#maotoba's an unsettling and powerful ayakashi with a grudge against humans and a weak spot from an exorcist encounter

[lisatelramor]

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