A/N: I have always been fascinated with the way spirits can "smell" humans. I also wanted to explore how Natsume's basic needs and wants might have changed. This drabble is the result.

A Different Perspective

I cannot shake off the feeling that I have done this before, countless times. It is hard to accept that not too long ago, I had pretended to be a spirit. Pretending to be a human is easier in some ways, but the knowledge of what I used to be makes it harder, somehow, than pretending to be a spirit had ever been.

"Takashi-kun! It's time to wake up!"

"Y-yes!"

He shoots up from the futon, rubbing his eyes out of habit, but not out of necessity. Gods, he's found out, don't get things in their eyes that need to be washed out after a night's rest. Much to his surprise, Natsume has discovered that he can sleep. It is something that Nyanko-sensei still teases him for on occasion, and in retrospect, Natsume can see the humor. After all, he's had living proof sleeping next to him nearly every night for awhile now.

And the stupid cat is still sleeping.

A loud rumble flows from the cat's mouth, and Natsume bites back a smile. Not just sleeping, but snoring also.

"Nyanko-sensei," he says, using his left foot to poke the fat cat in the approximate area of its ribs.

"Mmrowblargh," the cat says, and rolls over, still snoring heavily.

Sighing, Natsume gets ready for school alone.

He is reminded constantly by the awareness that he is in a house inhabited by humans. The scent—Natsume does not know any better word to describe it, though it is not precisely smell—permeates the very grounds of the house. It is a mix of sensation, the immediate knowledge of emotions, personality, and power, all unique to every being. As he steps into the bathroom, Natsume is aware that Shigeru-san had been there earlier; a warm scent, not over-powering, but nevertheless firm, giving flavor to an otherwise ordinary signature. Interestingly, there is nothing to indicate sex, demonstrating the truth of the statement that spirits do not recognize the fundamental differences that humans take for granted.

Mealtimes remain an uneasy affair. Natsume is distinctly aware that he no longer needs to eat. His body is never hungry, at least not for human food. Misuzu has assured Natsume that so long as there are spirits worshipping him, hunger will remain a thing of the past.

And with worshippers increasing daily, that eventuality is unlikely to happen.

"How is it?" Touko-san asks with a smile.

"It's delicious," Natsume replies, struggling to copy her expression.

And it is.

He might no longer feel true hunger, but Natsume can taste the love and care mixed into the food he is now eating, and that wakens an avarice in him that can only belong to the new spirit side of him. It is a heady feeling, like drinking cold water from a stream in the height of summer. The thought gives him pause, and he hesitates biting into the fish, simply reveling in the emotions that rise from it, the scents that make up the kind, caring woman that is Touko-san. No wonder Nyanko-sensei rarely misses a meal.

Perhaps he is coming at this from the wrong angle. After all, while he no longer feels hunger, the reverse is also true: he never truly feels full either. Human food, as Nyanko-sensei has repeatedly told him, is wonderful and varied. There is no reason why Natsume cannot continue to enjoy it, and no longer distracted by things like hunger, it only means Natsume is free to concentrate solely on enjoying the taste.

Which, if Nyanko-sensei is any indication, means Natsume will triple in weight in a month, assuming that gods are capable of becoming overweight.

"Done already?" Touko-san says, looking concerned.

"Yes," Natsume says firmly. He carries the empty bowls and plates to the kitchen sink, and reminds himself to never ask for more than what Touko-san offers him.

It is probably best to be careful.