Surprise.
"Natsume!"
At the sound of his wife's screech, Natsume sighed just a little bit. He momentarily toyed with the idea of running away from her again before he decided to actually do it. Blinking his lizard eyes once, he rose on his stout legs and started to scurry away on the rocks, his striped red tail swishing behind him, the heat of the dark rocks not bothering his four feet.
Skitting over moss and avoiding the deep crevices between the rocks, he had almost made it to the sand when very confident fingers firmly picked him up right around his leathery middle. He squirmed and squirmed, but she had already predicted his behavior and knew how to hold him so he wouldn't escape.
She cupped the twisting lizard with both hands, a solid grip on him, holding him up to her annoyed brown eyes.
He flicked his tongue out at her.
"Natsume Hyuuga," she said exasperatedly like a mom scolding her young child, "you promised Narumi and me that we would go to the meeti - hey, hey, look at me! Natsume, look at me!" He squirmed even more in an attempt to escape her, but she was relentless, trying to maintain eye contact; he was very good at avoiding anything he didn't want.
She kept moving him around so she look him directly in the eye, but he simply kept turning his head. And he insolently flicked his tongue out at her again!
With a scowl, his wife harrumphed. "If that's the way you want to do it, Natsume, then we'll go right now!" she threatened, already dressed in her ceremonial gown and robes.
Instantly, Natsume transformed into his preferred human form, dragging his wife's hands down with a surprised "Oomph!" as she landed on top of him, her chin hitting his chest, her hands trapped beneath his suddenly heavier body, and thankfully he had managed to roll them onto the sand and not onto the rocks.
"I don't want to go," he whined with a pout he only showed to his wife. "I already went to one this year. Can't we skip this one?"
Disregarding the slightly uncomfortable position, she chided him: "It is my duty as your wife to ensure you go to all three divine conferences each year." Her eyes softened, and her voice lowered. "It's written in our marriage contract, and we could not have been together without it."
"And I'm already regretting it," he muttered underneath his breath, not intending to hurt but rather to tease. Maybe he could distract her long enough to miss the meeting all together...
Her eyes flashed dangerously. "What did you just say?"
"Nothing," he said innocently, blinking up at her. Sometimes he forgot how sharp she was, especially with those big, expressive brown eyes that held no malice for anybody… and her adorable heart-shaped face that emanated youth and vitality and happiness… and those lips of hers...
He rolled her over gently so they lay side by side, careful not to crush her hand underneath him, his hand propping up his head as his other stroked her cheek.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered to her, and he could feel the tension seep out of her body as she relaxed into his touch. "I want to stay with you forever."
She closed her eyes as he threaded his hand into her long brown hair, brushing it away from her face, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the sand, hearing the consistent lullaby of the waves softly kissing the land. No matter how much they bickered, every day with Natsume felt like paradise.
She didn't even open her eyes as she said resolutely, "We're still going."
Natsume rolled onto his back with a groan, slipping his hand from her, his attempts of distraction futile, before shifting into a creature even smaller than before, a salamander, and made his loving wife carry the tiny glaring amphibian in her hands all the way back to their home.
"Mikan!" greeted the God of Love as she entered the sacred temple. The young brunette woman flashed him a smile and responded with a kiss on both of his cheeks. "How lovely to see you."
Narumi, the ever so affectionate god, squished her cheeks with his hands and cooed adoringly. "You grow more gorgeous by the day. Natsume is a lucky god to have caught your eye. Ah, where is he?"
Mikan continued to smile out of politeness - even for her tastes, Narumi was a bit too touchy-feely, but she supposed it only made sense given his abilities, the emitter of pheromones, the maker of matches. The growing heat radiating from the still grumpy reptile currently curled up in her hidden pocket on her chest informed her that she wasn't the only one displeased by Narumi's seeming lack of boundaries.
She gently gave the pocket over her left breast a tap. "He's close to my heart, as always." Natsume peeked his little black scaly head out just a bit and flicked his tongue out irately.
"Rude as always, I see," sighed Narumi, but his smile never faltered. Natsume had come at least! What a delight! The gods knew they had made a fantastically genius decision to write in this stipulation into Natsume's marriage contract.
"Oh, there's Rei over there! I'm trying to set him up with Nobara," he whispered to Mikan conspiratorially, pointing out the God of Death and the God of Snow, "but the connection between them has been, how do you say, a bit cold and dead. Nevertheless I try. Oh, darling, just look at her, too shy to make a move, and him, too oblivious to even notice. I must go help those poor unfortunate souls. Adieu!"
Narumi flounced away, ready to meddle in others' affairs. Mikan smiled. Though Mikan couldn't handle Narumi's extravagance sometimes, she was still fond of the God of Love; after all, he did bring her Natsume.
As she scanned the temple for familiar faces (the God of Dreams greeted her cheerfully with a wave, inadvertently spilling sand as golden as his hair, and the God of Time nodded cordially at her, looking a bit fuzzy and muddled), she felt Natsume slither out of her pocket and up to her shoulder. The cloth of their ceremonial dress was thick, but he made himself grow bigger and heavier as he wormed out of the small space and changed shape until he reached the size of a regular-sized snake, thin and long, but only enough so he could perch on her shoulder and whisper into her ear.
"We could still leave," Natsume hissed, curling around the cartilage of her ear so his tongue tickled the sensitive tiny hairs near her ear canal. "We showed up. We don't need to sit through another excruciating meeting about politics and updates."
Mikan ignored her husband. If he wanted to sulk, that was his choice, but she took her responsibilities very seriously as the wife of the God of Fire, which included ensuring the God of Fire took his responsibilities very seriously.
The second divine conference of the year coincidentally took place in the sacred temple of Mikan's motherland, and although she had grown up devout, saying her prayers and worshipping the gods as dictated by custom, until she had met Natsume, Mikan had never glimpsed the world of the Gods: secret rooms invisible to the mortal eye, magical abilities beyond imagination, shapeshifting husbands.
The room in which the divine conference took place was not exactly in the temple per say, but rather in a dimension slightly reflected off of the mortal one, accessible only through special powers; powers that Mikan now possessed through her marriage to Natsume. With those powers came the privilege of having a seat (albeit a shared seat) at the conference table, an actual tangible table in the middle of a room with equal seating for all gods. There obviously were some gods who took the initiative to provide leadership and run the conferences and create agendas and take care of all the logistics, but then there were some like Natsume, who shirked his duties whenever possible and refused to join any committee despite the requirement. Because of that, Mikan had to take up his slack, but it was no issue for her; the other gods respected her and treated her as one of their own.
She wasn't the only non-god nor human in the room; of course, other gods brought partners and… pets. The God of Animals, one of Natsume's best friends actually, was conspicuously absent in the room, but Mikan had garnered enough from overheard conversations that he had been excused since it was currently mating season for a large portion of animals in the world at the moment; something Ruka had to ensure went smoothly. Everywhere he went, Ruka always brought along an entire entourage of animals that adored him and that Mikan enjoyed playing with.
Of course, though, the gods undeniably had a darker side, and some of them… did take humans as pets. Or as sacrifices.
Mikan tried to avoid those gods.
Thankfully, though, there a lot of gods she got along with, probably better than Natsume did since he could be antisocial at times.
The God of Shadows called out to her from the opposite of the room, waving her down with a big smile, "Mikan! You can sit by me!"
Before Mikan could acknowledge his offer or worse, run and hug her favorite elder god, Natsume saw the impending disaster and immediately took action by flashing into his human form and tugging his naive wife away from that slimy, womanizing God of Shadows, Tsubasa.
"Nope," he muttered underneath his breath, corralling a protesting Mikan with one arm around her shoulders, "we are going to sit here next to nice old lady Serina and harmless little Youichi. There we go."
The God of Foresight frowned at Natsume as he pulled out the chair next to her and plopped his wife in it. "I'm not that old," she snapped at him, but with little intended malice.
Young Youichi, God of Souls, waved at his favorite couple with a pudgy hand, preferring to remain in a form of a human three year-old ("I dislike the meetings as much as your husband," he had told Mikan flatly, "so if I'm in the form of a baby, people won't ask me stupid things, and I won't have to talk as much. Duh."). Natsume greeted his favorite little prodigy with a nod before using a little bit of magic to expand the seat he had chosen so he could settle comfortably next to his wife.
From across the table, Tsubasa snickered at the God of Fire's very apparent display of jealousy. He loved to rile Natsume up. Mikan smiled at him apologetically and waved at him, and Tsubasa smiled back. Natsume glared at him, then pulled Mikan to his chest and started whispering feverishly into his wife's ear, causing a heavy blush to arise on Mikan's cheeks and neck. After a few moments, Natsume grasping her firmly, Mikan just about melted in his arms with hooded eyes, leaning against him heavily and placing one hand on his knee. Natsume kissed her cheek.
"You two are so gross," scolded Youichi childishly with a scowl. "Why do you sit next to me if you're going to be like this?"
They met when she was seven months old during a particularly icy winter (Nobara, God of Snow, had been super sensitive that year and had gone into a spiral of self-loathing and insecurity that she thankfully recovered from with help and support from many of the other gods). Mikan had caught the shivers, worrying her parents and her grandfather and her village. They prayed to the gods, they swaddled her in blankets, they administered tonics and potions - and they kept her in front of the fire.
For almost every day that winter, when the little baby Mikan looked into the fire, Natsume was looking back.
Mainly out of irritation because for almost every day that winter because Mikan screamed and cried and fussed all day long. If Natsume were a more cruel god, he would have reached out with tendrils of fire or smoke to end the nuisance. But he wasn't one of those gods.
At worst, though, out of spite, he might have given her a heat rash (which he felt immensely guilty for and had apologized to her. One time.).
Natsume simply lived with it and watched her as the fire in her family's hearth. He found that she was less irritating when he sparked and crackled, and she would stop crying and actually start laughing when he changed colors or made little smoke animals that ran up to her and disappeared when she tried to grasp them.
Then one night she got worse. She had been crying all day, and little by little, she grew quieter until by nightfall, she was silent. Her mother called the medicine man, who examined her by candlelight. Up close, Natsume could see how unresponsive and still she had become.
Admittedly, she was just one human of many. She was just one sick baby out of billions throughout history. Natsume had seen humans come and go, begin and end, live and die.
Maybe he was just lonely. Or maybe it was because he didn't have many friends. Or maybe it was because he had spent so much time with her, almost more than he had with any mortal in his eternal life, and she was just a baby. It could have also been because her grandfather was such a devoted worshipper to him, and her village had maintained the shrine to him very well over the years.
Most likely, it was because of all of those reasons that he decided to visit the God of Death, and despite Natsume's inherent disdain and despise for Persona, he cut a deal with him for her life.
And deals with Persona always came at a heavy price. Natsume would never reveal to Mikan the specifics of the deal, even after decades of marriage, but Mikan knew the price was pretty hefty, judging from how he never talked about it, not even during their worst arguments.
All of the village rejoiced at Mikan's miraculous healing the next day, praising the whole litany of gods, letting Natsume's entire realm of godly acquaintances know exactly what he had done: the God of Fire finally picking favorites in the mortal realm. His best friend, Tsubasa, Narumi, Koko, Yuu, and even one of the Three Muses (Hotaru, Muse of Invention) had nagged him endlessly about why he was suddenly so soft toward a human. He was still getting teased about it to this day, despite being married to the grown-up version of that baby.
(She was still kinda a baby. She acted like one sometimes.)
Natsume showed up in her life once more when she was ten years old. It wasn't winter, but summer. As God of Fire, he ensured the heat over the land was bearable, livable, but still strong enough to be called a summer. Of course, while watching over the land, he also watched over his favorite mortal.
Mikan had finished harvesting the watermelons for the day, completing her task earlier than most of the other children in the village her age. She was a dedicated hard worker who relentlessly strove to do her best, disregarding all obstacles. Her stubbornness and her determined antics had brought him amusement often.
Satisfied with her day's work, she called around her village, seeing if any other children wanted to play. Some did, but were quickly pulled back by their parents to their chores. Being the generous and kind soul she was, even as a child, she volunteered to help others: feeding the animals, tending the gardens, carrying buckets of water.
But for some reason, everyone was too engrossed in their own work and nobody needed any extra hands.
Glumly, she sulked around her house, where even her grandfather had finished his work (but was unfortunately taking a nap). She even resorted to picking up a stick and drawing squiggly lines in the dirt, but she wanted to play! She wanted to move!
With a heartbroken sigh and a frustrated groan, she threw the stick to the side and decided to go for a walk. Along the way, she greeted all the other villagers, who greeted her back warmly but shortly because they had their own work to do.
Keeping her own self company, she hummed a little happy tune her grandfather loved. At that moment, Natsume had already kept an observant eye on her mood and her actions. Of course, he was still tending to the summer heat over the land, but… this was the mortal he bargained with the God of Death for; obviously, he had to watch her. He couldn't have her dying all over again and waste his gift.
As a god, Natsume had many abilities, one of which enabled him to hear the thoughts of mortals should he choose to. Often, he was tempted to enter the mind of Mikan, just to see what kind of circus was taking place, but he respected her privacy and actually began a little game with himself to guess what she was thinking through her expressions.
Her face carried such innocence, such openness, such easiness, even for a child. She could never (and probably would never be able to) hide her feelings or her thoughts if she wanted to.
Right now, she was enjoying herself and the sunshine (and the pleasant warmth tickling her skin), but her thoughts were still focused on looking for something to do or for someone to play with.
Then she came across the shrines.
Her parents raised Mikan piously, attributing her salvation as an act of the gods (which was true) so it was only natural to her to stop to pay her respects and to pray.
Ever since the post-healing festivities when she was a baby, her village had happily cleaned up their temple and all their shrines. With Natsume's intervention came a great deal of intrigue; why, after centuries, did the God of Fire finally make such a blatant display of favoritism? Most of the gods, particularly those who personally knew Natsume and his indifference and his coldness (ha) to mortal affairs, grew interested. Natsume thought the amount of attention paid to the tiny village by the gods was absurdly high.
It was just one act of kindness. It was just one baby.
But Natsume wasn't quite thinking objectively or rationally. Of course, with increased worshipping, the gods had to notice the tiny village; increased devotion meant more pleased gods, and with more pleased gods came their gifts and their boons: fresh water, bountiful harvests, wonderful weather, lack of sickness, happiness.
"Hello, it's me again, Mikan. How are you doing?" Natsume wasn't sure what god she was calling upon; it could have been him, it could not have. Either way, he listened. "I hope you are having a wonderful day! Thank you very much for the day. Um, I really like the sun and how warm it is today."
Natsume smirked. With her gratitude, a small form of worship, he could feel himself become more invested in her situation. Anytime any mortal expressed praise or visited a shrine, a little tickle caught the gods' attention. Most of the time, most gods ignored it, except when the worship was directed toward them.
In this case, Natsume was to thank for the warmth. The God of the Sun most likely acknowledged her thanks as well.
On a whim, Natsume sent a silent heat wave (just a little one) toward Mikan, right into her body, right into her heart. Her smile grew just a bit as she felt a pleasant warmth spread in her chest; maybe the gods were listening...
"Thank you for keeping me alive. I really love life and being alive!"
Another point for him. Well, technically, it was a point to the God of Life, but technically, she was alive because of him.
Natsume idly circled above her, his presence happily thrumming. He would never say it explicitly, but he had a huge ego that he absolutely loved to have stroked.
"Thank you for my happy family. I really love my parents and my grandpa. I really love everything I have in life. Um… I don't want to be selfish, but I want to ask you for something."
Since Mikan hadn't indicated a recipient, Natsume supposed he could answer her prayer. But at the same time, he wondered who else was listening; who else was watching her?
"Please send me a friend I can play with."
Suddenly, Natsume felt a strong push from behind, air whooshing past his ears.
Uselessly, he tried to resist against the wind, the strange force pulling at him. It flipped him, it twisted him, it took the breath out of his lungs.
Oh fuck no.
Was it the God of Wind? Because Natsume would murder Hayate after this.
"Umph!" he grunted, landing on the dirt hard, his jaws shutting and teeth hitting each other because of the impact. If he didn't have the breath knocked out of him earlier, he did now. By the gods, his body hurt. Not to mention, the curious aching sensation in his joints.
"Are you okay?" came a muffled voice, as though they were underwater and very far apart.
"What?" he groaned, fighting against the bright sunlight to open his eyes.
The voice grew clearer and more familiar: "You just fell out of the sky!"
Thankfully, a shadow fell over his face, and he could open his eyes to look straight up at the face of Mikan, who loomed over him curiously. She reached down to lend him a hand, which he accepted as she helped pull him up.
Pull him up to her height. He could look her right in the eye. He looked down at his body and scowled. Of course.
He was stuck in the body of a ten year-old human. Natsume pushed against the physical restraints limiting him to that body, but the magic he felt surrounding him was not his own; it felt syrupy, drawing to mind heady love potions and sickly sweet affection.
Narumi.
"What are you doing here?" asked Mikan breathlessly. He had fallen out of the sky!
Natsume decided honestly was the best policy. His favorite human was a bit slow, but she wasn't dumb. She probably wouldn't understand any sarcasm he used on her, either. Maybe in a few years' time, but not when she was still barely a kid. "I was sent by the gods. You asked for a friend to play with. Well, here I am."
Her eyes grew wide and she sucked in a breath. "Really? They heard that?!"
"Yes, the gods can hear and see most things," Natsume smirked, "including your polka-dotted underwear."
She glared the sky in anger, and even though he had taken mortal form, Natsume could still hear her thoughts: Dear gods, next time, send me a less perverted friend!
Natsume liked seeing her so worked up, but he liked to see her happy as well. "You want to go play?" he offered.
Pervertness forgotten, Mikan exclaimed "Yes!" and reached for his hand so she could tug him along as they ran toward the creek.
"Any other new business?" asked Yuu, the God of Dreams. Though he appeared non-threatening and friendly, when he really wanted to, he could radiate an aura of authority and control that nobody dared question. "No? Then I declare the second divine conference in the Year of the Dragon concluded."
With those words, some gods chose to take their exit, disappearing elsewhere through instant teleportation, while others chose to mingle and catch up with some of their friends they hadn't seen in a while or ask for favors.
"That wasn't so bad. We finished earlier than we expected," said Mikan good-naturedly, rising from her seat. Natsume scowled at her.
"It was still an hour of my time, an hour of my life wasted." Mikan ignored her husband's grumbles, which only made him grumble more because he hated being ignored. Like why would she not want to talk to him? "Ugh. Hold me."
Before he could transform into another one of his animal forms, Mikan suddenly reached for his hand. She flashed him a grin, the special one intended to melt his heart. The world slowed down as he admired the magnificent view.
She stepped closer to her husband, the grin still on her face, as she laced her fingers with his, holding both of his hands in between them. Mikan didn't even need to speak; all she had to do was stand there with that smile and blink slowly at him, brown eyes peering up at him through her lashes. She coyly looked down before returning to look at him, biting the corner of her lip.
Oh, she was good.
Natsume didn't complain any more as he followed her like a puppy, leashed by their connected hands.
Natsume hadn't really anticipated having a domestic life. Sure, some gods chose to marry each other or settle down, especially since Narumi seemed to be on the warpath, pairing up as many gods as he saw fit.
But Natsume had been so alone for so long. He controlled fire, which burned everyone who got close. He didn't need anyone else to warm his bed. He was independent; what more could he need in his life?
Of course he couldn't have imagined himself settling down with a wife, much less a human one.
But now that he was in it, he couldn't really imagine any other life for himself.
They were in their home, Mikan cooking and Natsume resting, already having finished the cleaning and the renewal of the protection wards to safeguard their house.
It was nice. And it was happy.
Natsume perked up, looking up from his manga (childish, yes, but extremely enjoyable) to slowly scan the limited view allowed by the windows of the outside.
"Who is it?" asked Mikan, one hand on the handle of the skillet, the other holding a wooden spatula to stir the beef around.
Natsume's answer was confusing: "It's not someone, but it's someone." Then he took his legs off the table and walked toward the front door, but once he reached it, he stopped and turned back around.
Mikan tasted her cooking, then added more pepper.
A perplexed Natsume dashed up the stairs, his loud footsteps not bothering his wife. Sometimes, she swore he behaved like a cat, going anywhere he wanted and acting unpredictably.
After several seconds of walking back and forth upstairs, he came back down the stairs. "I can't find it," he muttered, going toward the back of the house. He returned to the kitchen, scratching the back of his head, looking both disgruntled and intrigued.
Mikan turned off the stove, gave her skillet once last shake to stir things around, and began to empty the contents onto a serving plate. Natsume walked right past her. Then, he paused, mid-step and rewound himself back to her.
He leaned in and began lifting her hair and pulling at her clothes, making Mikan a bit peeved with the sudden disturbance.
"What are you doing?" She lightly whacked his hand with the still oily spatula.
"You seeing someone?" he asked suspiciously, ignoring her question and sniffing about her hair.
Mikan glared at him. A long time ago, Natsume would have been the one offended by his implication, but he had long learned to erase his insecurities; after all, why would Mikan ever want someone who wasn't him? He was so great.
But he still got a bit jealous when there was someone real and tangible and utterly nefarious, like Tsubasa, who seemed intent on leading his naive wife down a dark path. She was too trusting for her own good; of course, he needed to protect her from Tsubasa's licentious clutches.
Natsume continued to search his wife's body, trying to find that smell of someone else, fingers going lower and lower, tickling Mikan, who giggled and was still unsure if this maybe was Natsume's new method of seduction.
He kneeled down and turned Mikan around against her cry of protest, still holding the skillet and the spatula, so she wasn't facing the stove anymore, and suddenly, he found it.
Natsume was paralyzed for a moment, then he looked up in awe at his puzzled wife. Gingerly, he pressed his ear against her tummy.
There wasn't a heartbeat yet, but there was someone there; a barely there, a barely formed, demi-god presence.
Of course, Mikan couldn't hear or feel what Natsume could so there she stood, her husband acting strange, pressing his face against her stomach, whispering to it.
"What?" she finally asked. Then she figured it out, arriving at the correct conclusion but in astonishment. She hadn't noticed anything changing, and she certainly couldn't feel anything. She put down her cooking utensils to place her hand on her tummy as well.
Mikan wanted confirmation: "Natsume, are we having a baby?"
"It's so new," murmured Natsume. He turned to face her tummy. "Hey there, little one."
The birth went smoothly; with all the gods' blessings on their side, how could it not? Unfortunately, it was not the birth Natsume and Mikan had to worry about.
It was the child-rearing.
Mikan shrieked. "Put it out, put it out! Natsume, do something! Those are my favorite curtains!"
"What am I supposed to do?" roared Natsume, his powers clashing against his son's, "Add more fire?! It's his fire, not mine!"
Their baby gurgled with delight, slapping his hands together with enthusiasm, watching the pretty flames destroy his mother's nice furniture. He fell over with laughter.