#natsuyuu fanfiction

[daboyau]

Four years ago I made a joke comment on a NatsuYuu fic. Today, I finished the fic I’d begun a draft for back then. It was most definitely not worth the wait. Sorry. 💖

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“Hey, Natsume,” Kitamoto says, cutting Nishimura off mid sentence. Nishimura thinks about feigning annoyance for a second, but his friend’s tone is casual, far too deliberate, and it makes something like worry twist in his stomach. 

“Yes?” Natsume tries to match Kitamoto’s tone, but falls just short. 

“Have the Fujiwara’s always had a horse?”

“A what.”

It’s answer enough. Kitamoto’s expression shifts from careful confusion to absolute bafflement. Nishimura strains up on his tip toes, trying to see over the neighbors’ walls and hedges. He is jealous of the extra centimeters that apparently put his friend in the perfect position to see into the Fujiwara’s yard from here. Natsume is doing the same, expression twisted with confusion and concern.

“Wow,” Nishimura says as they draw closer. “It really is a horse.”

“A what?” Natsume repeats, and this time his tone shows the barest hint of emotion. He sounds a little like he’s choking on something. He takes a few steps closer, leans just a little further, and Nishimura can see the exact moment his gaze finds the strange intruder in his foster parents’ front yard. 

“Ah,” he says.

“Yeah,” Kitamoto replies.

“That sure is a horse,” Nishimura chimes in helpfully. He’s never seen Natsume look so done, so quickly. He smiles and claps his friend on the back, doubling him over just enough to ruffle his messy hair. “Let us know if it’s friendly! Maybe we can learn how to ride.”

Natsume covers his face, though that does nothing to muffle his groan. Nishimura laughs and trails behind them as Kitamoto gently leads their friend to his front door. They’re careful to keep their distance from the massive horse, who is watching them with a worryingly intense gaze. Nishimura keeps his eyes on it until the moment they’ve locked the door safely behind them. Just in case. Right as the door shuts, he swears he sees the horse dip its head to him, strange horsey face looking approving…somehow.

He shakes it off, deciding it’s probably better to just ignore that. 

.

Natsume asks Misuzu to be a more common animal, like a dog, and Misuzu complies. Of course, that means there’s suddenly a dog the literal size of a horse standing before him, so it isn’t any better. In the end, Natsume begs him to just turn back into a horse before anyone notices the massive grey dog or panther sized tabby cat haunting the small yard. The spirit does so without a word of complaint. His eyes are bright, though, and if Natsume didn’t know any better, he’d almost call it amusement. Or maybe mischief. 

Nearby, Misuzu’s frogs are singing cheerily. Natsume wonders if Touko-san will notice if he digs a hole in her garden and just...lays down in it for a while. Maybe if he sleeps long enough the problem will fix itself. 

“Can you please leave?” He asks instead, not really hopeful that the answer will change from the last three times he’s asked, and Misuzu tosses his giant horsey head as though offended by the question. Natsume sighs, knowing it’s not worth the fight, and amends, “Can you at least not cause any trouble?” 

“I would never cause trouble for you, Natsume-dono. I received word that Madara was shirking his responsibilities as your caretaker, so as such I will be accompanying you from this point forward.”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

Misuzu stomps a massive hoof but does not otherwise acknowledge Natsume’s plea. Nyanko-sensei is nowhere to be found, unfortunately proving the point.

.

Touko and Shigeru are confused but not upset about the unexpected new addition to their yard. Touko worries to herself about what to feed it while Shigeru wonders aloud if there are any city ordinances against keeping such a large animal at a residential property. Natsume assures them that he’ll take care of anything the horse needs until he can find its rightful owner.

Misuzu has made it very clear that he isn’t going anywhere for the time being, so Natsume is glad that his guardians aren’t forcing him to get rid of the strange visitor, because he’s not sure he could make the spirit move no matter how much he tried. Misuzu is enormous in any of his forms, and Natsume isn’t exactly known for his muscle mass. Considering that he’s pretty sure punching Misuzu when he looks like this would just make the Fujiwaras and their neighbors upset, the only option left is to just deal with having the spirit camped out in the yard.

He breathes a sigh of relief when Misuzu tells him that he will not require food or shelter while he is there. Natsume still finds the largest bucket he can and fills it with water. The frogs croak happily when he places it in the yard, climbing up its metal sides before flopping contentedly inside. Misuzu watches, pleased by the small act of kindness. 

.

Misuzu turns out to be a better body guard than Nyanko-sensei after all. For the first week that he is there, Natsume gets more full nights of undisturbed rest than he has since the day he found the Book of Friends. There’s the tiniest sliver of lingering guilt when he thinks of the spirits that must have been frightened away when they came seeking their names to be returned, but he likes to think that none of them will be too inconvenienced by having to wait a little while. 

It’s nice to have a break, and he certainly won’t complain about actually being able to stay awake during his classes, but there is the small issue of a horse following him to and from school. It’s embarrassing, more than anything else. He hears all the whispers and giggles surrounding him whenever his classmates look out the windows and see Misuzu at the gates.

At least they seem more impressed than weirded out by it. He’s always left a bit awed by the kindness of the people in this town; he’s certainly found himself the school pariah for less than this. Maybe he’ll never understand the people around him, but he’s grateful for their kindness nonetheless.

.

“It seems to really like you,” Kitamoto says, very deliberately not turning back to look at the massive beast clip clopping demurely at their heels. 

“It would seem that way,” Natsume replies, his voice heavy with the burden of seemingly being loved by the strangest of creatures. The horse makes a loud, breathy sound, and it sounds so much like a laugh that Nishimura has to stop himself from turning around to eye it suspiciously. Just to make sure it isn’t actually two giant men in a horse costume or something. Natsume has been known to attract the strangest kinds of people, so it’s not outside the realm of possibility. 

“Have you had any luck finding its owners?” 

Natsume shakes his head. He looks resigned, if somewhat pained by that fact. 

“He found his way into the Fujiwara’s yard, so I’m sure when he’s ready to go home, he will.” The words are delivered through gritted teeth, and Natsume throws a very pointed look over his shoulder at the horse. When Nishimura dares a look behind him, too, he shudders at the sight of dark lips pulled back to show way too many teeth.

It’s hard not to flinch away when the horse meets his eyes directly. There is way too much intelligence behind the strange, pale grey irises as it stares unblinkingly back. Its eyes crinkle, the lips pulling wider to show teeth that seem just a little bit too sharp, and…. He’s…pretty sure that’s supposed to be the horse equivalent of a smile? 

Natsume sure does find some weird pets.

.

The golden-orange glow of sunset bathes the yard in warmth and deep shadows. Misuzu keeps his vigil, ears swiveling despite the way his eyes are half lidded. His tail flicks every now and then, and it’s almost funny how very normal it seems.

Natsume checks on him between homework questions, eyes straying from math equations and messy kanji to the oddly serene view outside. Misuzu is as unobtrusive as a horse can be, standing like a statue in the yard, never making a sound. Compared to Nyanko-sensei’s near constant stream of complaints and nagging, it’s almost unsettling how placid such a massive and powerful creature is.

With a sigh of relief, Natsume closes his textbook, happy to be finished. Night is approaching, and he still needs to replace the frogs’ water before it gets dark. He smiles, glancing towards the window once more out of habit, and freezes. His stomach rolls, heart stuttering in his chest, as Touko approaches Misuzu. 

He’s been trying so hard not to impose, to make sure that this unusual intruder doesn’t cause any trouble for his foster parents, that the sight of the two of them in such close proximity makes him feel sick. He doesn’t think that Misuzu will hurt either of the Fujiwaras, but…there’s always the worry lingering in the back of his mind. A faraway memory of a youkai offering to eat his latest foster family and steal him away; the promise of a life away from human cruelty as horrifying as it was enticing. Sometimes, it’s hard to separate those strange and dangerous attempts at kindness with the gentler ones he experiences now. 

He opens the window, mouth already open to call out, to distract and misdirect until the two halves of his life are separated into their neat little boxes. Before he can, though, he hears Touko’s soft voice carried on the wind, so full of delight and that warmth he treasures so much, crooning to Misuzu. Any warnings he may have called catch in his throat, dissipating before they can ever reach his lips. 

Natsume watches as Touko offers their visitor an apple, sees her smile when it is accepted after a brief hesitation. A careful hand raised, palm out, and he thinks about the way she offered her hand to him so many months ago, asking him to come home with her and Shigeru. Misuzu’s eyes close as he dips his head, pressing a velvet nose into her waiting hand. 

Natsume settles himself back down, smile soft as he closes his eyes and rests his head against the wall beneath the window, listening to Touko’s soft murmurs and eventual coos of delight when she discovers the frogs that have made their home in Misuzu’s water bucket. She’s already making plans for a small pond for them, calling Shigeru out to join her to offer his own expertise on the coming landscaping project. A gentle breeze ruffles his hair, warm and somehow familiar. Somewhere, a bell chimes, and he knows that the Fujiwaras have unknowingly found themselves a new friend in a being they’ll never be able to fully understand.

They’re good at doing that. 

.

When Nyanko-sensei returns from his trip into the mountains, he’s red cheeked and far too tipsy to notice the unusual visitor. Natsume debates hitting him for being the root cause of all this trouble, but by the time he’s sitting up in bed and ready to do so, Sensei’s already settled down at the foot of his futon, fast asleep and purring loud enough that Natsume might almost swear he feels it echo in his own chest. He sighs, and his fists unclench, and he runs one gentle hand down Sensei’s back, rubbing briefly at the spot that always makes him melt. Even in sleep, Sensei curls closer, huffing with delight.

Not a cat, his ass. Natsume smiles, weary but content, and settles back down for the night. There’s sure to be a commotion in the morning once Sensei realizes they have a visitor that he can’t easily bully into submission, but for now, things are peaceful. From the yard, he hears Mizuzu snort and the frogs start singing again, lulling him back into a gentle sleep. 

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(When the morning comes, the sound of a cat’s angry yowls and a horse’s strange laugh-like whinnies will fill the air. Natsume will bury his face in his pillow and wonder why he was cursed with such a strange life. He’ll be smiling the whole time.) 

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Natori's voice brought him back to the present. "You alright there, Natsume?" The look the exorcist was giving him was warm and a tad concerned. Natsume gave him a small, but earnest smile. "I'm fine, Natori-san. Just a bit nervous." This was the truth. He had no idea why the head of the Matoba Clan invited him this time, but he was sure that the man was up to no good. Or: Natsume gets invited to an exorcist meeting. He is not too happy about it, but at least the view is great.

Author: @dragon-in-a-mug

[kinmokuseijam]

blessed curse | 1221 words | hiiragi-centric

Tying a holly branch to a treasury pillar in order to protect a household—is this a blessing, or is this a curse? (It’s both.)

Happy Natsume Week 2024! For @natsumeweek's Day One: Hopes/Curses.

𓇢𓆸 on ao3 (or under the cut)! 𓇢𓆸

✽ 柊 (Osmanthus heterophyllus) /ˈhīraˌgi/ noun The Japanese name for osmanthus heterophyllus, a type of holly tree/bush; traditionally used by Japanese households as a lucky charm to ward off burglars and evil spirits at the front of Japanese homes. ✽

Hiiragi doesn't remember when it started.

All she remembers is being part of the mountain, and that she'd been inhabiting a holly plant when her consciousness first came into existence. She doesn't remember if she was the holly plant itself, or just a stray spirit inhabiting it—she only remembers that a holly plant was the first thing her spirit took root in.

When she'd gained enough spiritual energy to wander, she eventually became the mountain guard, but it wasn't long before a human captured her, binding him to the pillar of the treasury in his house.

He hadn't said it, but she knew what her job was:

Stay here and guard the household; ward off untoward entities, spirits and humans alike.

(He hadn't said it, but she knew what her fate was:

Stay here and be cursed to a fate of eternal submission to humans.)

Tying her to a treasury pillar in order to protect a household of humans—she'd wondered if this symbolic gesture was a blessing, or a curse. A while later, she'd realised the answer.

(It's both—a blessing to them, but a curse to her. And try as she might, she could not escape.)

 

Perhaps this is it for me; cursed to a fate of eternal submission to humans, she'd thought.

✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽

Or so she'd only thought, because one human exceeded her expectations; a human child.

She'd been trying in vain to escape again. Her nails broken and hands bleeding, she was nonetheless unfazed—she'd gotten used to injuring herself in the process.

The boy hadn't gotten used to it, though, so he'd gifted her a bandage, along with her first experience of human touch—

Human children are warm, she'd thought at the time he'd tried, hands shaking, to wrap the bandage around her frail, twig-like wrist.

"Human children don't have the power to curse others," is what she'd said instead, because he'd been on the verge of tears telling her about how he'd cursed his mom just by existing, causing her to die; because bad things happen all because he "sees weird things", is what he'd said, on the verge of tears.

"Human children don't have the power to curse," is what she'd said, touching his warm hand, loosely interlacing her cold, twig-like fingers with his. "Your hands aren't made for cursing—they're made for healing. You're a nice kid."

He'd looked at her then, deer-in-headlights like what she'd said was out-of-the-world.

"You're a nice, normal kid."

Human children are so very warm, she'd thought.

✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽

Or so she'd only thought, because the next time she meets the same 'nice, normal kid' is when he's hot on her tails—

He's coming to exorcise her.

Strangely enough, she doesn't mind—the deepest part of her soul knows that it'd be an honour to have him be the one to exorcise her. After all, he'd been the warmest being she's ever had the honour to touch.

And so she tries to make his life easier, and walks straight into his trap.

There's no need to prolong this existence, she'd thought. This cold, cursed existence where human children will never be warm again.

She walks into the middle distance where the exorcist trap lay, pretending she's walking back in time; back into the child's arms.

Human children will never be warm again, she thinks.

✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽

Or so she'd only thought, because she finds that a second human has exceeded her expectations; another human child.

This time, he wasn't touching her hands, or her—he was fiddling with the rope that bound her (the same robe that has cursed her to a fate of eternal submission to humans); it stung, thanks to the curse between the rope and her.

It stung, and so her reaction wasn't kind; she'd charged straight towards him and shouted at him, mustering with her little spiritual energy whatever weak voice constituted as shouting in her books.

"Will you stop that, you brat?" Her voice crackling like a shriveled branch, she'd seemingly startled him, because he jumps at the sudden intrusion. But she also notices that he isn't remotely as startled as she'd expected him to be, because he turns and starts speaking to her in a voice that was too normal for a normal human child his age.

(Joke's on her, because he's definitely no 'normal human child', she realises later.)

"Who tied you up?" He glances at the shackles that have cursed her to human oppression thus far.

She doesn't respond.

"Are you injured?" He glances at the bandages encircling her wrist; she hadn't realised it before now, but they seem to be coming undone.

It's unmistakable, the expression in his eyes—it's been decades since she's seen that sort of expression, and she'd thought that she'd never have gotten the privilege of experiencing human warmth again, not after that child.

Human children are warm, she thinks, as this child tries to rewrap the bandage around her frail, twig-like wrist.

It's a waste, because even spirits aren't immune to the vicissitudes of time, much less human children. She starts making her way again, walking into the trap laid out for her by her one and only final executioner; the one who'd been a warm human child only decades ago.

I'll never get to feel the warmth of human children again, she thinks.

✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽

Or so she'd only thought, because she's lying on the grass, weak but alive, having just survived a lightning strike thanks to the human child and his giant feline bodyguard who'd, for some godforsaken reason, taken the hit for her.

"I figured she had a fifty-fifty chance," an adult voice says, gentle but somehow remorse, the resonance of it simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar (he's an adult now, after all; he won't sound exactly the same, but she can recognise him nonetheless). "She could not escape the curse that bound her to the pillar, so I figured that if the lightning had struck her, she'd at least have finally passed on to the afterlife. And in the best case scenario, if she'd managed to survive, the rope would burn away, freeing her from the shackles of human oppression forever."

The explanation was not directed at her, but she appreciates it nonetheless.

"Thank you for shielding her, Natsume," the same voice continues. "She survived thanks to that. I'm really thankful."

(She's still too weak to speak, but she's thankful, too—thankful that he's thankful, and thankful that humans can be warm, not just when they're only young, but at any stage of their brief existence.)

✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽✽

When she finally awakens, she realises that she's been given a name:

Hiiragi.

"You just look like a Hiiragi to me," Natori shrugs, smiling casually. "Plus, you’ve always been like a holly warden plant anyway—your previous master had tried to use you as a protective charm, too. Come to think of it, they really should just have planted some hiiragi bushes outside their house, instead of trapping you in a treasury."

(She doesn't say it aloud, but she thinks it's a good name for her.)

Tying a holly branch to a pillar in order to protect a household—she'd initially thought that it was a blessing for them, and a curse for her. Now that the events have played out in this direction, she learns the right answer.

(It’s both.)

[star-spacer]

A Promise Made, a Person Met

I meant to make this as part of natsumeweek but life just gets in the way so I have a backlog of one of two natsuyuu and mushishi fics I'll post them slowly lol

Natsume x reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Coming back with plans to fulfill your promises, you end up meeting someone new.

[Image ID: A long horizontal screenshot of green countryside. In the distance there are green mountains and trees.]

You had never seen a person shine as brightly as he did before.

Backlight against the backdrop of the school window the sun only served to enhance the glowing power he held within his core. It took you off-guard and you stared embarrassingly long at the willowy boy before giggling and his uncomfortable shifting snapped you out of it. You quickly introduced yourself and sought your assigned seat, somewhere in front of the boy and plopping down on it and hunching down. The awkward conundrum of being a teenager hit like a truck and you wanted to cover your face in embarrassment. Trust you to make a fool out of yourself on your first day at the new school.

“All right, everyone, settle down,” the teacher called. “You have more important things to worry about. Like this week’s upcoming test.”

There was a resounding groan but every student dutifully got out their work. Amidst the rustling of papers and folders, you overheard one of the boys behind you speak up. 

“Wow,” he declared. “I never thought I’d see the day when our very own Natsume Takashi would get an admirer!”

You sunk down deeper into your seat, but one thing out of all that caught your attention.

Natsume Takashi.

You wouldn’t forget that name. After all, he shone like the sun itself.

The first time you two met outside of school, it was when you were running errands for your parents. A bright, cheerful day, sunlight falling down onto your skin to warm it as you stepped out of the house. Your parents wanted you to run to the store, to grab ingredients for treats to repay the kind couple next door. They had brought loads of food for your family the first week you settled there, and now, your parents wanted to repay the favor.

Just as you were shoving on your shoes to avoid your brother’s requests to pick up extra snacks, the sounds of chattering approached. Looking up made you squint your eyes at the golden-warm glow, realizing it was Natsume and a black-haired boy walking past the half-wall of your house. The two of you locked eyes and simultaneously froze like deer in the headlights. For a moment, the world, gleamed vibrantly, as if this boy’s arrival had made the world become better. 

Natsume’s friend didn’t realize anything until he was a good few steps away, stopping and glancing back at Natsume and then following his line of sight to you. 

“Natsume?” He asked, hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

His words broke the spell that held the both of you and heat spread across your face. 

“Hi, Natsume!” You said almost too loudly. “I didn’t expect you here.”

“Me either,” the boy returned. He jerked an awkward thumb at the one next to him. “This is Tanuma Kaname, Tanuma, this is my new classmate.”

Tanuma had an aura around him, not the glowing power like Natsume, but enough to be noticeable. This time, you didn’t get caught up in staring as you introduced yourself, still standing stiff-legged in front of your door.

“Ah,” There was something that shifted in Tanuma’s eyes, but his expression didn’t betray anything. “Nice to meet you.”

The door opened behind you as your brother stuck his head out. “Oi, I know you’re trying to dodge me brat–”

He shut his mouth with a clack as he saw the other boys out on the street, all the more awkward as his scrutiny fell on them. Before he could say anything, you threw out a hand. “You know what I’ll grab your snacks! Just gimme the money and the list.”

“Nice.” Everything was shoved into your fist in the blink of an eye, but your brother didn’t hesitate in getting in the last word by scrubbing the top of your head with a palm, messing up the hair there. He didn’t let you spit back an insult as he slammed the door shut.

You then remembered that there were also two others standing there, turning to them with wooden limbs and an awkward smile as you started to shuffle down the path of your house to them. Once you were finally past the wall of your house, you pointed behind you. “I’m gonna go to the market.”

With those words, you turned around and sped walked away. When you glanced back, you saw them entering the house right next to yours.

The market–it turned out–was actually the other way, but you couldn’t bear facing them any longer. Though you did quite regret it later when you nearly tumbled over the bridge after being startled by a Yokai resembling a rolling mass of weeds.

***

Exhausting. 

Human interaction was exhausting. 

But climbing these steps in the middle of nearly summer sun? Also exhausting.

After the debacle outside of your house, your parents almost forced you to deliver the treats to the neighbors (which, by some very unfunny irony, ended up being Natsume’s guardians! Ha! What are the chances!) but your brother took mercy on you and bailed you out of the situation. That was why you were out here, climbing the seemingly unending steps to get to the shrine you remembered being there.

Long ago, when you were younger and your abilities were just flourishing, you made a promise to a spirit. The naive child that you were, with a heart too big for the world, promised to come back and free him from his shrine where he had been imprisoned. You didn’t get the chance to work on it, as you had to move away due to one issue or another. It allowed you to come in contact with so many other spirits and Yokais, a slew of experiences and promises exchanged that matured you into the person you were today.

Still, you never forgot the first promise you ever made.

His name was Madara.

He talked to you when you were a young, crying child, often seeking shelter in the clearing around his little shrine. His presence, although imprisoned, had warded off the spirits who followed you. He was arrogant and rude but still let you stay until the worst of the spirits were gone. Through many conversations and many visits, your young mind had latched onto his tales of glory, and when you had to leave this place, you had made a promise with him.

You told him that you would come back to free him, break the wards that had been too strong at that time. It had taken life much longer to return you here, but now there you were, various Yokai-given items in your bags in the hopes that they might break the seals. But as you reached the location where you remembered his imprisonment to be, you were met with a surprise. You froze as you laid your eyes on the sight in front of you, jaw dropping in dismay.

What once was a rope barrier strung up with zig-zagging shide papers was severed into two. More importantly, the small wooden shrine that was once there was nothing more than splinters of rotting wood on the ground and bits of porcelain.

“Ohhhhh my god,” you muttered, dropping the bag and sitting down on the grass. “It broke?? He got out??”

You muttered incoherently, flopping back on your back against the springy grass. All this workout for nothing, hauling a heavy bag up steep stairs. Though a big part of you wondered just who broke the seal. It was powerful enough to keep someone like Madara within the small area, so it must have been someone truly powerful to break it.

Your mind flashed back to Natsume, warm and glowing, but quickly brushed it away as you fully laid back to simply accept your fate.

Almost like a figment of your vivid imagination coming to life, you heard the pounding of feet on stone and the sound of Natsume’s voice.

“S-Sensei, wait up!”

You screamed as a doughy mass popped into your face, assaulting your vision with blurs of orange, white, and black fur. Reflexes brought your hands up to pull the thing away from your face.

“Finally! After years! You finally showed up!” A nasally voice came from the creature as you pulled it off. In your hands was what seemed to be an immensely round feline–wait.

You glanced at the cat.

You glanced at the remnants of the shrine, fragments of porcelain there. If you looked closely, you could see faded paint on it. An eye here, a whisker there.

You glanced at Natsume, connecting the dots and startling to your feet in a move that made the boy flinch and the cat in your arms meow in displeasure.

“You freed him?!?!”

“He did not!” Madara squawked angrily in your hold, wiggling back and forth. “The foolish boy tripped and ripped through my barriers. I took care of freeing myself thank you very much!”

Natsume rapidly switched his attention between you and Madara. “D-Do you know each other??? Nyanko-sensei is this why you were so insistent on coming here???”

Nyanko-sensei? Was that the name that he was called now?

You fought to reign in your hysterical laughter as the spirit bucked himself indignantly out of your grip. Kicking you in the chest with surprising force for such a blobby form.

“I can’t believe it! Wow! You actually freed him!”

Seeing the boy slowly backing away like he was about to bolt, the cat meowed, “Natsume, this is the brat I was waiting on! The one I said made a promise to free me.”

Seeing the boy’s confused expression, you reigned in your emotions and filled in the blanks. “When I was younger, I sought out this place as shelter. His aura and the seals were strong enough to ward off the Yokais that followed me. As thanks, I told him that I would free him when I got stronger. But I didn’t think you’d come to free him before me!”

The flighty look on his face was replaced by a tentative hoe, so achingly raw on his open face. “So it’s you… You can see them too, then…”

You nodded, taking a seat on the grass and indicating for him to do the same. Nyanko-sensei didn’t hesitate in jumping into your lap. Your stomach rumbled, and you dragged your backpack closer to rummage through it for the food you packed. “Among other things. My sight has always been abe to detect… more. I can see spirits and any distinct auras in humans that indicate their powers.”

He seemed fascinated by your words, barely noticing the sandwich that you decided to discreetly shove into his hands. “What do you mean?”

“You have an incredible amount of power, Natsume,” Nyanko replied for you. “This one was probably drooling over you the first time you two met.”

His crass words made you flail, dislodging the cat. “N-No it’s not like that! I’ve just–It’s just that you shine so brightly that I couldn’t help noticing you!”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, leaning back to prop up on his arms. He was still holding the sandwich. “Was that why you froze in front of the class?”

Being reminded of the incident made you groan, unwrapping your food to take a big bite out of it. “Don’t remind me about it… That was so embarrassing.”

He smiled at you, a soft, gentle thing. “No. It makes sense now…” His pondering turned into confusion when he finally registered the item in his hand. “Huh..?”

You looked away, pointedly taking another bite of yours. “I brought it along just in case. I always pack extra food for anybody who might want it. It’s… about time for lunch anyways.”

“Yeah! Yeah!” Madara yapped, beginning to root for the paper-wrapped food. “Natsume if you don’t want it, I’ll take it!”

The boy leaned away, sticking his sandwich up into the air out of the Yokai’s reach. “No way, Sensei! You ate almost half of my breakfast this morning I’m not giving you this.”

“Madara can have half you mine,” you said, splitting your sandwich into two. You paused, upon their silence, glancing between them. “Yokais aren’t allergic to anything right?”

“Uh-Uh, no… I didn’t expect you to call him Madara. I call him Nyanko-Sensei”

“Hmph, it’s because this one has marginally more respect for truly power beings,” Madara harrumphed as he waddled closer to you. He settled down on the grass in front of you, expectantly waiting for the food so you put it down in front of him, on top of a piece of paper.

The feline wasted no time tearing into it, so for the next few minutes, the warm air was filled with the sounds of you three eating and the noise of distant wildlife. 

“I’m… glad. To see another person who can see them,” Natsume murmured quietly, tossing a bit of his sandwich to Madara despite his rejection earlier. 

“Yeah…I’ve never met another person who had abilities like mine. I’m glad you’re the first.”

So in that little clearing, you allowed yourself to bask in the warmth of both the sun above you and its incarnate in the boy next to you. From the way you saw him interact with Madara, he has nothing but kind intentions. He talked and dealt with the spirit with an ease that you had. It allowed you to relax, eyes drooping in a haze of sleepiness. Though this was the first promise you didn’t fulfill for a Yokai, you didn’t mind. Based on Madara’s content purring, ti didn’t seem like he did either.

Natsume Takashi was so incredibly warm. Radiant and glowing and suffusing the air environment with an air that was so distinctly him. Even with the short time you’ve known him, you couldn’t ask for a better person to have freed Madara. You hoped he wouldn’t mind you becoming a part of his life.

You let out a content sigh.

It was a beautiful sunny day.

[schrodingersauthorii]

Au where Takashi, Shuuichi, and Seji are all nekomatas.

Traditional folklore holds that cats can become nekomata as young as 15 or even 7 years old. I like 15, because that’s around the age we see Natsume and the baby exorcists. My ultimate favorite manga unlicensed outside of Japan (Tonari no Youkai-san) holds that the nekomata has the same chronological and relative age to a human (I.e., a 21 year old, freshly transformed nekomata is the same as a human college student despite being ancient as a cat) and I strongly believe in this interpretation for Reasons.

So we have Shuuichi, who becomes a teenage cat yokai in a household of ex-exorcist who hate the supernatural; Seji, who was raised since kittenhood to be a powerful shiki of the Matoba clan; and Takashi, recently transformed and rehomed with the Fujiwara’s- who know good and well that he’s too sprightly for a 15 yo cat but aren’t saying anything.

The only problem is that I don’t know how to make Shuuichi a show cat in this.

[connan-l]

Colorful

Fandom: Natsume's Book of Friends Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Morinaga Souko/Natsume Reiko Summary: So many colors suited the forest girl that Souko couldn't assign a single one to her. Words: 7,123 Link: AO3 | Fanfiction.net

Notes: Believe it or not, I actually started writing this in 2018, and for some reason was never able to complete it lol. But I got so excited with the announcement of season 7 that I decided it was a good time to finish this, before we get to see those chapters get adapted.

Find out Reiko and Souko’s story still makes me cry even 5 years later, and I can’t wait to bawl about them once they’re animated!

* * *

People were always surprised when Souko told them she didn’t like the color blue.

It wasn’t like she hated it, but she just wasn’t very fond of it.

She liked green, yellow, purple, red — vivacious pigments that felt alive, cheery; hues that a child would love to use to paint one of his drawings.

Blue was just sad.

The watery tint of the deep sea, the cold tint of winter.

Souko loved assigning colors to people. She saw her father as a vibrant red, and her mother — from the little she remembered of her — as a soft purple. Her uncle was golden, her aunt orange, her grandmother green.

So although she didn’t hate it, a part of her always felt disappointed ‘blue’ was the color people associated with her the most — simply because it was what she’d been named after.

Sometimes, Souko thought it was a funny twist of fate, for her to bear the name of a color she only connected to sadness; a warped prediction of what her life would look like after she fell ill.

No one who met her after she got sick would believe it, but she actually used to be a very energetic child. Back then, she could spend the entire day running around and climbing to trees and playing all sorts of games outside with other kids, giving her father a hundred of panic attacks.

All of that crumbled away when her heart started to malfunction two years ago, and suddenly her whole body began to fall apart without her control.

It had been gradual. Slow and excruciating.

She barely noticed the first signs; the shaking in her hands, her frequent headaches, her legs incapable of walking or running for very long. One day on her way to school, she passed out — and just like that, she spent the following year practically unable to get out of bed.

Her life then withered away.

She couldn’t do any of the things she liked anymore, couldn’t go to school anymore, couldn’t see anyone but her family.

She stopped running and playing outside, and she stopped gardening, and she stopped cooking.

She didn’t really had any friends, as the shy girl she’d always been, but she’d still managed to have some decent relationships with some kids at school, at least.

Now she didn’t even had that anymore.

She withered, drowning away in a bottomless cerulean sea, and for a long, long time, nothing seemed to really matter anymore.

During those endless days, there was only two things she could do: read, which she took the habit of doing since then, and stare at her window. Her bedroom was in front of their garden, so she had a direct sight on the many colorful flowers her mother had planted there long ago, and that Souko had continued to take care of since then. But most of the times, it wasn’t the rainbow of flowers she would stare at, but the blue of the sky — getting lost in its infinity, her heart heavy with anguish and anger at her own life.

Dad had told her, once, that the reason why they named her ‘Souko’ was because she’d been born during a day with a completely clear blue sky. No clouds, no shade of gray, no sun; only blue and blue and blue, as far as the eye could see.

But as Souko kept staring at that same sky, the only thing she could think about was how profoundly empty that blue looked.

* * *

With the help of medications and reeducation, she slowly started to get better — but the doctors were unequivocal on the fact that she would never be able to move like she used to.

She had to limit her gestures, her outings, her breathing; she couldn’t run anymore, or barely so. She was getting better, but she still felt like she was imprisoned within her own body; a bird unable to get out of a cage of its own making.

But the worst wasn’t really any of this. It all weighted heavily on her, of course; but she could bear that. She didn’t really have a choice. The burden her illness had taken on her family, however, was another thing entirely.

The Morinaga household was constituted of only Souko and her father since her mother’s death when she was little, but her uncle and aunt lived nearby and were practically part of their home since as long as she could remember. Dad was very close to his brother, and so her uncle was almost like a third parent to Souko, always having been deeply involved in her life.

Thus her illness had repercussions not only on her father, but on her uncle, her aunt and the whole family. Everyone was always so tense whenever they came to see her, obvious tight smiles and stiff shoulders as they looked at her; and through the months she’d heard hundreds of arguments between her father and grandmother, between the two brothers, between most of her relatives, all about the same topics. What to do with her condition, with her treatment’s cost, with everything else.

Even Dad stopped looking at her like he used to, and instead a pained expression spread across his face every time his eyes met hers. She felt more like a poor little wounded animal he pitied than like his daughter.

That was the hardest part. The idea that not only her body was getting torn apart, but her family did as well — and that it was all her fault.

She couldn’t stand it. It made her want to run away.

Find a place far away; cut from all of her problems, where she wouldn’t have to worry about anything, and where she wouldn’t worry anyone.

A place to be all alone.

And then one night after dinner, Dad approached her with an awkward smile and addressed her in a gentle, careful voice:

"The other day the doctor made me an offer... I thought about it and it could be a good opportunity. He said that… to help with your convalescence, we could move to the countryside.”

At first, Souko wasn’t sure what to think of it.

Truthfully, she didn’t want to move.

She knew nothing at all about the small town where her dad wanted to go, and going there would mean losing all of the landmarks she’d known her whole life. It meant leaving their house where she grew up. Uncle and Auntie. Mom’s grave from a few meters away in the cemetery. Her school.

Souko might not have had any friends here, she still didn’t want to lose the relationships she had with the people of her hometown — and she didn’t want to have to make the effort to form new bonds with strangers.

The very idea made her stomach twist with anxiety. But she couldn’t turn Dad down; not when she knew he also probably didn’t want to move either, and that he only proposed that for her sake.

So against all of her better instincts, Souko agreed.

* * *

She couldn’t manage to assign any color to the forest girl.

No matter how hard she tried to, none of the choices — none of the different tints and shades and hues — seemed to fit her.

Or, rather, all of them fitted her.

The girl — her match companion, the teenager she’d met hidden within the deepest parts of the woods, like a rare, delicate diamond — was the most beautiful and fascinating person Souko had ever seen; ephemeral like a ghost, flippant like a cat and fluttering like a butterfly.

Her long silver hair seemed to change color with the sunlight; turning white or golden or purple contingent on the sky’s whims.

Souko blurted that out, once, without thinking much about it beforehand; and then regretted it right away, because of how childish it sounded.

The girl just laughed.

“Purple?” She repeated, and Souko felt herself blush. “Really?”

“B-Because, look… Your hair is so light, so it take on the dusk’s color. And when dusk turns orange, or pink, then your hair also…”

“Is that so.”

The girl looked over at the horizon, which was indeed starting to take on a mauve tint. For a moment, her companion seemed contemplative; then finally, she turned towards her again and grinned.

“Well, what do you think? Is purple my color?”

Souko felt the scarlet of her cheeks deepens even more, but she was able to muster the courage to actually reply truthfully: “I think every color is your color. You look pretty in everything.”

And that was true, too.

Souko could imagine her in red, pink, purple, orange, black and white — and that girl, her mysterious nameless acquaintance of the forest, would be just as wonderful and breathtaking as ever.

She would look beautiful and full of life even in blue.

Souko had never seen a person like that before, so radiant and mesmerizing that her eyes couldn’t stop staring at her, that her mind couldn’t help but think of her almost all the time.

For a very brief moment, the girl looked slightly taken aback; but she quickly seemed to get over it and simply smiled back at her.

The girl was always smiling.

It was a little disconcerting, sometimes — and it wasn’t that Souko didn’t like seeing her smile, but she just wished that smile looked actually genuine.

Once I’ll win, she swore to herself.

Once I’ll win, I’ll make her give me her name. I’ll make her become my friend — and then I’ll be able to make her smile for real.

* * *

“Oh, the candy’s blue.”

“Isn’t it pretty?”

“Yeah. Like the blue of Souko.”

Her voice resounded in her mind even long after the two of them parted way.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the manner she’d said her name. Softly, fleetingly, lost in the wind, like no one but the girl herself had been supposed to hear it.

The blue of Souko.

Souko had never been fond of her name. She’d never really liked the color blue.

And now, after all she’d been through, the only thing it managed to evoke to her was the emptiness of the sky as she looked through her room’s window stuck in her bed.

That was all the blue of Souko was to her.

But when the girl spoke it… When she said her name so softly, so longingly, Souko couldn’t help but love it.

The girl was a little like a fairy, Souko thought; an otherworldly being who seemed to be able to transform every bad aspects of her life into something magical.

Her name sounded beautiful when she said it. That town in the countryside seemed so fun now that she started spending time with her. Her new home, her tense family, her unfamiliar school and classmates — everything seemed bearable now that she had that girl by her side.

Even the color blue would surely feel warm and vivacious, if her secret companion started wearing some of it.

Before meeting the forest girl, Souko had simply not been able to feel at home anywhere in that town.

It wasn’t like people here weren’t welcoming — at the contrary, everyone was quite nice to her, but Souko still hadn’t been able to shake off the feeling that she simply didn’t belong. She’d always been a timid girl, but suddenly moving here while cutting all ties to her old life, added to the months she’d spent completely isolated from the world because of her illness, made her feel like she’d lost all of her social skills. She could barely handle normal conversations with the other kids, or with the townsfolk — always feeling like people were staring at her, judging her, monitoring her every moves. And even when she was alone, she couldn’t stand to be at her house either, in that unfamiliar place.

That was why coming in the middle of that forest, away from any form of life, away from her family and other people, was the only time that had finally made her feel a little comfortable — and that despite the fact this place had a strange ominous aura and sometimes gave her headaches.

And then she met the girl. The time she spent by her side, chatting idly and having silly matches and laughing together about nothing made her the happiest and most free she’d felt in months. Not since she fell ill.

The girl wasn’t always nice; she could be quite prickly and cold, and it wasn’t like Souko didn’t think that girl was... strange. Truthfully, she could be a little unsettling, or even scary sometimes. Occasionnally, she would just say weird things out of nowhere, or stared past Souko’s shoulder as if she was seeing someone behind her, or dragged her away from a place as if she was trying to run from something.

Something Souko couldn’t see.

(And, sometimes, Souko almost had the impression there really was something else with them, and that it wasn’t just the two of them in the middle of these woods.)

But even so, despite all of this, Souko still didn’t think she could, or wanted to, stop seeing the girl.

At least, she treated Souko like a normal person. She never walked on eggshells around her, even after she’d learned she was sick. And even with all her prickliness, Souko could tell that she had a kind heart, buried behind her sharp gaze and barbed comments. She wouldn’t have let Souko stay by her side otherwise.

The girl and those meetings were so odd, so detached from everything in her life — that sometimes Souko almost felt like she was hallucinating them. Like she was doing some forbidden rituals with a witch, and not just playing childish games.

There was only ever the two of them in that forest, after all — no one else here to confirm the real from the surreal.

Her rendez-vous with the forest girl was the most exciting part of her day, and she spent the whole time thinking about what new games they would play next.

Wishing that today would finally be the day she win — would be the day she finally earn her name.

Earn the right to be her friend.

“Are you going out again?”

Her father stopped her just as she was about to leave the house, and Souko startled. “Ah, yes…”

A worried look crossed his face. “Souko… I’m glad you seem to be so happy, lately — really, but… You need to be more careful. Your body is still…”

“I know,” Souko said, maybe a little more forcefully than she intended. Of course she knew her body was still frail. It was her body, after all — she understood the consequences of its weakened state better than anyone. “I’m careful, Dad, I promise. You don’t need to worry.”

But of course, that was probably a meaningless thing to say. Her father would always worry regardless of what she said.

“…Is that a friend that you see like that every day?” He asked. “I know you said you’ve been getting along better with your classmates lately…”

Souko opened her mouth, then hesitated a little.

She still hadn’t said anything to her father about the forest girl. She hadn’t said anything about her to anyone, period.

She wasn’t really sure why.

She’d told Dad about the classmates she’d started to talk to — they weren’t really friends yet, but they were nice, and Souko would like to become closer.

That, too, was thanks to the forest girl, in a way. It wasn’t like she had encouraged to talk to others or anything, but being able to have normal conversations with someone her age after having been isolated for so long had managed to cheer Souko up and make her feel braver.

The girl always looked so strong and confident, after all; solid as a rock, standing tall among the trees. Souko always felt like nothing could ever hurt or reach her.

So she’d thought that if she wanted to be worthy of befriending the forest girl, then she should try to befriend the more approachable kids at her school first.

But her classmates were different from the girl, and so Souko felt that she couldn’t simply tell Dad about her like she would with a normal classmate. Maybe she wanted to become friends with her for real before telling him — or maybe… maybe she just wanted to keep her as a secret. For now.

Something only Souko knew about.

Her father had still noticed the changes, though, and he looked simultaneously happy and worried about them. He’d already been very concerned from the start, when Souko went back to school, and then about the fact he could tell his daughter had clearly struggled to fit in at their new place. And now he clearly wasn’t happy about her escapades after school; didn’t like her going outside to play around in the forest. Souko sympathized with his feelings, knew that he was only worried for her; but it had been the best she’d felt in such a long time, and she wasn’t about to let that go.

Dad said nothing for a moment, then narrowed his eyes at Souko — and only when she noticed his suspicious look did she realizes that she was blushing.

“…Is that person you’re seeing a boy?”

“Wha— N-No! I-It’s not like that… we’re just…”

Her father laughed a little, and waved his hand. “Sorry, that’s none of my business. But you don’t need to be embarrassed about it, you know. It’s normal, at your age.”

“I-It’s really not like that…”

And it’s not a boy.

But Dad didn’t seem he would believe her no matter what she could say, so Souko felt it would be pointless to argue further. Instead, she went to her rendez-vous spot with the forest girl, and as usual they played together, Souko lost, and then they talked for a while. At some point, the girl took her hand and dragged her somewhere else. Her hand was rugged, and her skin sturdy — but it felt warm.

Souko wished she could keep holding her hand forever.

Maybe Dad isn’t entirely wrong, she thought then, looking at the girl’s pretty long hair flowing in the wind, her heart skipping a beat at the sight.

If she were a boy, maybe I would fall in love with her.

It would be so easy to fall for her. She was so beautiful and strong and fun. Souko was certain most boys at her school must be crushing on her.

(She’d inadvertently said this, one day, and to her utter surprise the girl bursts out laughing ; so hard she had to hold her stomach, and Souko had never seen her laugh so loudly and for so long before.

“No way!” She’d exclaimed after calming down. “Boys don’t like me, at all.”

“H-Huh?” Souko let out. She didn’t think she would lie about this, but she heavily doubted that was true. Maybe no one ever confessed to her, but there was just no way not a single person had at least some feelings for someone as charming as her.

The girl grinned, her green eyes boring straight into Souko’s. “I scare them. Well, to be honest, I don’t really like boys either.”

Souko didn’t know why, but at these words her cheeks flushed and she felt a small warmth of hope bloom in her chest.)

Late in the evening, when Souko came home, the first thing she did was going out in the garden, just as twilight was starting to set.

The place was still barren. Back at their old home, they used to have a garden with a lot of colorful flowers — hibiscus, daisies, orchids, tulips, marigolds… Her mother’s flowers, that Souko loved to take care of; the first thing she would see upon waking up, a rainbow of delicate, shiny petals. In their new house, a lot of things were different, but Dad had made a point to get her a bedroom where she could see the garden too, just because he knew how much Souko had liked it before.

She finally wanted to start feeling at home here, too. So maybe she could start by planting some flowers. Dad would probably like that as well — he’d loved their flowers too.

One day — after she’ll finally be able to learn the forest girl’s name and become her friend, Souko will invite her to her home and introduce her father to her.

Show her her flower garden.

But in the meantime, the forest girl would stay her little secret — something that was hers and hers only.

* * *

One of Souko’s new favorite things was when she was able to surprise the girl.

She always thought a lot about the types of games she could propose to her — even asked her uncle and dad to give her some new ideas. And every day, it felt like the girl was surprised to still find her here in the forest with a new challenge. Almost like she expected her to suddenly stop coming any time now.

How silly, Souko thought. There’s no way I’ll ever stop coming to see you, even if I wanted to.

But even so, she’d never seen the girl as shocked as when she decided to show up one day with lunch boxes in her hands.

“What’s this?” She asked in a bewildered tone, her pale green eyes pinned on Souko like a cat’s.

“Lunch.”

“I can see that,” the girl snapped back sharply, but by now Souko was used to her curtness. She could be a little mean sometimes in her way of speaking, but Souko had come to learn it wasn’t necessarily because she was annoyed. “I was asking why you brought this here— and why you brought two of these.”

Souko flushed a little, but still didn’t let go of the girl’s eyes.

“Well, I… I was just thinking, that you often seems hungry when we meet, and also, how you’re very thin, and so— I just thought that maybe you should just eat a little more. There’s meat in there, and…”

The girl narrowed her eyes at her. “Who do you think you are? My mom?”

Souko blushed even further, and looked away. That did seems a little silly and pretentious to bring that girl a lunch out of the blue, when she put it into words like that. But she couldn’t help it, and— truthfully, Souko had started to get quite worried about her.

It was often that the girl’s belly would suddenly start gurgling in the middle of one their matches, and Souko had noticed how she seemed much lighter than a girl her age should be (absolutely not because Souko was staring her at a little too much, of course; that had nothing to do with this). She’d once asked her if she was eating enough — and then the girl had snorted, rolling her eyes. But she hadn’t replied. So Souko thought, that she could…

But maybe it had been rude of her to do. Just as she was about to apologize though, the girl suddenly grabbed her lunch box and chopsticks, and Souko barely had the time to turns her head towards her that she saw her open the box and starts digging in.

“What?” The girl shot back, catching her staring. “You did say it was for me, right?”

Souko smiled, and nodded enthusiastically. “Y-Yes, of course!”

And so she quietly watched her eat away the whole meal with a smile she couldn’t quite manage to hide. She didn’t even left a single crumb — which on the one hand, Souko was happy about, but on the other it definitely had her more concerned, because that seemed to confirm the fact she truly didn’t get enough to eat at her house.

Souko could never brings herself to ask, but she has the distinct feeling that things were… not great at home, for the girl.

To start with, it was strange for a teenager to hang out in a forest so far away like this. The girl always seemed to be all alone, too; and she was spending so much time here… it didn’t seem like she had any other friends. Much like Souko. But much more worrisome was the fact that she was often hurt. Souko frequently caught glimpse of scratches, bandages, and bruises covering her body. Some of them might be because of her playing around in the woods — and Souko had absolutely seen her doing a lot of reckless things that would get her injured — but…

Others must have been made by someone, Souko was pretty sure.

She tried to ask her a couple of times about her family, but the girl always brushed her asides and changed the topic when she did. Even Souko talked to her sometimes about her father and her uncle and her family, but the girl would never say anything back about herself. She clearly didn’t want to talk about her life at home. So Souko respected that — even if she didn’t like it.

She didn’t want to jump to conclusion about things she couldn’t possibly know either, but… she still worried.

“H-How was it?” Souko decided to ask, trying to stop thinking about such morose things.

“Hm? Oh, good. It was really good.”

Souko beamed. “Really?”

“Why would I lie about that?”

“Hehe, that’s true. Thank you! I’m so glad you like it.”

The girl actually stared at her and lifted an eyebrow at her words. “‘Thank you”?”

“Ah… I’m the one who made that.”

She had woken up earlier this morning specifically to prepare it, following her mother’s old recipe. Dad had been so surprised to see her in the kitchen — it had been the first time she cooked anything since she got sick. Until now, he’d been the one taking care of most of the cooking — or sometimes it was her aunt, when she was home.

Souko had forgotten how much fun cooking actually was.

She used to do it quite frequently back then, but then stopped after she got sick, just like most of her hobbies — and even now that she was recovering, she hadn't gone back to them. Even though now she could easily try them again without endangering her health. Gardening was the same, too. She wondered if she’d have as much fun gardening, if she did it again now.

It’d be nice if I could do those things with her, too, she had thought this morning while cutting off vegetables. The only things she did with the girl was playing games and talking, but she was sure they’d have fun doing other type of activities together as well. I wonder if she loves cooking and gardening…

The idea made her so happy that she had decided to creates the prettiest lunch box for the girl — as colorful as her old flower garden used to be — putting shades of red and green and pink all over, carving orange carrots in little flowers, putting the yellow egg yolk in the form of a sunflower.

Each color so vivid and lovely, each of them suiting the forest girl.

The memories of this morning made Souko smile, and she was only brought back to the present moment thanks to a strong wind blowing through her short dark hair. She turned her head towards the girl, about to apologize for her absentmindedness, but then stopped.

To her surprise, the girl actually seemed really taken aback, eyes wide and mouth agape. Was she truly that shocked by the fact Souko could cook?

(Or was it because she’d cooked for her, specifically?)

“O-Oh,” the girl stuttered — and for a bewildering, fascinating moment, Souko saw her cheeks reddens slightly.

Is she… blushing?

The moment disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and Souko almost thought she’d made it up, a conjured illusion of her mind. But the scarlet on her otherwise white cheeks, and her embarrassed expression, was engraved inside Souko's heart, and she couldn’t help the wide grin that then spreads on her lips.

Of course, scarlet was just as pretty as any other colors on the girl’s face.

She looked just like a flower herself, in all her silver and green and white and red.

Souko wished she was brave enough to kiss her just then.

Instead, she quietly promised to do everything in her power to see that expression on her face once again.

* * *

She couldn’t even remember how she managed to get home, that evening.

Her head wouldn’t stop pounding, so much that she was unable to think. Her body was so heavy that every step felt like torture. Her heart seemed like a dead weight inside her chest; a burden pulling her down and down.

She felt just like that day she’d collapsed for the first time, two years ago; the day that marked the start of the end of her normal life. The only lucid thing she could register was her voice, echoing inside her skull again and again and again.

“Reiko. My name is Reiko Natsume.”

“Go away.”

“You look pale. It’s starting to rain, so you should go home.”

“You should go home.”

Souko knew she should never have gone home the moment she turned around. She knew she should have stayed; that she should have kept talking to her — her forest girl, her ghost of an acquaintance; the lovely, strange, colorful person she fell in love with.

But her voice had been so cold, when she told her to go away.

Her eyes were blank and sharp at the same time, so different from the way she usually looked at her, and Souko couldn’t stand to see that.

And she just hadn’t… she had never even expected that she could be…

It made sense, if she really thought about it; what other teenage girl would spend all her time alone in the forest, but the rumored weird delinquent from the neighboring town?

But Souko had never thought of her like that until now; both seemed so unrelated in her mind, and she felt so shocked she hadn’t been able to properly process it.

And now her duel partner had already vanished, like a mirage of the woods, like she’d never existed at all.

Souko had taken her name, and then nothing of the girl was left.

Now she was all alone in the rain, and the blue of the sky had faded away, replaced with nothing but a foggy, looming gray.

Souko’s steps vacillated, and her head still hammering, she fell on the ground.

She’d finally won, after training for so long — she finally knew her name — and yet she still wasn’t… still couldn’t be her friend.

She needed to go back, she needed to apologize, she needed to talk to her—

But the sound of the rain and the coldness of Reiko Natsume’s voice were the only thing she could hear before her consciousness slipped away.

* * *

The following days were spent in a blur.

Souko barely even registered her father’s voice or her uncle’s hands or the doctor’s visits. She felt like she was in another dimension, far away from this house, this town, this country.

She felt like she was still stuck in that forest, alone with Reiko, the rest of the world non-existent.

In her dreams, Reiko was here, by her side; pretty in all colors of the rainbow, and she smiled, and laughed, and talked. They played games together, they cooked, they gardened.

In her dreams, Souko apologized. She told her she hadn’t meant to leave, she told her she didn’t care about the rumors about her. She told her that to Souko, she wasn’t a violent scary girl, but a fun, and beautiful, and kind person.

She told her she loved her.

In her dreams, Souko was brave enough to finally kiss her.

But then she opened her eyes, and she was all alone in her bed, and there was only the blue of the sky from her bedroom’s window.

One night, she had a different dream, though.

She felt like she heard someone crying, and then Reiko was there, blue petals falling over her hair and uniform.

As she woke up, Souko couldn’t remember what the dream had been about.

* * *

It took her three whole days before she was able to stand again.

Dad and Uncle were relieved, but Souko couldn’t share any of their enthusiasm. She still felt sick, but insisted nevertheless to go back to school. She couldn’t really bring herself to talk to anyone there though, even as her classmates fussed about her health; her mind focused on only one single person — and as soon as the day ended, she ran towards the forest, towards their usual rendez-vous spot.

(She knew she shouldn’t run, she was still coughing, she still felt so weak — but she couldn’t help it.

She had to see Reiko again, as quickly as possible.)

“Reiko?” She exclaimed upon arriving, but there was no one else.

There's no one yet, Souko reminded herself, trying to stay positive. I’m still early. She could come later.

“Reiko!”

She repeated her name for a while — and couldn’t help but think that if only the circumstances were different, she would feel so proud over it.

To have finally been able to learn her name, to be able to call it out like that.

But that didn’t matter much if no one was there to respond to it. To call Souko back.

I don’t even know how it’s written, she thought.

She tried to think of all the combinations of characters to write ‘Reiko’ that could fit her the most, but just like with colors, she couldn’t decide upon a single one. All of them could suit her.

She would have to ask her about it, next time she saw her.

At least she felt pretty certain on how to spell ‘Natsume.’

All-seeing eyes of the summer, the season of ghosts and spirits.

Souko sat at their usual place.

She waited.

She kept staring left and right, attentive to every sound; trying to catch the slightest glimpse of a silver thread.

But by the time dusk came, there was still no one.

She was still all alone.

* * *

Souko stopped talking to her classmates.

A few days after her last encounter with Reiko, she’d asked the girl from her class who’d first told her about the violent high schooler from next town if she knew anything else — but she’d ended up getting into an argument with her. Her classmates had always been very nice up until now, but as soon as she started asking about Reiko Natsume, they completely changed tune and started spewing all those terrible things about her — that she was a violent delinquent, that she was crazy, that she hurt people.

Souko couldn’t help but defend her. Her classmates had never even met Reiko — what did they know about her? But everyone refused to listen to her. They almost all had a specific creepy or terrible anecdote about Reiko Natsume; she hit my cousin, she talked to trees, she burned down a shop — I tell you, that Natsume girl is bad news! C’mon, Morinaga, why do you even want to associate with someone like that? — and so Souko stopped talking to them.

She didn’t mind. She had no intention to keep hanging around such judgmental people who spoke badly of someone purely because of some rumors they’d heard.

She herself felt so ashamed, to have simply believed those hearsay and repeated them thoughtlessly. She had believed she was doing the right thing by warning Reiko about a potentially dangerous person, because she cared about her and didn’t want anything to happen to her — but she couldn’t even imagine how Reiko must have felt hearing this. How badly Souko must have hurt her. And then, when she’d learned her name, Souko had just run away…

She wouldn’t be surprised if Reiko never wanted to see her again.

But even so, she couldn’t just leave things like that. She had to apologize, at least — she had to tell her that she… she didn’t think any of that, about her.

So she tried to ask around about Reiko, tried to find out if anyone knew where she could live, what school she went to — but whenever she did, she only received vague, uncertain answers. Reiko Natsume was a weird orphan who kept being passed around among families like an unwanted stray, so it was hard to keep track of where she was.

Nobody wanted her, and nobody tried to know anything about her.

She's just a poor crazy girl, was the kindest thing one could hear on her behalf.

The more Souko learned about Reiko Natsume, the less it made sense.

This weird, insane, violent girl was nothing at all like the girl she’d gotten to know. Her Reiko could be a little cold, and a little too blunt, but she was nice, and fun, and amazing. It was like two entirely different people sharing the same name. Souko couldn’t even begin to comprehend how anyone would say such awful things about her.

In the end, she wasn’t able to find anything more about her, and so she had no other choice but to go back to the forest, and wait. Which she did, day after day, even against her family’s protests, even when it rained, even when her health kept deteriorating.

She continued waiting alone.

But sometimes, just sometimes, she felt like she could feel another presence.

Like a ghost sitting by her side, waiting with her, sharing in her lost love and her sadness.

Souko thought back to the legends she’d heard about the forest from her classmates; the strange things Reiko would do sometimes — the stares behind her shoulder, dragging her away forcefully just because a branch had snapped, the way she’d gotten startled during their last match, as if she had been distracted by something…

Maybe Souko wasn’t so alone, after all.

Maybe there truly was someone else by her side, someone she couldn’t see.

Maybe if Reiko had seemed so radiant and vibrant, that was because she actually was able to see another world: a world full of new colors, invisible to others.

Souko found comfort at the idea; that she truly had a companion to share her feelings — her pain — with, even if only a little.

* * *

It was during a day with a completely clear blue sky when she had that dream again.

Souko had stopped being able to go to school a while ago, and thus at the same time she stopped being able to go to the forest as well — the first one she didn’t care about anymore, but the second was more troubling.

She didn’t really think Reiko would come back by now — but she still kept coming there, just in case, like a last prayer.

She wondered if her companion she couldn’t see would feel lonely now that she wouldn’t be there anymore. She wondered if they would miss her.

Where could Reiko be now? Was she still sleeping in a forest, talking to creatures only she could sees?

Was she still all alone?

Souko wished wherever she was, it was far, far away from all those people who spoke and treated her so badly. She wished she was able to find a friend, someone who would love her for the person she truly was and would stand by her side no matter what — even if that person couldn’t be Souko.

Her father was in the living room now, sleeping. He had spent the whole night crying, no matter how much Souko had tried to comfort him.

She wished she could find the right words for him — tell him that she was fine, that her life had still been full of wonders and happiness despite all the suffering, that he’d been a wonderful father — but they both knew there was nothing she could do that would soothe his pain. She wished she could apologize to him, for leaving him all alone just like Mom did, but she didn’t even have the energy to do so anymore. The rest of the family — her uncle and aunt and grandmother — should arrive tonight, and Souko hoped they’ll be able to do a better job than her at comforting him.

She looked up from her bed, at the window in front of her.

The large sky spread wide before her, and it was so deep and blue, and Souko wondered if this was how it looked the day she was born — the day her parents decided to name her after the saddest of all colors.

Although Souko had stopped finding blue as sad as she used to. Now when she thought of blue, she thought of the way Reiko used to say her name so gently, of the blue candy in her palm, of the blue flowers she saw in a dream that she couldn’t remember.

The blue of Souko.

From here, she could also see the barren garden — in the end, she hadn’t been able to plant anything there. She closed her eyes, slowly, and tried to picture the colorful flowers she would’ve liked to put there, the ones she wished she could’ve shown to Reiko.

As her mind drifted away, she heard someone crying.

A gentle voice, from a gentle presence.

Souko smiled, because she knew that presence; it was the same person — the same creature — that had kept her company all this time, while she was waiting for a girl she loved that would never come.

Like with her father, she wished she could comfort them, but nothing came to her mind.

However, as she kept straying farther and farther away from reality, a sight suddenly opened up to her eyes.

She’s in a meadow.

A flower field with blue, blue, blue petals everywhere — fluttering, dancing, as far as the eye can see.

And here, in the middle of the blue flowers, all alone, is her forest girl.

Tears wells up in Souko’s eyes, but she smiles, big and wide — and do the one thing she wishes she could’ve done months ago: she calls out her name.

“Reiko.”

The girl she loves turns around, and as her green eyes melt upon recognition, she has the most beautiful and genuine smile Souko has ever seen.

All the colors of the sky, of the forest and of the meadow gets reflected in her long silver hair, and blue has never looked so joyful.

* * *

Note: The first time I read those chapters, I didn’t even realize that Soranome implied Souko died at the end until someone pointed it out, and I can’t stop thinking about how terribly sad it is. I suppose one could argue maybe Souko just moved at the end and that’s why she stopped coming, but it doesn’t seem likely with the way Soranome phrased it. At least with Reiko, there’s a chance she was loved and happy for a while with the grandfather and then with her daughter afterwards, even if she still ended up losing them at the end. But Souko never got that chance. I only take comfort with the idea she had a loving family who took care of her. (And yes, if anyone’s wondering, I decided she was raised by a single father as a parallel to Tanuma.) But it’s also terrible there seems to be some implications that if Reiko had stayed then Souko wouldn’t have died, given it seemed to be the youkai of the forest that amplified her illness (much like how Tanuma has gotten healthier since meeting Natsume).

I went back and forth about the idea of Souko cutting ties with her classmates in the aftermath of her losing Reiko, because that also felt a little mean to her, but I honestly think she wouldn’t have tolerated anyone speaking badly of Reiko and would feel guilty for listening to the rumors.

I want to try writing something else less sad about them, but truthfully I really love the tragedy of their story haha. Still, maybe I’ll give them a silly little happy ending one day.

[lunasohma]

chomp!

[ ao3 / ff.net ]

Filming a Halloween special has taken over Natori’s dreamscape.

—

"How would you like to be trapped in eternity with me?"

"…Trapped, you say."

"Well, I'm trapped. But if we were together, wouldn't that be better?"

It is far too late at night for this.

"Now, what do you say?" Seiji’s fingertips start to smoke where he’s holding the doorframe.

Shuuichi brushes them away none too gently and shuts the door firmly.

He hasn't invited that eye-patched creature of the night in, and right now, it's going to stay that way.

—

Being stalked by a vampire is more of a chore than anything else. He’ll conveniently forget his parasol (again? really?) to bully Shuuichi for his hat. Then all the while, he’ll grumble about its unfashionable qualities.

“Just give it back already.”

“Trying to get rid of me?”

Shuuichi scoffs. “If only. I know it’s not so bad.”

For Seiji, it seems that the sun is but an inconvenience. But he does have a special sunblock. He often forgets that too.

“How nice. You do notice things about me.” Smugly as ever.

He tries again. “So, can I have my—”

And another thing:

Shuuichi watches his hat take off through the sky, carried away by a bat.

After the first few times, the novelty has worn off. But it’s still kind of amazing.

—

“Who let you in here?”

“Not telling.” Seiji’s smile is as sharp as a knife. Shuuichi had to turn around to see it. The fact of the mirror is especially disconcerting.

“But I’ll have to send them something nice. What do you think? Flowers? Sweets?”

“I’ll burn them.”

“A threat?” He sounds far too delighted at the prospect.

“If you’d like.” Because he’s curious.

“You know what I’d really like…” Seiji leans into his space, crowding him against the vanity. Shuuichi steels himself. Seiji’s fingers brush his throat—whisper-soft, though the cold still bites.

“Won’t you join me?”

Outside, someone calls for him.

“I can’t.”

“You’re no fun.” He steps back and Shuuichi feels his heart rate return to normal.

But Seiji’s smile is one of self-satisfaction, as if he knows it’s only a matter of time before his victory is assured.

Would it be so bad? The thought worms its way into Shuuichi’s mind. He can’t quite shake it out.

He locks Seiji in the dressing room. It’s only temporary. After all, a locked room is nothing to a vampire.

.

.

.

“What a fevered mind you have, Shuuichi.”

“…Quiet, you.”

“Of course, I am more than happy to make your dreams come true,” Seiji purrs. His teeth—were his canines always so sharp?—find Shuuichi’s jugular to a resounding yelp.

And then, well—

Matters progress.

[a-book-scarfing-goblin]

Just finished the fanfic part of my writing challenge with a Natsume Yuujincho fic on AO3.

There is also a Frieren fic, Edogawa Ranpo fic, Bocchi thé Rock! fic, and Ryunosuke Akutagawa fic

[liquidsaints]

the rhythm in your heart pairing: tanunatsu word count: 2.2k happy holidays @natsuni-ghostmoon !! this is my gift for you for the @natsume-ss <3 i hope you like it!

Natsume and Tanuma help a youkai find their flute on a snowy winter night.

read on ao3

[dragon-in-a-mug]

To Be Worthy Of The Title

Heya, @drunk-nyanko! I'm your secret santa for @natsume-ss. I wish you a happy new year and I hope you enjoy your gift!

Summary: Natsume's first year with the Fujiwaras and how others perceive their family - or 4+1 times people call the Fujiwaras Natsume's parents

Additional: mention of Natsume's childhood, slight emotional hurt/comfort, misunderstandings

1.

Natsume had become a staple in their friend group surprisingly fast. When they first discovered that the mysterious, aloft boy was actually just a painfully awkward teenager, with next to no experiences in the friendship department, they didn't really have another choice, but to socially adopt him and show him what it was like to have real friends. It was basically the law!

They hadn't had Natsume for long, but it was already hard to imagine how it would be again without him there, if he would leave again. Not that any of them expect him to leave. It was very unlikely after all.

Something Satoru had picked up fast on was that Natsume had a hard time with the concept of acceptance. But because Natsume couldn't be simple for the life of him, even his problems had to be extra complicated.

Because on the one hand, Natsume was one of the sweetest and most kindhearted people Satoru had ever met. He was always nice to everyone, even if they were being anything but pleasant in return and he was oh-so forgiving to people who, in Satoru's humble opinion, really didn't deserve it.

But on other hand, as soon as someone showed Natsume even the slightest bits of care or kindness he would look at them with his wide, weirdly cat-like eyes, that invoked the immediate need in Satoru to punish every single person who had ever wronged his friend in any way. Of course, Natsume probably wouldn't approve of it, that loveable bastard.

To be honest, sometimes Satoru got the feeling that Natsume thought he didn't deserve any warm-hearted behavior towards himself. It was weird. Especially because Natsume was living with the Fujiwaras, two more of the warmest and sincerest people Satoru ever had the fortune of meeting. Even with those two Natsume had the issue of receiving their kindness without having any strings attached.

There was an instance, not too long after Tanuma had joined their friend group. Himself, Atsushi, Sasada, Tanuma and of course Natsume where walking home from school, chatting. The conversation had moved to the weekend.

"We should do something together!", Satoru exclaimed excitedly, whirling around to face the others.

Atsushi nodded along. "Yeah, that'd be fun. But we are not going fishing again!" At that Satoru started pouting.

"You know, fishing is not the only thing I do. I'm able to suggest other things."

"Oh really?", countered Atsushi with a teasing smile. He answered with an indignant squawk and hurled himself at his friend, clinging to his shoulder. Atsushi was only able to stay upright because of his life long experiences with Satoru's antics.

"A-chan, why are you always so mean to meeee?", whined Satoru. The prompt reply "Because you deserve it." was only followed by more whining. Atsushi just snorted and pushed his friend's face away, which only led to him tightening his grip on Atsushi's arm.

Sasada, who was walking behind the two boys, let out a long suffering sigh. "What did I do to deserve this?", she mumbeld, head turned up as if to ask the heavens. Then, before one of the others could make a remark, she perked back up again.

"Oh, I heard their is a nice art exhibit in the next town over! We could go there for the weekend." She eagerly clapped her hand together, smiling brightly.

Satoru let go of Atsushi's arm to turn around. "Sasada, noooo! That sounds educational. I don't wanna learn stuff on the weekend," he moaned in agony as if Sasada was actively torturing him. Next to him, Atsushi just shook his head, mirth dancing in his eyes, but Sasada wrinkled her forehead and glared at him. She huffed annoyed before she turned around, to look at Natsume and Tanuma, who were walking behind her, watching the exchange with amused smiles.

"I'm sure Natsume and Tanuma would love to go to that exhibition, am I right?"

"Ah, sorry, I actually don't have time this weekend. I already told my father I would help him clean the temple," Tanuma said apologetically. Natsume nodded along. "Me neither. I promised Touko-san I would go shopping with her. I'm sorry." They both looked sheepish into the round.

Satoru waved them off with a grin. "If you really wanted to go and you'd ask, I'm sure your dad and your mom," he pointed at the two boys in front of him respectively, "would let you. Just sad that art exhibits suck and no one wants to go there." He wanted to triumphantly stick his tongue out at Sasada, but he was interrupted in his actions by loud coughing. Because when he had called Touko Fujiwara Natsume's mom the other had choked on his own spit.

The whole group came to a stop, the others were looking at Natsume worriedly and Tanuma was rubbing his back, while the boy himself was trying to reign in his coughing fit. Satoru wasn't sure what, but he was positive that he had done something wrong. When Natsume was able to breathe normally again, he turned towards Satoru. As soon as those light brown eyes met his own, he felt immense guilt crawling up his body and settling in his chest. Natsume's face was beet red (Satoru had never seen so much colour on the boy's pale cheeks, not even when he caught one of his worser fevers) and his eyes were slightly wet from the exertion of the coughing. And oh, the expression in those eyes. Satoru almost flinched back when he was faced with the sheer panic and distress in Natsume's expression.

"My mom?!", Natsume repeated, his voice more a wheeze, than anything else. Satoru cocked his head to the side. That was the big problem? "I mean yeah? Fujiwara-san is basically your mom, isn't she?", he asked confused. Natsume shied away at his words, faintly curling into himself.

Now Satoru was officially lost. He looked to his other friends for help, but all he got in return was Tanuma, who gave him a weirdly pitying face and an angry glare from Sasada, who sharply shook her head at him, to signal him to stop talking. Then, she softened her expression and turned back to Natsume and spoke to him in a gentle voice. "It's alright if you two are already busy this weekend. We can postpone the visit to the exhibit. Let's go home for now, okay? We can talk about it more tomorrow," she steered the conversation away from any upsetting topics. Natsume just nodded, still looking slightly dazed.

Next to Satoru, Atsushi put his hand on his friend's shoulder and gently turned him around. With that their procession started moving again, but this time it was uncomfortably quiet. Satoru wanted to break the silence so badly. He felt responsible for it, even though he was still not really sure what he did. His hands fidgeted with the strap of his school bag when he was pulled out of his musings by Atsushi lightly squeezing his shoulder. He looked up to his best friend, who gave him a reassuring smile, before leaning in a bit. "It's gonna be okay. No one is mad at you. I just think you overwhelmed Natsume. I think he's not ready for the m- or the d-word. Don't beat yourself up about it. Give him some time before you talk to him and then everything will go back to normal, you'll see," Atsushi whispered comfortingly and gave his shoulder a final squeeze before letting go.

Satoru risked a quick look back at where Natsume was walking between Sasada and Tanuma. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, his eyes distant. It made Satoru's gut twist.

It was hard to forget that Natsume grew up constantly on the move, being passed from one relative to the next like some used toy, having nowhere to settle down, no one able or willing to provide him with a permanent home in which he'd be supplied with unconditional love and acceptance. It was hard to forget, but it happened, like in this instance and Satoru felt all the more guilty for it. He wanted to immediately turn around, hug the boy and apologize and then, just for good measure, assure him that the Fujiwaras loved him very much, even he could see it clear as day, so Natsume shouldn't even think about doubting it. But of course Atsushi was right. Satoru had to give Natsume some time to think. He could right his wrongs tomorrow.

An inaudible sigh left his lips when their ways home separated. He timidly bid his friends farewell and, though the mood was still subdued, the others waved their goodbyes as well, except Natsume who seemed to be knee-deep in his own thoughts. Ah well, Satoru would get his chance tomorrow.

The next day Satoru would apologize for having said something that had made Natsume feel uncomfortable and Natsume would in return apologize for his reaction. After that, they wouldn't speak of the incident again, unless it was Natsume who brought it up.

It was still way too early for Natsume to use them, Satoru supposed, but hopefully his dear friend would soon grow to find comfort in those words as much as in the people, who would, Satoru had no doubt about it, love to earn the honor of being called parents.

2.

Things during his current exorcist job had gone a bit south and of course Natsume had gotten himself involved in it yet again. In the end, everything had worked out just fine, but Shuuichi could definitely do without the constant near heart attacks he experienced, whenever his young friend got tangled up in his work.

Shuuichi sighed as he looked at the boy, who sat in the train seat opposite to his own, double checking that he was alright and hadn't gotten injured. Of course, he had already looked Natsume over as soon as they had finished sealing away a particularly nasty yokai, but sometimes Shuuichi thought the boy was able to get in trouble the second he looked away.

Natsume was looking out the window, but turned his head to face him when he felt Shuuichi's eyes on him. They stared at each other for a bit before Shuuichi had to blink. He had no idea how Natsume did that. His unblinking gaze was almost as bad as his useless bodyguard's. Though Shuuichi wasn't even sure that the pig cat needed to blink. It was a bit unnerving at times. He was snapped back to attention by the sound of Natsume's voice.

"Is something wrong, Natori-san?" Shuuichi couldn't help but smile at that. Natsume always showed more concern for others than for himself. It was an admirable trait, especially for people like them, but Shuuichi worried. He was always worried about his friend even if he wasn't able to show it in the way he wanted.

Natsume had lived through so many hardships already and he was still so young. They shared quite a lot of childhood experiences. Both had grown up shunned by their family because of their sight, but despite all that, where Shuuichi had become bitter and disillusioned, Natsume had gotten to be understanding and compassionate.

The simple truth was that Natsume was a genuinely good person, who deserved nothing less but the world. Natsume was certainly better than Shuuichi and significantly better than all the other exorcists combined. Shuuichi was amazed by his strength time and time again. Not only his physical strength, but also his mental strength.

When he was out with Natsume, the boy made him want to do better, to be a person that he could trust in when he struggled with something. He hoped that no one would ever be able to break Natsume's bright spirit and he sure as hell didn't want to become the person who dragged him down and poisoned his pure soul. So he tried his best. For his friend.

Of course, Natsume had something that Shuuichi had never had the luck of getting. Natsume had the Fujiwaras. They didn't know of many of the struggles their foster son was facing on a daily basis, sure, but they were patient and determined to not give up on him so easily.

At first, Shuuichi wasn't sure if their relationship would be durable. Natsume didn't tell them about the yokai and for people, who didn't know about them, some of the things that happened to those with the gift (or curse, depending on how you want to view it) of being able to see the supernatural were just too weird, too unexplainable, just too much.

People often don't like what they don't understand. Not the Fujiwaras. They were always there for Natsume. Obviously they wanted to ask him questions when he came back home to them, again with dirty clothes and all scratched up, but they never pressed him for answers because his comfort and his trust in them was far more important to the Fujiwaras.

Shuuichi was thankful for them. Just like he had told him, Shuuichi would have taken Natsume as his ward in a heartbeat, but he was glad that the Fujiwaras had proven themselves to be such caring people.

They could provide Natsume with the stability and the understanding he deserved. It was clear that they loved him like their own flesh and blood, as if he was their biological child.

Shuuichi shook his head to bring himself out of his thoughts.

"No, everything's fine, Natsume-kun," he finally answered the question. "I just hope your parents don't mind if you come home so late," Shuuichi added, more to himself than to Natsume. At the mention of the word "parent", Natsume had turned an interesting shade of red. The exorcist watched fascinated as the blush crept up the ears and down the neck, as his friend's mouth started opening and closing like that of a carp out of water.

"They're not… I mean… I… they… my parents…" Natsume turned into a sputtering mess, not able to bring out a single coherent sentence. Shuuichi still understood what the boy wanted to tell him. His face became indescribably soft as he watched his young friend struggle with his emotions and thoughts. It was an expression that was pretty much reserved for Natsume, even though he'd probably never admit that, especially if that damned cat was around to hear it.

Shuuichi was quite familiar with the tactic Natsume was using right now, hidden between his stuttered words and burning red face. Denial. Squashing down any feelings of hope to prevent the possibility of disappointment. He had done that plenty himself when he was younger, before he had grown to be more confident in himself and his abilities. After all, there was nothing more dissuading than repeatedly getting your hopes crushed and blown into your face. So, Shuuichi understood what Natsume was doing. He understood so well. His smile turned a little sad.

Then, when he got his facial features back under control, Shuuichi finally took mercy on the boy. He lazily waved his hand like he wanted to shoo away Natsume's thoughts. "Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Anyways, you think Fujiwara-san will try to force feed me again, to gain some weight, when I stay for dinner?" he asked, changing the topic in the process. It wasn't very smooth, but Natsume looked thankful for his efforts nonetheless and immediately jumped onto the new topic. Shuuichi could feel two green cat eyes boring into him, but he didn't pay them any mind.

"Definitely. I think she doesn't believe that you can sufficiently feed yourself. In her defense, you really should eat more," Natsume huffed out exasperatedly. Shuuichi scoffed. "You're on to talk, bean pole." His witty reply was answered with a light kick to his shin. Their small squabble continued for the rest of the train ride and Shuuichi was happy to see that Natsume was able to relax again.

Shuuichi understood that Natsume didn't want to get his hopes up, but he also knew that the Fujiwaras would never let Natsume fall. They were different. They'd do anything to lift him up so he could spread his wings and take flight. Shuuichi only hoped that Natsume would be able to see that the Fujiwaras were there to stay and would be there for him for as long as he would let them. All in due time, the exorcist presumed, as he watched his kind friend, talk about his kind parents.

3.

Natsume sneezed. Hinoe laughed. Natsume glared. Hinoe laughed some more.

"Stop laughing, Hinoe. That could've happened to anyone," Natsume grumbled, wringing out the ends of his shirt. It wasn't dripping wet anymore, but still way too wet to be comfortable. Lucky for him, the weather was still warm and would help him dry quickly.

Madara snorted. "I'd say it was something very Natsume-typical. No one else would be capable of falling into a river in such a stupid manner. Congratulations, Natsume, you're uniquely dense!", jibed the beast, grinning like the cat who got the cream. Quite literally. Natsume glowered at him, muttering about a useless bodyguard.

Hinoe raised her hand to her mouth to at least try and hide some of her amusement, but she just couldn't contain her mirthful giggles. Oh well, nothing to be done about it. Natsume sneezed again. Then again. He looked so much like a drowned rat, Hinoe was actually feeling bad for him. She lowered her hands, her laughter now contained, but a smile still present on her face, though it was more fond than mean-spirited.

"Don't look so grumpy. It doesn't suit that handsome face of yours," she complained, as she draped herself over Natsume's frame. It was a bit uncomfortable to do so while walking, but Hinoe was consequent in her decision to use him as a body rest. Now that she was closer, she could smell the river water in his limp hair and feel the wet clothes hanging from his thin form. There was also something else.

Natsume briefly swatted at her hand as she brushed a few damp strands from his forehead, but ultimately let her pass. She put her hand on his forehead to get a reading on his temperature. It was unusually caring of her. The temperature didn't seem to be off, at most a bit warmer than normal. She breathed out an inaudible sigh before she ruffled Natsume's hair back in his face and retracted her hand. Then she straightened back up so that they were walking next to each other again.

Normally, keeping someone warm with your own body temperature would be beneficial to ward off sickness, but unfortunately Hinoe couldn't do that for him because yokai were naturally cold to the touch. All she could do was make sure that Natsume got home as quickly as possible.

"I hope you're not planning to get sick again?", she asked chidingly. Natsume smiled softly at her while shaking his head. "Don't worry, Hinoe. I don't intend to get sick," he assured her. "Good." She nodded approvingly as if Natsume's sheer will power would actually be enough to prevent any sickness.

"I heard human parents don't like it when their children get sick and start fussing over them, isn't that right, Madara?" Hinoe turned towards the other yokai,but instead of looking at her, his sharp eyes were trained on the boy, looking for or maybe waiting for something to happen. Although she had no idea what that could be. "You're correct. Our dear Natsume over there isn't too keen on having people fret over him, though," he answered, not looking away from Natsume.

Natsume looked thoughtful, eyes glued to the dirt path they were walking on. "Hm, yeah, I wouldn't want Shigeru-san and Touko-san to worry about me. They already do that too often," he muttered, a tender expression forming on his face. You could practically feel the positive emotions radiating off of Natsume, as he thought about the people who took him in.

To be honest, Hinoe had often thought about spiriting Natsume away, to become a part of Yatsuhara forest, where he wouldn't be troubled by human burdens. She had already lost Reiko, a peculiarity between humans, who was treated like less than dirt by her own kind, but ended up meaning the world to her. She didn't want to fail this child, who looked so much like her, but was so different in character, that carried a flame in him that was bright and soothing and oh-so pure. It was nothing like Reiko's lively fire that roared in her chest, yet it was just as beautiful and worthy of protection.

Hinoe didn't trust in humans. Yokai usually don't. However, when she looked at the Fujiwaras and saw them interact with Natsume, all she could see was sheer, unadulterated love. Natsume had found a good home, full of warmth, that Hinoe could never give him in the same way they could. It didn't make her sad. It only made her happy, that that special little human boy, who's heart was too big for his own good, had found a family

4.

Something was going to happen. Madara could feel it in the tips of his whiskers. There was a certain nervousness in the air, surrounding the people in the house like the static of an old tube tv. But there was also something else. Beneath the heavy blanket of anxiety was also a thin sheen of excitement, wanting to break through the uncertainty in a way like flowers in early spring attempting to break through the snow. All these waves of emotions were coming from the same source. That source being the Fujiwaras.

The whirl of emotion was starting to get to Madara, which meant it was absolutely eating Natsume alive. The boy was constantly on edge, his eyes wandering, his gaze calculating. For the past few days he hadn't seemed to be able to relax, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It irritated Madara.

He was used to Natsume's odd quirks, especially his own brand of nervousness, which came from being bothered by yokai his whole life, but currently his weirdness was reaching new heights, that would almost make Madara worry if he weren't so emotionally constipated. The whole "I'm only with you because of the Book Of Friends" drama.

He'd rather swear of sake than admit that he worried about that stupid human who somehow managed to always get himself in the worst predicaments possible, where he ended up needing to be saved from the great and generous Madara. Natsume was truly ridiculous in everything he did.

He was getting carried away. The only important thing right now was that the other occupants of the house were being stressed out by something and although he shouldn't care, Madara could already see himself biting the bullet and trying to get to the bottom of this. Even though he kept telling himself it was only because their stress was making him antsy, but deep down he knew it was because he truly cared about them, but again he'd rather die than tell them that.

That's how Madara found himself on his way to Natsume's room. When he got there, he waddled through the door before he closed it behind him. Natsume was sitting at his desk. He was looking out the window while worrying at his lower lip, not even noticing Madara's entrance.

"Oi, Natsume, stop daydreaming," he complained. Natsume's head snapped around so fast it was almost giving Madara whiplash just from watching.

"Oh, I didn't hear you coming in, Sensei," he remarked, still a bit absent. An annoyed huff left Madara. "Really? I couldn't tell," was his snarky reply. But Natsume didn't pay any heed to his tone. Instead he turned his head back towards the window, lip between his teeth again.

Madara trudged over to the boy and slapped at his knee, claws carefully retracted so they wouldn't get stuck in the fabric of the pants.

"Hey, what are you doing?", Natsume protested, pulling the assaulted knee out of the fat cat's reach. The slap hadn't been hard, just enough to sting a little. Madara rolled his eyes at Natsume's dramatic reaction, then he glared up at the boy.

"Stop chewing on your lip," he ordered. "If you keep it up, you'll break skin and bleed all over your shirt and I know for a fact that you don't want to bother Touko because of a bloody shirt. Which is for the best, because she'll start on dinner soon and I don't want her getting distracted."

Natsume finally released his lip. When Touko was mentioned, he grimaced slightly, a look in his eyes that Madara couldn't fully decipher. At the last sentence, it was Natsume's turn to roll his eyes. He waved the beast off.

" Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. "You're right, I wouldn't want to bother Touko-san."

Madara studied Natsume intently. The boy's posture was drawn in, his eyes somewhat vacant. In lieu of biting his lips, he was absentmindedly pulling on his fingers. His face wasn't expressionless, it was just that Madara had a hard time reading the emotions behind him.

That didn't happen often. Normally, Madara was quite good at seeing through the other. But despite all that, he could still tell that there was something weighing down the boy, which led him back to the reason why he entered the room in the first place. Now, how to go about this? Indirect? Delicate? Nah, he'd just be direct, determined the beast. It wouldn't make any sense to dance around the topic.

"What's up with you guys anyway?", Madara finally asked. Natsume blinked at him. "Huh?", he replied confused, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. "What do you mean?" At that Madara groaned, displeased that he had to further explain himself. "I mean," he answered, "why are you all so tense, you and your parents?" At his question, Natsume flinched back violently, as if he'd been hit square in the face, which was coupled with a pained expression, as though he had actually been struck. Madara looked at him surprised. What the hell got into him? Was he missing something here?

"D-Don't call them that!" Natsume's voice sounded near hysterical as his words came out louder than expected. He was looking at everything but Madara as he nervously picked at his hand.

Madara curiously raised one eyebrow. He hadn't expected such a negative reaction, considering he had the feeling that Natsume was warming up to the term "parents". Not that Madara cared or paid close attention to it, of course! But it was still noticeable that Natsume's response right now was much stronger than the last time Madara witnessed someone calling the Fujiwaras his parents. How odd. Madara shook his head, refocusing.

"Whatever. You and the Fujiwaras then. What's the matter with you? Why is everyone in this house (except me, of course) a bundle of nerves?", he questioned as he tried to catch Natsume's gaze. Natsume met his eyes for a few seconds before he wasn't able to withstand Madara's scrutinizing and had to avert his eyes again. The boy shrugged.

"I don't know. It's probably just work and school stress. I haven't really noticed a change in atmosphere though," he told Madara. A clear lie, but Madara wasn't sure what Natsume was trying to accomplish with it. There wasn't any reason why he should feel the need to keep anything like that secret. It was nothing life threatening after all, more an inconvenience for Madara than anything else. Knowing Natsume, it was probably for a stupid reason. Most things Natsume did were done for one stupid reason or another. 'I have to help them because nobody else can', 'It was the right thing to do' or something along those lines. It almost always ended with Madara having to pull off some kind of rescue.

Before he could call the boy out for his lie, Shigeru's voice sounded up from downstairs, asking Natsume to help him carry something. Natsume immediately shot up from his desk, more or less bolting out of the room, probably incredibly glad to be able to escape their conversation so easily.

Madara huffed. What a brat. He'd get to the bottom of this, if Natsume wanted or not. It was likely that the boy's nervousness was caused by the jittery Fujiwaras. The problem at hand may have something to do with the whole parent thing, though Madara wasn't sure what the actual issue with that was. Though, that also didn't explain why Touko and Shigeru were so high-strung all of a sudden. Despite his efforts to come up with an answer, there were just some puzzle pieces missing and without them Madara wouldn't be able to see the whole picture.

He let out a long sigh. All his pondering would lead to nothing right now, decided Madara. Instead he would conserve his strengths and chance a look into the kitchen to see if Touko had already started on dinner. Maybe he could get some scraps if he waited patiently enough. Touko was amazing like that. While he walked back downstairs his mind briefly wandered back to Natsume. He could distantly hear Shigeru and the boy somewhere further inside the house.

Madara just hoped that the Fujiwaras would be able to regain their nerves and at the same time quell some of Natsume's fears. They seemed to be quite good at that. Like parents.

They wanted to pass him on, Takashi just knew it. He wouldn't even be able to be mad at them. It was what everyone did, after all. They had also lasted astonishingly long. He had gained so much, thanks to them. In the one year they had spent together, he had been able to make incredible friends, learn more about his family, had found himself a purpose and most of all, he had found a place with them that felt so much like he imagined home to feel like. It reminded him of his dad and their porch.

+1

But of course, it was all too good to be true. Natsume knew that everything good was temporary, never long-lasting. Not for him at least. It always came to an end, most of the time sooner rather than later. And now the time had come. The Fujiwaras were going to pass him on to someone else. Maybe he'd end up in an orphanage next? Takashi was pretty sure he had run out of distant relatives. He'd have to wait for his answer even if not for long. Touko-san and Shigeru-san had told him that they wanted to talk about something important during dinner.

That's how it went most of the time. Takashi would hear his relatives talking on the phone, complaining about him and asking, sometimes even begging, the person on the other side to take him, to free them of the curse that was Natsume Takashi. There weren't any phone calls this time, at least none that Takashi had overheard, but there were other signs that his time with the only people, who had actually wanted him, was running out.

An unease permeated the house like a foul smell, whispered conversations that stopped when he entered the room and all the looks that were being sent his way as if they were already trying to gauge his reaction to the upcoming news. All that was proof enough for him, that his days in this cosy little house were numbered.

Takashi only wondered what the final straw was, that broke the camel's back. Maybe it was one ripped trouser too much? One lost pencil case too many? Maybe it was his fragility and the constant bouts of sickness? Or maybe it was his overall weirdness that drove them away? Him staring at nothing with an intense gaze, yelling at empty air, reacting to invisible forces, he could see how all that could become too much quickly.

In the end, it didn't matter. Takashi had long accepted that he was bound to a life of never-ending movement, with nowhere to settle down and grow roots. Why should it be different now? Sure, his stay with the Fujiwaras was the longest he ever had until then, but that only meant that the departure would be that much more painful this time.

Because for the first time in his life, since his parents died, he wanted nothing more than to stay, to bask in the warmth of the people and the places he had learned to call his home for just a little longer and then some. But he wouldn't dare to be this selfish. He didn't want to force himself on those kind people. That simply wouldn't be fair to them. Takashi would take whatever fate the Fujiwaras decided on for him with open arms as a final farewell gift from them to him.

When dinner rolled around Takashi was completely on edge. He swallowed thickly. The time had come. The impending conversation hung over him like a heavy storm cloud, waiting to hail down on him.

They started eating, but Takashi could barely force anything down. He constantly threw looks up at the adults, but neither of them said anything, not noticing his rising trepidation. After a few moments, he couldn't stay quiet any longer.

"Y-You wanted to talk to me about something?", he blurted out, barely able to suppress the shaking of his voice. They both looked up at him with their typical soft expressions, but Takashi could also see apprehension and unease in their eyes. At that view, his insides started to painfully twist together. Shigeru smiled reassuringly at him. "How about we talk after dinner?", he suggested. Takashi could only nod in agreement, paired with a small "Okay". Getting out anything more felt like a herculean task, so he gave up on it.

After that, dinner was pure torture for Takashi, but he tried really hard to not let it show on his face. He could only hope he was being successful at it. Shigeru-san and Touko-san were chatting like usual, asking him questions from time to time, but despite his best efforts, his replies were monotonous and brief. If they noticed, they didn't mention it and to be honest, Takashi was glad about that. He forced his food down, everything tasting like cardboard in his mouth (although he was sure it actually tasted amazing, just like always), ignored Nyanko-sensei's eyes attempting to burn holes into his skin from under the table and desperately tried to not fall apart right where he sat. He'd say he'd managed alright.

When they eventually finished their dinner, Takashi could have wept, if it was because of sheer relieve, that he would finally be able to get this conversation over with or if it was due to overwhelming heartache because he didn't want them to tell him, what he already knew, that he was too much for them and they wanted him out of their house, he couldn't tell.

After they had cleared the table, they returned to their seats. Takashi watched the two adults through his lashes, not capable to meet their gazes head on. He watched Touko-san fidget with her sleeve and listened to Shigeru-san lightly tapping at the desk. None of them seemed to be willing to break the silence.

Then Touko-san finally worked up the courage and shattered the tense silence with the clearing of her throat. Her hands let go of her sleeves and one of them slipped under the table, presumably so that she could hold Shigeru-san's hand. Takashi wished he could have that kind of comfort right now. At that moment Nyanko-sensei jumped up on his lap, kneading his legs before settling down. The pressure of Sensei's round body was grounding and Takashi didn't hesitate to encircle the cat-like creature with his arms. He gave Nyanko-sensei a thankful smile, however shaky it may have looked. His bodyguard blinked slowly at him. That was more than enough for Takashi. It gave him the strength to look up at his still-foster-parents.

Takashi would never be truly ready to hear whatever earth shattering words these kind people had for him. He just hoped they wouldn't try to justify their decisions. Most of his other relatives did that, when they told him someone else was going to take him in. He hated it when they did that. It always made his bones itch and his skin crawl. The justifications were never for his sake. Their sole purpose was to make his former guardians feel better about themselves. Not that he took offense at that. Takashi was well aware that it was hard work to take care of him, that's why he never protested when it was his time to move on.

He wouldn't make this hard for the Fujiwaras. They had already put up with so much for him. Takashi had also promised himself not to cry, even though he really wanted to right now. Tears would only make them feel guilty and he definitely didn't want to make them feel awkward or the need to console him over a decision that was more than valid.

Touko-san had seemingly found the right words to start their little conversation because she began talking. "Takashi-kun, you've been living with us for around a year now. A few weeks more and it's exactly one year," she started, shooting a quick look to her husband for reassurance. Shigeru-san smiled warmly at her before the pair looked back at Takashi, then Touko-san continued. "It was an amazing year with you. You filled this house, which always felt too big for just the two of us, with life and laughter and I want to thank you for that from the bottom of my heart." Next to her Shigeru-san nodded approvingly.

Takashi hugged Nyanko-sensei closer to him. He could feel the tell-tale pressure of tears slowly rising in his eyes, but he fought them down. It was so nice of them to say all that, but it made what was about to come feel even more cruel. He could already taste the 'but' that would now follow on his tongue and it tasted like blood in his mouth. He closed his eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And then everything came different. "You gave us so much," Shigeru-san picked up where his wife had left off. "You brought us so much happiness and let us explore a completely new kind of love, that we had never been fortunate enough to experience on our one. We don't know if we will ever be able to repay you for this kindness, but we thought it might be a good starting point to officially make you a part of this family. Not that you aren't already a part of this family, of course, but you know, in legal terms."

Takashi's eyes flew back open and he sat up ramrod straight, almost dislodging Nyanko-sensei from his place on his lap. His shock-wide eyes were racing back and forth between the two adults sitting in front of them. "What-?", was all he could choke out, his voice slightly raspy.

Touko-san smiled at him, her kind expression feeling just as warm to the skin as a hug, and reached out her arm, laying her hand, palm up, on the table top between them. Natsume losend one of his arms from the death grip he had on Sensei and shakily raised it. He stopped his hand inches before Touko-san's, as if he were afraid she'd rethink her decision and pull it back. When that didn't happen he slowly put his hand in her, which she grasped gingerly in return. Then she brought up her other hand that was still holding Shigeru-san's and placed them both on top of his hand.

Takashi stared at his enveloped hand, feeling the warmth of their hands seeping into him. It made him feel so safe. He moved his gaze back up to their faces when Touko-san started talking again. "If you'd allow us, we would like to adopt you, Takashi-kun," she said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze which was followed by another squeeze from Shigeru-san. Takashi stared at them, thunderstruck.

He understood what they had said, he knew what they meant, what they wanted to do, but something in his brain was just not clicking into place. They actually wanted him? They wanted to have him around? No, that couldn't be right. They wanted to pass him on to someone else. That's why they had been so nervous and stressed the last few weeks. Right?

Apparently he'd been quiet for too long because Shigeru-san chimed in again. "Of course we understand if you're not ready for that yet or don't want this at all. Neither would be an issue. We're still more than happy to foster you. Like I said earlier, you're already our child in every way that truly matters." At that he tapped the place of his chest where his heart was, before he moved on. "We just want you to think about it. You don't have to make a decision immediately. You have all the time in the world." Touko-san nodded vigorously and squeezed Takashi's hand again.

"Exactly! Take your time. Just do us the favor and consider it. We don't want you to feel as if we are trying to replace your parents. That is not our intention at all. We'd love to have official papers saying that you're our son, but we don't want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don't want to. Whatever you'll decide on, we'll always be here for you. Because we love you."

That was the end of the line for Takashi. He couldn't keep his tears at bay anymore and in the next moment they were already streaming down his face. It was weirdly similar to his first official meeting with the Fujiwaras when he was in the hospital after he fell off that cliff.

At the sight of his tears Touko-san and Shigeru-san had jumped up from their seats in alarm. They had already rushed towards him, now standing to either side of him, hovering worriedly over Takashi. He brought his now empty hand, on which he could still feel the warmth of their hands, and the other hand, that had previously held on tightly to Nyanko-sensei, up to his face to wipe at his eyes. His efforts to stem the tear flow were pretty fruitless, but that wasn't really a concern of his, at the moment.

"Are you alright, Takashi-kun? I'm sorry if we upset you," said Touko-san, concern and a hint of guilt lacing her voice. The Fujiwaras looked ready to fret over him, but they obviously didn't want to intrude in on his personal space.

A wet giggle left Takashi's lips, which quickly turned into soft laughter. He raised his head out of his hands and beamed up at Fujiwara Shigeru and Fujiwara Touko, the people who wanted him to be their son, who offered to become his parents.

"Yes," he chuckled, "I'm feeling more than alright." He heard a relieved sigh from the two adults.

Slowly his laughter died down, but the smile on his face was permanent. He watched his guardians. Their postures were now relaxed, their faces open and full of love. Takashi's heart swelled in his chest.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. Then he was ready. He looked down at Nyanko-sensei, who started purring, then at Shigeru-san and finally at Touko-san. His decision hadn't been a hard one to make.

Sometimes you just have to listen to the voice of your heart, no matter how frail it may sound or how loud your brain is yelling over it to abandon all hope, lest you get hurt. Right now Takashi's heart was singing and it was the most heavenly sound he'd ever heard, a sound telling him to trust, to settle down, to accept that he was loved.

New tears of happiness welled up in his eyes as he finally translated the song in his heart for everyone to hear. "If you want me, I'd love to get adopted by you, Touko-san, Shigeru-san. I want to become your… son." That word was foreign in his mouth, but it tasted oh-so sweet on his tongue. Takashi could definitely get used to it.

Then Touko-san suddenly barreled into his side, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him as close as possible, now tears of her own streaming down her face.

"You already are," she wept into his shoulder, sounding happier than he had ever heard her. Next Shigeru-san joined the hug, holding them in his strong arms while he as well had tears running down his cheeks. "We're so glad. Of course we want you. Our child," he whispered into Takashi's hair, his smile almost splitting his face in half.

They sat there for a long while, just hugging and crying and laughing (or in Nyanko-sensei's case, loudly purring). Neither of them wanted to let go, so they just basked in each other's presence. Of course, the adoption process would be a significantly longer one, but the first step was made. And oh, what a glorious step it was.

While being held by the two people, who were so kind and compassionate, who loved him unconditionally, Takashi thought maybe, the word "parents" didn't sound too bad. It would fit well in this house. His home. Together with his family. It definitely would fit snugly together with "son" and that was all that really mattered right now.

[bluntloyalist]

i post here when i smoke hence the url (´ー`)y▬ڪ

he/him. mid-20s. mentally unwell. insane about characters. if you absolutely must refer to me Loyal works ig

my tags

# themes # posts (my posts) # sketchy (my art) # plusloyal (additions to other people's posts) # chatty (interactions with other users) # [fandom tag] fic (specific fanfiction tag) # fic (general fanfiction tag) # fics (my fanfiction tag) # events (fandom writing events)

my AUs/fics

# end breaker [AU] # tsts (the spirit’s tender steel) [fic] # merfurin [AU/fic]

fandom tags (in approx. order of obsession)

# natsuyuu (natsume yuujinchou) # hoshiai no sora # vnc (vanitas no carte) # lockwood & co # omori # wind breaker # kn8 (kaiju no. 8)

inconsistent with triggers and character names sorry yall..doin me best 😔

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: The house has always been a little empty, a little too big for just the two of them. Touko had settled with the fact, and had moved on, mostly. She'd tend to her garden, take in any injured animal. But Shigeru knew, the two of them were longing for one more to fill in that empty space. And finally, Shigeru finds his sun, his son, in a distant city with almost strangers, and the shadow of a boy sitting in the corner of the garden. An exploration of how Shigeru sees his family, Takashi, and how he brought his family together.

Author: @enna-of-the-stars

[scribble-dee-doo]

At first he thinks it's just a cold. Touko-san catches him and sends him back to bed and underneath his embarrassment at being caught and worry about missing class (again) is something warm and fluttering, delicate but filling every crevasse of his heart.

Touko-san feeds him as promised, takes his temperature and gives him medicine and puts a cool cloth on his forehead, tells him to call if he needs anything, and goes about her day. He falls asleep, and when he wakes up again, the moon casting shadows across the floor, he knows something's off.

Being sick always dredges up memories, some enough to drive him to tears asleep or awake, but life with the Fujiwaras had made everything so much better that it usually didn't take long for him to find his equilibrium again. Loneliness and grief had a hard time taking root in a warm place carved out just for him, with Touko-san checking in every few hours and Shigeru-san humming as he did his work.

Even at night he's usually okay, but this time he wakes with a cavern in his chest that he feels is going to grow and grow until it devours every bit of light he's carefully hoarded away and leave him withered and empty like the shells of insects gathered in the corner of an abandoned room.

He takes a moment to surface from the drowning, choking emptiness, but then he knows something isn't normal and he casts his mind back for any clue that might tell him what to do.

He doesn't come up with much, no breaking seals or offended yokai or anyone coming for their name from the Book that he'd escaped or turned away. Nothing but normal interactions, seeing an old-fashioned kimono or too many eyes in a face in the crowd or bright darting shapes in the air, and one dark presence that flashed across his path on the way home.

There. That wasn't unusual, as yokai malevolent either through hatred or ignorance were by far the most common he encountered, and the small, scurrying ones that sometimes nipped at his heels or ran away with a hiss were the equivalent of stray cats. Like cats puffing up their fur to appear bigger, they radiated malice as they went, but in his experience the stronger the feeling the less likely they were to harm him. When yokai were that small, they could either spend their energy seeming harmful or doing harm.

Only the more powerful had enough strength to do both, and those were the ones that left him with fevers no human medicine could touch.

This aching pit behind his ribs is certainly the work of a yokai, but Nyanko-sensei isn't in the room and he feels like his joints are frozen stiff. He knows the temperature of his room when yokai aren't messing with it, and the cold biting into his fingers even under his duvet is unnatural.

It is dark, and cold, and silent, and he is alone in a way that he's almost forgotten and that only makes it so much worse. There is no one to ward off the silence ringing in his ears and the blackness pressing behind his eyelids or the hollowed-out aching empty space in his chest. He knows calling out, making trouble and noise, will only get him kicked out faster but he's so lonely and he has been for so long but no matter how he calls they all turn away and nobody hears –

Touko wakes with her heart hammering and a surety as deep as her bones that something is wrong. Sleep falls away like the frail threads of a spider's web when she sits up and she holds her breath in the dark, eyes wide open and straining her ears for any sign of what's wrong.

[owletstarlet]

the grand deeds of great men, the smallest of gestures

"My hero."

An (extremely late) request of sorts from @taizi for some solid nishi content, involving Tanuma putting those childhood karate lessons to good use. Established tanunatsu.

Ao3 link in the notes. 

“Your boyfriend,” Satoru announces without preamble, dragging Tanuma by their joined hands through the hotel room door, “is a badass.”

Natsume looks up sharply from where he and Atsushi are huddled over a pile of rumpled travel pamphlets on the bed. But it’s Taki who’s on her feet first, closing the distance to the door with a pinched look and taking the shopping bag out of Tanuma’s hand.

Satoru’s grinning. Tanuma is very much not.

But they’re both shaking.

Satoru doesn’t let go of Tanuma’s hand until Natsume’s there to take it. Atsushi’s there to grab Satoru by the shoulders, and the five of them shuffle back as one towards the beds.

Natsume doesn’t press for the explanation until they’re all seated, he and Taki pressed up against either side of Tanuma, their knees bumping up against Atsushi’s and Satoru’s in the narrow space between the two beds. The muttered question is probably more directed at Satoru than at Tanuma, because Tanuma’s gray-faced in the lamplight, gaze a little too wide, breaths coming a little too fast. Both Natsume’s hands are wrapped around Tanuma’s slack one, and on his other side Taki’s hands are gentle where they rub his back, but her keen eyes keep darting over to Satoru, expression tight with all the same concern. Satoru, for his part, is practically vibrating where he sits tucked against Atsushi’s side, from nerves or exhilaration or both, Atsushi can’t quite tell.

“He flipped a guy!” Satoru declares, with a wide one-handed swoop of a gesture at Tanuma, sounding positively giddy about it.

Well. Whatever Atsushi was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that.

“What,” Natsume says, blankly, at the same time that Taki says, “…wait.”

And then they’re all looking at Tanuma. Who very much looks like he’d rather not be looked at.

“It was the actual best thing I have ever seen,” Satoru says, nudging Tanuma’s knee with his own, and there’s something fierce and warm in his eyes. “And he thinks he’s gonna go to jail or something for it, which he’s not, because the guy deserved it, so that would be dumb.”

“What happened?” Atsushi blurts, now well and truly alarmed.

And he tells them.

They’re in Osaka for a long weekend, because Natori had invited them all along for some premiere of a new period piece that Satoru had been gushing about for months. Natsume’s not exactly ecstatic about attending the event itself, but he’s clearly happy that Satoru’s happy—Atsushi gathers that that’s whole point of this—and even if Natori himself is all booked up with press events for the majority of the weekend, it’s a chance for them all to explore the unfamiliar city together.

Not thirty minutes ago, Satoru and Tanuma had volunteered to make a combini run for snacks, only about two blocks from the hotel. But once they’d finished and were through the door, bags in hand, Tanuma had realized he’d forgotten to get the ice cream Taki had asked for. He’d gone back in to get it, while Satoru stayed out front to sip at the cocoa he’d bought. They hadn’t really paid any mind to the group milling about out front. Salarymen, by the looks of them, three or four younger guys in tidy suits with raucous voices and beers in hand. Satoru had been making his way to the bench near the entrance to wait, not quite looking where he was going, and he’d bumped into one of them, causing some of his beer to slosh over the lip of the can and onto the guy’s blazer sleeve. From his place in line Tanuma had heard it, the sharp “Oy!” and the rumbles of displeasure from man’s friends. Tanuma’s not sure what became of the ice cream he’d been holding—maybe he dropped it, maybe he shoved it into the hands of the customer beside him—but the next thing he knew he was out the door, wedging himself firmly between Satoru and the man who now had him by the arm.

“And then he just…bam!” Satoru mimes the motion, as though he’s grabbing something heavy with both hands from behind, and twisting it downwards in front of him. “Like. Grabbed him. And just. Flipped him! Guy went down beer and all, and he looked super confused about being on the ground all of a sudden. And it was amazing, and I had no idea he took karate before.”

And with that, three sets of startled eyes all land squarely on Tanuma. Natsume taps his knee, like he’s trying to break him away from whatever’s got its grip on him behind his own glassy gaze.

“Karate?” Taki looks, at first, gobsmacked by this piece of information. But it morphs into something like slow-breaking delight across her features.

Tanuma’s nod is a single, tight bob of the head. “Just, um.” It’s the first time he’s spoken since walking through the door, and his voice is a ghost of a thing, like it might get swallowed up by the stale air of the room. “Until I was twelve. On and off. I don’t remember much.”

“You remembered plenty,” Satoru tells him, tone banking no argument, before clasping his hands together dramatically. “My hero.” His grin is so wide and irresistibly cheesy that Tanuma looks up, just for a moment, with the barest twitch of his lips before his gaze drops back down towards the stretch of flowery pink carpet beneath their toes. Natsume shoots Satoru a grateful look, even as Atsushi finds himself doing the same to Tanuma. Somewhere, during the course of the story, he’d found himself squashed up impossibly close against Satoru, arm tucked firmly around his shoulders. He seems genuinely excited, not distressed, but against Atsushi’s side he still feels wound up tight as a coiled spring. It’s definitely not lost on Natsume, either, judging by the glance he gives Atsushi. Atsushi nudges Natsume’s foot—he’s okay, I got him—and Natsume nods, once, though his gaze lingers a moment longer on Satoru’s flushed, still-beaming face.

“So you’re afraid someone saw?” Atsushi asks, while Taki fishes out a tea bottle from the shopping bag, uncaps it and presses it into Tanuma’s hand.

Tanuma doesn’t answer, but that touch of a grin from before has twisted itself into something distinctly nauseated.

“If anyone did see, they’d know the dude was fine.” Satoru shrugs. “Also that he deserved it, remember. We ran, anyways.”

Natsume blinks. “You ran here?”

And Atsushi can’t help but see the comedy in that being what Natsume seizes on, considering the truly impressive amount of times Atsushi’s seen him tearing through town apropos of nothing like he’s got a swarm of invisible hornets on his tail.

“Yup,” Satoru says, brightly, tapping Tanuma’s knee. “Felt like an action movie.” A pause, before he tacks on, not unkindly, “Y’know, if you’re not gonna drink that tea, then I will.”

Tanuma blinks down at the tea bottle, which had tilted enough in his hand to nearly spill onto the scratchy comforter as though forgotten about. He manages a couple measured sips before letting Taki take it back and cap it.

Natsume squeezes Tanuma’s fingers in his own, looking unsettled. Taki looks thoughtful, idly tapping the bottle in her hands.

“Were you thinking they had a security camera out front or something?” she asks.

Tanuma says nothing.

Taki leans into his side. “You know, even if anyone watched the footage, it’s like Nishimura said. All they’d see is that man getting exactly what was coming to him,” she says, fervently.

“And you being cool as hell,” Satoru adds. “Seriously, they teach twelve-year-olds how to do that?”

The way his shoulders loosen, just a fraction, feels like a win. “I don’t…actually know?” he starts, squinting like he’s trying to recall. “I was in this class for high-schoolers at the time, because there were nothing else available in the town I lived in.” A shrug, a sheepish glance up and away. “Usually I was just partnered up with my teacher.”

“That actually sounds kind of brutal, though,” Atsushi says, curious now. “Did the teacher demonstrate take-downs and stuff on you?”

“She did, but. Really slowly,” Tanuma replies, and it’s as though the warmth of Natsume’s and Taki’s shoulders pressed up against his has started, though incrementally, to seep into his voice, his eyes. “And I never really got the hang of doing any of it back to her. I’m surprised that worked, earlier.”

Precisely none of this explanation seems to have made Satoru look any less starstruck. Atsushi has to hold back his snort. “You should totally pick it up again,” Satoru’s saying now, around a mouth full of the lemon ice pop Natsume had fished out of the shopping bag for him. “What color belt did you get up to?”

“Um.”

Just that half-second’s hesitation is long enough to put a loaded look into Natsume’s eyes, for him to slot their fingers together properly and squeeze.

Tanuma lets out a breath, and there’s something years-old and lonely clinging to the edges of his smile. Atsushi doubts he’s aware of it. “None.” He shrugs. “I didn’t pass the one exam I took. I got pneumonia that year and had to quit after that, so.”

He looks faintly embarrassed, now, and Satoru opens his mouth as though ready to nip that right in the bud, but Taki beats him to it.

“Tanuma,” she says, solemnly, turning around to face him. “You have got to teach me how you did that.”

***

By the time the polite-yet-firm call arrives from the front desk, indicating a noise complaint from their neighbors in the next room and forcing them all to call it a night, things are better.

By then, Tanuma had been goaded into demonstrating some unwieldy modified version the maneuver behind his earlier takedown, executed on a poor unsuspecting hotel pillow because the entire room had immediately nixed Satoru’s offer to be the human test dummy.

Now, Satoru and Taki are a boneless, lightly snoring tangle of limbs on the far bed, one of Satoru’s arms thrown over Natsume’s whale shark plushie. (A surprise gift from all of them, Taki’s idea, after they’d caught him eyeing it more than once in the aquarium gift shop yesterday. If he’d walked out of the aquarium clutching it to his chest just like he might’ve done with his fat cat, currently hundreds of kilometers away, none of them said a word about it.)

Natsume himself is dozing in the other bed, but he lies facing Satoru—and Satoru’s fine, he’s unharmed and happy and completely safe, he is. But for some reason the longer the night’s worn on, Atsushi’s had to remind himself of these facts more, not less. He knows the dark cast to Satoru’s slack wrist is the lamplight-shadow of his sweatshirt sleeve, knows because he checked.

Still.

Tanuma’s in the bath, now. And he seems, well. Better than he was, certainly. But Atsushi had seen the taut-lipped glances he’d stolen at Satoru, and he looks about the same way Atsushi feels. At least the unwelcome scenarios and possibilities unspooling in his own mind have got to be more vague than whatever Tanuma’s imagination was serving up. Tanuma had seen it. Had stopped it.

Let Satoru wave it off, insist ‘til he’s blue in the face that it was fine, all fine, that he hadn’t been in any real danger. If it would put his friends at ease, he’d have said the same with a smile on his face even if he’d just been robbed at knifepoint.

Atsushi really needs to stop thinking about this.

He’d heard Natsume earlier, voice whisper-gentle through the bathroom door after he’d led Tanuma in by the hand behind him. Satoru and Taki had drifted off by then. Atsushi couldn’t make out the words, and heard nothing at all from Tanuma, aside from a few isolated, stuttering breaths. Tanuma had re-emerged dazed, red-eyed, but calmer than Atsushi had seen him all evening.

When the door opens now, Tanuma steps out in a halo of steam, wet-haired and barefoot in an old t-shirt. Atsushi’s on his feet and halfway across the room before he’s even really aware of it, the change of clothes for his own bath forgotten at the foot of the bed.

Tanuma goes still, when Atsushi pulls him close. Atsushi almost lets go, but then he feels the tentative hands come up to rest on his back.

“Thank you,” Atsushi mutters into his shoulder.

“I—“

“No. Listen.” Atsushi pulls back, hands shifting to rest on his upper arms. And god but Tanuma looks exhausted. “You kept him safe,” Atsushi says. “And don’t try to tell me you didn’t, because you did. Thank you.”

Tanuma opens his mouth, closes it again, swallows. He says nothing for a long moment, but he doesn’t look away. Finally, “…sorry for freaking out.” He smiles as he says it, but his voice snags on the words. He swallows again.

“Hey.” Atsushi waits until Tanuma’s now-dropped gaze returns to him. “You don’t ever have to be sorry for that, okay? Not with us.”

A sound like an inhale, somehow sharp and shaky all at once, and then it’s Tanuma that’s pulling them together again. A steadying breath, in-out-in that ruffles Atsushi’s hair. Stillness.

“Okay,” he whispers.

***

If he does go to jail, it's Natori who'll have to bail him out :)

Sensei didn't come along because I like to think Hiiragi, Sasago and Urihime have been taking turns watching over Natsume, which is more than sufficient, except for when it's *not* Natsume himself who's getting into trouble--

Fun fact, according to the most current iteration of canon, Tanuma's taken judo in the past as well as karate, but the bulk of this was written before that chapter came out.

All credit to taizi for the nice hug idea--

[fandomsofhope]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8208160

Relationships: Gen/none

Characters: Natsume Takeshi, Fujiwara Touko, Fujiwara Shigeru, Nishimura Satou, Kitamoto Atsushi, Tanuma Kaname, Madada “Nyanko-Sensei,” Taki Tooru

Additional tags: Family Feels, Natsume being a sad orphan

Warnings: mention of deceased parents.

Summary: “Yeah!” Nishimura piped up. “Your dad, wasn’t he still… around for a bit. He musta taken some photos of you.” / Natsume frowned, “If he did I’ve never seen them…” / Natsume Week Day 2: Past/New Beginnings

Words: 5,172

My rating: 5/5

I’ve seen other versions of this idea but this is certainly the sweetest one I’ve read.

[connan-l]

Acidulous

Fandom: Natsume’s Book of Friends

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship: Tooru Taki/Jun Sasada

Summary: Tooru thought it was a good idea to use her extra oranges as a pretext to invite her crush over, until she found out said crush didn’t like them. [Femslash February 2021 Day 5: Orange]

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Link on Archive of Our Own

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Notes: Written for Femslash February 2021 Day 5: Orange, from those prompts.

I really wasn't much inspired with this one, but I dunno. I tried?

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The round fruits looked huge and shiny and juicy, and under the warm sun of the afternoon they almost seemed like big jewels.

Oranges weren’t Tooru’s favorite fruit, but even she couldn’t help but salivate while staring at them. Her neighbor, a sweet old lady with soft eyes who’d always taken good care of her since she was little, had told her she’d gotten extra oranges this summer and had came to give some to her. It was still a little too much for her alone though — as neither her parents nor her brother would be home before a while — but she couldn’t bring herself to refuse the woman’s kindhearted gift so she took them anyway, thinking she’d share some with her friends.

As she walked towards the kitchen, she considered calling Natsume and Tanuma, but suddenly another opportunity popped up in her mind: what if she invited the pretty class president Sasada? This would be a unique chance to see her with a good excuse!

It wasn’t like she and Sasada didn’t have much occasion to talk — they were pretty much friends, and Tooru had even invited her to her home a few times under some basic pretexts. But they still weren’t excessively close, not like she was to Natsume or Tanuma. Despite the fact it had been a while now since her youkai situation had been resolved, Tooru still struggled to get closer to others at school, or to  anyone  , really — she was fine with Natsume because he was  Natsume , and Tanuma was his close friend so they’d instantly gotten along without issues.

And that was quite a shame when Tooru might have developed sort of a crush on Sasada. She wasn’t sure why or how it happened, but somehow despite her bossy and serious exterior, Sasada had a very kind heart and Tooru liked hanging out with her and couldn’t help but feel attracted to her. It was quite funny, in a way, that she’d instantly felt comfortable inviting Sasada in her home despite the fact it took Natsume and Tanuma to accidentally stumbles on her house for her to finally make them enter the place.

In any case, eating oranges together didn’t seem so bad an excuse for once, so she’d called her and her friend showed up on her porch twenty minutes later in casual clothes, brown hair falling on her shoulders, blue hairpin in place and glasses straight on her nose. Tooru’s face instantly lit up and she smiled brightly at her.

“So what was that surprise you were talking about?” Sasada asked upon sitting down the table.

“It’s nothing much, really! But I wouldn’t be able to take care of it by myself, so…” She entered the room with her arms full with the oranges basket, a wide smile on her face. “Tada!”

She put her charge on the table proudly, but when she lifted her eyes on her friend her smile almost vanished instantly. Sasada was staring at the big, round fruits with a wary expression and… practically a grimace — a far cry from the cute, reserved smile Tooru had hoped for.

“S-Something’s wrong?” She asked with hesitation, wishing she hadn’t done anything to upset the other girl — she was still so bad at relationships, and her anxiety was already screaming at her that  of course  she was going to screw this one up and that it had been a bad idea to invite her in the first place—

“Uh, no, it’s just… I don’t like oranges.”

“Oh…”

Tooru sat down in front of Sasada, falling quiet. Somehow, it had been less worse than what she’d first thought, but now she felt really silly. The entire reason why she’d invited her was to eat those oranges, but if she didn’t like them, then…

“W-Why?” was the only thing her brain managed to come up with to dilute the weird tension.

“H-Huh? Um… uh, I don’t know, I just… I don’t like sour things…”

Tooru blinked at her, then couldn’t help but laugh, which got her a dubious glare from Sasada.

“Oranges aren’t all that sour, though! But, you don’t like bitter food? Somehow, it doesn’t fit your character.”

Sasada frowned in an unusual way — she frowned a lot at school, but this time she looked more flustered than angry or strict — and suddenly blushed at her comment. Cute.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Tooru giggled again. “It’s just, you’re always so sharp and mature. So I didn’t picture you not liking bitter things.”

“W-Well, that’s just how it is. I haven’t eaten oranges since I was six because of this.”

“Eh? You’ve only eaten it once when you were a child? That’s not good! Perhaps your tastes changed between then! You should try again.”

All while talking, Tooru took one of the oranges and started to peel it, her brow furrowing with concentration.

“Th-That’s not necessary,” she heard Sasada argue from in front of her. “I already know that I won’t like it—”

“But it was so long ago! You never know!”

Honestly, Tooru didn’t know why she insisted so much. It wasn’t like she cared about whether or not Sasada ate those oranges or not. But somehow seeing the girl getting so embarrassed over something like this made it worth it, in a way. At some point, it seemed Sasada had resigned herself to her fate, and she fell quiet while Tooru worked thoroughly on her orange. She was very careful to peel it properly, not making any smudges or scratches on the fruit, then cut it in small quarters properly. She even disposed the orange bits on a small plate in a circle before extending it to Sasada, a big, proud smile on her face.

“Here it is!”

Sasada narrowed her eyes and stared at the plate suspiciously, as if it was some kind of animal that was going to jump at her and attack her. But finally, a fond smile spread on her face as she looked up at Tooru and tentatively grabbed one of the quarters with a pout.

“You’re a strange one. I’m going to start thinking you have a grudge against me or something.”

“That’s not true!” Tooru replied cheerfully. “I actually like you.”

Sasada turned red at her declaration, her eyes widening, but upon seeing Tooru’s smile it seemed she took this as a lighthearted comment.

“All right… I’ll do this but just for you, then,” she declared before finally biting into the orange.

It wasn’t just a lighthearted comment though, as Tooru truly did like her. But she thought now was not yet the time to make such a big love confession.

For now, she just looked Sasada tastes the orange and make a grimace as the juice spread on her lips and that the both of them ended up laughing and laughing.

Sasada still hated oranges once their afternoon together came to an end, but Tooru thought it wasn’t that big of a deal, after all.