A Slow and Steady Descent, a natsume yūjin-chō fanfic

A Slow and Steady Descent

The Book of Friends dropped to the floor with a thud that opens a gulf of perplexed silence in the tiny four walled room. Madara glances up to the boy and finds him staring blankly on the unmoving pages.

"Natsume-dono?"

The ayakashi's worry does the trick and snaps Natsume back to the present with an apology buried in a sheepish laugh before he repeats the ritual again, embarrassment heating his cheeks red. It proceeds with no further incident and the ayakashi leaves in a happy note, a promise of a favor owned whispered in a swirl of feathers the color of Autumn. Madara doesn't miss a beat upon their guest's exit, chucking the earlier blunder to his charge's inane clumsiness, and grumbles of how the Books of Friends had thinned since they've met. Natsume smiles and scratches the top of his head, having exhausted himself to participate in their usual banter. Madara indulges the boy's disrespect, suffering the indignity against his noble nature in silence.

Madara purrs.

"Takashi-kun! Dinner's ready!"

Natsume answers the call and Madara feels a slight twinge at the lost of his gentle touch. He follows the boy shortly, drowning unnecessary sentiments under loud singing for pork cutlets and puddings for dessert.

The morons over at Yatsuhara had dragged Natsume again for another party. One thing led to another and they have fallen into another human game Natsume called Daruma-san.

The game is a simple stop and go play, the 'it' being tasked to catch the idiots behind him unawares. There was much cackling and goofing about, running with unbridled mischievous glee and laughter bubbling over from everyone when a round approached its conclusion. Madara observes the proceedings in the sidelines.

He remembers the game in a more bloodthirsty note involving a troublesome ayakashi.

The one-eyed bull reaches Benio and slaps her back, causing everyone to scatter and run away from her as quickly as possible. Madara shrugs the memory off easily and joins in, sweeping Natsume deftly off the ground onto his back.

"Madara-sama! That's cheating!" Benio accuses.

Madara scoffs, though his amused contempt swaps readily to annoyance when that trice be damned toy horse unceremoniously picks Natsume from his keeping. "Oi, you damn toy horse. That is mine."

"I only wish to give Natsume-dono more competent options for his retinue," the horse says, his damn smile ever present. "What do you say, Natsume-dono? Shall you give your servant the honor to prove himself?"

Natsume doesn't have enough time to reply as Hinoe leaps onto Misuzu's hand and swamps him into her embrace tightly. "You two always hog him to yourselves!" she gripes. "Learn to share!"

The others take this as invitation to gather round to Natsume, the game now forgotten in lieu of demanding for his favor. Natsume does not suffer their annoying fawning long and diffuses their squabbling by tagging Santou, declaring him 'it.'

The game continues. Madara loudly puffs a sigh and indulges the weaklings, changing into his tinier but equally magnificent form to partake the merrymaking. He doesn't let Natsume escape his sight.

Before long, dusk arrives, casting a gradient blanket of red orange to deep violet across the sky. Between their fun and games Natsume had successfully stolen a moment's rest, managing to slip pass his overzealous underlings... or, rather, most of them. Madara hadn't notice when that damn horse settled behind his charge nor when Hinoe lent her lap for the child. Madara approach them.

"Just a little while longer," Hinoe whispers, her fingers carding easily through Natsume's hair. The boy doesn't stir from her ministration.

Madara settles snugly by Natsume's chest and tucks his legs neatly under him. The boy seems too comfortable, sound asleep as he is. He'll let his charge nap a bit more before he takes him back to the Fujiwaras.

"Takashi-kun, is something the matter?"

The thick worry emitting from the human easily permeates the air around the dining table. Madara pauses from his meal as his charge tries to dispel the human's concern gently

"No, no, everything's fine, Touko-san."

The boy makes a show of taking a large bite of his meal, hastily shoving the big piece of pink salmon into his mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing his food in the same manner.

It does nothing to alleviate the tension. Touko pointedly looks at the barely eaten meal before him. "Is the food not to your liking? Should I fry some squid for you? You like those, right?"

Anxiety leaks through Natsume's expression but even then he still speaks ever so softly, almost dragging the words out of his mouth. "It's delicious, Touko-san, please don't trouble yourself."

"But Takashi-kun..."

That the boy doesn't seem too keen in eating her meals for a while now hangs heavily between them, unsaid but not unheard.

A pregnant silence lapses between the humans and it is Shigeru who breaks his peace. "Takashi, I don't ask you for many favors but please do this one for me and Touko. Please rely on us more."

Natsume doesn't answer, his eyes downcast, his head bowing shortly. Madara's gaze narrows as he studies the boy with no inhibition. His heart drops down at the bottom of his feet. The problem so blatantly showed in front of them douses him like ice water. He acts fast to catch the Fujiwaras attention, pretending to make a nuisance of himself as he topples Natsume from his seat.

The boy doesn't get up.

Touko flies immediately to Natsume side, cradling him into her arms.

"Takashi-kun? Takashi-kun! Takashi-kun!" she shakes the boy, frantic, willing him to respond and Natsume painstakingly tries to. Arms trembling to reach her but stay uselessly by his side, his lips barely parting in effort to speak words that do not come out... His face is wan and pale and his breathing shallow and slow, he seems about to slip into sleep due to a fit of severe exhaustion—"Shigeru-san! The hospital! Please!"

Shigeru lifts the boy to his chest then he and Touko run to their car to speed off to the humans' healing place leaving Madara in a daze alone in the empty brightly lit home.

A neighbor comes in a short while to secure the house and it is only late the next day when Natsume and the Fujiwaras finally come back.

Madara sits beside the boy on the sofa while his human guardians potter around. The boy lifts him gently to his lap where he settles comfortably. Madara ignores the gnawing tension between the couple and, like always, chooses not to comprehend the sickly sweet smell coming from Natsume since the beginning of the year.

Today they come back with Natsume wearing a funny transparent mask that covers the lower half of his face. The mask itself is connected to a funnier bulky, box-like human contraption.

"It's to help me breathe, Sensei," Natsume says as greeting when he arrives at the sanctuary of his room. The mask only muffles his voice and doesn't hide the slight smile he gives to him.

"Hmph. You're much of a wimp as I thought," Madara grouches. "Needing such a thing."

"Did anyone come for their names?"

The question itself is answer enough. Good. Seems like that damn toy horse is good for something after all.

Madara shrugs uncaringly. "Like I would know."

Natsume sets the box on his desk in time for the shoji screen to slide open, letting an annoying invader in together with its insufferable sparkles.

"Natsume-kun, how is it? Think you can come back to school next week?"

The boy laughs softly. Everything he does now is too softly. "I was thinking tomorrow."

"Oho. Don't get ahead of yourself now," the man says as he bends from his waist to Natsume's eye level, ruffling his hair. "You have a lot of missed work."

The notes from Natsume's classmate on the desk are testament to that.

"I guess so..." Natsume mumbles. "Natori-san."

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

Natori Shuiichi's smile doesn't falter; neither does he remove his hand from Natsume's head. "You staying healthy is thanks enough, alright Natsume-kun?"

"Okay, Natori-san."

The man stays well into the night, the Fujiwaras insisting that he stays for dinner as it is the least they could do for all his help. Natsume still doesn't manages to finish everything on his plate but nobody pays it mind and only focuses on the silly stories the exorcist shares with them.

Touko tucks Natsume in his new bed. Madara climbs up easily, though the railings give him some small trouble. The woman takes pity on him and lifts him up to settle him cosily to Natsume's side. She pets him affectionately, asking him to look after the boy for them tonight. She kisses Natsume's forehead before bidding him goodnight.

Natsume isn't able to come to school the next day nor the next week and even the weeks following that.

"Hmm... I'm impressed. Natsume-dono is an easy pupil."

Madara's ear twitches but he steadfastly maintains his nonchalance from across the room. Natsume had made a request to find the bird ayakashi he helped a while ago. Madara brings the ayakashi, Kyou, days later. Natsume doesn't waste a moment in reminding the spirit of his promise; that he wishes to take that favor right at the very moment. The ayakashi readily agrees and so Madara finds the better part of his days bombarded with mundane lessons he wishes not to partake in but have no choice but learn how reduce it to background noise because of the need to stay. He won't stand it if that toy horse ridicules him again for not knowing how to properly do his job.

So Madara endures. The lessons progresses on.

Fortunately, it does not take long before Natsume trades his part time teacher with ink, brush and paper. As to be expected. The skill is dependent more on feel rather than the stalwart, rigidity of what has become of the written human speech.

"Nyanko-sensei."

Madara narrows his eyes. The boy sounded too pleased with himself. It only takes a glance to know what the brat wanted.

To normal humans what is written on the paper would be nonsensical scribbles, random strokes and patterns, but to an ayakashi the simple request won't be so easy to ignore.

"You really are a handful," Madara sighs, exasperated, like he means it, as he trudges to the closet.

"I promise to buy you a bun from Nanatsujiya," the cheeky brat says.

Madara throws a knitted shirt at the boy and follows it with a scarf. "Idiot. One bun isn't enough."

Natsume only laughs and tells him he'll spoil his dinner if he eats too much. Madara only scoffs that he really is an idiot. The boy ignores the jab and slowly slips on the clothes he gave him. Madara watches the boy as he waits.

Really an idiot.

He didn't have to go to all that trouble to learn how to write in ayakashi.

If he wanted to have a walk he could have just said so.

Natsume's room is never empty of visitors during the afternoons. His friends going straight to his side when their class finishes and fills him up with anything he missed or the latest gossip going around in the school halls. They poke and prod Natsume's breathing box, stating how cool it looks and asks him how it works. Natsume indulges their questions readily.

"When are you going back to school?" Taki asks from the foot of Natsume's bed.

"Next week I hope."

"Cool! You'll just be in time for the study trip! I'll come pick you up!" one of the unseeing boys, Nishimura, says.

"Oh? Pick him up? Given up on Taki, Nishimura?" the girl with glasses teases.

The boy in question splutters, denying any romantic attachments with Natsume and accuses the girl that isn't she the one who likes Natsume, anyway? Tanuma and Taki try to diffuse the escalating rowdiness but the glasses girl explodes despite their efforts.

"Mou! Fine!" She faces Natsume, a blush high on her cheeks. "Natsume-kun!"

"Y-yes!"

"I like you!"

Natsume face turns blank.

"I really, really like you!"

Natsume isn't burdened to reply to the question as one of his friends erupts from his tightly wound silence.

"Sasada!" the human child bites out. "Stop it! Can't you see you're troubling him?"

"But I was just—"

"Shut up!"

"Ki-Kitamoto..."

"Shut up! Damn it—shut up! How could any of you just sit there and laugh and joke like nothing's wrong! How could you guys just pretend like that? He's sick! Natsume's sick...! He's sick—why can't—"

The human suddenly bolts out of the room, brushing pass against Touko in the process. The woman appraises the situation before her and stays put in her spot, seemingly lost.

Madara hears the telltale sounds of hitched breaths and smells the saltiness of the tears bursting from the girl's eyes. "Na-Natsume-kun... I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Natsume-kun—I'm sorry."

Madara feels his body shift as Natsume makes effort to lift half of his body from his bed and reaches Sasada, settling his hand on her head. The girl startles. Natsume gives her a kind smile. "Thank you, Sasada. I like you too."

The pain that crossed the girls face is a palpable thing. She shoves herself into Natsume, hiding her loud sobs in his chest. Madara jumps off the bed and slips out in the window. It doesn't take long before he finds Kitamura ways away from the house. Madara steers away from the human. The boy's silent weeping hurts his ears just as much as the girl's loud ones back home.

The scent had been faint afar but now that the house is in his sights, there is no doubting it.

A growl escapes under Madara's breath, the scenery bursts forward and takes him just outside of Natsume's room, his landing rattling the shingles of the roof. A man greets him from the window, a thin smile stretching his lips.

Madara spits his name like a curse, "Matoba."

The man presses a finger on his lips. "Natsume-kun is resting, kitty."

Madara glances behind the man and true enough Natsume is sleeping deeply as he would as of late. Madara squares his jaw. He returns his attention back to human, not relinquishing his true form. "State your business, human."

"Why don't you come inside? I've brought cake."

Madara spreads his senses. No spells can get by him but with this human it is better to exercise caution.

His probing yields nothing. Matoba continues to smile.

Madara shifts back to his smaller form before slipping into the room, waddling straight to Takashi's bed where he sits beside his head. His sight is trained on the Matoba brat. The man only nonchalantly sits back down on the chair beside the bed.

"What are you scheming," Madara asks.

Matoba tilts his head as if in thought. "A friend can't say hello?"

"You're not Natsume's friend."

The thin smile leaves Matoba's face. "Aa."

Nothing is said after that. Matoba does not try to strike a conversation with Madara again which suits him fine as he isn't inclined to speak to such a foul thing. Natsume doesn't waken throughout Matoba's visit and it is Madara and Touko who sees the cretin off the door, the woman thanking him for all the help he had given.

Touko sits down and pats Madara's head before going back to the kitchen. He follows her, intending to find out what their dinner would be. The woman doesn't acquire food but instead starts to open the new boxes of medicine to portion the pills for Natsume's daily requirements.

Madara heaves a sigh. The scent from the medicine is unmistakable. When that Matoba brat comes again he'll try to be a bit nicer.

"Nyanko-sensei."

Quiet as it is, Natsume's voice easily reaches his ears. Madara doesn't answer him, knowing what he wants. The Book of Friends had stopped thinning a few months back. Natsume has barely left his room for just as long.

"Hey, Nyanko-sensei. Is it still possible... I want to..."

Madara lets the words hang in the air but relents before the boy works himself up in a fix. "I'll talk to that damn toy horse tomorrow."

The boy takes time to comprehend his words but he does and his gratitude brightly shines from his tone. "Thank you, Sensei."

"Don't thank me yet. You'll have your work cut out for you," he starts, listing important concerns regarding the inevitable resume of their charity work. "I won't ask for any offerings so be grateful and finish all your meals. You'll receive righteous punishment when you commit your usual blunder, overworking yourself. Really. You are a hopeless case."

The boy listens to his litany, never interrupting him, not even once, humming his content to all his stipulations even the most unreasonable. However, it is the boy who ends their one sided conversation.

"And if they try to eat me?"

Madara makes a show of taking offense. "Hmph! As if I'll let any of those weaklings eat my prey!"

The boy laughs gently and pets his head tenderly. "Thank you, Sensei."

Madara chooses not to hear the words unspoken. The amount of the things he chooses to ignore pile up as the days go by.

"You have a long day ahead. Go to sleep, Takashi."

The boy stops his ministration but says nothing.

"Goodnight, Sensei."

"It's almost time, isn't it Shigeru-san?"

"Aa."

"...H-how do I? –He's given us so, so much."

"Aa."

"I don't want to say goodbye."

"..."

Takashi remains blissfully unaware. Madara feigns sleep.

"Hey. Hey. You! I said hey!"

Madara tries his hardest to ignore the annoyance that had found him. He dares not strike it though. Ridiculous as it looks, garbed in shabby human clothes of sweaty smelly tracksuit, with an equally shabby scarf tied around its neck, there is no denying that it is a god. Strong as Madara is, he is no match for a god.

"Tsk. I should just cut you up."

This stops Madara in his tracks. This kind of god does take care in exterminating demons and corrupted human souls. But Madara is neither, thus this attention is not only vexing but baffling as well. "What is it that you want?" Madara finally relents.

The god sighs and mumbles under his breath. He regards him with eyes that are impossibly vivid blue. "Natsume Takashi wishes to say goodbye."

Madara's chest hallows at the answer but gets a hold of himself before anything slips. How Hinoe sobbed when the boy returned her name is still fresh in his mind. "How selfish of him, then."

"Pot calling kettle black," the god comments.

The rebuke isn't lost to Madara. The first to extend companionship was him after all.

"Go home," the god says. "He's stubborn, your boy. He won't let go until you do."

Madara stays his silence.

"Go home and allow him his rest."

11.

Many had gathered. Many had come to pay their respect. The procession is a long line of humans and ayakashi alike, a silent truce is shared between those who could see and those who are unseen.

It is a solemn affair but there is no room for tears because all knew how much that fool of a boy who held their hearts so dear would work himself up in a fluster in their behalf.

One by one they say their thanks. Thank you for bringing us joy. Thank you for tying our bonds. Thank you for touching my life. –

Farewell.

Madara startles at the scene in front of him and almost drops the sack of plums he carries in one hand.

"Ah, Madara-sama!"

Benio comes running to greet him and urges him to join their group. Madara ignores the ayakashi in lieu of prodding his charms and spells of protection. Everything is intact and the precious remembrance in the middle of the field is still safely hidden underneath the mound of flowers.

"Don't you fools have better things to do?" he grouches but none the less follows and sits beside Hinoe.

Hinoe gives him a sideways glance before handing him his cup of sake. "You never showed that form to Natsume," she comments.

Madara only grunts, taking the offered cup. He had considered it, once, probably, to tease the boy but such incentive became insignificant when Takashi got acquainted with that annoying sparkly exorcist. It wouldn't do if he gets sealed again because of some mistaken familial identity.

"And? What is it that you lot are doing here?"

Hinoe smiles like she knows a secret. "You haven't noticed?"

"Noticed what?"

She nudges her head towards the direction of the single paged book. A small shrine had been built directly on top of where it has been buried.

"If you haven't been gallivanting so much you would have noticed that he had started attracting ayakashi."

Attracting...? Madara sifts through his memories to pinpoint for a safer keep.

"Ah, I guess this appearance of your is only skin deep. Still so stupid."

Madara glares at the ayakashi.

"They had given him a shrine."

The cup stops midway before his lips. Natsume Takashi's ashes lie in the humans' resting place, but his essence, what he was and more, lies where Madara deemed it fit. This is such the place. He looks at the shrine anew and notices small offerings of flowers and fruits that he hadn't before.

"They're calling him Lord Yua."

Madara pauses then chuckles around his cup.

Ties and bonds. Love and affection.

"Figures. It suits a wimp like him."

A/N: Ah, ah. This is the product of binge watching Natsume Yuujinchou and binge reading Harunekonya's stories really. I've noted her before posting this because, eurgh, I'm still not over Natsume Takashi. After watching, reading Human mask and then reading the manga... still not ready to let go of this precious baby boy.

I've already started the sequel for this, and much like Haru-san's story it will depict Natsume as a god though with different challenges and in a different context (though some will overlap...). Posting it though... It'll remain in the privacy of my hard drive unless Haru-san gives me her permission since technically it could be considered as a fanfic of a fanfic.

Story notes:

1. Yua is technically a girl's name but since the ayakashi doesn't really care for gender a name being feminine doesn't matter as with Misuzu's name.

2. If anyone was wondering, Natsume was afflicted with is ALS, or at least I intended it to be. I only took the bare basics of what I understood on my reading about it so incorrect portrayal may have been committed especially during Natsume's 'collapse' in the middle of dinner. Still, though, I have an impression that Natsume is frail in health to begin with so I'm hinging on that for creative liberties.