Natsume felt disconnected.
From his body, from his emotions, and more disconnected from the world than he had ever had cause to feel before. He had always been different from everyone around him.
But at least before he had still been human.
That thought had a surge of emotion rising up from deep inside of him that he had no way to combat against, so he shoved it back down and glanced into the darkening sky outside of the taxi window, allowing the passing of city lights and calm pedestrians to put him back into an almost hypnotic type of trance. He couldn't deal with the buzzing thoughts or tumultuous emotions right now, so he chose to not think at all.
Nyanko sat curled up in Natsume's lap, still sleeping. It worried Natsume, but Hiiragi had said he would be fine. She said he had overstrained himself for Natsume's sake. It made him both happy and guilty all at once. He hadn't let go of the pig-cat since his fingers had first latched onto the spirit in the back yard of the Fujiwaras after Natori's unexpected and rather frightening arrival.
Natori. . .
Natori-san hadn't left Natsume's side until after he had apologized profusely. Natsume had waved him off, saying it was fine.
But his neck still burned slightly where the shikigami had touched his neck.
Natsume had never felt so much pain before in his life. Sure, he had never liked shikigami, especially after Matoba had used them to keep Natsume prisoner after kidnapping him. But even then, wrapped wrist to elbow in shikigami and spirit bindings, he had only felt a slight discomfort and a worrying amount of weakness and tiredness. It had never hurt before, and the effects had never lasted longer than the contact he had had with the spiritual paper.
It was terrifying, the new power that the shikigami seemed to hold over him, but he didn't understand why it was happening. Nyanko-sensei was sleeping, so he couldn't ask him. And Natori-san would burden himself with guilt if he knew how much his attack had really hurt and shaken Natsume.
So Natsume pretended that he was fine. He was good at pretending such things after all.
"Right at the next light, please." Natori's voice made Natsume jump, pulling him from his dark thoughts. The taxi driver turned obediently, and Natsume felt his weight shift slightly across the seat toward Natori as they rounded the corner.
Natori had been amazing, despite his attack on Natsume. Once he had come to realize that Natsume was himself and not some child-eating ayakashi, he had instantly transformed back into the shifty, capable exorcist Natsume had become friends with over time. He had bustled Natsume into the house, packed a small night bag for him, and called for a taxi. Still overwhelmed by everything, Natsume had gone along with it all, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to ask about how they would handle the Fujiwaras.
Who couldn't see him anymore. Could they love him anymore, if he didn't technically exist to humans now?
Natori shook his shoulder, and Natsume jumped in shock. Natsume watched as one of Natori's cocky overly-flowery smiles began to form, just to drift into a very heavy frown a moment later. Without a word, Natori gestured toward the open door. They had arrived. Natsume pulled Nyanko-sensei to his body more securely and slid out of the car after Natori.
Natsume had been to Natori's apartment before, but every time he was struck by how plain it was. For a famous actor and a rather successful exorcist, Natori did not flaunt his money. His home was small, but cozy. Plain, but pleasant. As Natori opened the door and gestured for Natsume to enter, Natsume felt a sudden strange itch at the back of his head, causing him to pause cautiously.
He felt spooked for an unexplainable reason he could not identify. Something in him said it was dangerous. He should back away, stay away. But Natori looked tired and worried, so Natsume shrugged it off and took a step forward anyway.
The shock he got as he tried to enter the doorway was not pleasant at all, and sent him hissing to his knees. Nyanko-sensei stirred in his grip, but did not wake.
Natori pulled him up a moment later, pushing him away from the door and setting him gently against the hallway wall.
"Sorry, Natsume. I forgot. Give me a moment." Natori murmured hastily. He entered the apartment and came out a moment later with a small shikigami. Natsume looked at it uneasily, but not resisting as Natori gently lifted Natsume's hand and placed it on the small paper. Natsume tensed, waiting for pain. His eyes popped open a moment later when nothing happened. He looked up at Natori's grim face and felt instantly guilty. He had given himself away, and now his friend would be more aware than he needed to be of the pain and fear his shikigami had instilled after today's altercation.
"Can you push some of your spiritual energy into this so my protective barriers will let you into the apartment?" Natori asked patiently. Natsume nodded, and did as asked.
His power came more willingly to his summons than expected, and he felt a small breeze pick up around him and the light that had surrounded him since his change brightened for a moment before settling as Natsume released his power. The shikigami looked a little burnt around the edges, but still intact when he glanced down at it.
Natori whistled, but wandered back inside with the paper. Natsume felt like he should stand, but lacked the energy or motivation to move. An older man and his wife came out of one of the rooms and wandered past Natsume at a leisurely pace.
"What's a strange cat doing sleeping out in the hallway?" The wife giggled at her husband. He made a noncommittal humming noise back at her before answering.
"Maybe he's waiting for someone to bring him fish. I think I want fish for dinner, dear."
"You always want fish." She scoffed back at him lightly.
The two were soon out of sight, and Natsume felt tears burning at the corner of his eyes again. He closed his eyes to try and alleviate the pain that accompanied hours of crying, but he still felt the tears fall.
Strong arms picked him up moments later. Natsume didn't have the energy to fight them off, and instead rested his head against Natori's shoulder, grateful that at least one person could see him. He had always sympathized with the spirits who craved human interaction, but he hadn't realized quite how painful the truth of it really was until now. He felt like his life had crumpled around him and there was nowhere to seek shelter. Natori's presence and support made the storm seem less frightening, somehow.
After settling Natsume on the couch, Natori wandered off toward the kitchen. Natsume listened to his retreating steps, not bothering to open his eyes. He listened as Natori called a nearby shop and ordered in dinner for two. It was nice of him, and Natsume hadn't eaten since breakfast, but he didn't think he would be able to stomach dinner. The thought of food made him nauseous.
"Ah, hello, Mrs. Fujiwara?" Natsume's eyes popped open without his permission and he found himself turning to face Natori. Natori made and held eye contact with him from across the room.
"This is Natori Shuuichi, do you remember me? Yes, Natsume's friend. I am calling because I just so happened to run into Natsume today, and he seems to have tired himself out and fallen asleep. Its dark enough out that I didn't want to worry you, but I feel apprehensive sending him home alone. Do you mind if I keep him over for the night even though it's late notice? You are a saint, Touko-san. I will have him back to you tomorrow. Its no trouble, really. Yes, you too, have a wonderful night."
Natori set the phone down and made his way over to the couch. Natsume tracked his movement, his thoughts running a mile a minute. When Natori sank into the couch next to him with a sigh, Natsume tore his eyes away from the man to look at the floor in shame.
"Sorry for the inconvenience, sir." He whispered. He hadn't meant for his voice to come out so quiet but didn't know how to fix that right now, with so many worries and concerns flying about in his head. A hand settled gently on his head, ruffling his hair.
Natsume glared up at him with a scowl on instinct before he could even think about it, and in an instant, he felt himself calm considerably. He hadn't felt normal or much like himself at all today, and to fall back into old patterns helped push the stress from his shoulders.
"We will figure this out, kid." Natori-san said confidently. "I've got a few ideas. We will have you back at the Fujiwaras soon, just you wait and see."
Natsume didn't know that he believed that. It was too idealistic and perfect and Natsume had suffered too much to believe that life would just work out the way he wanted it to. But if Natsume had learned anything living with the Fujiwaras, it was that sometimes you could trust adults. And if he had learned anything about Natori in the time that he had come to know him, it was that Natori didn't say things he didn't believe.
So Natsume decided that he would trust in Natori's words. Even if a small voice in the back of his head said it was only going to hurt him to do so.
…
Matoba was not pleased.
He had made himself a nice little fantasy about how today would go and was not enthralled by the many shikigami he had found scattered about the yard of the Fujiwara house upon his arrival. No one had been home when he arrived, but it was obvious that an annoying, second-rate exorcist by the no-good name of Natori had been on the premises and stolen Matoba's prize.
Matoba didn't know everything that had happened at Natsume's current residence before his arrival, but based on the reports he had received, he had hoped that whatever new and frightening ayakashi the boy had meddled with this time would be the key to forcing the boy's hand and finally win him over for the Matoba clan.
The boy was immensely powerful. Unbelievably so. And since the delectable news of the existence of such a thing as a 'Book of Friends' had reached his ear, and in the possession of the very boy he had spent months attempting to capture and retain. . . Matoba was honest enough with himself to admit that he may have become a smidge obsessed. The things he could accomplish with that boy and his Book of Friends. He would be unstoppable.
Which is why he found it so frustrating that the boy was not here.
Never one to waste time, Matoba left the Fujiwara residence before he could be noticed and made his way back to the clan car that had brought him here. It wouldn't do to have rumors spread of his visit and set his prey on edge. Better to catch the boy by surprise another day when Natori wouldn't be so close at hand to help the child.
But soon the boy and his book would belong to Matoba.
…
Natori heaved a sigh as he watched Natsume finally succumb to sleep. Natsume had curled into a protective ball around that dumb pig-cat of his, taking up only a small portion of the couch. It probably wasn't the most comfortable position he could have chosen, but Natori didn't dare attempt to move the kid considering how high-strung Natsume had been since Natori had found him.
Which was mostly his fault.
Natori prided himself on being a good exorcist. The kind that didn't do harm to the humans in the vicinity. He didn't care so much about not hurting the yokai, admittedly, but he felt he had a much larger moral compass than clans like Matoba's, who reveled in the blood they spilled and cared little for the lives of any but their contractors.
Natori was not like them. He cherished life. But he had hurt Natsume today. The screams of pain echoed in his head, and he was vividly aware of the flinches Natsume had attempted to subdue. He had seen how Natsume had clutched at his neck absently like it hurt.
It probably did. Natori hadn't held back in his attack, and the shikigami he had held to the boy's neck was one of the strongest offensive charms he knew. Strong ayakashi, large monstrous brutes had fallen due to the pain of that charm.
He had used it on kind, selfless Natsume.
Natsume, who was now an ayakashi, a yokai, a spirit, a thing he had dedicated his life to destroying, and sealing, and hating.
Natori knew that things would not be the same as they had been before. He could not treat Natsume as he had treated all the other yokai the man had come across before. He would have to change. He would have to do better, be better. Natsume had helped him see some of the good in ayakashi before. Hopefully the boy would be able to help him some more.
With that in mind, Natori thought it was best he found his own way to help Natsume. He had told Natsume that everything would be okay, and he meant it. He would exhaust all his resources to help the boy return to the Fujiwaras. Natsume was happy with them in his life, and Natori refused to see Natsume lose anything that brought him happiness.
Natori had the feeling it was going to be a long night.
…
Nyanko woke to the delectable smell of bacon and a mouth already dripping with saliva. He was starving! And, he discovered as he wobbled to his cat-pig paws, very tired. His spiritual core hadn't completely recharged itself from the strain he placed on it by overusing it to repel his curse. But, glancing up at the sleeping child that was loosely curled around him on the couch, he figured that just this once such a strain was fine.
The brat Natsume looked mostly peaceful in sleep. If it weren't for the unhappy frown half-formed on his face and the crease between his brows, Nyanko would be satisfied. He would deal with the boy after breakfast.
Taking in his surroundings for the first time, Nyanko realized they were not at the Fujiwaras' house. A glance at a nearby cluttered desk and a whiff of stinky air alerted Nyanko to the fact that they were in the home of an exorcist.
Nyanko only knew of one exorcist who lived in such a humble and unassuming home.
Natori. The exorcist who knew about the Book of Friends. A friend of Natsume's, but a threat Nyanko thought not worth the risk as such a dangerous acquaintance. He had tried to keep Natsume away from the man but had failed when Natsume's kind nature got involved.
The annoying brat just liked to make work for poor, dear Nyanko-sensei.
Nyanko supposed the stinky exorcist had his uses. He was a good deterrent against Matoba and other, stinkier, exorcists. His shikigami were even useful when they weren't targeted at Nyanko. The man could be helpful in human places where Nyanko lacked the understanding to help and the ability to assist his young charge. Nyanko would rather be stuck forever in the stupid cat-pig form than admit it to the smelly exorcist, though.
Natsume stirred, and Nyanko pressed himself reassuringly against the boy's side as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. The sleepy gold sparkled and shimmered under the morning light from the window. Under the sun's rays, Nyanko could almost ignore the powerful glow around the boy. The squiggly lines that began dancing across his skin was another matter.
"Good morning!" Natori's tired but suspiciously chipper voice rang out from behind them, making both Natsume and Nyanko jump in surprise. Nyanko was gleeful to discover that when he turned to face the man, he also came face to face with a heavenly arrangement of breakfast food. He darted over and onto the table fast enough he didn't even register the steps that got him there. Natsume came over at a much more sedate pace, but when Nyanko stopped eating long enough to come up for air, he was glad to see the boy was eating at least a little bit.
Natori didn't press for conversation, contenting himself to watch the two eat over his own plate. Nyanko kept an eye on the man out of habit. The exorcist was fidgeting every few minutes, before he would catch himself and still. The lizard that used the man as a playground wiggled onto his face and made leisurely loops around the man's eyes. It accentuated how tired he looked. Nyanko didn't think the man had slept at all last night.
"I think I may have come up with a solution for you, Natsume," Natori said at last, and only after Natsume had stopped eating. "At least, a temporary fix while we work on something more permanent."
Nyanko felt warm as he watched Natsume perk up and sit straighter in his chair. He looked at Natori expectantly, but didn't make a sound. Natori stood and made his way over to the cluttered desk and picked up a light green jacket. Bringing it over, he presented it to Natsume. Natsume looked unimpressed, but Nyanko appraised the jacket with the eyes of a skilled yokai. He could vaguely sense a sort of power over the jacket that reminded him of Natori's shikigami, but that made no sense. What could a jacket do to help Natsume? Natsume seemed about ready to voice the same question when Natori began speaking again.
"The biggest problem right now is that no one can see or hear you." Natori proved the ineptitude of all exorcists by stating the obvious. Nyanko wanted to jump in with a cutting insult but recognized that Natsume needed answers more than Nyanko needed entertainment. He shifted into a more comfortable position to watch the humans and was rewarded when Natori opened the jacket and displayed its insides. Runes and spells were written in small but powerful layers across the inner jacket lining.
"It took a few hours to figure it out, but I believe this configuration of spell work should allow you to be not only visible to humans, but also cause them to see only an illusion of how you looked. . . before."
Natsume looked down at his hands for a moment, his expression a blank mask even Nyanko had a hard time reading, before he reached up and with slightly shaking fingers grasped the jacket in a death grip. The unmarked skin on his hands turned a stark white from the fierce grip. With slow and hesitant movements, Natsume pulled the jacket on. The jacket was too large and covered all but the tips of Natsume's fingers. Natsume didn't seem to mind, simply hiking the jacket up to his elbows.
Nyanko was unimpressed.
"He looks the same." Natsume stared down at his marked hands, a small frown slowly growing on his face as he bleakly came to the same conclusion.
There was a sharp knock at the door that effectively kept Natori from responding to the desolate faces of his two guests. Before he could even reach his front door, the nosy old woman who lived next door invited herself in.
"Pardon me, Shuichi-kun, I need to borrow your—Oh, hello, Natsume-kun! Long time no see! Sorry to intrude, I'm just here to borrow Natori's sesame." The old woman seemed oblivious to the shocked silence that had come over the room. She stole into the kitchen with practiced ease, grabbed the sesame and let herself out with a short salutation.
At the quiet snick of the door closing, Natsume came out of his daze and collapsed to the ground in a heap. Nyanko was at his side instantly, settling himself into the boy's lap in a show of support. The brat's breath hitched, but Nyanko was thankful to see that no tears fell.
"Thank you, Natori." Natsume murmured, clasping onto Nyanko. "Thank you so much."
Natori smiled, crouching down to meet Natsume's eyes at the same level.
"It's time to get you home."
