Title: Fishes on Ceilings
Words: 994
Disclaimer: I do not own Natsume Yuujinchou or it's characters. This is not for any personal profit.

Un-beta'd. Because I wanted to get this up and because I don't have a Beta Reader. Deal with the errors and one day I'll come back to fix it.

Remember, reviews means more uploads. Plus, they just make me happy.

'We're similar, Natsume and I,' Tanuma thought to himself. The fact that they both knew of the existence of Ayakashi was enough to prove that.

The similarities were enough to make it okay for one to seek out the other, no matter the time or the place, but it called for troubled feelings to initiate their connection. They could find solace in the peaceful understanding, though Tanuma never felt like what he did was enough and he wasn't satisfied. He could only see the shadows on the ceiling, not the golden, glimmering scales of the fishes or the ripping, reflecting water of the pond itself.

"See? Look. Can you see them?" he had asked once. He turned with a smile on his face – because he was happy he wasn't alone – but Natsume was looking somewhere else. Down. Outside. "What're you looking at?"

"That's a pretty pond."

"Wha-" he began, and then shut his mouth, because he suddenly understood that Natsume's vision went deeper. The boy saw more, understood more, than the monochromatic shapes Tanuma only occasionally saw from the corner of his eye.

But he didn't know that Natsume was happy. That finding anyone who could see the spirits, colorful or not, was reason enough to be happy.

So, Tanuma began counting ways he could make Natsume happy. Because everything that made Natsume smile was important and precious. Every smile was another step farther from the past that the boy didn't want to talk about. So they sat, together, arms touching, watching the shadows on the ceiling swim about, though the entire room was full of empty space. Always, Tanuma sat, his head turned just slightly away from the circling shapes because, as he stubbornly claimed, he could see them longer if only from the corner of his eyes.

He hoped that Natsume was receiving his affection as clearly as the boy was receiving the spirits.

He had seen the time when Natsume stooped out of nowhere, placing a flat piece of wood across a puddle. The boy had gained a secret smile that flashed quickly by like an afterthought, but it was sincere; that much Tanuma's limited vision could see.

He had fallen in love with it on accident – loved that smile in secret: proud that he knew the reason for it though disappointed that he only saw the shadow of a spirit. There was a selfish desire in him to be able to see the spirits clearly.

If he could see them too…then they were one step closer to each other.

Then came the day when Tanuma chanced upon Natsume. The boy's strange cat peered with some disinterest as Natsume's legs buckled and he lay there, pressed against the ground by some force that Tanuma could only just barely begin to understand.

Natsume choked something out, his arms squeezed to his sides and it looked as if the cat responded, with humanlike gestures that made Tanuma's skin crawl.

"That spirit's a weakling. Take care of it yourself. If not, then I'll finally get the Book of Friends." The round body swung with surprising agility and leaped into the bushes, disappearing.

Natsume shouted something and Tanuma found himself jumping out from his hiding spot before he knew what he was doing – swinging his fist at something that didn't exist.

His punch passed through nothing and the struggling look in Natsume's eyes slowly died away. Breathlessly, wordlessly looking at something Tanuma couldn't. He sat up as Tanuma crouched beside him, aching to slip into that arrangement they took when watching fishes on ceilings.

"I didn't lie. I'll return your name."

It almost startled Tanuma. Yet the entire situation was too weird and wonderful for him to fully grasp the fact that he didn't understand what Natsume said.

But he had saved Natsume.

Saved him. Like a hero out of a comic book who saved the damsel in distress. Natsume is no damsel, Reality insisted, And you're no hero. He wanted to argue back, but –

"Tanuma, thank you."

That dream voice. Tanuma turned, a strange and novel feeling blooming.

"What?"

"Thank you. For saving me."

There it was again. He had to hope that his ears weren't playing tricks on him. 'What a cruel truth,' he thought quaintly to himself. Reality wasn't on his side. So if this were a dream, separating from this delusion would be more painful than that festering feeling of uselessness that he always felt in waking.

A disembodied voice. His own. "No…no problem. Glad I could help." There was a thin, wispish, awkward laugh that he pretended not to hear, because that was too weak and feminine to be his. And there was a soft, breathy laugh that he strained to catch.

'I made him laugh.'

"You laughed."

The laughter stopped, but the fluttery feeling didn't stop. Neither did the pounding in his heart.

"Should I not have?"

Instead of answering, Tanuma said, "Is this a dream?"

Natsume's expression was confused. And adorable. "Why would it be?" He chuckled, "I hope you don't have dreams of me being strangled by the Ayakashi."

"Is that what that was…" He knew the real answer, the words merely filled the air. He ran a finger over his knuckles lightly, though he didn't feel anything the first time, now, he could have sworn that there was a tingling feeling running beneath his skin.

The itching feeling was beginning to run over his entire body, electricity darting from his feet, to his lips, his fingers.

He reached out impulsively.

Natsume's hand was warm and soft. Larger than his mind's eye had perceived it, but Tanuma decided when he hit his next growth spurt, Natsume's hand would begin to fit perfectly into his grasp. If it didn't…well, he supposed that didn't really matter.

Natsume's lips seemed slightly as if they were shot through with electricity to Tanuma, but he had to admit, he rather liked it.