I: The Strange Youkai's Strange Request

Hair can be used for transactions with youkai. Specifically, hair cut from the human's head.

When making a deal with a youkai, Matoba fully expects this transaction. He will cut his hair, the youkai accepts, and then it will become a new servant to him and the clan.

Except… the youkai doesn't want it cut. Yes, it wants the hair, but it must remain attached so that it can play with it when it liked.

Matoba's brows furrow, befuddled by the strange request. Perhaps it is better than the alternative. This way the youkai can't conduct its own leverage and magic.

The offer is accepted and Matoba then gains a new, strong servant: a simple horned demon with white-silver hair and green summer eyes. The being is beautiful, but its gaze is still unnerving, following. Its expression, too, is careful as it watches its new master. Despite this, the black-haired exorcist strengthens his resolve, beckoning the demon to follow. It blinks widely, eyes trained on the hair collected over Matoba's shoulder before it slips down and behind his back.

They enter a room, dimly lit. Human and ayakashi line the walls, awaiting the decision and their new ally. A blank wooden placard is gathered by a human attendant, along with an ink slab and brush to be laid upon the chabudai for the clan head's use. He directs the demon to sit before the tools, instructing it to write a name.

"Natsume," the voice croaks quietly. The attendants, both exorcists and ayakashi, look to one another with gossip and intrigue. With the demon announcing this name, it calls to question if it understood the process of exorcist service. All ayakashi know to never sign away their real names. It is a true and dangerous enslavement; no order could be denied. Even the exorcists abide by this rule; it is unjust. Because of this, the exorcist would assign a new name. It holds no power over the servant; it is only to address and authorize the contract.

The demon only looks to Matoba, green eyes steady and knowing.

"You cannot use your real name," the clan head advises, searching the demon's face for any trickery.

"It is not," it bristles, offended. "I am not naive. I prefer this name."

After a few more moments assessing the youkai, Matoba reluctantly concedes. It does not even request the name, but simply states it. This youkai is confident and experienced. Despite its young appearance, it could be hundreds of years old. It must know that names hold power. Beautiful and powerful and stubborn.

"Then please sign your name," Matoba grits through teeth. Across the room, he hears his advisor's disapproval in a harsh sigh.

In its own writing, a universal writing system constructed by and for ayakashi, it signs the announced name. When the ink quickly dries, the demon stands from the chabudai, wooden contract in both hands to present to the exorcist. Matoba looks over the placard—'Natsume'—before taking it from the youkai's hands. The creature stares at him, green eyes wide and expectant. The exchange.

Matoba's lips twitch, a little bemused, but mostly apprehensive. With a motion to a nearby attendant, the contract is taken from him. Matoba loosens his shoulders (having become stiff again when green targeted him). The tied back hair is then brought to the front to present to the demon.

Talon-like fingernails carefully scratch down the exorcist's fingers. Matoba shivers. They pull away, and the sharp nails easily slice the cloth hair tie. Black, silky strands splay across the man's shoulder and chest. Now with both hands, the demon collects the hair, letting the black slip through when opening its fingers.

"It's beautiful," the demon whispers to Matoba. The exorcist shudders out a breath. Eyes slowly trail upward through long eyelashes (enchanting and damning and dangerously calculating). The quiet and attention given to Matoba is as if he is the only other being in the room. Eyes never breaking, a hand cards through the hair. There is a grin on the demon's face when it continues, "This is mine."

The exorcist doesn't dare nod, and instead blinks in affirmation. He isn't sure if he is frightened or mesmerized. The youkai understands the gesture, expression softening, smile stretching lips.

"And you are my master."

Kou is to blame for… basically his whole fic. Thanks.