Natsume felt like an observer, disconnected and floating above an unfamiliar scene. Glowing shaky fingers were curling slowly, light streaking from his fingers into tallony claws. In front of him, the looming, thrashing ayakashi that would die for Nyanko-sensei. As he took a step closer, he watched as the glowing shikigami holding the yokai snapped out of existence, one by one, almost in slow motion, its hulking form sinking towards him in a second suspended in silence. A bellow broke from its form as it crashed forward and without thought Natsume reacted.

With a small hand gesture from Natusme a heady and heavy pressure filled the room, pushing down on everyone inside the room but Natsume. The one-eyed yokai crashed to the ground, pinned in place by a shimmer of gold that hung visible through the room.

The fight left it as Natsume approached. It lowered its gaze in submission as he came to a stop in front of it, claws extended for execution.

"I am sorry." The many layers of Natsume's voice were full of sorrow. Natsume felt tears gather in his eyes as he looked down on the poor creature before him.

"It is honorous to fall to one so great, godling-sama." The beast rumbled. "May my last request be that Godling-sama blesses my passing, that I may enter a better realm of existence, and that my remains may build thy power."

"Thy wish is heard." Natsume's claws sang as they moved, sinking into the spirit's bound form. "It is my duty to fulfill thy request."

…..

The pressure in the air was daunting. All of Matoba's underlings had long-since fled to the corners of the room, but Matoba stood proud, soaking it in even as he struggled to breath through the powerful presence flooding the room. Matoba watched with a smug grin. It was unfortunate that the one-eyed nuisance and his pet had begun to converse in the foreign tongue of the yokai. Matoba sensed he was missing something. It was a pity the shiki could not speak the language of ayakashi, but that just meant he would have to drag the information from his powerful new asset.

As the coppery scent of blood permeated the room, Matoba took his rightful place overlooking his pet.

It was shaking, glowing eyes wide and filled with tears, staring at the dead yokai in front of it. The powerful aura which had dominated the room moments before was fading fast, the light going out like a slowly fading ember after a blazing fire ran out of wood. Matoba rested a hand on Natsume's shoulder, to draw his eye, and was satisfied to feel him tense under the unexpected touch as the spirit focused on him.

"Good boy." He cooed. "I suppose your strange dog gets to see another day, for now. But Natsume, your disobedience cannot go unpunished."

It was with great pleasure that Matoba watched a shiver work its way up the boy's spine as his eyes lowered in submission, glancing briefly at the sealed jar Matoba held tauntingly just out of his reach.

"Now," Matoba allowed a smirk to grace his features as Natsume's eyes darted up to meet his again with wary alarm. "I believe this is a fitting first punishment." He dramatically activated several runes on the sealed jar that would elicit great pain for the yokai inside.

"NO!" Natsume cried, reaching out instinctively towards the jar. Matoba harshly pushed the boy to the ground, satisfied to see the last of his power's glow fade to nothing as his eyes glistened with tears of horror.

"You knew the consequences of disobedience." He replied slowly. "This is your fault, Takashi."

"No...please, no." The boy's voice broke as he curled into himself, and this, this is what Matoba had been waiting to see today, and a true smile split his face.

It was in moments like these, when Natsume Takashi was at his most vulnerable, that Matoba was reminded of the child's fragile nature. Curled into himself like this he seemed small and breakable. The boy may have the lungs to run for days, but besides that all of his strength had always been internal. A spirit too big to fit the body, a soul too powerful for physical expression. A child, with eyes too old and full of experience for his age. That fighting spirit had intimidated Matoba, was something more than he could understand and a work of art he knew he wanted for his own once he had seen its strength.

Today, that goal had been realized.

"Please, Matoba, stop hurting him!" Natsume sobbed.

"That is not my name, pet."

As Natsume stiffened and began to lift his head, and before Matoba could see his victory through the child's eyes, a crashing, banging wail tore through the room.

Natsume's focus had shifted just enough for him to see the sealed jar jump in Matoba's hand. Matoba's reaction speed, while good, was still not fast enough for a terrified, cornered yokai.

Natsume pushed. The jar dropped.

And the world exploded in white fur and blue scales.

…..

Nyanko sensei was furious. And in a lot of pain. (Being cramped in such a small space did horrible things to one's bones.) But mostly he was furious.

Natsume's pain was a lingering and potent smell that burned his sensitive nose. And was that-did he smell blood?!

Nyanko's eyes weren't working properly. Everything was blurry and out of focus. The light in the room burned his eyes.

"N'ts'me?" His tongue wasn't working very well either apparently.

"Nyanko-sensei!"

Nyanko couldn't help the flood of relief hearing Natsume's voice. He may not know where they were or what was going on, but if Natsume was safe, they could make everything else work.

The stink of blood and rage and exorcists made him rethink just how safe his boy was however. Small hands grasped his fur, the smell of salt permeating the air around his boy.

"Nyanko-sensei!" Like the words of a magic spell, Nyanko felt himself responding automatically, curling protectively around the small body clutching at him like a lifeline. Before Nyanko can decide to do anything else, his blurry vision making it hard to identify what he should even do, a sharp pain in his side pulls a howl from him.

The change is an automatic thing after so long, self-preservation ingrained to utilize the change rather than fight it, make a smaller target. The hands that had felt so tiny clutching at his fur a second ago are now large and warm and comforting as he fights to see and hear and not feel. His cursed form helps, dulling the sharp pain that had been inflicted on his true form.

"That was a bad choice, Natsume." Nyanko is a dignified spirit, but for a Matoba, he thinks he can get away with a less dignified response. He hisses. Natsume's arms, which had felt so warm and secure, were now clammy and shaking.

What had this abhorrent exorcist done to his boy?!

"N-Nyanko-sensei." Natsume whispered in horror, his hands tightening around Nyanko as he took several wilting steps backwards. His fear and horror stung Nyanko's nose. Nyanko felt helpless, still unable to see or move properly.

"Godling-sama," an unfamiliar voice nearby made Nyanko's ear twitch in surprise. "We are here for you, and we will teAr YouR eNEmIeS tO ShREaDS."

Was that...the sound of a yokai entering a rage? A pungent smell reached his nose as the yokai let out its energy into the room. Nyanko wrinkled his nose. Not just any yokai, it was a god going into a rage.

"Nat's'me-" Darn it, why wasn't his tongue working?! "H's 'nt'ing ar'ge. 'Nlyu c'n s'opim."

"Nyanko-sensei, wha-?" Natsume started.

"Natsume!" That voice Nyanko recognized. It was that stinky exorcist!

"Natori-san!" Natsume's voice cracked and Nyanko felt his hackles raise at the audible confirmation of the boy's distress. Nyanko had no idea how long he had been trapped, no idea how long Natsume had been without him. During the stressful transition to a spirit, Natsume's psyche had been especially fragile. It pulled at old instincts Nyanko didn't like to face, things he wasn't good at doing anymore. Things he was physically incapable of doing right now as his body clumsily executed his intentions. Reluctantly, Nyanko was relieved by the exorcist's presence.

"Natsume, are you okay?" Nyanko's nose wrinkled up as the exorcist wrapped his arms around Natsume in a strangling hold, squishing up against Nyanko unintentionally.

"Natori-san! Natori, I- He made me- I had to-" Nyanko can feel Natsume's heart fluttering fast and anxious like a bird's where he is pressed up against the boy.

"It's okay. We're here, Natsume. We're here." Natori's voice is soft, soothing some of Natsume's panic.

"Well isn't this just the sweetest little reunion?" Matoba's voice cuts in, condescension dripping from his voice. Blind and weak as Nyanko is, it makes his hackles rise instinctively, trying to make himself larger and more intimidating.

"Matoba, what's the meaning of this?" Natori's voice is accusatory, but holds a tinge of disbelief and horror.

"Quite a sight isn't it?" Matoba's voice becomes smug. "I've dreamed of this day for ages, and now thanks to Natsume here, I'm free from the shackles of my predecessor's mistakes. However, I am not done with him yet, so you will kindly return him to me now."

"Ov'r my de'd body." Nyanko growls, tongue stumbling over the words but cohesive, hackles rising even farther. Despite not enjoying his time trapped in a jar, it had given him some forceful and much needed rest. His energy, which had been trapped inside him as he had been bound, now oozed into the room. The smell of ozone, like lightning about to strike, crackled through the air. Nyanko may not be able to see or move, but his energy was enough to be lethal. And unlike Natsume, Nyanko had never had any qualms about killing. Especially not something as tainted and dark as the greedy and cruel exorcist who stood before him. Not when his boy was covered in the man's stench and huddled against Nyanko's side, drenched in blood and despair.

"Your death can be gladly arranged." Matoba said, consideringly. "Natsume needs a reminder of his place and you find ways to become a nuisance far too easily for my liking."

A hiss fills the air and it takes a moment for Nyanko to place it. Natsume was hissing like a kit, metaphorical hackles raised as some new instinct in him rises to the surface at the threat to Nyanko. Affection rushes through Nyanko for a second at his boy, but it is quickly overlaid with horror as a new smell enters his nose. A gratingly sweet smell like caramel burning. Natsume...is Natsume entering a rage?

"Natsume! Don't-" Nyanko starts to warn, but then a loud roar reverberates from behind them, shaking the foundation of the building around them and stealing Nyanko's attention.

Right. There was another yokai already in a rage here. From the smell of it, it was powerful, another god even.

If Nyanko had his full faculties about himself, this wouldn't be a problem, but as it was, the room was still just a rolling mass of black and gray blurs, which meant the only spirit he knew of with enough power to stop the raging spirit was Natsume.

...who didn't know how to pull a spirit from a rage.

…..

Natori was feeling a little overwhelmed. And quite a bit exhausted. He had been running himself thin for days trying to track down Natsume, and then had hiked for hours through the forest with Natsume's strange friends only to stumble into what looked like the biggest pit of illegal exorcist activity (more like cult activity if you asked him) he had ever seen. And he had busted quite a few illegal exorcist rings in his early brash days. Who sealed a door with innocent blood?! Was Matoba truly that cold-hearted?!

Thankfully, when the god - seriously, how did Natsume know a god? - had forcefully broken through the door, it had only blown the door off its hinges and disoriented the dog spirits, who had then stumbled drunkenly and loudly into the room to start harassing exorcists and cause a distraction. Natori had bigger things to worry about, and a very angry looking Hinoe had been hovering behind the spirits, so Natori was sure things would be fine. Mostly.

That was when he saw the blood, well, actually that wasn't true. He had first noticed it as he had slipped and nearly tumbled into a growing pool of blood. His eyes morbidly followed it to the source, heart pounding in fear. It was enough blood loss to kill a man, let alone a small kid like Natsume. Natsume who had always been small and scrawny and a little underweight and definitely recovering from extensive malnourishment and didn't eat when he was stressed and who could be bleeding out and dying because Natori was too late to-

"Natsume!" Natori cried out in relief as he saw the boy, alive and whole next to the corpse of a giant ayakashi.

He had not expected to find Natsume covered in blood with a giant, very dead, yokai behind him and a simply preening Matoba. Or in hysterics. Even now with his arms around the boy's shivering form, he was having a hard time focusing on the situation or Matoba's smug ramblings. In all honesty, Natori was at the end of his string.

So when Matoba dared to lunge in and try to pull Natsume from Natori's grasp, he reacted on old instincts and potentially an ingrained response from being around Natsume too much, and punched Matoba in the face. Matoba fell like his strings had been cut. Natori stared. Natsume stilled in shock.

"Did you just…" he trailed off in disbelief before a breathless chuckle left him. Natori started to join him until the chuckle turned into a sob and he suddenly had his hands full of clingy teenager. Natsume's useless pig-cat gave a relieved huff.

"I guess you can be of use, sometimes." He huffed, face turned towards Natori, but eyes looking a little too far to the right to make eye contact. His ears twitched and swiveled, taking in the sounds of battle behind them. Another roar shook the air.

"You wouldn't happen to know how to get a god out of a rage, would you?" Natori asked the spirit.

"I spoke too soon, you are useless." The pig-cat sniffed, sticking his nose in the air. " I would normally be able to take care of this situation myself, but I was stuck in a stupid jar and my awe-inspiring senses have yet to recover."

Natori didn't know why he bothered with the stupid pig-cat of Natsume's sometimes.

"However," the useless spirit continued after a dramatic pause. "I do have a potential idea. Brat, if I make a noise, can you attempt to mimic it?" Natori watched as Natsume's face scrunched up in exhausted confusion.

"Um, I'll try my best, Nyanko-sensei." Natori swore he saw the stupid spirit smile, but maybe it was a trick of the light.

"Good enough." And then the pig-cat chirped. Chirped. Like some obnoxious little bird.

"Nyanko-sensei, I-I can't, I don't -"

"Just try, child."

Natsume sat in silence for a moment, sucking in a hesitant breath. He held it for a moment before quietly releasing it, his shoulders straightening with quiet resolve. He let out a small peep of his own, almost inaudible in the loud room, cleared his throat, and then tried again at Nyanko's urging.

Natori felt his brows raise as a bird-like chirp escaped from the teenager's lips. Entirely inhuman in nature. And the sound carried in the room. The giant god rampaging through the room stilled. Nyanko nudged Natsume, and he cheeped again, more hesitant sounding, quieter, but the sound still carried.

Natori blinked and they were suddenly surrounded in blue fluff and scales. A giant blue head stared at Natsume, inches away from his face. The giant fish-bird-dragon-whatever-it-was let out an inquisitive chirp of its own. Nastume's response seemed almost reflex, his surprised expression making him look younger.

Natori was suddenly engulfed in a tight hug as blue coils surrounded them, squished up against the boy still in his arms. The air felt like it was vibrating, but after a moment, Natori realized it was the god. He was purring. Natsume slumped like jello in Natori's grip, his own vocal chords mimicking the sound and generating a small purr of their own. His eyes were half-lidded and his pupils blown.

Natori was afraid to break the moment. If startled, the giant blue beast could kill them all. Nyanko looked completely unphased, but then again, Natori didn't think that the pig-cat was much himself at the moment either. After what felt like a very long and tense few minutes for Natori, the spirit's purr subsided and its coils loosened enough for Natori to move without touching it by accident.

"Godling-sama," the great spirit rumbled. "It is an honor to meet you, but I think it's time we get you home."

Natori couldn't agree more. Well, that is, he couldn't agree more until all of the spirits started insisting that they ride Misuzu home.

He was out-voted.

…..

Natsume didn't remember a lot of the flight home. He vaguely remembered the feeling of Nyanko-sensei's fur beneath his fingers, and the vibrant color of the blue feathers that would sometimes fly by Misuzu's side. Natori-san's night-chilled fingers had sometimes had to yank him back onto the safety of Misuzu's back when his exhausted body had started to slip. He remembers soft fingers in his hair and excited, unintelligible words directed his way. But it was mostly just a blur of misty breath and the comfort of familiar presences around him.

No one had seemed to mind that he wasn't paying too much attention, so he let himself drift. He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until Natori-san was gently shaking him awake. He wiped muzzily at his eyes while he forced his exhausted body up. He patted Misuzu's back in thanks, and sleepily returned the good night's from his spirit friends before Natori started guiding him towards the house.

Touko-san and Shigeru-san came rushing out the front door once they were within the glow of the front porch light. Natsume wished he had more energy to be excited to see them, but he felt like a large weight was holding him under a fuzzy caress. His thoughts were disjointed and his body hard to direct.

"Natori, did you get him?" Shigeru-san's anxious voice drew Natsume's attention from the sleepy void.

Right, his jacket was destroyed in the kidnapping. The Fujiwara's couldn't see him. Natsume was too tired to cry, but it felt like that is what his soul was doing. This was the final straw after a truly terrible experience at Matoba's hands.

Nyanko-sensei nuzzled up under his chin in silent support.

"He's here. I have him here." Touko-san burst into tears, turning into Shigeru-san's side as she cried in relief. Natori-san looked down at Natsume, a sad smile on his face.

Natori-san, Natsume realized, looked just as exhausted as he felt. The Fujiwara's looked tired as well. Have any of them slept since his kidnapping?

Despite his exhaustion, Natori was still here. And he seemed to know what Natsume and the Fujiwaras needed as well. He gently pushed Natsume forward, and then just as gently pulled at one of Touko-san's hands. She stopped crying for a moment to look up, but let Natori-san softly guide her hand over until it was resting softly on Natsume's shoulder.

Oh.

Oh.

OH. Her warm hand settled like a blanket on Natsume's nerves, and something that had been tensed deep inside of him unfurled for the first time in days. Touko sat in stunned silence for a moment before bursting back into tears as she yanked Natsume to her. He stumped willingly into her embrace, wrapping one of his arms around her torso as he adjusted Nyanko-sensei. Shigeru-san's steady hands slowly joined the embrace, laying comfortingly and protectively around Natsume's shoulder blade.

Natsume laughed through his tears, tightening his embrace just a smidge, saying I'm here, I'm safe as best he could. They returned it, and he felt loved.

He was home.