#i am most looking forward to natsuyuu | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uniformbravo · 11 months

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i have obtained ITEMS.......

so here's the rundown (short version):

1. BOY. SON BOY. IN MY POSSESSION. i fuckigng have him hes my son & hes REAL i can hold him in my hands right at this very moment waaaaaAAA i saw him on the shelf and yoinked him so fast aughgughgh....,.,.,..,, they had the two others in the set (a sensei and a little fox) but they were $15 each and i couldn't be dropping $45 like that 😭 but it's ok bc i got a fuckign real life natsume in my home i cannot fucking believe it HE'S SO CUTE. HE IS SO SMALL. SCREAMS

(kind of want to sculpt a tiny sensei for which to enplace beside him at his side..... right in the path of the leg that's abt to kick forward-)

2. BOOKE......... vol 22 of natsuyuu & holy shit what a GORGEOUS cover i wanna do a redraw of it so bad now that i FINALLY have it hsmgnsghj absolutely my fave cover in the series TBH. also this is a big deal bc it's one of the last few volumes i need to complete the series and it's SERIOUSLY hard to find rn (i will get into this more below but just know it's basically a miracle i have this 🙏)

3. ANIMORPHS WAAAAAA so the store i went to had a bunch of different shit including both manga & normal books (i see no difference love is love) so ofc i HAD to check the children's section and they had these two animorphs books for a few bucks each!! i honestly didn't really even pay attention to which ones they were beyond checking the numbers to make sure i didn't already have them but as soon as i got home i got a good look at them AND THEY ARE??? BOTH BANGERS????? YOOOOOOOOOO

#19 The Departure (butterfly book) is the one where cassie cheats death thru a bullshit morphing rules loophole and it's GREAT and oh yeah a lot of philosophical "see from the enemy's pov" gray morality stuff which goes so much harder than im making it sound.... it's always been one that stood out to me as a special one so i am Thrilled to have it

as for #33 The Illusion i fucken lost it when i recognized the cover IT'S THE BIRD TORTURE BOOK aka book where they are so so fucking mean to tobias #458283049 THEY ARE SO MEAN TO HIM LEAVE MY SON ALONE i love this book A LOT i cannot believe what these two books turned out to be w/o me even realizing it, and they were the only two animorphs books they had like??? god favors me

ok that was the short version now here's my saga:

SO FUNNY STORY LOL i've been rly into manga collecting videos on yt which frequently dip into manga shopping vlogs right. they go to stores & film the shelves & it's a lot of fun to see all the stuff they have but Most Importantly whenever they get to the N section my eyes ZOOM TF IN lookin for those natsuyuu spines bc i'm on the fuckin hunt and i'm obsessed i NEED to see what they have (which is why i always die inside whenever they skip over the entire naruto section bc natsuyuu is usually RIGHT after it and EVERYBODY MISSES IT slams fist on the ground)

the main thing i look for is volumes i don't have which is a dangerous game bc if i DID see smth i needed and was unable to obtain it i would simply perish and wither away on the spot because these last 3 volumes i need are SO IMPOSSIBLE TO FIND they are not ANYWHERE online except on ebay for like $150 which SUCKS so if i knew they were out there existing on a shelf completely out of my reach i wouldn't make it

anyway i was watchin a shopping vlog & this guy's like we're going to the book-off in this exact location and im like wowie that's near me maybe i should check it out sometime and he's like here's the manga section and im like 👁👁 bc ofc i am and it's not like he's showing every shelf in detail, doesn't even really look at the N section BUT what do i see with my Combat Trained Eagle Eyes

👀

(this is zoomed tf in on like the corner of the screen BUT IT'S VOLUME FUCKEN 22 BABEY DO U SEE IT UUAAHGH) (so bizarre to look at that screenshot now knowing that that book on the shelf is MY specific copy that i now own like god. i really did just reach into the screen and YOINK)

so i immediately check the video's upload date & it's only been a Week but also that portion of the video had been filmed a week prior to the rest of the footage and on top of that there's no telling how much time passed between filming and uploading so we have at LEAST 2 weeks definitely more on the docket so im like ooohhgh but also like i mentioned before. these books are fucken IMPOSSIBLE to find for a reasonable price online rn so i have absolutely nothing to lose ok

i call the place & ask abt it and they're like ya we have it forrr $7.99 and i scream in my head so so loud bc that's $2 below retail and like $75 below the asking price on ebay (some fucking goon is selling a goddamn raw unrestored library copy for over $80 hello?????? absolute clown behavior SMH meanwhile this below retail copy is in Wonderful condition it's BEAUTIFUL)

ik i said earlier that i was "nearby" the location in the video but that was a lie it's a fucking hour drive which is Small Price To Pay for Natsume's Book of Friends Vol 22 by Yuki Midorikawa in MY mind but since i don't drive i had to find someone who agreed w/ me lmfao. the store does not ship either to ur home or to a closer location so i had literally no other option and on top of that they only do same day holds on items, to stress out Me Specifically (joking tho they were so so nice. the person i spoke to was like "well this series doesn't sell v often and we've had it for a while, so there's a good chance it'll still be here whenever you can come out" like 😭 they didn't have to reassure me like that but they did and it helped me make it thru the week goddamnit)

so luckily i was able to get out there the very same weekend and like bro. they have so much shit it's a rly cool store... i believe they have new items but their whole thing is resale & second-hand stuff so u can find some rly neat stuff there... i spent so long in the merch section oh my god. they have this entire aisle that's just pins & buttons & charms and it's absolute madness, like This Shit (different location but same idea)

and good god u would not BELIEVE the sheer amt of ososan stuff they had there, i genuinely believe a flat 50% of it was just ososan AT LEAST (even in this pic i can see a kara on that second shelf there gksdngskdf 2nd to last row on the far right), i think i would have died if i'd gone there during the height of my obsession bc holy shit. why did they have so much osomatsu san. it was bananas (i might've gotten smth if i found one i liked but it was mostly like official art lookin stuff & that style doesn't rly appeal to me so rip. there were a LOT of karas & ichis tho)

anywayyyyy i shouldn't have spent so much time going thru all that but among the sea of buttons & pins were those rubber character charms here and there which i WAS interested in, specifically bc one of the kimi to boku sets i want so dearly is the rubber charms like LOOK at them.........

i am not only screaming & crying but ALSO throwing up LOOK AT THEMMMMM i would die for all 5 of them. anyway they didn't have any of em as far as i could see which wasn't that surprising since it's not a very well-known series but also i saw a million guys i'd never seen in my life in that section so IT WAS POSSIBLE..........

i wandered around the books section for a while bc i wasn't ready for the manga yet (busy aisle) & that's where i found the animorphs WHICH btw are in SUCH good condition like obvs the pages are yellowed but the covers & spines are clean af and both of the cover illustrations underneath are intact so i'm super happy abt that!! i looked around for a few other things just for fun, like they had a few deltora quest books, neither of the ones i need but it was still neat to see. o they also had a copy of wayward son (simon snow book 2) which was rly fun bc hey i know those guys!!! need to get back to reading their shit rly bad but uh u know!!!!! i will

the manga section wasn't super big, just like. one aisle, both sides. they had alphabetical markers to organize them but man things were pretty out of order within each section so i hope i didn't miss anything gskdnkfdg.... it's not like i was planning on buying a whole lot but i did have a list of things to keep an eye out for and if they happened to be a good price then,,,

i didn't find anything tho rip. i rly wanted to check out some japanese manga too but it didn't look like they had any so i was like oh well but fuckin. i'm SO mad at myself, the next morning i found out that APPARENTLY all the jpn manga's in the dollar outlet version of the store they had upstairs, which i KNEW existed but didn't end up checking out gjgaughagjsdgj i'd even thought about asking one of the employees if they had any but i DIDN't and now im DYING oh my god. i'll never be able to get out there again, not any time soon, this was like a One Time Thing i'm so OTL

(i was gonna look for like, natsuyuu fanbooks, some of midorikawa's other works, maybe some monthly magazines like the one natsuyuu gets published in if they even had that sort of thing.... oogh im lying down)

anyway i pretty much checked out after that, they had my book at the counter bc i had called ahead to place a hold JUST TO BE SAFE..... who knows how many other people watched that guy's video and paused obsessively over that one part bc they caught a glimpse of natsuyuu spines in the bg and spotted the elusive vol 22 sitting Right There for all the world to see and immediately started planning how to get out there asap before it disappeared like a dream evaporating into mist as soon as you wake up

anyway that's where the book shopping saga ends but the last magical thing that happened was the mall had a somisomi aka taiyaki babeeyyyyyyy (v exciting bc the one at my local mall is GONE) so i got some w the taro filling (taro my beloved) and it was THE BEST

somisomi's main thing is like, ice cream taiyaki (left) but i always just get the regular kind (right) bc hmnmgnhm i like the it

so that concludes my funny lil weekend trip, even if i missed the outlet store i still got some super gr8 stuff & i'm v happy about it ;v;

---

ok addendum (i didn't know where else to put this): i realized in the middle of writing this that getting the lil natsume meant i could actually fuckin update my myfigurecollection page for the first time since making an acct gkjgskndgkd so i did that but it was a CURSE bc I GUESS there's a new natsume figure that i didn't know about and it's SO FUCKING CUTE IM IN AGONY

HE'S SO CUTE AAAAAAHHGHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭 I'M HAVING AN ANEURYSM OOOOGHHHH HE'S WEARING THE HAT i adore that hat and his scarf & coat & the way he's stumbling? running?? AND SENSEI'S LIL OUTFIT STOPPPPPPPPPPPP my life is fucking over i cant take this goodbye. farewell. sora death noise.mp3

ok this is really the end thank u for ur time o)-<

#not me posting this now as if it just happened when it was actually last weekend💀#doesn't matter!!! it's never too late to be like hehe look what i got :)#retag later #today posts #ny blogging #animorphs blogging #ig im collecting animorphs now #not actively tho just whenever the opportunity arises #i got the first 10 minus a couple & visser a while back bc the library at my mom's work was gettin rid of em #so now im just like why not. it's another one of my fave series in the whole world sooo #plus i've been buying all the graphic novels on release sooooo #whatever happens happens

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bee-calm · 3 years

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Sighs. I am here again. That one anon who asked about jujutsu kaisen and the natsuyuu (I ended up putting them on my list of media to consume once I'm not busy!!!) Anywayz. Would you mind telling me what wonder egg priority is? Infodump all you want!!! I looked it up and all it said was something like "4 girls discover themselves <3" but I've heard it gets really intense and it deals with really serious issues like s//cide and s/lf h/rm and honestly I dont know what to expect. I hope you have a lovely day <3<3<3<3

aah hello again! im super happy to hear that you’re going to give them a chance- i hope you enjoy them once you get the time !!

and oh man.... wonder egg priority.... it really is one of those shows where i can truly say that no explanation i give will ever be able to do justice to the Actual plot, but i will do my best! tw for mentions of suicide in the explanation so ill be putting it under a read more

in simplest terms, it’s about a girl (ai) whose only friend commits suicide, and, after a series of events involving a talking bug, an abandoned arcade and a gacha machine full of eggs, she ends up on a mission to save enough girls from a strange, surreal dream world in order to bring her friend back to life. the other three girls in the main cast are all in a similar position of trying to bring a loved one back to life, while putting themselves in danger in order to do so.

most of the heavy topics come in bc ai is essentially saving girls from physical, monster-like manifestations of their trauma, which she needs to kill to (supposedly) bring back her friend. obviously the show only has three episodes so far, but up to now everything has been handled really well, and while it does cover a lot of heavy topics, it doesn’t do it in a way that’s just sort of meaningless drama for plot purposes, and i really respect that

i think the closest reference i can give to the vibes of the show is madoka- mainly just in the whole ‘surreal, borderline psychological horror dream world and battle mechanism’ thing it has going on- but that definitely doesn’t cover it fully, and nor does this explanation either hhdgdhd

basically its the sort of show that you just sort of. have to watch to properly get a grasp on whats going on- but its definitely not going to be for everyone with the sort of themes it covers. as of now the main things to be mindful of are: suicide, bullying, violence, slight body horror, self harm + references to abuse (really sorry if i missed something here aah)

i can definitely say that, even though it’s only three episodes in, wep is shaping up to be one of the most unique animes ive seen in a While, as well as having BRILLIANT character design both visually and in their personalities, and the setup for a really great dynamic between the main cast too. + not forgetting how stunning the animation and sound design is !!!

i genuinely cant recommend it enough- its become one of the things i most look forward to each week, which is pretty rare for a show that only has a few episodes out !!

#anonymous #letterbox #i kid you not i was literally thinking earlier 'oh i hope nobody ever asks me to explain what wep is'#bc its just. Unexplainable #nothing i could come up with will do it justice #but please believe me when i say that its so so good !!!

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lisatelramor · 6 years

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Ok, this wants to be something longer and if I manage to write more and finish what it wants to be, I’ll post it on AO3. In the meantime, this is for Natsume Yuujinchou week’s Youkai and humans/ species swap. So basically I took characters and Nyanko-sensei’s our protagonist as human along with Takashi as ayakashi. Not proof read, I just wanted to post SOMETHING for Natsuyuu week and this was as much as I could get done by today ^_^;;

Madara groaned as the train came to a stop at the station. Despite napping most of the way there, his hangover was just as strong as it had been that morning, leaving him with a pounding head and a vague nausea upsetting his gut. It had been a hell of a way to get kicked out of an apartment, but that’s why he’d been drinking in the first place. He told himself he wasn’t going to come back to this middle of nowhere town, but here he was, a decade and a half after leaving.

He left with just a suitcase full of clothes and a couple hundred yen in his pocket. He was coming back with even less, so what did that say about his life?

There was an ayakashi in the train station, lurking in the corner. The people coming and going avoided the spot on instinct leaving a meter of space around it in all directions. Madara avoided looking directly at it. Wasn’t his problem. Hell, it could start throwing the trash can and it still wouldn’t be his problem. He didn’t give a damn so long as it wasn’t trying to eat him.

Humid summer air hit like a brick after the air conditioned rail car. With it came the smell of green things and the stink of too many sweaty bodies crowded onto a train platform. He hadn’t missed this. Well, he corrected once he’d dragged his suitcase with him in a shortcut through the woods, he hadn’t missed it too much. There was a great big wide world out there and Madara had gone out and experienced it. There was so much more than a rural town full of backwards hicks that threw sticks and stones with their hurtful words.

He’d only stayed as long as he had back then because, well, he’d stayed that long because of reasons and those reasons hadn’t been there anymore.

He’d forgotten how many ayakashi were in the country though. Floating amid the tree branches. Hiding in underbrush. Lurking with teeth in the dark crevice of a rotted out tree trunk. When he was younger, it had been a problem. Now? Now Madara couldn’t give two shits. So long as he didn’t look and he kept a firm grasp on his powers, nothing would notice him and he could pretend he didn’t notice them, just like how it was supposed to be.

“Years,” Madara muttered, climbing out of a bush back onto a main road. “Years and this place looks exactly the same.” There was the post office. There was the road to the school. There was the house of that older lady that used to chase him off her lawn for picking persimmons she’d let rot on the tree. The green fruit were a long way off from being ripe right now, but Madara was willing to bet they’d still be rotting on the tree come November.

And speaking of things that hadn’t changed, the bar at the end of the street looked exactly how he remembered it, down to the hairline crack in one of the windowpanes and Hinoe’s precise handwriting on the signboard showing the daily specials.

Madara headed for the bar. He was making terrible life choices these days, why not make another?

It was dim inside, even though it was the middle of the damn day, because Hinoe’s bar had the atmosphere of a noir film with half the class. There were a couple people scattered in the corners of the room drinking their sad, pathetic lives away with whatever swill Hinoe served to the day-drinkers and perpetually drunk. Or maybe she’d changed that policy over the years. He kind of doubted that.

Hinoe was at the bar, idly flipping through a magazine and smoking a cigarette. The smoking was new. The magazine full of attractive women was not. Madara sat down at the bar, suitcase thumping against his legs, like it was a normal Tuesday afternoon and it hadn’t been over a decade since he’d stepped into her business. “Hey.”

Ash fell from the tip of the cigarette into an overloaded ashtray as Hinoe looked up. “Huh, well look what last night’s storm drug in. Madara. Long time no see. You look like hell.”

“You look the same as ever.” The same long hair tied up in a bun. The same too-dark makeup. The same bastardized kimono-style top with the sleeves tied back by some brightly patterned strip of cloth. If there weren’t deeper crow’s feet around her eyes, he could almost pretend he’d never left at all.

“I’m immortal, didn’t you know?” Hinoe said, grinning. “I thought you were never coming back. It’s been, what, ten years?”

“Fifteen,” Madara grunted.

“Right, right. I remember you saying something about leaving us losers all behind and finding your true greatness or some shit. Or was it that you’d prove that greatness to the world? How’d that go for you?” By her sly smile, she knew exactly how it went. He wouldn’t be here if his plans went the way they were supposed to and they both knew that.

“I went, I saw the world, the world witnessed me,” Madara said haughtily. “It couldn’t take my greatness so I magnanimously decided to return to share my glory with all of you again.”

“Uh huh. What’s the real story?”

“I went out into the world. The world wasn’t ready for my amazing person. So the world kicked my ass and now I’m living out of a suitcase.”

Hinoe blew a smoke ring. “Wow. Sucks to be you like usual.”

Madara sneered at her. She grinned back. She was a sad excuse for an almost friend and he definitely hadn’t missed her at all. “Speaking of living; my family home still there?”

“That piece of crap?” Hinoe raised an eyebrow. “The roof of that place collapsed two years back and the neighborhood health and safety group decided to tear it down. Since no one had lived there in over a decade anyway. Which, by the way, means the city reclaimed the land since no one was paying taxes for it.”

“They can do that?” Well shit, there went the last place he had to go. “Guess I really am living out of a suitcase now.” And he still had a hangover. Maybe he could get a pity drink from Hinoe. Hair of dog and all that. “Don’t suppose you’d lend a man a couch?”

“I don’t invite men over,” Hinoe said in the tone of voice that said she’d rather scrape gum off the bottom of all her tables than let Madara stay in her living room.

Harsh. “Right, you only invite pretty girls over,” Madara said, a cheap shot. Hinoe, being impervious to that sort of thing, flipped another page of her magazine. Madara scowled at the scuffed up bar top for a few conflicted moments. Thinking of Hinoe and pretty girls made him think of one thing. He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know if he was going to be in this town for a while. (Okay, he did want to know. He’d thought about it a lot over the years.) “And speaking of pretty girls,” he ground out, “how’s Reiko doing?”

Hinoe gave him a long, hard look before stabbing her burnt-out cigarette into the ashtray. “I don’t know, Madara. Haven’t seen her longer than I haven’t seen you. Not since you two got into a fight.”

“Not at all?” he asked. The semi-permanent scowl he’d had on his face since he got off the train turned to an expression of surprise. Reiko had run off on him after their fight, but Madara figured she was just mad at him. And when a month went by without her popping back up, he figured he’d finally run her off like everyone else, and left her in the dust with the whole shitty town. Reiko’d been the only reason to stick around and without her why keep trying in a place that hated you?

“Nope. No one’s seen her since then. Not even the poor souls she used to terrorize. I was pretty damn mad about it back then too. You somehow managed to scare the most perfect beauty out of town, you inconsiderate ass. She was a shining brightness on humanity!” Hinoe glared at him. Apparently she still was infatuated with Reiko even after all the years.

On humanity, Madara thought wryly. If Hinoe only knew. “I didn’t know she left for good. I thought she was just mad at me and ran off.” A mix of old anger and sadness filled him, along with a newer mix of relief and disappointment. Part of him hoped that he’d see her again. Part of him was terrified of if he did. Part of him still missed her terribly, but he would never admit that out loud, let alone to Hinoe.

“Well she ran off just as much as you it seems since no one has seen hide or hair of her since.”

“Huh.” This town had been her place for years. Why would she leave permanently? But then again, who knew what went on in the minds of spirits? She probably left on purpose just to mess with all of them one more time. The thought was a bitter one and his scowl came back even deeper than before. “Probably better that way.”

“For you or everyone else?” Hinoe asked.

Madara ignored the question. “Hey, Hinoe, you wouldn’t happen to have anything I could drink, would you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. What could I possibly have to drink at a bar?” Hinoe said with heavy sarcasm. “I don’t give out free booze, Madara so either cough up some money or you can have a glass of water.”

“Not even for old times? I’m broke and homeless.”

“Then wanting to get drunk is the least of your problems.” She set a glass of tap water in front of him.

Madara gave her sad eyes. She slid the glass a few centimeters forward. He took it and drank some because at least it would help some with the hangover. “You’re heartless, Hinoe.”

“Uh huh. Sure am. So heartless that I’ll even tell you old man Misuzu’s looking for help at the shrine. Since you’ll be needing a job.”

“I’d starve before I work for a priest,” Madara said, knocking back the water. “If you know of anyone else needing a hand, let me know, but you know Misuzu and I don’t get along.”

“That’s all on you.”

“Tell that to Misuzu.” No home, no Reiko, and no booze. There was no reason to keep hanging around here either. “Thanks for the news and water, Hinoe. I’ll be around.”

“Don’t die in a ditch.”

Madara waved and left. He’d have to find a job but Misuzu couldn’t be the only one in town looking for another set of hands. He could look for something tomorrow. Today, he’d swing by his old home and see if there was anything left at all he could salvage or make into a shelter. If not, he’d figure something out. He always got by somehow. He ignored the tiny niggling voice in his head that said his luck had been a lot better back when Reiko was still around. That voice was lies because clearly he’d managed to live almost half his life just fine without her.

It seemed there were more changes than he initially thought because when he went to take his old route home, there were buildings that didn’t used to be there and a construction site pulling up trees that used to stretch for almost a kilometer, right up to the back of his house. The buildings he could deal with, but the construction site meant he had to either go into deep woods—with all the spirits therein—or circle around town.

Madara dreaded running into someone that might remember him, so he chose the woods. Ten minutes in and he was regretting it.

There had been a kind of trail, like someone’s grandparent came all the time to collect herbs or firewood or something along this tiny, threading path. That path had gotten overgrown quickly, and then the underbrush kept getting caught on his suitcase and the humidity levels kept spiraling upward with oppressive July heat.

“This is hell,” he grumbled to the trees, definitely not to the tiny woods-spirit ducking away from him tromping through the undergrowth. “Sweaty, dehydrating hell.” The last time he went through woods like this had been years ago and he’d been running for his life at the time because he had slipped up and some power hungry ayakashi noticed his spirit energy and thought they’d use him as a tasty ticket to the top of the dung heap. He was better now at hiding so nothing was looking twice at him. Well, no more than anything with eyes would look at something disturbing their home. “I’ll find the house, find a stream, and hope the water doesn’t kill me with parasites.”

Up ahead was a bit of a clearing, a path to somewhere worn into the earth. He made toward it. He was almost halfway down a slope when the suitcase caught something and jerked his arm back. Trying to tug it free was enough to unbalance him, and next thing Madara knew he was tumbling and stumbling to an abrupt stop as he hit something with his shin, hard.

“Ow, shit!” He curled around his leg, achey all over, but only that a hot flare of pain. “No house, no money, no job, and now a broken leg!” He prodded it. It wasn’t actually broken but it was going to have one hell of a bruise later. Could the day get any...worse... There was a straw rope with white sealing charms ripped in half on the ground next to him. Either it had been half rotted through already, or he’d ripped through it when he fell. That didn’t really matter though. If that had been sealing something and he broke it...

There was a stirring of energy and Madara turned, realizing that what had stopped him was a small, run-down shrine, just big enough that he could have sat in the bottom of the structure with his knees tucked up against his chest.

“Shit.” He started hobbling away quickly. He didn’t have anything to seal it again on hand, and recently unsealed spirits tended to be angry as hell and not too picky about who or what they took it out on. “Shit shit shit.” Terrible luck was going strong for him today.

Behind him the tiny shrine door burst off its hinges, flying off somewhere into the woods and breaking a lot of underbrush in the process from the sound of it. Madara hobbled faster only to pause as he realized that the growing spirit power felt familiar. Too familiar.

He glanced over his shoulder in time to see a silver-haired body fall out of the cramped space like someone’s discarded rag doll. The color of the hair matched what his spirit senses were already saying. “Rei...ko?” he said into the sudden silence. No birds, no animals moving, just the building presence of spirit energy and a fragile-looking body sprawled on the ground. Who could have had the power to seal Reiko of all ayakashi?

Madara turned back toward her, drawn like metal to a magnet. “Reiko?” he said again. He reached out to touch and only years of ingrained fighting for his life kept him from losing an arm when the figure on the ground lashed out.

Raw spirit energy crackled between them, hot-bright, and his own rose to meet it on instinct, making what could have left a nasty burn fizzle and die in the air between them. “Reiko, it’s me! Madara!” Surely even after who the hell knew how long sealed in there she’d still recognize him. He left a bit more of his energy out into the air around them, hoping she’d recognize how he felt like he recognized her, but that was apparently the exact wrong thing to do as wild, green eyes snapped up in his direction and the unstable energy in the air doubled.

It was like a hand trying to squash him flat.

“Stay away!” she yelled. Only the voice was male. Young, pitched high with tension, but definitely male. If Madara didn’t know Reiko could shape shift...

“Look, I know we parted on bad terms, but I’m kind of concerned here.” Madara ignored the air pressure and moved closer. “How did you get sealed in there?”

Another bolt of energy almost took off his head, aimed just shy of his ear, or maybe not aimed at all. The concern turned to full blown worry. “Shit, Reiko, that could kill someone. I mean, I’m strong, but tone it down, would ya?”

“I’m not Reiko!” the silver haired—boy? Being?—yelled, arm back and ready to let loose another bolt of energy. “Get away or I’ll... or I’ll hurt you!”

“Real funny,” Madara said, gut twisting. “Good act, Reiko, almost fooled me. You can beat the shit out of me later in a proper spar, just...calm down okay?”

Madara stepped forward, reaching out and the ayakashi flinched back, green eyes going wide with fear.

Madara froze.

Reiko had the pride of ten men and would rather die than let someone see her afraid. “What the hell...?”

“I’m not...I’m not Reiko. I don’t know any Reiko. Please go away!”

“I’m not trying to hurt you.” Hands up, look defenseless. “I just unsealed you. I wouldn’t do that if I was going to hurt you right?”

There was a flicker of conflict in those green eyes before some kind of backbone showed through that fear. “I’m not going to make a contract.”

“I...don’t want one? I’m not an exorcist.” The boy relaxed slightly, but not enough, not so much that the air returned to normal. It felt so familiar... “Are you sure you’re not Reiko? Because you feel like her and this is just the sick kind of joke she’d play to get back at me for running off.” It had to be her. The longing ache in him that had never really gone away over the years rose up and Madara couldn’t help but reach out again. “Please tell me it’s a joke...” He touched a wisp of silvery hair and green eyes went impossibly wide, torn between fighting and getting as far away as possible. “Please.”

A snarl somewhere off in the near distance broke them from staring each other down. The boy flinched back and Madara’s hand was left touching open air. His hand closed on a fist as he realized he’d been projecting his energy for the last half a minute with the futile hope that the person in front of him would respond to it. Between the two of them, they were a beacon for any ayakashi wanting to test its power or grab a spiritually gifted human as a tasty snack. He snapped his control back down so fast that it hurt.

The boy looked dazed.

“We need to get out of here,” Madara said. “Either the local exorcist is going to wonder what the hell is going on or something’s going to come looking for a snack.”

“I’m not going with you. I don’t even know you.”

“Look, I was a friend of Reiko’s and I don’t know why you feel like her, but like hell am I letting some ayakashi or exorcist get you. So just trust me ok?” Madara held out a hand, palm up in offer.

The boy looked at it and looked at him, then gave a neutral smile that was so fake it was pathetic. “I think I’ll be fine.”

It would be less insulting if he’d slapped Madara’s hand away. “Suit yourself then. But you might want to calm down before everything from here to Tokyo knows where you are.”

The boy frowned and the pressure decreased to normal. Madara could still feel the ayakashi, but he wasn’t broadcasting his powers to the world anymore at least. That would have to be good enough. Madara made a show of looking around the area before stepping onto the trail.

“I’m going to take this back toward town; most people would expect a strong Ayakashi to run toward the mountains.” He turned and started walking, his limping gate evening out as he got used to the bruised leg. The suitcase was overturned at the base of the hill, but nothing had fallen out of it. Madara walked and didn’t look to see what the ayakashi did. Didn’t really have to because half a minute along the trail, he felt the boy start to follow.

Halfway down the trail the presence vanished. Either the boy left or he’d figured out how to mask himself properly, which was a good thing since Madara saw more than one ayakashi making its way toward where they’d been. He didn’t hear any fights though. He’d turn back in a heartbeat if it sounded like the boy was being eaten.

At least when he stumbled back out into the outskirts of town he was closer to his old home. Close enough that he just stayed on the side streets to get there. Well. Where home used to be. There wasn’t much left of what had once been the house his grandfather built. It hadn’t ever been a very nice house when Madara lived in it, all a bit falling apart even back then with Gramps either too drunk or too aching to fix things, and Madara either too young or too busy trying not to die from his own powers and unwanted spirit attention back then. But it had been home in its own way, familiar in its peeling paint and rickety steps. Now it was just a foundation left bare, all the rest of the building taken away.

“Shit.” His shoulders slumped. Part of him had really thought that there would be something. Something he could use, or at least something that matched what he remembered. Even the overgrown flower gardens had been torn up and overtaken by weeds. “Bet they sold Granny’s old rose bushes too.” Or maybe that weird guy that used to go by and pointedly say how they used to be so much nicer finally went and dug them up in some weird plant rescue operation. Who knew.

He didn’t really have human friends. Didn’t have many friends in general really, never had, and probably never would. Ordinarily that didn’t bother him, but it was frustrating not to have anyone to turn to. The only thing left were the few ayakashi he knew... Who might not even be in the area anymore either. Reiko had been the main one, and without her...

Well, there was one final avenue to pursue before he gave into despair and found a bush to sleep under until things sorted out. He didn’t really want to, but she did owe him.

“I’m too old for this.”

Any hydrating benefits of that water from the bar were long gone by the time he trudged back deep in the woods again. Here, at least, it didn’t change in any way except the way that nature does, trees growing higher, bushes coming and going, streams shifting minutely as the earth eroded with time. But the big white birch tree with its peeling bark still stuck out as an anomaly among the rest of this area of the forest. Here, he felt like he was twelve again and sneaking off in some childish act of rebellion.

There wasn’t anyone immediately visible at the base of the tree but that didn’t mean they weren’t nearby. Madara tossed down his suitcase and sat back on the familiar, moss covered roots. There was an ayakashi nearby. Maybe more than one if they were close together. He sighed. “Hey. Touru. I know you’re there.”

There was a pause. Then Madara had to flinch at the sudden spike in spirit energy right before an ayakashi all but fell into his lap.

“Fluffy-kun!” Touru shrieked, catching him in a crushing hug. His spine protested the action and he wheezed, unable to fend her off with his arms pinned. So, pretty much as usual with her. “You got old! Older!” She leaned back and tugged at Madara’s unkempt hair. “And less fluffy and more shaggy. It feels like it’s been a long time since I saw you. You’re not as cute as you used to be.”

“I would hope not!” Madara pushed her off his lap and she went willingly, smiling like it was a big game. Her cat ears didn’t even twitch at his volume. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“Aww, but you’re still cute,” she said. “Just a grumpy kind of cute. Though I guess you were kind of a grumpy kid too. Ah, yep, you’re scowling again! I’m so glad to see it. You’re still you. How long has it been?”

“Fifteen years.”

“Eh? That long? And you didn’t visit once? No wonder it felt like forever.”

He couldn’t tell, not with Touru and not with many other ayakashi, how sincere the enthusiasm or the sadness were. Ayakashi didn’t work the same way as humans. Time didn’t mean the same thing to them either. “Isn’t that amount of time like blink of an eye to you?”

“It could be,” Touru said. “But I’m not that old yet. I’m barely past a hundred; decades still mean something you know.”

But they would mean less and less. How little did time mean for spirits that were old, spirits like Reiko had been?

“I’ll take your word for it.” Right. He came here for a reason. “Touru, I know I am amazingly self-sufficient, but I am going to have to cash on one of those favors you owe me.”

“Ah, so not a social visit.” She looked a little sad and it made tendrils of guilt ping at him, but living was a bit more important than wondering how much he could or couldn’t hurt her feelings. The cheerful smile shifted to something more serious.

“No. Another time it will be. You still remember the sort of things humans need in a shelter, right?”

“Yes.” She tipped her head to one side. “I do still pay attention to humans, Fluffy-kun.”

“Right.” And she had a collection of human things somewhere, started by her grandfather who had studied them. Right up until his curiosity had been the death of him via an exorcist. Still, that curiosity had stuck with Touru and it had once gotten her into a lot of trouble too. She was an ayakashi that spent time with humans over the years so she should, theoretically, know what sort of thing to look for in finding Madara a place to stay. “Despite taking on the world with all my talents in the years since I left, at the moment everything I own is in that suitcase and I’m down a house. You know of anywhere I can make a home in until I earn enough money to get a proper roof over my head?”

“Hmm...” Touru tapped a finger alongside her chin. Behind her, her split tail tapped the ground in double-time. “Actually I’m pretty sure there’s an empty shrine in the woods right now you could use. It’s a little run down, but it has a roof and walls and enough space to sleep in. The one near the offshoot of the creek where that big willow tree is.”

“Touru, you’re amazing,” Madara said with conviction. “How empty are we talking?”

“The minor god that lived in it died a few months ago when his last follower passed away, and no one has moved in yet. I doubt anyone would object to you living in it.” Touru smiled.

Madara grinned back. Finally a bit of luck! To be expected from a maneki-neko. “I can think of a few humans who’d object but I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Touru mimed locking her lips like a child with a secret, not an action she’d learned from him. She must still watch humans when she wasn’t here at her tree. She glanced past Madara, into the woods, and on reflex he glanced with her, just catching a glint of silvery hair before its owner managed to hide again. Huh. So the boy had followed him after all. Whatever he was doing to stay hidden still made him impossible to sense.

“Is he with you?” she asked, curious.

“Not exactly. Feels like Reiko but says he’s not.”

“He feels human from here.”

A startling implication; only the strongest ayakashi could convincingly take human form. That was yet another thing the boy shared with Reiko. “Well he’s not human. I accidentally unsealed him earlier today.”

Touru gave him a worried, sideways look. Most ayakashi got sealed because they were a danger to humans, and ayakashi that were dangerous to humans had a funny way of attacking Madara a lot as a child.

“I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me, I just fell down a hill and got bruised up. As if some ayakashi could hurt me,” he said, arrogant smile on his face that he didn’t feel in his heart. “I told you, I’m not some little kid anymore.”

“You’ll always be that angry, fluffy little kid in my head, Madara,” Touru said, ruffing his hair like he was still twelve instead of almost forty. She used his name so rarely that it was surprising enough for him to forget to duck.

“Whatever,” Madara said, swatting her hands away as she giggled. “Thanks for the heads up on where to sleep; I’m going to go pass out there now. It’s been a long day. If you need a drinking buddy anytime in the future, I’m your guy.”

“This from the person who said sake tasted like shoe polish smelled?”

“Hey, a lot changes in fifteen years!”

Touru laughed and waved as he left. This time he was more aware of his light-haired shadow. Madara had been so conscious of ayakashi in the area he hadn’t been paying attention to more mundane sounds. So long as the ayakashi was pretending to be completely human, he was just as noisy as any other human teenager walking through the woods. Madara was still louder, but Madara was hauling a suitcase and felt like his arm was going to get torn off heaving it around, so he at least had an excuse for it.

***

The shrine was nothing much to look at. Flat paving stones surrounding it were overgrown with weeds, the door was crooked and coming off its track and there were signs that something had started building a nest inside of it. But it had a roof—overgrown with moss, but intact—and four walls, and the inside was dry. Madara couldn’t stand or lay fully stretched out in it, but it was big enough that he could curl into a comfortable position and there was a little well with water meant for purifications. There wasn’t a bit of spirit energy lingering in the shrine. The god that inhabited it must have been all but dead for a long time before it bit the dust.

Madara swept out the mess of leaves and fur and twigs that had accumulated, shooed off centipedes and beetles, and claimed that space for himself. He had a pillow and a couple blankets, and if he gathered up leaves or grass or something he could make it a bit more comfortable to sleep in. Probably. Provided that didn’t bring in fleas or ants or something. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and he didn’t have anywhere else to go. It was only until he had a job and enough cash to afford a few months’ rent for an apartment. It was summer; until then he’d manage and eat what he could scrounge up or beg off Hinoe.

The sun was sinking down and Madara’s stomach grumbled; it was a long time since that glass of water and longer still since he last had anything to eat. He was too tired to get up from the shrine floor and do something about it though. He’d just have to suck it up. There was still fat to burn from when life was still going pretty okay. He’d manage.

The world went dark. Out in the woods, fireflies lit up. Real or ayakashi, he couldn’t say. The pale green lights were pretty. You didn’t get fireflies in the city. Couldn’t see the stars either. Focus on the positives... Somewhere in the dark a fox yowled, eerie and hair-raising. A twig snapped in the woods to the right and for a second he could see the green reflection of eyes. Tapeta lucida, some far off portion of his brain that had looked it up once upon a time informed him. Reflecting moonlight. Madara tensed, senses reaching out for ayakashi, animals, anything. Nothing...no, something that felt human but—ah.

“You can come out,” Madara said to the dark woods. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Five...twelve...twenty, Madara counted firefly blinks, waiting.

Bushes rustled and parted. The boy that looked like Reiko stepped out of them. He looked like he would run at any second. He looked like he was lost. Madara felt very tired. “You can come closer. It’s not like I’m going to do anything. I just want to sleep.”

The boy crept closer. “She said you helped her,” he said, standing all hunched over and wary right outside the shrine steps. “From exorcists.”

Touru. Madara closed his eyes against the intent gaze picking him apart. “Yeah, I did. I was a child and idealistic and angry enough to do things for spite back then.”

“She called you caring but blunt.” The boy shuffled closer.

Madara’s eyes slit open, met his bright green stare.

“She said you don’t hurt ayakashi unless they hurt you first.”

Madara gave him a humorless smile. “Yeah. Most of the time. Touru thinks too well of me considering how I almost ended up being an exorcist.” The boy flinched back a little. Bad memories of exorcists, or a healthy fear of their threat. “I’m not nice. I’ve sealed ayakashi for hurting people before and I’d do it again, but mostly I just want to be left the hell alone, eat good food, and drink nice sake.” The boy didn’t look away. He didn’t run. “You look a hell of a lot like Reiko.”

“I’m not her,” the boy snapped. “Everyone is always Reiko, Reiko, but I’m not Reiko!”

“No,” Madara said heavily, “no, you’re not.” He wished it was just some mean joke Reiko was playing, but he didn’t think that was the case; she’d have swapped out her disguise and started bragging by now. “You got a name?”

Just like that the boy was tense again and Madara had to roll his eyes.

“I’m not going to steal your name. Or...force a contract. You don’t even have to give me a true one, just something to call you.”

There was a long pause, then, “Takashi.”

“Cool. Call me Madara.” Madara rolled over so his back was to the door. “Now either stop stalking me and go away or just get in here and let me sleep. Today’s been a hell of a day.”

“You won’t seal me?” Takashi said. “Or try to make me your shiki?”

“What the hell would I do with a shiki? I’m a bum camping out in an abandoned shrine. And so long as you don’t try to kill me I don’t give two shits about what you do. Try to off me in my sleep and sealing becomes a lot more likely.”

Farther off, the fox yowled again. There was a soft scuff of cloth on wood and the rattle of the door closing most of the way. The boy, Takashi, settled into a corner of the shrine, as far from Madara as the small space allowed. He was paranoid as hell for how strong he had to be.

There was a part of Madara that didn’t like having his back to an unknown ayakashi. At least that discomfort wasn’t one-sided. He closed his eyes and despite his misgivings, eventually he fell asleep. For the first time in years he dreamed of Reiko, her presence all around him, confident grin on her face and him looking up at her, beautiful, powerful, and untouchable.

Takashi wasn’t sure what he was doing here, curled up in a dead god’s shrine with a human. A human that could have been an exorcist with how strong his spirit powers felt in the brief moments he stopped shielding them. He’d called Takashi Reiko, just like so many others had before, but he hadn’t tried to hurt him for it, and he hadn’t tried to bind Takashi to his will like the exorcists had before they gave up and sealed him instead.

The man, Madara, was an anomaly and Takashi wasn’t sure where to categorize him yet, potential ally or enemy. For now, it wouldn’t hurt to keep track of him. There was something about him, something that was familiar in his spirit senses, like they’d met once a lifetime ago. The vague warmth that had flashed through him, that spark of recognition was gone as Madara snored, curled into a tight ball in the cramped space. Humans, ayakashi, neither made sense. Not this man, not the ayakashi who recounted the story of this man as a child saving her from an exorcist that bound her when she was researching humans, and not any of the others he had run into before in his brief span of memory. They hurt without provocation and lusted for power and would walk over you to get what they wanted without remorse.

Still, Madara had unsealed him, Touru had been kind, and Madara offered shelter instead of chasing him away. It meant something, something that Takashi didn’t understand yet.

He meant to stay awake, but little by little, he drifted off, feeling strangely safe with a sleeping stranger.

Takashi woke to muffled swearing. At some point in the night he had slumped to the ground. One of the blankets Madara had been using was draped over him, an unnecessary gesture but surprising in its kindness. The man in question was bent over his luggage, searching through it for something. Takashi stared.

“Stupid thing has to be in here, I packed it. I know I—” Madara cut off, either feeling Takashi’s stare or some other sense catching his attention. He whipped around fast enough to make Takashi flinch. “Oh. You’re awake. Uh. Just go ahead and go sleep as long as you want I’m just...” He jerked a hand at the warped door, still most of the way shut. Takashi kept staring. Madara’s hand dropped. He grabbed a pieces of cloth from the luggage and scooted to the door. “Breakfast. I’m going to find breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“Food. That you eat in the morning.”

Takeshi frowned. “Every morning?”

“Yes, if possible, every morning. Eating might be optional for most ayakashi, but humans don’t exactly live long if they don’t eat.” Madara rolled his eyes like it was something obvious. Maybe it was; Takashi was hardly an expert on humans. “You should try it sometime.”

“It seems impractical.”

“Impracti—” Madara sputtered and froze in the doorway. He jabbed a finger in Takashi’s direction. “You know what, I’m getting you breakfast too. If there are three things worth living for, it’s food, sake, and sleeping as much as you want. Nothing better than that.” He stomped out of the shrine and slammed the door behind him.

Takashi stared at the closed door. He could go back to sleep, sleep for longer than he’d been sealed if he wanted to. Or he could leave and follow Madara and the vague feeling of familiarity his presence pulled at his subconscious.

He followed Madara. Yesterday it took Madara ages to realize he was being followed. Today it took all of ten minutes before he turned around and glared in Takashi’s direction. Takashi almost flinched back into the middle of a bush.

“If you’re going to come, at least do it in the open!” Madara complained. “It’s creepy being stared at behind tree trunks. C’mere.” He beckoned imperiously.

Against all instincts telling him he should head back to the shrine or run for the hills, Takashi crept closer.

Madara pointed at a plant on the ground in front of him. Its leaves had jagged edges. “Look! Shiso. You can eat the leaves in a salad.” He proceeded to pluck a bunch and stuff them into a cloth object shaped a bit like a bag. “And that—” Madara pointed to bright purple blossoms of thistle where the trees were a bit thinner. “Azami. You can eat the leaves if you boil them a bit. I can’t find my pan though, so raw food it is for this morning.”

There was something weirdly familiar about what Madara pointed out as they walked through the woods; knowledge slotted into place like it was something Takashi already knew, but had forgotten.

“And of course there are always dandelions,” Madara said, pulling up new green leaves from the tenacious weed at the edge of a clearing. “You can always find dandelions. Bitter as hell, but better than nothing.”

“Purslane,” Takashi said, the name of another common weed popping into his head. There was some growing a bit further into the clearing, paddle-shaped leaves on a low-growing plant. “You can eat it raw or cooked.”

Madara stared at him for a moment and Takashi wondered if he’d remembered wrong. Then Madara huffed. “Right. It also tastes kind of gross, but it’s healthy.”

“Isn’t the point of food to taste good?”

“Not everyone has the luxury of being something that doesn’t require food,” Madara said. “Now pay attention! I’m teaching!” He grinned. “You should call me sensei.”

“Why would I do that?” Takashi complained. Madara wasn’t terrifying anymore; the more he talked, the more Takashi thought he just liked the sound of his own voice. He wasn’t terrible company even if he was kind of annoying.

“Because I’m teaching you life skills, brat! You never know when you might need to know this!”

Those words tripped something in Takashi’s memory. A woman and a small child in the woods and a handful of warabi, the fern stems still tight and new held close to her chest. It’s a life skill, brat! Takashi blinked and the feeling of being two places at once vanished, but the moment lingered, exasperated fondness tinging his emotions. How odd.

Madara had an eyebrow raised in challenge and his hands on his hips.

That echo of fondness swelled and for a moment Takashi could see Madara as something other than a potential threat, just a ragged man with a bit of an ego and a soft heart under a gruff exterior.

“Well?” Madara said.

“Nyanko-sensei,” Takashi decided on.

“Excuse me?!” He puffed up, just like an offended cat.

“Your eyes are gold like a cat’s,” Takashi said. And Touru’s nickname of ‘fluffy’ wasn’t wrong; he was a bit fluffy.

“Why is there a ‘ko’?!”

“It sounds better,” Takashi said, amused as the man sputtered and grumbled about ayakashi and demeaning nicknames.

“Fine!” Madara threw up his hands. “Whatever! Help me find something that isn’t god-awful bitter to make up for the rest of this.”

Takashi didn’t point out that he had no idea what to look for. He’d let Madara remember that on his own.

#natsume week #natsume yuujinchou #species swap #i hopefully will come back to this #i have like 10 wips at the moment tho #i want to look at a bunch of different human/ayakashi swaps in this universe #if anyone is curious takashi IS reiko reborn after something went wrong with an exorcist #debating about how a book of friends works in this au #reiko's diary?#she beat up ayakashi or a literal friend book to remember humans she's fond of?#People think takashi's madara's child #hinoe's devastated thinking reiko had a kid with madara or something #maotoba's an unsettling and powerful ayakashi with a grudge against humans and a weak spot from an exorcist encounter #said exorcist is the ayakashi that wants to eat him in canon and is TERRIFYING #and maybe had something to do with Reiko becoming Takashi #the real question is if Madara's family name should be Natsume #since ayakashi don't have family names #tanuma is the son of a minor local god who is a fairly frail spirit and v sensitive to exorcists #there are endless possibilities and my brain half wants to run off with them

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floweryfandomnerd · 6 years

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Shattered Glass

Tess here’s that Natsuyuu fic I promised you ages ago! Just in time to kick off your new year.

Summary: Natsume Takashi has never liked the sight of shattered glass, and it’s an accident that he drops them. But the sight scares him and he runs away from it.

Pairings: None

Word Count: 3234 Touko always hangs the laundry on warm, sunny days. She always sings as she clips sheets to the line, stopping to talk to the old crow that hangs around her outside in the yard. It is one of Takashi’s quieter pleasures to leave the window open and listen to and watch her as he does the dishes after dinner. Sometimes, often, the white crow is there too, although Touko never notices it, it always stays by the side of her friend. He has, of course, learned that the crow is a spirit. He once saw it take the form of a young woman with black hair and a pure white dress, milky white skin and dark eyes. Like him, she simply sits watching Touko with a fond smile as she pets the crow. Takashi’s mind always seems to wander when he watches the spirit, he wonders her name. Or if when he dies, will he become a spirit like her? He’s always seen many animal spirits, but come to think of it, never people. Never people, in a strange way, he’s glad for it.

Scrubbing the last dish clean, he gently places it on the drying rack. Picking up a tea towel and a plate, he starts to dry and stack them. Touko’s singing voice is old and wavering, but it fills the air around him and it doesn’t crack. It is high and sweet and calming. He has never heard the spirit sing before - not in the form of the young girl that it takes once again, maybe it knows he’s watching this time around - today, however, her voice sounds in a low hum, a melody that quietly runs underneath the familiar one. Takashi smiles for the quiet peacefulness that they unknowingly provide him with, absently letting his hands finish the chore. The counter is cluttered with the day’s plates and bowls and his arms are filled with glasses to put away in the cupboard.

Takashi startles, loud bang ringing in his ears. He jumps in surprise, glasses dropping from his arms.

They hit the ground, smashing and shattering everywhere. Shards spray up at him, tearing at his arms, thrown up in front of his face to protect it. He can’t help that it feels unsettlingly familiar, that he stumbles backwards at the sight of glass broken in front of his feet, that all the blood drains from his face. It reminds him of smashed bottles, not too uncommon in certain places of his childhood. Places that were never pleasant…

He wants to hide and disappear with the spirit that follows Touko to the doorway. Shigeru comes up behind her to investigate the commotion, footsteps like cracks of thunder to Takashi. Both are quiet, staring at him shaking on the floor and surrounded by glass. He wants to know if they’ll get mad, like other people have in the past. He wouldn’t blame them; he never blames them. His mouth opens but the words won’t come out of his mouth so he shuts it again.

Touko looks on at him in worry, he can see it painted in the creases of her forehead. He can see it on Shigeru’s face too.

“Takashi-kun, what happened? Are you okay?”

He doesn’t answer her, distracted by watching their eyes flicker between his arms and clothes and the shards surrounding him. When he looks down he sees the bleeding scratches that cover his arms and that half his clothes are ripped and torn.

“Takashi?” she asks again, stepping towards him, hand outstretched to him to help him up.

The hand doesn’t seem that way to Takashi, he keeps thinking of something different that a hand can do. He flinches as it comes closer to him. It makes him panic, not on purpose, but it terrifies him anyway. He scrambles up off the ground, runs in the opposite direction from them. They follow him, he can hear their footsteps even over the pounding of his own.

“Takashi, don’t run away!” Shigeru calls behind him.

He ignores both of them, turning a corner blindly on to an empty street. He’s always been a fast runner, always needed to be, he quickly finds that the sound of their footsteps behind him grow quieter. Fading as he gets further away from them. He’s vaguely aware of the yokai behind him, the white crow following him for whatever reason that he can’t name. He wishes that it would go away, leave him alone so that then he can be safe.

He keeps running, away from it and toward the forests paths that he walks with Sensei, not that they’ve ever been safe but he doesn’t pay any attention to where he’s going. Just somewhere that there are no people. The shade of the trees is cold, the ground uneven with tree roots and he has to weave between the thick foliage and brown trunks of trees. But the only signs of life are tweeting birds and rustling leaves and chirping crickets. No people… no people.

The tears falling from his eyes only come to mind when they blur his vision and he can no longer see where he’s going, doesn’t know where he can put his feet in the middle of the forest when tears distort everything. Takashi rubs at his eyes, not running anymore, just walking and letting his breathing calm down. Attempting to, even though his panting doesn’t slow down necessarily, instead becoming sobs that tear and claw at his chest, ripping away all of his oxygen.

They only stop as he stands on a protruding root, ankle twisting in a strange direction. It hurts and sends him slipping forward, he’s too slow to catch himself or do anything to change the direction that he falls in. His head spins on impact with the ground, throbbing with pain. He doesn’t try to get up afterwards, Takashi finds it easier to just close his eyes and block out the pain that way. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he’s tired, so tired. It’d be okay if he just slept, there are no people around - the only yokai following him is the crow spirit anyway, right? He drifts off completely with that thought in his mind.

* The air has cooled by the time he wakes up, though it still holds some of the summer’s heat. Takashi sits up, dull ache still in his ankle and his head but not quite so painful anymore. When he holds up his arm to block the light, he notices the bandages wrapped around both of his arms. He didn’t clean up his arms, he knows that, he’d slipped and just let himself fall asleep before he could have. They sting slightly when he rubs at them, he decides to ignore the itchy roughness of the bandages and leave his arms alone.

Misuzu’s deep voice grumbles nearby, “Ahh, Natsume-dono, you’re awake.”

He nods, “Yes Misuzu.”

Glancing around and seeing the Chuukyuu drinking like usual and the kappa not far off, he realises that the yokai have taken him to Yatsuhara. Hinoe stares at him chidingly as he fiddles with the bandages, puffing smoke from her favourite pipe, he figures that she must have been where they came from. The crow sits next to her, still watching him.

“How did I get here, Misuzu?”

“The crow brought you here,” Misuzu tells him, “Or more, brought me to you and I carried you here.” “Thank you, Misuzu.”

Misuzu scoffs quietly, muttering something along the lines of Natsume not needing to thank him, given that his name was still in the Book of Friends anyway. He doesn’t really think that that matters, it was still kind.

Takashi turns to face the crow, “Thank you, little crow,” he says to it.

It smiles but doesn’t speak back to him. Takashi half wishes she would, curious, perhaps, as to why it would help him. After all, the majority of spirits tried to kill him. Although, he already knew this one to be kinder than that.

Hinoe replies for her, “She can’t speak, you know, crows can only sing. But I get the feeling that she wants to say you’re welcome.”

He bows his head slightly, looking down at the ground, “Thank you for bandaging up my arms, Hinoe. I think I need to go back home now though. Touko-san and Shigeru-san will be worrying about me.”

Both yokai shake their heads at him, he doesn’t understand why. Not until he pushes himself up with his elbows and tries to put weight on his left ankle. It won’t support his weight at all, he winces and decides to sit back down in the grass.

“You sprained your ankle. You won’t be walking anywhere for a while and Misuzu can’t very well fly you back there without someone seeing. And knowing you, you wouldn’t be very comfortable with that.” Hinoe states it firmly, she leaves no room for his stubborn protests.

“Um, how am I supposed to get home then?” he asks with slight disbelief.

She stares at his face with furrowed brows for a moment, sighing irritably, “Fine, I’ll go find something to get the swelling down, stay there until I come back.”

He complies quietly, grateful that she’s even willing to help him.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, Hinoe. I’ll do a much better job than that lousy bodyguard of his ever does.” Misuzu reassures her.

Scowling, Takashi lets the insult to Sensei go. The sun is slowly setting above the trees, there’s nothing else for him to really do but watch it as the sky changes colours, blue melding into purples, pinks, oranges and reds. It’s pretty, but he wants to go home. More than anything, he wants to go home.

“Natsume! Where did you run off to?”

It’s Nishimura that calls out his name, searching for him.Takashi would recognise his most energetic friend’s voice anywhere. Of course, he thinks, Touko-san and Shigeru-san would ask his friends to help look for him. He’s caused so much trouble, he shouldn’t have run away, he didn’t even have a reason to run away. Kind, the Fujiwaras were kind. He breathes out a deep breath, he doesn’t need to ever be scared of them - because they’re kind. Two sets of footsteps wander a little closer to him, voices growing a little louder. (Kitamoto is looking with him, he realises.)

“I’m here!” he shouts back, hopes that they can hear them.

Quietly, what qualifies as quiet for Nishimura anyway, Takashi hears Nishimura whisper to Kitamoto, “Did you just hear that? I swear I heard Natsume!”

Kitamoto murmurs back, “Yeah I did, now if you just shush we might hear him again.”

“Nishimura, Kitamoto, in the clearing!” Takashi tells them, hopefully they’ll hurry up. He tugs the sleeves of his shirt over the bandages to hide them, they’d ask where they came from otherwise.

Seconds later, Takashi swears that it’s only seconds, the two boys appear in front of him, standing at the edge of clearing. When he spots him, Kitamoto’s figure visibly crumples with relief. Nishimura tackles him in a worried hug. Takashi hesitantly returns it for the moment that it lasts until Nishimura moves back, breaking contact. And Nishimura, of all people, starts to lecture him… He expected it to come from Kitamoto more than him.

“Do you want to tell us why you ran off stupidly, Natsume? Everyone was worried,” he glares at Takashi with his hands on hips.

Takashi swallows, shifts his eyes away slightly, “Not… not really. I’m sorry Nishimura, Kitamoto, I didn’t mean to worry you guys.”

Nishimura’s expression softens and his tone loses much of its earlier sharpness, “We know you didn’t mean to worry us. However, we’re your friends, and that’s what friends do.”

Kitamoto is far quieter when he chastises him, “It’s not a good idea to go running off, you know. But if you don’t want to tell us why, that’s fine. If you do want to though, you can rely on us,” he jabs his own chest with his thumb, “okay?”

Takashi nods, conceding and deciding to confide in them, (he decided to trust them a while ago anyway, didn’t he?) “I didn’t… exactly have the best childhood? Before I came to live with the Fujiwaras anyway…”

Both of his friends listen to his timid explanation with understanding, “I dropped some glasses and they shattered everywhere… It kind of reminded me of that, I guess. I got scared and ran away before I could think.”

Suddenly, Nishimura is hugging him again and Kitamoto is too, though neither of them say anything. Takashi’s grateful for that, he doesn’t know how he’d respond if they did. He knows the yokai are still around too, Misuzu still keeps an idle, cursory eye on them, but it’s more his ears that concerns Takashi. He tries not to let his face show it when Misuzu speaks.

“I think you’re doing much better than that childhood now, Natsume-dono.” The yokai casts a glance back in the direction of Takashi’s home, “You should get them to take you home now. I’ll tell Hinoe where you’ve gone.”

He nods subtly at Misuzu in acknowledgement. After another minute, Nishimura and Kitamoto stand up, Takashi looks up at them.

“Alright then, let’s go home,” Kitamoto all but orders them. He offers a hand to Takashi, brows furrowing when he doesn’t take it, “Natsume, if you’ve stayed out here this long because you were lost, you know we know the way back right?”

Takashi squirms just a little under his gaze, “Ahh it’s not that, I sprained my ankle. I can’t walk on it.”

Without saying a word, Nishimura squats down and Kitamoto slings Takashi’s right arm over his own shoulder to help him up. Bewildered, Takashi lets him guide him to Nishimura. He starts to protest when he realises that Nishimura is planning to carry him home, on his back. But any and all complaints die on his tongue when both make it clear that neither of them will listen. Arms firmly looped around his neck, Nishimura straightens with Takashi on his back, readjusts him slightly so that they can be more comfortable. Setting off, Kitamoto walks ahead of them a small way down the path, it feels as if he’s checking for any danger to Takashi. Though it feels absurd, even if there was any, it isn’t the kind that he’d be able to see. Still, the white crow walks alongside him, acting as though she were an invisible sentry.

He could fall asleep on Nishimura’s back easily, it’d be comfortable even with the bumping rhythm of his footsteps on the dirt path if it weren’t for the occasional stumble that kept him awake. It’s the quiet atmosphere that Takashi likes, warm breeze and for once nothing is chasing him. He’s used to the two of them being loud and boisterous, though Kitamoto is quieter without Nishimura. They’re never quite as quiet as this, Takashi thinks. Ringing in his pocket, Kitamoto’s phone interrupts their comfortable silence. He curses lowly and digs around to find it.

“Damn, I forgot to tell Tanuma and Taki, they must still be searching everywhere for you,” he says, glancing back at Takashi as he answers the call. Without giving them a chance to say anything, Kitamoto cuts the other end of the line off, “Don’t worry guys, we found him.”

Buzzes sound from the speaker of the phone, maybe not but that’s what Takashi hears, they trail off when Kitamoto tiredly speaks, “Yeah, yes he’s fine. He sprained his ankle but Satoru is giving him a piggyback so it’s okay.”

Increasing in pitch and volume, the buzzes seem to shout worriedly. Kitamoto sighs just a little annoyed, “No, you do not need to come help. Just go home you guys.”

He ends the call before they can say anything more, it’s not like there would be any point to them coming now, Takashi notes, they’re almost back to the Fujiwaras’ house. He half dreads what they’ll say when they arrive, he nervously fiddles with the bandages around his arms.

“Relax Natsume, they’re not mad, just worried, okay?” Sometimes Nishimura really was like a mind reader, he continues down the street, simple words remaining just as simple even when they’re only around the corner from his house.

Seeing his smile might have been more reassurance to Takashi, but the words are good enough. Exhaling slowly, Takashi calms himself and answers, “Okay,” as he watches Kitamoto knock on the door.

Creaking loudly, the door is flung open by an anxious Touko without a moment’s delay. Her face lights up happily at the sight of the three of them before she hastily schools it into that of an angry mother. It drops when she steps aside and sees how timid Takashi looks, when she finally notes that for some reason Takashi isn’t walking for himself. Nishimura walks through the door and into the living room, sets him carefully down on the couch. The crow yokai follows them into the room, electing to remain just inside the doorway. Kitamoto lingers in the hallway with Touko, Takashi isn’t sure what they talk about but they wind up in the same room a minute later.

“Takashi-kun! Don’t ever do that-” her scolding is interrupted when Shigeru bursts into the room.

He’s panting with his hands resting on his knees but he doesn’t stop to catch his breath, “I’ve looked all over town for him but I can’t find him.” Eyes scanning the room, he straightens upon sight of the three kids, “Oh, I guess they found him then.”

Facing the floor, Takashi keeps his eyes away from theirs, “I’m sorry for running away and worrying you both. I was just scared that you’d be mad that I broke them.”

Shigeru shakes his head at him and Touko crosses the room to crouch in front of him. She wipes away the tears from his eyes that he didn’t even know were falling as Kitamoto rubs soothing circles on his back.

“Oh Takashi-kun, we’d never get mad at you for something like that. We’re not like that. It’s okay, it was an accident. Nyanko knocked a box off your desk, the bang startled us too. Neither of us blame you, okay?” she smiles kindly at him.

Takashi is grateful that they’re so understanding, it’s relieving. He wonders if Kitamoto told her when he was out in the hall. Good, he thinks, he’d be too scared to admit it a second time anyway. Touko’s attention shifts to his swollen ankle, she gasps and calls to her husband to bring some ice for it.

“Of course,” he says and nearly trips on Nyanko as he leaves the room when the cat sidles up to his legs in passing.

Nyanko jumps up on to Takashi’s lap and settles there, curling up to sleep as though it was the safest place in the world. As Takashi closes his exhausted eyelids just for a minute and strokes the lucky cat that is meant to be his bodyguard, he considers that may be, right now, it is his safest place in the world. The crow spirit stands guard, his friends are either side and his relatives care, his cat is a source of warmth in his lap. There’s no way that he isn’t in the safest place in the world.

#daily natsume #natsume yuujinchou #natsume's book of friends #natsume takashi #nishimura satoru #kitamoto atsushi #touko fujiwara #shigeru fujiwara #misuzu #hinoe #natsuyuu #so i'm posting this at 4am in the morning because i am an idiot #who stayed up watching haikyuu and writing fic #i am so so tired #but i hope you enjoy this tess #i quite like it #flings this into the abyss and hides

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taizi · 7 years

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if youre taking natsuyuu prompts, maybe just some wholesome natsume loving? maybe protective teachers (possibly a teacher from a previous school who meets his current and starts bad mouthing? I dunno) I love your writing!!!

For most of the students, small-towners as they all are, it’s their first time in Fukuoka, so the itinerary the teachers and chaperones have planned is more of a guideline to fall back on than anything else. With three days ahead of them for this trip, there’s plenty of time for them to see a good chunk of what the capital city has to offer without keeping to too strict a timetable.

“Nomiya-sensei, did you want me to put everyone in groups?” The class representative, Tsuji Masayuki, materializes at Futoshi’s elbow. He’s watching his classmates with a harried sort of mother hen look, and adds, “Before they go too far?”

Futoshi bites back most of a grin and says, “Sure, Tsuji. I appreciate it.” And then, for what feels like the fifth time, “This is a vacation for you too, you know.”

“I know,” Tsuji says quickly, smiling even as he moves away. “Natsume is helping me, so it won’t take long. We’ll make a list of the groups and be right back!”

Sure enough, Natsume Takashi is waiting for him with a handful of other students, and smiles when Tsuji presents his self-given task. His kids are a good bunch, Futoshi decides, and he’s content to hang back and watch over them for awhile.

The other classes move ahead while Tsuji’s classmates roll their eyes good-naturedly and allow themselves to be lumped into groups of threes and fours. Tanuma, Kitamoto and Taki, two boys from class one and a girl from class five who nonetheless are familiar faces in Futoshi’s classroom, grin from where they wait to one side as Nishimura Satoru is paired, perhaps predictably, with Natsume and Tsuji himself.

“Well, you’re no fun,” Nishimura says blandly, “but I guess you can be in me and Natsume’s group, Masa-chan.”

“Would you rather be stuck with Adachi?” Tsuji says with an icy smile, pencil hovering above his roster. Nishimura shuts up promptly, his friends howl with laughter, and Futoshi makes a mental note to remember that threat himself.

“Nomiya-kun!” a voice calls out suddenly, and Futoshi turns in some surprise to be greeted by a familiar face. “It’s Akihiko,” his old friend says unnecessarily, a pleased smile on his face. “We went to college together.”

“I remember you,” Futoshi says, moving forward to clasp his hand. His already pleasant morning gets that much better, and he grins. “Still teaching?”

“Am I ever,” Akihiko says with the faint air of exhaustion that speaks of the long nights and early mornings Futoshi himself is familiar with. “And I can see you’ve got your hands full. Class trip?”

“Yeah, it’s all they’ve been able to talk about for weeks. It’s not so bad though,” he adds, “my class this year is my best one yet.”

“You probably say that every year,” Akihiko says dryly, and there’s no prudent way to deny that, so Futoshi ignores him. Laughingly, Akihiko says, “Well, most kids are alright. You get one or two stand-out cases, but mostly they’re all more or less the same. If you can teach one class, you can teach them all.”

Futoshi blinks, surprised to be faced with a philosophy he doesn’t agree with in the least. “Is that so,” he finally says.

“Granted, everyone I’ve talked to has had that one nightmare child,” Akihiko goes on. “At least, that’s what I was always told. And I never really bought it until a few years ago, when a boy transferred into my class in the middle of term. Strangest kid I’ve ever met, and nothing but trouble!”

Tsuji is coming back with his roster, and Futoshi is grateful to turn his attention to someone else. He’s already wearing a smile for his student, putting a hand out for the clipboard.

But Tsuji doesn’t seem to notice, bright eyes darting from his face to Akihiko’s as sharply as if he’d just been shocked. With a pang, Futoshi realizes Akihiko is still talking, and in the middle of saying something along the lines of “– and honestly it was no wonder why. That Natsume alienated himself with his weird behavior and no one wanted to be around him.”

Tsuji stands there with the clipboard hanging in one half-outstretched hand, frozen to the spot by something riding the line between horror and hostility. And Tsuji has never once given into his temper despite all the responsibility he shoulders and the raucous classmates he has to keep in line, but he looks up at Akihiko and opens his mouth around something Futoshi knows will get him in trouble.

“Thank you for your hard work,” he says, before his student can get a word in edgewise. He takes a step closer, and takes the roster out of his hand.

Tsuji reluctantly drags heated eyes off Akihiko in favor of giving his teacher a long, measuring look. Futoshi holds Tsuji’s eye firmly.

“I’ll take care of everything else, okay?” he says. “You go catch up with your friends and have a good time.”

Futoshi may not be perfect, but he’s always done right by his kids, and the pay-off is right here, in the way Tsuji relaxes inch by inch, trusting in his teacher to make this right. Somewhere behind him, Nishimura is yelling for Tsuji to ‘come on, everyone else has left us behind already, hurry up!’

“Then just leave without me!” Tsuji retorts as he hurries back to join them, and Futoshi smiles at the indignation on Nishimura’s face.

“But then I’d have to leave without Natsume!”

Tsuji doesn’t look back once, but he hooks a proprietary hand around Natsume’s arm and all but drags him out of the room – away from Akihiko’s disdainful soliloquy and back to the relative safety of the rest of their class.

Only then does Futoshi turn to face Akihiko, and his smile fades at the stunned look on the other man’s face. “After that, it goes without saying,” Futoshi says slowly, “that Natsume is in my class this year.”

“I guess it does.” Akihiko seems bewildered. “I thought you said – “

“That my class this year is my best yet? I did say that. You’re right, I probably say it every year, but I mean it every year, too.”

There’s a knot in the pit of his chest, because Futoshi remembers the solemn ghost Natsume Takashi was at the beginning of the year, the way he would find the transfer student eating lunch by himself, or napping alone in unused classrooms.

And only moments ago he was smiling brightly as he helped overworked Tsuji, with probably the most extroverted child Futoshi has ever taught hanging off him the way Nishimura is always hanging off him anymore, while a handful of their friends from other classes waited nearby.

It’s a turnaround Futoshi doesn’t get to see often – a comeback from whatever else Natsume has lived through that makes Futoshi proud of him as a student and as a person, too – and he hates that there are teachers, educators, that could see what he sees and not appreciate it for the wonder it is.

“He was a child who I can only assume was treated unkindly by many people,” Futoshi says, “and despite those people, he has grown into a compassionate and caring individual, well-liked by his peers and surrounded by friends. As his teacher, I’ll thank you to leave him alone from now on.”

Futoshi bows shortly, only to be met by silence. It’s a silence that doesn’t bother him, and one he doesn’t think too deeply on. Moving away from the man he once knew to catch up to the students he came here with, his thoughts are already shifting to the restaurants nearby, and where he might be able to afford to treat them all to lunch.

#natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #natsume takashi #tsuji #i named him after all gjhsdgjh #also i didnt know if nomiya sensei had a given name so i gave him one too :')#took some liberties w the class trip #fukuoda is one prefecture over from kumamoto so its feasible but idk if its the type of place you'd go on a class trip #oh well its where my kids went and they had a good time #my writing #prompt #anonymous #natsuyuu fic #*fukuoka

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taizi · 7 years

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*skids in to your ask box at the speed of light upon reading you want prompts* !!! I am so on board with this! Is there anyway you could try Nishimura and Kitamura finding out Natsume can see yokai and just being amazing bros? Or the Fujiwara's for the same thing? Natsume deserves all the love! Thank you very much if you choose to write this. I can't wait to see you in the Natsuyuu fandom more!!!!

It starts with the piece of paper Nishimura finds on the floor. He pauses right before he might have stepped on it, and stoops to pick it up instead.

It’s a pencil drawing, a circle with odd lines and symbols clustered around the edges and what looks like an open eye in the middle. There’s some notes scribbled out to one side of the drawing, and Nishimura blinks. Turns the paper over in his hands and blinks at it some more.

Kitamoto sounds long-suffering when he says, “What are you doing?”

“I found something cool. Can I keep this?”

“No. Someone might come looking for it,” his friend says without missing a beat. “Quit just taking stuff you find.”

“Ugh, come on, I don’t do that.” Nishimura glances around for a moment, and his eyes light on the pen on Natsume’s desk. He leans over to snatch it up victoriously, and then stutters a little at the pointedly incredulous look on Kitamoto’s face. “Wha–Natsume doesn’t care!”

“Will you just–”

“Shh. I have to concentrate.”

The point of the pen is hard and dull as it drags across the palm of Nishimura’s hand, and each line it leaves feels sore on his skin. But it’s only the work of a minute or two, and Nishimura leans back to tuck the pen safely into Natsume’s bag when he’s finished.

“There,” he says, holding his hand up with a flourish. “Now I have my own cool circle and I don’t need this other one.” Nishimura turns to shoot his best friend his most winning smile, and a peace sign for good measure.

Kitamoto is giving him a Look, capital L, but all he says is, “Try putting half this much effort into your homework sometime. Your grades will be five times better, and I’ll finally stop hearing about all your failed cram school conquests.”

Nishimura puts the paper on the windowsill near the spot he found it, where hopefully its owner might come across it, and forgets about the whole thing in favor of chasing Kitamoto out of the room with an outraged squawk.

Lunch is nearly over when Natsume comes back into the classroom–he stops at the door to smile a soft goodbye at Tanuma, happy and with healthy color in his face. Nishimura leans forward on his desk, fingers curled eagerly around the diagram on his palm, and opens his mouth around the beginnings of Natsume’s name.

But he stops, as abruptly as slamming full-speed into a brick wall. And stares. And stares some more, because there’s no way he’s seeing this right.

There’s something on Natsume’s back.

Natsume doesn’t seem to notice, making his way calmly across the room. There’s–it has emaciated, ash-gray arms wrapped around Natsume’s neck and shoulders, a dark head of long, tangled hair–

No one else sees it? No one?

Gnarled hands are so close to Natsume’s throat, dirty fingernails scraping against his collarbone, and he greets Nishimura in the same quiet way he always does, stopping beside his own desk to shove a handful of papers into his bag.

The thing on his back turns its head, very slowly, and Nishimura doesn’t know how its seeing past all that hair, but he knows its looking at him. He knows it is. And it clings to Natsume that much tighter, like algae, hair curling around Natsume’s forearms like limp bracken at the edge of a pond, and Nishimura shoots to his feet.

His chair clatters back, and only a few people turn to look at him before turning away again because when isn’t he doing weird stuff, but this is different, this is Natsume, and there’s something on his back.

“Natsume, just–hold–hold still, okay?”

How is he supposed to get rid of it? It’s staring at him again from that sightless face, chilling him straight to the bone, and Nishimura would be the happiest ever if he could just cover his eyes for the rest of the school day and pretend its not there, but it–but Natsume–

“Get off him,” Nishimura demands and his voice comes out stronger than he thought it would. He’s weak with terror but he stands his ground; stomping down every insistent shred of self preservation and common sense in his brain urging him to back away, and glares at the dark thing hanging off his friend’s shoulders instead. His hands are shaking. “Don’t–don’t you dare hurt him. Or I’ll–I’ll–I’ll call an exorcist! Don’t even try me!”

Then he hears Natsume saying his name, in the tone of voice of someone who’s been saying his name over and over. Gentle fingers nudge Nishimura’s face gently a few inches to the left.

Natsume’s amber eyes are stunned, deeper and darker and brighter than Nishimura has ever seen before. There’s something stark in his expression that isn’t quite wonder, and isn’t quite fear, and isn’t quite hope.

The teacher is coming back into the room, and everyone else is settling into their seats, so Natsume takes a step back and lets him go.

But his fingers were warm, and his voice is kind even for all its caution when he says, “It’s okay. She won’t hurt you.”

He sounds so certain, so sure, that the leaping panic in Nishimura’s chest recedes into something less painful. The thing on Natsume’s back curls in a little closer, a little tighter, tapered fingers finding firm footholds in Natsume’s uniform jacket. And Nishimura blinks at the two of them.

Nods once. Falls back into his seat with a thump that hurts a little.

Natsume turns his chair sideways before he sits down, putting the backrest toward the window. The thing on his back stays there, bunched up against his spine, as though Natsume’s body heat and heartbeat are a precious balm that soothes and soothes.

Nishimura holds out his hand, palm up. The copied circle sits proudly between the two of them, followed by a thick, heavy silence.

Natsume, when Nishimura risks a glance at him, looks like he isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

“Maybe don’t draw strange symbols that you find thrown away on your body,” he finally says, with a pinch of reluctant good humor that does wonders for the overall mood. Nishimura can feel his heart getting lighter with just at a peek of that recalcitrant smile on his friend’s pale face. “Or–anywhere else. Ever again. Okay?”

“Okay.” That sounds like solid advice.

“At least I can tell Taki her new diagram worked. Make sure you wash it off when you get home.”

The thing from Natsume’s back is tucked into his arms now, little more than a bundle of torn yukata and bramble-like black hair. They’re walking together, slow, the long way back to Natsume’s house, and Nishimura can’t keep his eyes off the thing for more than a few seconds at a time.

“So,” he finally says, waving his unmarked hand vaguely. “What is–”

“Her name is Yumemi,” Natsume says. “She drowned. She’s just a little lonely. I promise she won’t hurt you.”

It takes Nishimura a moment to swallow that. Natsume doesn’t seem to mind the quiet, hefting Yumemi up in his thin, strong arms, a little closer to his heart. Nishimura watches them both, fingers curled around the ink on his hand, and starts running a mental race.

The first time he saw Natsume outside of school, walking home with Kitamoto, Natsume was running through the forest with all the desperation of someone in real danger.

A few months later, in their classroom at the end of the day, Natsume had choked mid-word and scrambled against his throat at nothing, face flushing a dusky red as though he really couldn’t breathe–he seemed to come up off the ground, even, as though an invisible hand had yanked him off his feet.

He got hurt at the cultural fair two weeks ago, and again at the inn Tanuma’s relatives owned, and trouble seems to follow him everywhere he goes, with every step he takes.

And maybe, Nishimura sort of always figured there was more to it than just bad luck. No one as nice as Natsume could have that much karma stacked against them. Ghosts and monsters, on the other hand?

“That makes sense,” Nishimura says, realization dawning. Natsume looks at him sideways. “Sorry, I was just–thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Natsume says dryly, then abruptly looks mortified at himself. But–um, wow? Nishimura grins at him, delighted. Who knew Natsume was sarcastic under all that soft and sweet? Kitamoto isn’t going to believe this.

“Man, you’re really in your element right now, huh?” Nishimura says, unable to help teasing–especially when Natsume’s face turns pink. “There’s like, this whole new side to you I never knew about. A sassy alter-ego. Incredible.”

Natsume doesn’t have any hands free to hide his face, so his flush is free for the world to see, and he snaps, “How does Kitamoto put up with you?” but there’s no heat to it. Nishimura throws an arm around him, beaming, and looks down a little at where he imagines Yumemi’s eyes might be lurking beneath all that hair.

“Sorry I was mean to you earlier,” he says ruefully, trying not to think too hard about a drowned girl leeching comfort and warmth off of a kind human boy. It’s really not the time or place to start crying, really, and Nishimura knows he totally will later–when he’s alone in his room ignoring his phone and his family and his homework, digesting all the wild events of this afternoon. “But not everybody’s nice to this guy, you know? Gotta look out for him when I can.”

Natsume almost trips, and maybe he would have if Nishimura didn’t have a grip on his shoulders. But he does, and his fingers fold tight into the back of Natsume’s shirt, and he holds on the whole way home.

Yumemi looks like she understands. Her eyes, when she waves goodbye to him at Natsume’s door, are a very pretty blue.

“Satoru,” his mother calls up the stairs, “dinner is ready!”

“I’ll be right down!” Nishimura yells back through his bedroom door, but he doesn’t rush.

Slowly, painstakingly, he finishes tracing over the fading ink on his hand with a brand new ballpoint pen he bought from the convenience store before he got home. Examining his palm with a critical eye, Nishimura decides the circle looks a little better this time, the lines less shaky and the symbols more certain.

Nishimura blows on it until it dries, then pushes away from his desk and thumps down the stairs to join his family at the table.

#natsume yuujinchou #natsume takashi #nishimura satoru #my writing #prompt #nishi is taking over my life you guys pls send help #clarrolx #natsuyuu #full circle #natsuyuu fic

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