1: The Demon and the Book of Friends

He had been sitting vigil beside him for three days and nights when the man finally opened his eyes. he turned his face, those golden orbs the same captivating color as always behind graying bangs. "What, you're still here? I thought you would have taken the Book of Friends and run off by now."

He growled softly. "I swore I would watch over you until the end, Natsume."

"The end… huh." He chucked, but it turned into a cough that wracked the painfully thin frame. "And? Have you been sufficiently entertained by keeping me company, Sensei?"

The enormous ayakashi laid his head on his paws, letting out a breath that rustled Natsume's hair. "Natsume, I know little of humans, even now. Are you dying?"

"Yes, I'm dying." The man closed his eyes and leaned back against his pillows with a small smile on his face. "That's why I haven't called the others recently. They would make such a fuss, you know?"

Madara knew. The yokai of the West Fields, as well those freed from the Book of Friends or still tied to it, and the many spirits that the foolishly good-natured Natsume had helped would tear the world apart for him, and the gifted man was fully aware of that. No human had ever had such a following of demons and apparition as Takahashi Natsume.

He had been a sight to see in his youth, astride Madara's powerful back with a hundred demons in tow, the Book of Friends in hand. Even Matoba had come to respect the young man's power. But those days had passed, and Natsume was fading. His face, always pale, was now akin to parchment, dry and rough. His features were sharper, his hands weak. He had not returned a name for many years now. Even if he wished to, he no longer had the strength to do so. Tens upon hundreds of possessions and curses throughout his life had slowly built up and taken their toll, and now he could not even get up from his mat without aid.

"I'm not an old man yet, but I've lived much longer than I had any right to expect," Natsume murmured, breaking the silence and his companion's musings. His hand slid between the covers and emerged with a green book, long and thinner that when they first met, but still containing many powerful names. "A promise is a promise, Sensei. This is yours."

"Natsume!" The ayakashi's rumbling exclamation shook the small house.

The man laughed, a sound that was far weaker than ever before in his closed throat. "Hey, Sensei, it was fun. Don't cause too much trouble." And the hand fell, landing softly on the covers with a sound that was like the collapsing of mountains in Madara's sensitive ears.

"Natsume- Natsume!"

He was gone. That foolish, gentle Natsume was gone forever. Madara lifted his great head and let out a furious roar that rang across the valley. Everywhere, yokai froze fearfully, wondering what great beast was in such a rage. The white ayakashi touched his nose to Natsume's forehead, and caught the scent of death along with that which he knew so well.

Shifting into a more human form, Madara knelt beside the man's body. Clawed fingers touched the papery skin, and his brow creased. What was this feeling? Abandonment… perhaps. He had been with Natsume for almost thirty years, far longer than he had spent with any companion before, ayakashi or human.

I wonder if you'll become attached to me someday.

He bowed his head, white hair falling around his face like a veil. But then his gaze turned to the Book of Friends, the object he had always desired to possess. He took it into his hands, feeling its substance, the power that pervaded it. And yet, all he could see within his thoughts was the determined gaze of those golden eyes when Natsume bit down on a name, and the peaceful expression on the boy's face when it was returned.

Madara flipped through the book carelessly, just as he had often scolded Natsume for doing, and paused at a particular name. His heart stuttered, a reaction he had not known ayakashi could have. I never knew that Reiko had met this one. If, perhaps, this name was what he thought… he looked to Natsume, laying as though asleep.

Hey, Natsume, can I really have the Book of Friends when you're gone?

Yeah.

He closed the book with a snap, putting it into the pouch that Natsume always carried it in and slinging it over his shoulder. Then he gathered the body of his foolish companion into his powerful arm and exploded from the window with a growl.

He soared over the valley, occasionally touching down briefly on roofs or treetops, but continuing towards the mountain in the distance. It would seem that some of the man's foolishness had rubbed off over the years, but that thought did not displease him as it once might have. When Madara touched down in the clearing, he yelled, "Shitai no Senken! Where are you?"

The spirit slid from the shadows, a hunched old man with a flat plane in place of eyes or eye sockets. "Madara?" it croaked. "What could possibly bring you here?"

"I need you to recall a soul."

"Madara, I can only do such things with a very strong summons."

The white-haired ayakashi carefully lay Natsume's body at the Corpse-Seer's feet. "Will this do?"

Shitai bent over the man's form and stroked his protruding chin. "Indeed, however, I must ask…" he looked towards the larger demon with a scraggle-toothed grin, "Why do you wish to reincarnate this human? Why should I do this for you?"

"Because," Madara growled, "I will kill you if you do not." The Book of Friends, which he had withdrawn from its bag, was open to the name of Shitai no Senken. With a flick of his clawed hand, he could tear both the name and its owner to shreds.

The Corpse-Seer gave a dry-throated cackle. "I see. Well, my payment is quite sufficient, then. This odd request is worth seeing you so desperate, Madara."

Desperate? The cat-eyed ayakashi blinked in surprise, but then shook himself. Yes, he supposed that he was fairly desperate.

The wrinkled demon reached into Natsume's body, his hand become transparent as he did so, and, after several moments of rummaging, withdrew an orb of softly shimmering energy the same golden color as the man's eyes. "I can't control where he will be born," Shitai warned.

Madara only growled.

With another cackle, the Corpse-Seer released the soul, and it flew into the sky, vanishing from sight. Natsume's body shimmered like a mirage in the desert, and then faded. "Thank you for your business, Madara. Do come again." And with that the bent-over yokai shuffled back into his shadows and vanished.

Madara closed the book with a snort. "Hardly." And then he looked off into the distance with a small frown. Where had the soul landed? But then a small smile touched his lips and he chuckled. His form rippled, shifting into that of the great beast most knew him as.

It didn't matter where the soul had gone. Natsume had returned to this world, and Madara would find him. Nothing else mattered except for that.