a few discreet demonstrations peppered throughout. The fact that they both have immense degrees of power with difficulty managing it isn’t lost on either of them. (Reigen takes a nap in the background as this happens) 

Once they arrive, Dimple and Madara break off rather abruptly, Madara claiming that after hours of Dimple’s torment, he needs a freaking drink, while Dimple chases after him, knowing that the cat will definitely slander his name in the spirit community. The last that’s heard of them is Madara distantly boasting that Dimple has no hope of stopping him when he once drank Amaterasu herself under the table. Reigen comments that this looming drunken rampage had better not come back to bite them in the ass and bids Mob and Natsume a good night.

(Presumably there’s another conversation between the two as they head to Mob’s place. FRIENDSHIP.)

The two boys make it to the Kageyama household with little incident. Thankfully, Mob thought ahead and informed his parents about their sudden guest. They’re a little surprised when Mob says that Natsume is his internet friend, who was “traveling through the area and needed a place to crash for the night”. But they’re understanding and extend their hospitality, even having an extra place for him at the dinner table. Only Ritsu gives Natsume a silent, hard look throughout the meal. After dinner, Ritsu confronts Natsume, flat out telling him that his brother doesn’t have internet friends. Natsume can only shrug and admit he doesn’t either, explaining the actual circumstances of his presence. Ritsu frowns, pointing out that it’s weird a spirit would make humans do something as simple as this sounds. Natsume has no idea either, but figures it’s just spirit rules or something; they see and do things differently after all. Ritsu isn’t happy about this (all of it stinks of Reigen’s handiwork) and says he’s coming with them tomorrow to keep an eye on things. But he gets off Natsume’s case. 

By the time bedtime rolls around, Mob knows that his brother’s coming along and doesn’t have any objections to it. As they settle down in Mob’s room, Natsume comments that Ritsu seems quite protective of his older brother, to which Mob just smiles and says that they worry over each other a lot. Slowly they start to open up a bit about their families and their lives. Both are upset at learning what the other went through: Mob is saddened to find out about Natsume’s near constant rejection and Natsume equally dismayed that Mob’s abilities made him so fearful of their destructive power. They comfort each other, promising to help the other out in the future when they need it. The rest of the night is spent trading stories about spirit/youkai encounters until they eventually fall asleep. 

The following morning starts peacefully enough, with the three boys getting up and heading over to Reigen’s office. Both Mob and Natsume are noticeably more comfortable around each other, quietly pointing out wandering spirits here or there. Ritsu can’t help but notice how at ease his brother is with someone who was a complete stranger only the night before. Though he’s not sure what to make of Natsume, Ritsu has to admit that the soft-spoken boy does make for a good friend for Mob.

Unfortunately, that peace is broken when Madara comes tearing around a corner. At first, the cat looks relieved to find Natsume, but that quickly changes when he demands that the boys start running in the other direction. The reason why is quickly made apparent when a horde of spirits and youkai turn the corner as well. The four of them immediately bolt. Neither Mob nor Ritsu have encountered so many high level entities out in the open like this and are baffled as to what’s going on. Then Dimple comes flying in after them, yelling at Madara about being a drunken idiot blabbermouth around so many malevolent spirits. It’s not hard to figure out what went wrong after that.

However, Natsume is more startled to find that some of these spirits are in far more grotesque forms than the ones he’s met so far. Madara explains that city spirits and youkai are nothing like the relatively docile, countryside ones back where they live. Human cities tend to generate a lot more negative energy, the concentration of which is enough to make city spirits and youkai far more aggressive and monstrous than when left to the wild. Mob idly wonders if that’s why the youkai he fought that one time were as hostile as they were. Ritsu’s more concerned that Mob even fought youkai at all.

The chase gets cut short when the five find themselves at a dead end. Their pursuers close in, demanding that they hand over the Book of Friends and also maybe submit themselves to getting eaten. Madara tells them off, growling that they’ll have the Book over his dead body, but they’re not remotely threatened by a maneki neko. Madara wipes the smug look off their faces by transforming into his massive monster dog form and dives into the group, sending smaller spirits flying. Dimple joins in, demanding Madara save a few for him. With the youkai distracted, Ritsu uses his powers to create an escape and the boys scramble away. Mob takes a moment to be a good employee and calls up Reigen to let him know they’ll be late on account of evil spirits chasing them. Reigen handles this with his usual aplomb (i.e. sweat) and tells the kids to keep heading to his office where he’ll hopefully meet them halfway before things get too ridiculous.

Things get ridiculous.

There’s a sequence of events here I haven’t fully parsed out yet, but I know it involves Reigen coming to the rescue, looking cool and badass as he stands off against the throng of monsters, actually managing to give some of them pause. And then Reigen throws salt everywhere. Impressing nobody. But it makes for a good distraction. Mob and Natsume make a break for it, while Ritsu stays behind to keep Reigen from getting eaten.

Before they go, Reigen notes that Mob hasn’t raised a hand against their pursuers yet. Mob hesitantly admits that he’s reluctant to use his powers on the youkai, citing the stories that Natsume told of his youkai friends. It doesn’t seem right to use his powers on sentient entities, even if they are out for their blood. Natsume is oddly touched by this, but he admits that when push comes to shove, even he has been forced to exorcise spirits when they threatened him or his loved ones. Mob takes this into consideration while Reigen suggests they get to the spirit that hired them. The sooner Natsume does what he needs to do, the less full their hands will be to wrangle the horde. Also, it wouldn’t do for Mob to accidentally exorcise their client in the crossfire.

So Mob grabs onto Natsume, firing off a quick apology before he launches them both into the air. Natsume would be freaked out, but this isn’t his first time going on an impromptu flight, just his first time doing it with a definite human. They take a moment to survey their surroundings to find a safe place to land when Natsume points out a distant park, where a bright point of energy is radiating. Mob recognizes it and flies in that direction. Soon enough, they spot the figure of the masked woman calmly sitting at the top of a hill and Mob goes in for a landing. He kind of botches it though, and both he and Natsume go tumbling to the feet of the spirit, much to her amusement.

Pleasantries and introductions are quickly made before Mob goes to secure the surroundings. While they got a good distance away, it’s only a matter of time before the horde catches back up to them. They need to do this fast. Mob watches as Natsume performs the name-returning ritual, feeling his friend’s power swell around him as he blows on the strip of paper, ink swirling through the air before returning to its rightful place. And then Natsume passes out, Mob barely catching him in time. He gets the sense that his friend is just exhausted from the ritual. The spirit, meanwhile, shakes herself off, lightly commenting that she feels better already. She also suggests that Natsume could maybe do with a boost. Mob gets the hint and transfers a bit of his energy to Natsume, instantly reviving him. Natsume curiously asks the spirit just how she of all people managed to lose a race against an average human. The spirit just shrugs, telling him that she thought it would be funny.

At this point, a much smaller horde manages to catch up to them. Mob is a little fed up at this point, his explosion meter hovering somewhere in the high eighties. He faces down the youkai and gives the the ultimatum to leave in peace or suffer the consequences. The youkai just laugh at him and try attacking him only to be met with Mob’s barrier. This pisses them off and they try ganging up on him, pushing the meter to the mid-ninties. Mob tells Natsume and the spirit to get away, which only turns the youkai’s attention to them. Realizing, Mob doesn’t have the book, they swarm around him to get to Natsume.

None of them make it, as Mob hits 100%, this time in Protectiveness. His powers flare and the horde bursts into so much spiritual energy. Natsume is awed by just how much power his friend wields. With their pursuers vanquished, Mob quickly settles back down. He checks on Natsume, who’s fine, if a bit shaken. Then he remembers he’d accidentally blasted in the direction of the masked spirit, but he’s relieved to see her no worse for the wear, having protected herself with a mirror shield wreathed in flames. Mob apologizes, but she waves him off, she’s faced worse, she tells him.

The others come crashing in then, Reigen and Ritsu both hanging on for dear life to a giant fluffy Madara, with Dimple floating in close behind. Both of them get sent to the dirt when their ride shifts back into blob cat form and jumps into Natsume’s arms. Everyone checks up on each other, until the spirit announces she’s taking her leave. Dimple gets antsy at her presence while Madara looks like he’s been robbed. He could’ve had her under his command?! he exclaims. She just smirks at him.

As she passes by, the spirit hands Reigen a little jingling pouch, the second half of her payment, and thanks him for a job well done. She then surprises Natsume as well, giving him a slightly larger pouch as compensation for his time and energy. Madara is quick to grab it and look through it, eyes lighting up at what he finds. Natsume tries to refuse, but she gives him a motherly smile and tells him to just take it. Something about her smile strangely compels him to accept it for once. And like that, the spirit disappears just as mysteriously as she appeared.

There’s a scene where Natsume and Mob talk about their powers. Mob’s a little envious that Natsume can use his powers to help the supernatural while Mob only seems to be good at exorcising it. Natsume reassures Mob that what he’s doing is good too, he’s keeping people safe from the dangerous elements of the supernatural.

One scene change later, we find the group at the train station. Reigen and Mob offer to see Natsume back home, but he politely declines, not wanting to impose. Besides, Madara taught those city youkai a thing or two about messing with him or his charge, the cat boasts. Everyone says their goodbyes, Natsume and Mob exchanging their phone numbers and emails, promising to keep in touch. Guess they really are internet friends now, huh? Reigen makes sure to pass along his business card, in case anything ever comes up or he just needs a spirit-aware adult to talk to. Ritsu just shrugs at Natsume, saying that he’s alright. Dimple and Madara spend their time bitching at each other. They do manage to wish the other good luck with their charges. On the platform, the Seasoning City residents wave goodbye to Natsume and Madara as the train leaves, taking the two back home.

That night, Mob gets a text from Natsume reading that he got home safe and sound. After he sends back a relieved reply, Mob wonders about the spirit with the returned name. Looking up at the full moon, he quietly wonders aloud who the spirit was. He turns to go to sleep, but finds the spirit standing right there in his room. Mob is reasonably startled by this, until she casually explains that her brother happened to overhear him and passed along the message. He hesitantly asks her if she planned for all this. Even he sensed there was something a bit convenient about all this. She doesn’t directly answer, instead telling him that seeing two of her children so unhappy and suffering made her realize that they both deserved a friend that understood. But seeing as how the two were unlikely to ever met, she may have nudged things so their paths would cross. Mob asks her if that means yes, to which she just laughs and kisses the top of his head, bidding him a goodnight before vanishing once again.

(Sometime later, it occurs to Mob that the spirit wasn’t wearing a white fox mask, but rather a white wolf mask.)

#natsume yuujinchou #natsume's book of friends #mob psycho 100 #story ideas #this is like a half-fic #too detailed to be an outline and too vague to be a full piece #this is best i can manage #im not writing this #someone else do it #this crossover contains a secret third thing #whoever figures it out gets an internet high-five #holy shit this is almost 4k words

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goodlucktai · 3 years ago

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hii u still doing the prompts? ✨🥺 its ok if youre not doing them anymore! ^^

id love 14 foooooor, you guessed it! Natsuyuu ✨ any character u wanna write abt!! (sorry on mobile but let me try to rephrase it)

its a long story

you conned be into thinking u were dead for 11 months, i have time

PROMPTS LIST

14. “It’s a long story.” “You conned me into thinking you were dead for eleven months. I have time.”

Natsume's eyes are bright and angry. His arms are folded across his chest, posture guarded. It's as if Shuuichi is looking back in time, back when Natsume was a skinny, cynical fourteen-year-old who didn't trust him. Who didn't really trust anyone.

It makes Shuuichi wince and just keep wincing. His chest feels as though it's caving in. It's been years since Natsume has looked at him like he's a complete stranger.

And Shuuichi is-- tired. It's too small of a word, but it's the right one. He's weary down to his bones. He could just lay down here and sleep. In the back of his mind, he only wants to close his eyes. Keep them closed. Breathe slowly. Rest.

But Natsume is angry, rightfully angry, and looks as though he's seconds away from storming out the door. And Shuuichi has to-- has to fix it. He has to fix it first.

"Takashi," he says. His voice is gentle. He's approached feral, half-mad creatures with less care than he's approaching this.

Natsume's head jerks, in something like a quickly-aborted shake. His fingers dig into his sleeves. He probably doesn't know how young he looks.

Tanuma was in class when Shuuichi showed up, but a single text from Taki was all it took for him to leave in the middle of a lecture. He'll be here soon, and Taki isn't leaving, and Natsume's face is shuttered.

Shuuichi deserves that.

He's casting around for a starting point, for something to say, for any way to bridge this chasm between them that yawns wider and wider with every second of silence, when Natsume beats him to it.

"Where have you been?" he asks.

"Ah," Shuuichi says haltingly. "It's a long story."

Natsume's eyes flash, like he took lessons in being terrifying from the ugly cat haunting his shoulder.

"You let me think you were dead for eleven months. I have time."

Eleven months.

Shuuichi gives into the want to close his eyes.

He reaches out, unseeing, and Hiiragi fills the place beneath his hand in a heartbeat. She's not warm but she's solid, familiar, and one of the only reasons he's still alive.

His grip would have been bruising, were she human. It feels like he's been awake for years. He's so tired.

"You were on the other side, weren't you?" Madara says suddenly. "You went across the river."

The breath almost audibly goes out of the room. Shuuichi is still standing there like a fool, eyes closed, hand curling and uncurling around Hiiragi's because he needs the reminder of her.

"What are you talking about, sensei?" Natsume asks.

"I can smell it on him," Madara says. "The river. The one all you humans cross someday."

"I'm sorry," Taki says loudly, not at all apologetically, "but what the hell does that mean?"

Madara is talking again, explaining, but Shuuichi isn't following it anymore. His eyes are still closed, so tightly that stars start bursting through the dark.

Eleven months. Almost a year.

A hand lights on his arm, as gently as a bird coming in for a landing. When he pries his eyes open, it's to find Natsume much closer than he was before. His guard down, his heart pried wide open, the way it always is for his friends.

He's warm. Shuuichi hasn't been warm in a long time. Longer than he realized.

"I didn't know it was a year," Shuuichi tells him. It seems like an important thing to tell him. "I tried to get back."

"Okay," Natsume says warily.

It's his turn to approach with care. It's unfair that his anger should have to take the back-burner to whatever this is. He's allowed to be angry-- Shuuichi did what he promised he would never do and fully disappeared from his life.

But Natsume has never been one to cling to anger. He says, "You're back now. So it's okay."

Even now that he's not hugging himself, holding himself together, Natsume still looks laughably young. His hair is falling out of its tail, fringe hanging into his wide green eyes. He's wearing Tanuma's sweater, two sizes too big.

He's Shuuichi's family. One of the two closest things he's ever had to a little brother. One of first things he thinks of when he thinks of home. The touchstone that guided him back, through the dark. Through the water.

Shuuichi can't let go of Hiiragi, but he has two hands. When he lifts his other one, Natsume snatches it like it's an offer that might expire. Wraps both of his hands around Shuuichi's one and holds on tight. Anchors him.

"You're back," Natsume says again, as though one of them still needs convincing. His eyes are glassy. "I'm sorry that you-- that I didn't-- I thought you-- "

"I prefer you shouting at me to whatever this is," Shuuichi croaks, partly because it's true, and partly because it makes Taki bark out a laugh, half-hysterical, and Natsume verbally trip over whatever apology he was trying to scrape together. "Where did that angry face go? It was precious."

"Shut up," Natsume says immediately, a knee-jerk reaction. "How are you like this? Right now?"

The front door opens with a considerable amount of noise, and then there's the telling clatter of Tanuma and his gangly scarecrow self tripping over the umbrella stand, and when he finally comes into the room it's with a sheepish expression and a bag full of takeout.

"You brought him food?" Madara asks skeptically. "For all you knew, he'd been playing dead for the last year. And you thought he deserved free dinner?"

"When a friend comes back from the dead, the least they deserve is free dinner, Ponta," Tanuma says.

He's not as soft-spoken as he was when he was a boy, but his tone is always gentle. He always speaks kindly. He sets the bag down on the table, and smiles at Shuuichi as though it hasn't been a year since they last spoke. Another little sibling. Another anchor. All three of them.

"If he didn't have a reason for being gone, he wouldn't have come back," Tanuma adds. "I knew that much as soon as I got Tooru's text."

"That's because you're a better person than all the rest of us put together," Taki says. She's smiling now, too, the last of the uncertainty and worry leeched away, because Tanuma's presence in a room just does that. Always has.

Natsume hasn't budged. He's still looking at Shuuichi with wide green eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't help you," he says. "I-- we looked for you. But we should have done more. We-- I should have helped you."

He's clearly shaken. Whatever Madara told him about the river, whatever that ugly cat has been saying while Shuuichi's mind drifted in and out of service like a cellphone with shitty reception, it's enough to give him an idea of the kind of place Shuuichi was trapped in.

Shuuichi is too tired to have this argument. He's swaying on his feet. If he doesn't pay attention, his mind makes up monsters, dredges up the memory of dark, rushing water. He can still almost hear it, a fuzzy white noise in the back of his mind. He'll probably always hear it. He went someplace he wasn't supposed to go.

So he holds onto Hiiragi, holds onto Natsume, listens to the sound of conversation and cutlery as Tanuma and Taki set the table. He'll tell them everything tomorrow.

For now, he says, "You did help. You were there."

They all were. All three of them. He never would have made it back across the river without these kids-- without Hiiragi's strong, guiding hands-- without this cramped little kitchen waiting for him at the end of a long, crooked bridge, reminding him of what he could have again if he only kept walking.

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goodlucktai · 4 years ago

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Could I request some good bro Natori and Natsume stuff for prompts 1,2,3, or 5? Either separately or merged into one frankenfic?

PROMPTS LIST

1. “I apologise in advance for the inconvenience my murder is going to have on your life.” +2. “I hate you.” “Why? I’m lovely.” +5. “This is my life now. I have climbed this hill and now I will die upon it.” “Shut up. We’ve only been hiking for twenty minutes.”

When Shuuichi called the Fujiwara house to invite Natsume to the upcoming wrap party, he was braced for the type of dogged, exacting negotiations better suited a hostage situation.

Instead, after a pleasant fifteen-minute conversation with Touko, he was painlessly gifted custody of his friend for the weekend.

“Shigeru-san and I need to meet with one of his relatives about some of Takashi-kun’s missing belongings,” she says, a sliver of steel in her sunny voice that promises, in no uncertain terms, that these relatives will almost certainly have a fight on their hands. “I’d hate to have to bring Takashi-kun along, but I don’t like to leave him here alone, so this is quite the neat solution!”

Natsume is grim and resigned when they meet at the train station, an overnight bag slung over his shoulder, his ugly cat tucked into his arms. Shuuichi can’t help but beam at him, having come out of this arrangement fully on top.

“Shopping!” he announces gleefully. “You’ll need something fancy for the party. And then we’ll get lunch-- my treat, of course. And if you don’t listen to me, Touko-san will be sad!”

If looks could kill, Shuuichi would almost certainly have met his unfortunate end right then and there.

Natsume has been uncomfortable all evening, in a fixed position at Shuuichi’s elbow and nursing the same flute of champagne that was foisted upon him at the door.

He’s in dark-washed jeans and a smart blazer, his hair tucked out of his face with a few strategic hair clips. He toes the line between youthful and stylish well, and his quiet personality comes across as shy instead of standoffish. The cast and crew are all delighted to finally meet the kid Shuuichi talked so much about, and Natsume is doing his best to hold up under all the attention.

So it had taken a bit of blackmail and bribery to get him here-- was that so unusual?

Networking is a necessary evil, and usually Shuuichi is stuck at these functions until the early hours of the morning. But it’s only a couple of hours before Natsume starts to flag. He’s edging into nonverbal territory, only mustering eye contact for a few seconds at a time, and Shuuichi doesn’t waste time in steering him away from the press of the party and into an out-of-the-way office.

“Who’s office is this?” Natsume asks quietly. When Shuuichi presses lightly on his shoulders, he sinks into a leather armchair without fuss.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m famous, I can do whatever I want,” Shuuichi says with a winning smile.

Natsume is recovered enough by then to scowl at him, a knee-jerk reaction.

“I hate you.”

“Why? I’m lovely.”

After that exchange, Shuuichi feels alright about leaving Natsume alone with Hiiragi while he sweeps off to make their excuses, and say his goodbyes, and steal some food for the road.

And now they’re bundled in coats and scarves, making their way back to the hotel. Natsume looks much livelier now that they’re outside, working on the second half of an egg sandwich that Shuuichi smuggled out for him.

“I can’t believe you do that for a living,” the boy murmurs after a moment. “It’s exhausting.”

“You get used to it,” Shuuichi says. “And I’m good at talking.”

Being charming and personable on cue is one of his greatest skills. No closed door, or VIP entrance, or members-only sign has ever kept him out.

When they get back to the hotel, an ugly cat is waiting for them outside. Natsume smiles to see it, his pace quickening, and offers the yokai the last bite of his sandwich.

Madara takes it with a scoff. “This is all you brought me? I want barbecue!”

“What kind of party do you think we were at?” Shuuichi mutters.

“Maybe tomorrow, sensei,” Natsume says agreeably, lifting the cat into his arms.

“Hmph. In that case, I guess I’ll pass the message along.” Settling into a comfortable loaf in the crook of the boy’s arms, the cat squints at them with shining, dark eyes. “Someone came for their name while you were gone.”

Shuuichi stiffens in alarm. They’re hours away from Hitoyoshi, where Natsume’s reputation proceeds him at every turn. To have been tracked this far, despite the wards...

Natsume only looks mildly surprised. “Are they still here?”

“No, they’re waiting for you in the woods,” Madara says. “Human settlements make them nervous.”

Nodding as if this is all perfectly reasonable, Natsume glances at Shuuichi. Shuuichi, waiting for his cue, says, “Absolutely not.”

“Natori,” his friend says, with the same tone of a tired mother attempting to wrangle an unreasonable toddler.

“In what universe would I allow you to wander off into the forest in the middle of the night?” He opts to ignore the rich orange dusk above and around them, and the fact that the streetlights haven’t kicked on yet. Natsume’s eyebrows are inching toward his hairline, so he decides to play his trump card. “Your parents said I’m in charge.”

Hiiragi sighs deeply. It’s only after Shuuichi says it that he realizes how juvenile it sounded, but by then it’s too late. He has to double down.

“Let’s just go inside, and we’ll discuss it over a proper meal,” he says with a smile. He waves Natsume toward the door, but Natsume doesn’t budge.

Shuuichi realizes he used up all his authority earlier, in forcing Natsume to the department stores and restaurants and the wrap party. The boy has played along thus far but he’s clearly reached his quota for the evening. He doesn’t even entertain the idea of listening to Shuuichi this time.

“I’ll be quick,” Natsume says plainly. He turns back the way they came without another word.

Shuuichi struggles with it for a moment, but he really doesn’t have any choice but to follow. It doesn’t help that the ugly cat is laughing at him, or that Hiiragi is judging him silently with every step.

Honestly, if Shuuichi were feeling marginally more generous, he would admit that there was some sort of cosmic justice at work here. He had forced Natsume out of his comfort zone all night, and now the tables have turned entirely.

The trees tower around them as they pick their way up a faint foot trail, stretching up into a dark, endless canopy. The wind combs through branches and leaves in eerie, hushed whispers. They only have the shiki’s night-eyes and the flashlight on Shuuichi’s phone to see by.

“This is my life now,” Shuuichi complains, out of breath. “I climbed this hill and now I’m going to die on it.”

“Shut up,” Natsume replies mildly. “We’ve only been hiking for twenty minutes.”

He certainly seems comfortable here, for all that he’s never been in these particular woods before. With his green eyes and silvery hair and thousand-yard stare, Natsume might as well be a mountain spirit himself sometimes.

The thought cinches painfully in Shuuichi’s stomach, and he speeds up a bit until they’re walking alongside one another.

“How do you know you can trust this spirit?” he asks.

“I don’t,” Natsume says, sounding surprised by the question. “How do you know you can trust any of those humans you work with?”

“Because they’re human.”

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Shuuichi can see his own incomprehension reflected in Natsume’s expression. There’s a sudden chasm open between them, a lack of understanding that goes both ways.

Natsume looks away first. He doesn’t quite hang his head, but he isn’t standing as tall as he was before. Shuuichi remembers, belatedly, just how many humans have hurt Natsume up to this point. He realizes that what he just said was very stupid. And on top of being grossly inconsiderate, he managed to alienate his friend at the same time.

This is what he gets for being so smug all day.

He puts a hand on Natsume’s shoulder, throwing a line across the chasm and hoping it will hold. He squeezes, waiting until Natsume has mustered the courage for eye contact once more, and only when he has the boy’s full attention does he say gravely, “I have a lot to learn from you. I’m only sorry I won’t have the chance. And I apologize for the inconvenience my murder is going to have on your life.”

Natsume splutters, and then laughs, and those sad, clinging shadows peel away from him as easily as a broken spiderweb. “You’re not going to get murdered!”

"Hm,” Shuuichi says, deeply unconvinced (and deeply relieved to hear his friend laughing).

“Honestly, if you’re this worried, why not just wait at the hotel?” Natsume asks. He’s animated again, picking his way ahead confidently. Shuuichi is happy to follow, leaving that painful, aborted conversation behind them for another day.

“Because Touko told me to look after you this weekend,” Shuuichi says mulishly. He’s still clinging to the thin veneer of being in charge, for all the good it’s doing him. “How could I look her in the eye if I let you go charging off into danger?”

“Easily,” Natsume mutters. “Charmingly. And with a bouquet of roses, probably. You said it yourself, you’re good at talking.”

Now it’s Shuuichi’s turn to laugh. He thinks of his conversation with Touko earlier that week-- he thinks of how, even now, she and Shigeru are off getting into a fight with their family for their foster son’s sake, with Natsume none the wiser.

“You’ve sorely underestimated how protective she is of you,” Shuuichi says ruefully. “That’s fine. I’m sure you’ll get to see it firsthand when I take you home, since I’ve made an absolute mess of this weekend so far.”

Natsume tips his head curiously, but whatever he might have said is interrupted as they come around a bend that opens up to a glade.

There’s lantern light up ahead. The glow is unnatural, slightly off-color, and the lights sway even though there isn’t a steady wind. Hiiragi goes tense and alert at Shuuichi’s shoulder, and Shuuichi himself feels a cold thrill of anticipation, his fight-or-flight reflexes primed. But Natsume lets out a little huff of relief, and Madara says, “Finally!” as a rabbit spirit steps onto the path to greet them.

It’s about as tall as Shuuichi’s waist and dressed in a neat yellow yukata. It greets them politely, and apologizes for making them go out of their way, and invites them into the glade. Madara jumps out of Natsume’s arms to lead the way, and Hiiragi follows distrustfully, but Natsume lingers for a moment.

“What if Touko hadn’t said anything?” he asks, in the tone of someone testing a theory.

For all of about three seconds, Shuuichi considers lying to preserve his dignity, but he gives it up for a lost cause. He sighs, and musses his hair up even more, and admits, “I’d still be here.”

Natsume might as well be a mountain spirit himself sometimes. But then there are times like these, when his face lights up like a summer sky, and he smiles as though he’s never been hurt, and Shuuichi has never met anyone more human than him.

#natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #natori shuuichi #natsume takashi #nyanko sensei #my writing #prompt #natsumiyasblog #natsuyuu fic #this one got away from me lemme tell ya

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goodlucktai · 5 years ago

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In the mood for natsume protection squad so would it be possible to get something like natori somehow gets an s/o and they think it’s a good idea to criticize or make fun of natsume (out of ignorance or malice idk) and natori just... basically dumps them on the spot (bonus points for nyanko-sensei looking on approvingly)

Shuuichi’s publicist is getting braver by the day. Locking him out of his own phone and refusing to give it back until he agreed to her terms was a stroke of brilliance, and when he stops being annoyed about it, Shuuichi will tell her so.

“You do pretty things on camera, I keep you popular,” Haya says in a severe tone, holding his phone away from him at arms length. “You are going to go on a nice lunch date with your costar, and you’re going to smile for the paps, and it probably won’t kill you to act like you’re having a good time.”

Shuuichi gets it. The resulting interview will make for a nice TV spot, guaranteed to stir up more interest in the upcoming movie. But–

“I’m expecting company today.” He gives her his most apologetic smile. “I’ve had this afternoon free on the schedule for weeks. We’ll have to work something else out.”

“No need!” Haya says brightly. “If you leave right now, you’ll return just in time to greet them. I already have a car waiting outside.”

Oh, she is good. Shuuichi can hardly believe this is the same wide-eyed, stammering creature he first met two years ago.

“Fine,” he snaps. The PA who was approaching cautiously with his coat stops dead at his tone, and Shuuichi rearranges his scowl into an easy smile. “Of course. Thank you for your hard work.”

His cheerful tone promises retribution. Haya eyes him warily as he puts a hand out, and places his phone in his palm with the exacting precision of someone mincing around a landmine.

The date is fine. Seijun smiles prettily when he joins her at a corner table in a nearby bistro and pretends not to notice the cameras outside. They both know why they’re actually there together, and they don’t have terribly much in common, but they’ve filmed together for the last two months. That’s enough material for an hour of decent conversation, and if Seijun’s eyes linger on his hands, or if she leans in a bit more than necessary to share a piece of gossip, it’s easy for Shuuichi to ignore.

Entertainment tabloids like to speculate on why he’s single; a rich, successful actor who’s built a successful career out of romance films ought to have an easy time of finding a date. There are internet forums and blogs dedicated to the discussion. Fans he’s met clamor that Natori Shuuichi is a gentleman, he just hasn’t met the right person yet; critics have their own unflattering theories, that start somewhere around a secret addiction and spiral out into dangerous ties to the yakuza.

It’s true that Shuuichi likes to flirt, and he likes to act the gentleman, and he likes that he can control the tide of conversation or the focus of a room with charisma and a handsome smile. Shuuichi can hold someone in front of a camera, can kiss someone if it’s in a script, and he can make it look so moving that the audience is moved to tears.

But romance is an act, and the concept of investing in it honestly makes his stomach turn.

It doesn’t make sense not to ride back to the studio together. Seijun keeps Shuuichi’s hand for a moment too long when he helps her out of the car, and he smiles through it without missing a beat, because that’s just the job sometimes.

And then Hiiragi touches his shoulder, and Shuuichi glances up in time to see a group of high school students come around the corner, laughing with a friendly PA only slightly older than they are who must have been conned into giving them a tour.

Nishimura and Taki are in the lead, all but bouncing on their feet and talking over one another in their enthusiasm. Nishimura turns around to walk backwards for a few steps, saying something to Natsume that makes him roll his eyes. Tanuma is holding Madara in his ugly cat form, and Kitamoto and Adachi are trailing alongside him at the end of the group; three boys and a spirit cat who all look as though they’d rather be anywhere else.

Shuuichi feels himself grin. Next to him, Seijun makes a quiet sound of unpleasant surprise.

“I know that boy,” she says, smoothing out her perfect blouse. “The odd one.”

It’s the worst descriptor in the world. At a casual glance, there’s nothing odd about any of them. Tanuma is rather tall for his age, and Nishimura is energetic, and Adachi’s buzzed head only takes Shuuichi aback because his hair had been bleached blond and long enough for a ponytail the last time Shuuichi had seen him, but those things don’t exactly jump out. They’re a perfectly ordinary-looking group of teenagers.

Somehow, regardless, Shuuichi knows she’s talking about Natsume.

“He’s a distant cousin, I think,” Seijun says, leaning in unnecessarily, the way she did at the restaurant. “He stayed with my mother and I for about a month once, back when he was in grade school. You wouldn’t believe how strange he is.”

Shuuichi hasn’t been spotted yet. He offers Seijun a smile, doesn’t move closer but orients his body language to give her the illusion of his full attention.

“Tell me,” he says, in the tone of a co-conspirator.

She does. She spares no details. Actors are horrible gossips, it comes with the territory, and this story is one she must have told a dozen times before, at little coffee dates and family events.

Hiiragi’s mask is pointed towards Seijun, the shiki’s stillness giving nothing away, but Shuuichi thinks he knows her pretty well. He thinks she’s as angry as he is, watching Seijun laugh at the peculiar mannerisms of a child who was already a vagrant at nine years old, homeless and often afraid and terribly alone.

And then the PA catches sight of Shuuichi, and says something to the kids that make them glance in his direction. Their faces light up, and they wave and call hello, and Natsume gets shoved and jostled to the front of the group, obviously appointed the famous actor liaison.

His step falters when he recognizes Shuuichi’s companion. He seems to get smaller, his eyes dropping to a safer middle ground. Seijun looks as though she has no idea what to do with his unexpected company.

Shuuichi smiles through it, because that’s the job sometimes. He balls up his anger into something small and tight and holds it in a fist where it can’t get away.

“Natsume, it’s so good to see you!” he says gladly, taking the boy by the shoulders and giving him a playful shake. “Sorry I was late to greet you, and after I finally got you to agree to come visit me. PR can be such a hassle, so I had to endure a lunch together with my coworker here this afternoon. I suppose it was fitting,” Shuuichi goes on, glancing brightly at Seijun, “since I probably won’t be seeing very much of her anymore. We filmed our final scene together just yesterday, so there’s no real reason to keep her around, is there?”

Seijun’s eyes are wide in a pale face. She doesn’t say a word, but bows quickly and makes a quick escape. Humiliated, probably. Good.

“That wasn’t very kind of you,” Natsume says quietly.

“No, it wasn’t,” Shuuichi replies. His expression warms into something real, and he puts a hand on Natsume’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Help me plot revenge for my publicist instead. I might ask Urihime to haunt her for a few days, what do you think?”

“What? That’s a horrible idea. Whatever she did to you, you probably deserved it. Leave her alone.”

But he’s smiling again by the time his friends catch up, and really, that was the whole point

#natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #natori shuuichi #natsume takashi #my writing #prompt #anonymous #natsuyuu fic #tbh my natori is aro/ace ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#i havent written his pov in an age i need to get back into the swing of things

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goodlucktai · 7 years ago

Note

Nishinatsu 25+21??

two-part drabble game25: being somewhere you’re not supposed to be+ 21: “they’re wrong about you.”

i got 2 requests for nishinatsu + 21, you guys know me so well (ꈍ◡ꈍ)♡

Somehow, they got off on the wrong station. Kitamoto’s voice is loud where it’s coming out of Nishimura’s cellphone on speaker – not quite frantic but certainly agitated, because it’s late and it’s getting dark, and Nishimura and Takashi are more than a little lost.

“Just,” their friend says, “find someplace and stay there, okay? Like, an internet cafe or something. We’ll get off at the next station and double back.”

“Tell him we’re sorry,” Takashi puts in quickly, anxious at how upset they’ve made him. Nishimura just rolls his eyes.

“It was an accident,” he says instead, with deliberate enunciation, like it’ll change Kitamoto’s perspective to hear that excuse for the fourth time. “Jeez, Acchan, lighten up.”

Before Kitamoto can reply to that the way Takashi can guess he would like to, Tanuma takes over from the other end and says, “Natsume, you left Ponta,” like the fat cat is a shield or a talisman he wandered off into certain danger without. Despite himself, the note of worry in his friend’s voice over so small a thing makes Takashi smile.

“Keep an eye on him for me,” he leans in to say, and he doesn’t know if he’s talking to Tanuma about Nyanko-sensei or perhaps the other way around. “I’ll see you soon.”

It isn’t unsettling to be out in the dark. Takashi has spent a lot of nights by himself in parks or the woods or just walking through empty streets, and it’s never really bothered him. There are just as many monsters around when the sun is out, after all, that’s something he knew as a child.

So when they pass under a flickering streetlight, and the shadows jump and stretch like a living thing, and Nishimura shivers a little and presses into his side, Takashi just smiles.

“Cute,” he says mildly, purely for the sake of Nishimura’s deeply offended squawk, and the way he blushes so hard it’s easy to see even in the low light. And then Takashi can’t help laughing at him, and that only makes it worse.

“You’re a jerk,” Nishimura mutters, not nearly as annoyed as he would like Takashi to believe. “Hold my hand, you jerk.”

So they head down the street hand-in-hand, and Nishimura jumps at every innocuous nighttime noise, and Takashi is still smiling as they round the corner and almost walk headlong into a couple of strangers.

“Oh, sorry,” he says automatically, and the man lifts his head from where it was buried in his phone and –

Oh. Not strangers. Takashi goes tense before he can help it, staring up into a pair of faces that haunted him for months after he left their care. His breath stutters.

“S- “ He swallows and tries again. “Sorry. We’ll just – “

“I don’t believe it,” the woman says, sounding surprised in an unpleasant way. She’s a cousin, he thinks. Her name was – Kotone? He can’t remember, she didn’t like when he called her by her name. What was he supposed to call her instead? Obasan?

He’s floundering. His chest hurts.

“What the hell are you doing back here?” her husband says. Kenta, and his voice is – a nightmare, given shape and sound, and Takashi ducks his head before he can think better of it.

The years fall away and fall away and he’s seven years old again, small and scared under their cold eyes. The air between them is tense, and they seem to be waiting for an answer from him, so he says, “We got lost.”

“Of course you did,” Kotone says, world-weary. “You never change, do you? Good for nothing kid.”

Takashi stares, unseeing, at the pavement beneath his feet.

He’s lived in Hitoyoshi for two years now, has found a loving family, made friends with wonderful people, cultivated the kind of reckless courage he needed to ask Nishimura out on their first date nearly six months ago. He has more now than he ever has. His days are warm and sunny and infinitely precious, like pages torn out of some fairy tale book.

But he still has nightmares.

Sometimes he dreams that he never left those dark places that plagued him as a child. Sometimes he dreams he’s still with Kenta and Kotone, that he still has to wear long sleeves to school and go to bed hungry, that he stays out long after the street lights come on and plays with stray cats in empty parks until a concerned passerby makes him go home. Sometimes he dreams Shigeru and Touko don’t want him anymore, or can’t keep him anymore, and he goes back to that cold house because no one else will take him, and he loses all the wonderful things he has now.

And yet – despite how many bad dreams he’s had that started this way, despite all the variations of this same scenario that he’s envisioned in his lowest moments – this one is almost immediately something new.

Because Nishimura is jolting a step forward and his expression is so angry it takes Takashi’s breath away. It cuts through the dark cloud of noxious fear in Takashi’s brain like a bolt of white lightning.

“What did you say?” Nishimura demands, his voice too loud in the still of the night. They’re in a residential neighborhood, all but standing in front of someone’s home, and Takashi knows what it sounds like when he’s only going to get louder. “Good for nothing?”

It’s like they didn’t notice him beside Takashi until he spoke up, because Kotone and Kenta both shoot him startled looks.

“Hey, tone it down – “ Kenta starts, eyebrows furrowing, but Nishimura is having none of it.

He was terrified of every dark corner a moment ago, but he’s fearless now, standing between Takashi and two of Takashi’s biggest fears like it’s the only place he belongs.

“Say it again,” he says, scowling up at them. He never let go of Takashi’s hand, and his grip is so hard it almost hurts. Speechless, Takashi holds on just as tight, like he might fall if he lets go. “Go ahead. I wanna hear everything you have to say about Natsume, so start from the beginning. How old was he when you knew him? Ten? Eight?”

Something uncomfortable is settling on their faces now, and Kotone glances over her shoulder, as if expecting a judgmental neighbor to be watching the altercation from a row of hedges.

“Tell me,” Nishimura goes on, heated and fierce, too loud, all but filling the empty street. “Tell me what he did that was so terrible. Tell me what he did that made you hate him.”

“That’s enough,” Kenta says, sharp, trying to wrestle back control of this rapidly spiraling conversation. “Didn’t anyone teach you to respect your elders?”

“Nope,” Nishimura says with mean glee. “My big brother only taught me to respect my betters. Tough luck.”

Takashi stops breathing. Even Kotone’s face goes slack with shock at this russet-haired slip of a boy’s daring. Kenta’s mouth twists into an ugly frown, but at about that time a light goes on in the house nearest them. Kotone grabs Kenta’s arm, her desire to leave transparent.

Heart in his throat, Takashi tugs Nishimura back and away from them as they shove their way past. “Go back to wherever you came from,” Kenta spits out, and then he and his wife are gone.

Nishimura is trembling in the circle of Takashi’s arm. Takashi thinks he’ll have bruises on his hand tomorrow, an imprint of this moment, of how hard Nishimura held onto him. When he risks a glance at his boyfriend, he’s startled to find tears in Nishimura’s eyes.

“They’re wrong about you,” he says, and his voice breaks. The brightest thing in Takashi’s whole life, and he’s crying, pressing the heel of his free hand into his eyes, like he can push back the wetness there if he digs in hard enough. “Natsume,” he sobs, helplessly angry, and Takashi pulls him in as close as he can.

Shaken, but for a different reason than he might have been otherwise.

“You’re – impossible,” he barely manages, wide-eyed and wondering. “I can’t believe you.”

The gate behind them opens with a whine, and a middle-aged woman leans out with a look of concern on her face. She glances behind them sharply, and back again, and says, “Are you boys okay? I heard shouting. Was someone giving you trouble?”

“They’re gone,” Takashi tells her. A few more reassurances send her reluctantly back inside, and Takashi can focus on the task at hand. He rubs his hands up and down Nishimura’s back, trying to coax him back. “Right, Nishimura? They’re gone, we’re okay.”

“Don’t comfort me,” Nishimura snaps wetly, rubbing harder at his face with his sleeve. “I’m – I should be – that’s my job.”

It should be impossible after what just happened – and if someone asked Takashi ten years ago, he would have told them so – but somehow, despite himself, Takashi laughs. It starts shaky, but it finds its feet as it goes, and it leaves him smiling.

When Kitamoto and Tanuma find them an hour later, seated outside at a late-night cafe with a bubble tea and a plate of soft cream buns split between them, Nishimura’s eyes are still puffy and red-rimmed, but they’re watching a video on his phone that has them leaning on each other in their laughter, so their friends roll their eyes and assume the sorry state they’re in is their own fault.

And if Nishimura holds onto him a little tighter than usual on their way back home, it’s not so strange. Everyone knows that Nishimura is afraid of the dark, and that Takashi is indulgent enough to hold his hand.

#TFW U TRY TO WRITE SOMETHING LIGHTHEARTED AND IT TURNS INTO AN ANGST TRAIN RIP ME #natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #my writing #nishinatsu #nishimura satoru #natsume takashi #prompt #anonymous #natsuyuu fic

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goodlucktai · 8 years ago

Text

i think i see the future

@natsumeweek 2017 Day 5; Ten years later

pairing: nishinatsu

and this is the end! you can read the previous chapters on tumblr here or on ao3. (the rest of them can kind of stand alone, but this one refers back to the previous chapter pretty heavily so i would read that one first ;;;)

“I'll see you again on Monday,” Satoru promises, meaning it. The boy clinging to his knee looks up at him with solemn brown eyes that peek wide and lamplike out of a round face. “Hey, don't look at me like that. It's only three days away.”

Words notwithstanding, Satoru crouches and offers one last hug. Susumu lunges for him, attaching to his chest like a limpet, small hands folding into fists in the back of his shirt.

The tiny body in his arms doesn't tremble at a touch anymore, has stopped flinching at every sudden movement, and it only took seven long months and two different foster homes to get to this point.

Satoru is Susumu's third social worker, assigned after the first two washed their hands of him. Susumu is the twenty-sixth or so child to land in a heap of files on Satoru's desk, and quite possibly the most endearing little person Satoru has ever met.

“You're such a good kid,” he says, so full of fierce affection he might come apart at the seams with it. “There's a place for you somewhere, and I'm gonna find it.”

The woman fostering Susumu steps out to take his hand and draw him back into the house, and Satoru tries not to feel bereft as they go.

“See you Monday,” Susumu calls softly over his shoulder, more of a plea than a reminder.

“You're not supposed to get attached,” Satoru reminds himself sternly, for the one millionth time, on his way back to the car. “You're never supposed to get attached.”

It gets harder and harder to leave every day.

When he was in high school, near the very end of his third year, Satoru saw something unbelievable. He saw rain fall around Natsume without touching him, in a clean, wide dome of dry air.

“I can explain it,” Natsume said fearfully. White-faced and trembling, he took a single step forward, begging, “Please.”

And Satoru shook his head.

“No,” he said firmly, even though his voice came out hardly louder than the drumming rain. His hands shook, and he couldn't look Natsume in the face. “I don't want to hear it.”

“Nishimura,” was Natsume's stricken reply, and Satoru clapped his hands over his ears.

“I don't want to hear it!” he all but shouted, eyes screwed so tightly shut that he started seeing stars in the dark. “You're gonna make up a story, aren't you? You're gonna make this go away. Don't do that.”

Silence sat between them, heavy and full. Satoru couldn't risk opening his eyes yet. Didn't dare lower his hands.

“You can keep all the secrets you want,” he said. His voice was too loud. Each word broke free like a gunshot. “Just be honest when you talk to me.”

Because it was too much to be lied to now, when he carried around so much care for this boy. He'd rather be kept in the dark, would rather walk a wide circle around this subject forever, would rather never truly understand what just happened than be lied to.

“And if you can't be honest yet,” Satoru went on, hating how soft and shaky he sounded, “then I can wait.”

Satoru sheds shoes and coat and bookbag at the door and leaves them where they fall, dead on his feet almost as soon as the cool, comfortable air of his apartment wraps its fingers around him. He wanders down the hall, nudges open the bedroom door, and falls into his bed with his eyes closed already.

The curtains at the window are drawn, but the sun is setting so the light is low, and the room is painted in rich red and orange. The bed behind him shifts and fingers settle in his hair.

“Tsuji called six times since you've been gone,” Takashi murmurs sleepily.

“Of course he did.”

“Kitamoto called eight times. I unplugged the phone.”

Satoru grins into his pillow. “They probably think we're gonna try to weasel out of coming to visit this weekend.”

“We promised we'd be there,” Takashi says primly, as though he's not the absolute worse when it comes to avoiding any social interaction at any cost. Satoru rolls his eyes, and then rolls over to look at him, and Takashi blinks when it puts them neatly nose-to-nose.

“We gotta be back by Monday, though,” Satoru says sternly. “I have an important meeting.”

The corners of Takashi's mouth quirk with the beginnings of a knowing smile, but he only nods solemnly and says, “Of course.”

He's golden and beautiful in the dying sunlight. Sometimes Satoru can hardly believe he's his.

“You can wait?” Natsume repeated slowly, sounding a little odd for reasons Satoru didn't have the mental capacity to guess at at the time.

He nodded, still holding his hands over his ears, still squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yeah. Forever, probably. So if you can't ever talk to me about this, that's fine, I guess. That's okay. You're off the hook. I'll still wait.”

Satoru lost the sound of Natsume’s footsteps to the rain, and jumped at the cold fingers that suddenly curled around his hands. His eyes shot open, and Natsume was half an arm's length away without any warning, staring at Satoru like Satoru was something totally impossible.

“Why?” It came out so urgent and so clear, it hardly felt like a question. Natsume looked equal parts stupefied and stubborn, like he’d weather a storm to get his answer.

“Because I want to,” Satoru said, trying to summon frustration to stand in the way of this aching sadness. The effect of his scowl was probably ruined somewhat by the wet fringe dripping into his eyes, but he scowled anyway. “I want to do everything with you. I want to go to a stupid college with you and live in a stupid apartment with you and pay stupid bills with you and keep a million stupid secrets with you, because I like you, and that's what stupid people do with the stupid people they like!”

Natsume's grip on Satoru's hands tightened. His mouth trembled. But his eyes were blazing with something tiptoeing the line between disbelief and wonder, and the words that tumbled out of his mouth were a soft, certain, endlessly hopeful, “I like you, too.”

And the very careful way he smiled at him was the same way he always smiled at him, with that warm indulgence and that warm affection that made their classmates roll their eyes, that made their friends trade knowing looks with each other, that made Satoru flush and preen like a cat in a patch of sunshine.

Oh, Satoru thought.

Oh.

“I’m an idiot,” he realized.

“Me too,” Natsume said fairly.

“I wasn't gonna tell you,” Satoru said, sounding weak to his own ears. He was too stunned to do more than stare as Natsume closed that last step between them.

“You would have figured something out,” Natsume said, with a faith in him that felt totally unfair.

“You brats are gonna miss your bus,” Nyanko-sensei said grumpily from somewhere behind them. It was much easier to ignore a talking cat than Satoru would have guessed, and he did exactly that.

Because Natsume's arms were around Satoru's waist and his face was tucked neatly into Satoru's shoulder, and he only pressed closer when Satoru dared to press his lips against his hair. And it was the best thing ever, even with as cold and wet as the whole situation was, and Satoru probably could have happily ignored the entire literal end of the world just then.

After a few moments, though, the rain above them stopped even while the rain around them continued to pour in heavy sheets, and Natsume looked up at something Satoru couldn't see.

Quietly brave, he said, “She likes you.”

And Satoru clutched him that much tighter, trying to remember how to speak through such a surge of unrelenting, remarkable joy.

“Tell her I said thanks,” he managed to say, and he meant it.

A decade later, the year Satoru turns twenty-seven, it's on a similarly rainy afternoon that he signs the last of a truly intimidating stack of legal forms.

“Thank you, Natsume-san,” the woman across the desk from him says with a smile. “That should do it.”

And when he goes home, it's to find Susumu curled up around Nyanko-sensei on the couch, the credits of a cartoon movie rolling across the television screen. Takashi is flipping through takeout menus at the kitchen counter, long hair pulled up out of his face.

For the last two years Susumu has insisted on growing his dark hair out to match. It's currently a fluffy mess around his head while he sleeps, and it's going to be a royal pain to brush out again later. It's adorable.

Takashi looks up as Satoru steps inside, and straightens. The restless tapping of his fingers is the only thing that gives away his nerves. “How'd it go?”

“The name change finally went through,” Satoru says, beaming, as he flops a folder full of proof on the counter. “He's gonna go bouncing off the walls when we tell him.”

Takashi smiles back, more of a knee-jerk reaction than anything else, and then eyes the folder warily.

“You know there are ugly connotations to it, don't you?” Takashi says for the seven millionth time, give or take. “We'd have been much better off taking your name, Satoru. Mine is dangerous.”

“Sure it is,” Satoru says agreeably, propping his elbow on the counter and his chin in his hand. “But we want it anyway. ‘Cause we love you, and we’re proud to be your family.”

Takashi colors and glances away quickly.

“You're hopeless,” he mutters, trying to look irritated.

“Yeah,” Satoru says, totally at peace with the fact, “I really am.”

#natsumeweek #natsuyuu fic #natsuyuu #nishinatsu #nishimura satoru #natsume takashi #my writing #never mind the bus fare #hello my name is self indulgent fluff for the writers soul #natsume yuujinchou

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goodlucktai · 8 years ago

Note

I know you're swamped with prompt requests but please hear me out!! What if it hadn't been Taki and Tanuma that had passed by when Natsume was de-aged, but Nishimura and Kitamoto instead?? Thanks for taking the time to read this, I love your work!!

i had a bunch of people ask for a young!natsume fic ;v ; hopefully just this one is sufficient! i have a lot of requests to work through ladgldgh

Taki forgets the cupcakes. Tanuma says, “Natsume won’t mind if we’re a few minutes late,” and they double back to her house to retrieve them.

When the Days Eater has gone, and Nyanko is left with a pint-sized Natsume where the proper one should have been, Taki and Tanuma aren’t there to intervene and the child slips away from the unfamiliar tanuki yokai, moving as silently and certainly as a little ghost.

Natsume is fairly certain he’s lost, and fairly certain he hasn’t been missed. But he wouldn’t want to cause the family he’s staying with any trouble – not sooner than he can help, at least. So he’ll follow the road into town, and figure things out from there.

He can’t go far before he has to stop and roll the legs of his pants up. They keep slipping down so he cinches the belt tighter, and loses the long socks completely. The grass feels good under his feet anyway, sun-warm and springy. He’s surrounded by fields that seem to sprawl forever. He doesn’t know where he is, but it seems calm and welcoming. It seems nice.

“–told you, look at him! He looks just like Natsume! Right down to the thousand yard stare.”

Natsume jumps, whirling around and loosing his footing as he does. He lands with an oof and looks up to find himself face to face with an older boy. A high school student, maybe. There’s two of them, but only one is at his eye level, crouching in the road with an expression of wonder.

“Kitamoto, seriously, are you seeing this? Hey kid, what’s your name?”

He’s shrinking from them automatically – bigger bodies and bigger numbers usually don’t mean anything good for him, and he doesn’t want to go home with bruises on top of everything else he’s put his current family through – but there’s no real fear in his heart of these older boys, none at all.

That’s… surprising.

So he says, softly, “Natsume.” And blinks when the boy in front of him grins, like his name was the right answer.

“I knew it! Natsume never told us he had a little cousin. Your family must have super genes or something, ‘cause the resemblance is scary.”

“Do you hear yourself when you talk, Nishimura? You’re freaking him out.” The other boy – Kitamoto – yanks Nishimura back by the hood of his sweatshirt so he topples backwards, but not in the mean way Natsume’s classmates do. Nishimura squawks in outrage and scrambles for a second like a stag beetle tipped on its back, and Kitamoto offers Natsume a hand with a warm smile. “C’mon, you’ll catch cold out here. What are you doing, running around without shoes on?”

“You’re not his mom, Acchan. He might look like Natsume, but there’s no way he gets sick as easily as him. No one gets sick as easily as him.“

Natsume takes Kitamoto’s hand tentatively, and the high schooler doesn’t hold it too tight or pull too hard; just brings him up to his feet with a friendly yank, and then tousles his hair a bit.

“You – you know my,” he swallows hard, and says, “Natsume? You know him?”

“Well, sure,” Nishimura says, dusting himself off. “We’re his buddies. He’s in my class, too.”

The tanuki yokai said the same thing, sort of. About being a high school student, and living in this area with people called the Fujiwaras. And he doesn’t think these people are lying to him. They’re too warm and lively to be monsters, the human or the spirit kind. They’re smiling at him nicely.

He likes them.

By the time Nyanko finds them, a few minutes later, he has two more older kids in tow, a dark-haired boy and a fair-haired girl. They all look equally disheveled and a little pale – even the tanuki, through all his fur. Natsume presses behind Kitamoto, folding fingers into the fabric of his jacket, and feels a hand settle on his head.

“Don’t worry, mini Natsume,” Nishimura says with a wide grin. He’s crouched down again, so Natsume doesn’t have to tilt his head back to look up at him. “They’re some of Natsume’s friends. Ours, too! Real good ones. Oh, and they have his ugly cat with them, of course they do.”

Kind people have kind friends. Natsume’s pretty sure that’s something he knows. So he steps out from behind Kitamoto, but keeps a hand clenched around the hem of his jacket, and feels a little bit better when Nishimura drops a friendly hand on his head.

The two new people seem nice, he thinks. They look really worried, but they also look relieved to see him, and with a guilty pang he wonders if maybe he had been missed by someone in this place, after all.

“Sorry,” he says without thinking, once introductions have been made. He can’t bring himself to talk very loud, but they all fall quiet around him anyway. The attention is nearly too much. He wants to hide behind Kitamoto again. “For – for being lost.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Tanuma says. He stoops to talk to Natsume, too, the way Nishimura did. “We were afraid something happened to you, that’s all. I’m glad these two found you when they did.”

“Come to think of it,” Nishimura says brightly, in a tone that promises trouble. “It’s kinda weird Natsume didn’t tell us he’d have a little doppleganger running around town this weekend. Just seems like something he’d mention.”

“On top of that, he told us he doesn’t have any close relatives,” Kitamoto adds, with steely resolve in his voice. “That’s why he moved to this town in the first place. He wouldn’t lie about something like that, not to us.”

Wherever this place is, Natsume thinks, awed, it would have been nice to live here all along. Whatever he did to earn friends like these, he wishes he could have done it sooner.

Tanuma is rubbing a hand through his hair awkwardly, and Natsume missed the excuse he came up with but it must have been a weak one, because Kitamoto and Nishimura aren’t buying it.

“No way,” Nishimura says vehemently, “I know that look in your eye, Tanuma. That’s the Natsume Look. The last time you looked like that was the other day, when he totally zoned out and nearly walked straight into traffic.”

“Same look,” Kitamoto agrees, face folded into a scowl. “You only come running like that when it’s for him, so explain why you came running like that for a grade schooler who looks just like him.”

“And before you try it, I know it’s not his brother,” Nishimura adds with certainty. “He doesn’t have one.”

Natsume shuffles back a step, heart racing. He doesn’t like arguments, they always lead into fights. He doesn’t want to cause trouble – honestly, despite everything, he really doesn’t.

They don’t think he’s a liar yet, and he doesn’t want to change their minds, but he doesn’t want these friends to fight. This place and these people are good, and he doesn’t want to be what makes that good go away.

“Um,” he says, faltering under the weight of five stares. “Um, maybe – it would be okay to tell them.”

His heart thumps painfully in his chest as he says it, because he’s been here before and it never goes right. But a sudden touch has Natsume looking down, and he’s surprised to find the tanuki – the cat yokai leaning its considerable weight in a companionable way against his leg. It’s purring, dark eyes glinting something close to green in the sun, and even without speaking it seems to be giving Natsume a nudge.

It’s familiar, he realizes. He knows what that grinning face is trying to tell him. He pets it carefully, a little dazed, and tries to remember a time anyone else has ever said to him “I’m right behind you.” He can’t.

“Okay,” he whispers.

It pushes out of his hand with a huff, shaking out its fur, and then says grumpily, “Alright, brats, you heard him. Let’s just air this out right now.”

Nishimura and Kitamoto both spring away with a yelp, and Kitamoto plucks Natsume right off the ground, holding him up and away from the talking calico. Everything is dead silent for a handful of seconds that feels like an hour. The gentle breeze is the loudest thing in the world as it rustles through the trees lining the road.

Tanuma buries his face in both hands, and Taki says, “Nyanko-sensei! You know better!”

“We weren’t solving anything just standing around, were we! And besides, these idiots may be thick but they’re not thick enough to buy whatever cover story the priest’s brat puts together.”

“A cat just called me an idiot,” Nishimura whispers. Natsume dangles in Kitamoto’s arms, trying to wrap his mind around the novel concept of another human protecting him from a harmless yokai. That might have been the most ridiculous thing to happen so far today, and Natsume muffles his mouth behind both hands and laughs.

The bickering cuts off as abruptly as it started, and Natsume is lowered slowly to the ground. He’s still grinning a little bit when he stops giggling – he can’t help it! “I wish I met you sooner, Nyanko-sensei,” he says, stretching his hands out for the cat. “It would have been a lot easier to make people believe me if I had you around.”

The cat waddles over agreeably, giving Tanuma a smug look from the circle of Natsume’s arms, and Natsume glances up when Nishimura tentatively draws closer.

“So, call me crazy,” he says, with a nervous smile, “but I think I’d know that laugh anywhere. What have you got yourself into this time, Natsume?”

Kind people have kind friends. For the life of him, Natsume doesn’t know what it took for someone like him to get close to people like this, but he’ll do it again – over and over, forever, if that’s what it takes to keep them.

He hugs Nyanko-sensei close, and smiles up at the older boy he doesn’t know, who knows him so well.

“A monster made me little again,” he says. “Will you help me?”

#natsuyuu fic #natsuyuu #natsume takashi #nishimura satoru #kitamoto atsushi #my writing #prompt #anonymous #trying to get back in the swing of things pls bear with me :')#natsume yuujinchou

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goodlucktai · 8 years ago

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Are you still taking requests for your Natsume Yuujinchou stories/fics? : Ok ok so how about, Natsume and his friends go to a city close to the town and suddenly Natsume meets one of the people that took (horribly) care of him and he reeks of alcohol and suddenly starts a fuss with Natsume and Natsume gets scared that his friends will get hurt but everyone starts to protect this angel or smth while my boi is scared stiff and- OH MY GOD MY HEART-

They’releaving the karaoke bar as a group, headed further into the cityinstead of back towards the station, because Nishimura has his heartset on oden, and there’s a stall just a few blocks away that was putthere by either an angel or a god or a mortal saint, even – totallyworththe trip, they hadtotrust him on this one. Hisfriends roll their eyes and share commiserating looks, but Natsume issmiling indulgently at him, and Tanuma and Taki would follow Natsumeoff the edge of the planet if he expressed a mild interest in goingthat way, and that gives Nishimura the majority vote right off thebat.

Hesmirks victoriously at Kitamoto the rest of the way there, and onlyalmost trips twice.

Thestall is set up along the riverside railing in a relatively quietarea, and the smell hits them even before the lights come into viewthrough the thin crowd. “Oh, you were right,” Taki says, herbright grin doing something complicated and fizzy to Nishimura’sheart. “It smells amazing.”

Aman ducks the curtain, stepping out of the stall – his steps are alittle wobbly, and he smells strongly of alcohol. Nishimura wrinkleshis nose and moves around him, hearing his friends follow suit, andsmiles at the familiar old man behind the counter.

Heopens his mouth around a greeting, but Tanuma says “Natsume?”behind him in a way that makes the world stop.

Theirquiet friend is fallen behind, several paces up the sidewalk andtalking to the drunken man who had passed by them. Only it’s wrong,right away – the whole scene is wrong, the ashen pallor ofNatsume’s face, and the frozen, frightened way he’s standing, like arabbit sighted by a hungry fox. His arms are curled in front of him,and without his cat, it looks more like he’s hugging pieces ofhimself together than it rightly should.

Tanumais already headed towards him. Taki is barely a step behind. They’removing with such furious intent that it’s obvious they’ve got abetter idea what’s going on – Kitamoto is frowning, dark eyesnarrowed as he tries to put it together, but Nishimura isn’t thatworried about the whos and the whys. He hurries after the other two,heart in his throat.

Natsumeshouldn’t look like that, not ever.

“ – littlemonster,” the man is snarling darkly, weaving on his feet.His words slur, but only barely. “You nearly cost me everything.There was an investigation after they took you away, and I almostlost my kid because of you.”

Takibreaks into a run at that point, and all but slams into Natsume’sside. She tucks her arm into his, hugging close to him, and staresresolutely at the man as though she’s stared down monsters five timeshis size before. Tanuma is taller than him by an inch or two, andsquares broad shoulders as he steps neatly into the middle of theconfrontation.

“Ithink you should leave,” he says, on the frigid side of too polite.“Or I’ll ask my friends to call the police.”

Nishimurafeels Kitamoto beside him, a calm and steadfast presence thathas always been beside him. He promptly holds his cellphone up whenthe man looks their way. “In a heartbeat, man.”

Theman’s eyes burn with something uncomfortably close to hatred as theycut back to Natsume for a split second; but Taki meets him glare forglare and Tanuma shifts just so, blocking his line of sight, and addsunkindly, “Now.”

Theman takes his advice and turns on his heel, leaving with one last,ugly look over his shoulder. Nishimura forgets about him the momenthe’s gone, rushing instead to close the distance left behind him and his verypale, very quiet friend.

“I’mso sorry,” Natsume says right away, covering his face in one hand.Hiding away the parts of himself he thinks they wouldn’t want to see.Nishimura knows what he’s doing and hates it.

“Hey,it’s okay,” Nishimura says, shrugging one shoulder; even if it’sthe farthest thing from the truth. Even if it makes Taki and Tanumaand Kitamoto look at him like he’s crazy. Natsume can’t talk about it– he can’t.Andso Nishimura will make sure he doesn’t have to, making light of thesituation in the space where a serious conversation should be. “Whodoesn’thavea crappyrelative or two in their lives, right?”

Heremembers a lunch period they spent on the roof, and stealing foodout Natsume’s lovingly cooked bento. Remembers telling Natsume “I’dbe totally messed up if I were you,” and having no idea at the timeof how right hewas.

Andwhen Natsume dares lift his head and meet Nishimura’s eyes, Nishimuraadopts a smile that he hopes doesn’t look as dishonest as it feels.“The good ones morethanmake up for the bad ones, though,” he adds – praying, prayingthatNatsume will stop thinking of that man and start thinking of thefoster parents waiting for him at home, who pack him lunches and maketime to walk him home from school. Watching, waiting for that lightto come back to his eyes. He’s not budging an inch until it does.

Takibeams at him from where her head is pillowed on Natsume’s shoulder,and Tanuma’s dark eyes are unfailingly gentle. Those two catch on sofast, they always do, and Kitamoto bumps his shoulder fondly – andthen, finally, impossibly, Natsume smiles.

“Yeah,”he says, very soft. “The good ones do.”

#leamori #natsuyuu fic #nishimura satoru #natsume takashi #tanuma kaname #taki tooru #my writing #prompt #natsuyuu #this was self indulgent at best :')#natsume yuujinchou

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