I'm afraid my previous fic writing experiences are leaking into this one... To be more precise, I can't stop hearing Izaya in fic!Matoba's lines. That's sooo weird...

Chapter 17

"Hmm?" the baritone, smooth voice sliced through the thick tension with the crispness of ice, "looks like I got lucky and picked off the right one. The barrier's down."

"What did you do that for?" he yelled. He clenched his fist so tightly, he felt his nails dig into his palms.

"Oh? Look, another one," the man said. He suddenly froze, though. "Hm? You're…?"

He ignored their conversation and plowed onwards. "The spirits here are just trying to live their life in peace. They didn't do anything wrong! Why are you killing them?" He ignored his lack of dignity or the utter absurdity of him accusing this of strangers. Never mind that the spirits weren't completely innocent – he'd known and turned a blind eye to their thieving, but they had to sustain themselves! – they were his friends and he knew that they did not deserve this fate.

Rather than yell back or stare incredulously, even, the exorcist named Matoba…

…started laughing.

A full-blown guffaw that worked its way from his chest and burst out from his lungs, judging from the way the man was shaking.

"What's so funny?"

"No, sorry, I should be more polite, shouldn't I?" After some effort, Matoba straightened, though still with a twitch to the corner of his lips. "But there's no better proof that you're Natsume than an idealistic, utterly naïve statement like that! That on top of the fact that the fool up there had identified you as the object of revenge."

He'd actually hoped that Matoba wasn't someone he'd ever met in the past, but it looked like he wasn't so lucky.

Matoba wasn't done yet, but this time, any traces slid off his face and all humor disappeared from his voice; the change was so quick that it was unsettling. "Useless thing. It couldn't even carry a simple order out fully. But then again, here you are, before me. So, this is your secret to getting along so well with them? Befriending them? I suppose it's no surprise you sided with the spirits rather than humans."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "There's no difference between spirits and humans. I get along with both of them the same way."

"Hah, a likely rationalization! Is that why you dropped your human form, then?"

Words couldn't work their way past his throat, but his expression must have spoken volumes.

"There's no use denying it. After all, you're appearing in all your quadruped glory, right here, in front of everyone." Matoba spread his arms out wide. He said, in words dripping with honey-coated sarcasm, "Perhaps I should feel honored that you deemed me worthy of showing your true form to, Natsume-sama." A mock bow.

Complete confusion. Utter nonsense. And yet, the man had spoken it with such conviction he couldn't help but give a quick glance down at himself.

Two legs, feet, hands, torso. They were all there, clothed. "What … are you talking about?"

The man narrowed his eyes. "A liar to the end? Or maybe you are merely delusional. That's quite some bluff, when you're standing practically naked in front of me."

"You're lying," he said, he denied.

Too much. Just what was happening? He needed time to process everything, and why did everything have to come up now?

"Lying? Me? I lie almost every day of my life, true, but this one time, you'll find me completely sincere."

He had to be lying. Snapped. The man's finally snapped. That was the only explanation for all this.

"I'm human. I'm on two legs. I have hands and feet and clothes. I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but if you're sincere, then I'll eat my own foot."

"Vehement about this, aren't we? Are you sure that's not just you denying the truth?"

An image came to his mind, from when he'd first awaken with no clue where he was and who he was. Brown claws had stretched before him, flexing in time with him clenching his fists, but at the next blink, the nails were fingers and the fur was replaced by skin.

"That … wasn't a hallucination?" he whispered. Or rather, which was the illusion and which was the truth?

"It's fine by me, either way," the man continued, his voice jerking him out of his thoughts, "Whatever identity crisis you suffer from is no concern of mine. I just have one request, given as an acquaintance and someone was interested in you."

"I'd rather refuse anything that comes from you," he snarled. He was nervous, confused, anxious, but he had to put on a brave front. There were others counting on him. He had to protect them.

"Don't say that," Matoba replied with a transparent smile. "No, really, don't, because normally I would have shot you through the heart the instant I laid my eyes on you. You know I have no lost love for demons and beasts alike. Think of this as a favor, from me to you, for being such an impressive job lying to everyone. Now, I'll ask only once.

"Where is the Yuujinchou?"

Yuu-…jinchou…? He tried to clamp down on any reaction by putting up his best poker face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't be that way. A little bird has already told me about your precious book. There's no use denying this."

Even if he did know anything about it… "I wouldn't give it to you, even if my life depended on it," he said aloud. Even without his memories, this Matoba exuded malice.

"You can't claim I didn't ask nicely. It's not my fault I'm going to resort to brute force."

"Wha-" Before he could choke his words, out, a hand clamped around his neck and he found himself flipped onto his back. He clutched the offending vice grip around his windpipe, tried to pull it away, but the tightness did not let up. He coughed, choking air past his throat but failing to draw any back into his deprived lungs.

He scratched at the man's wrist – and this time he saw his own claws. Now wasn't the time to bother with the details, though. The sharper the better.

Blood flowed, but Matoba bore down on him as persistently as before.

The man leaned forward, and he saw sparks flitting before his eyes. "That's not a good idea, Natsume. Beast or not, I'm still stronger," he said slowly, "Now tell me, where did you hide the Yuujinchou?"

In lieu of a response, he snapped his jaws in fury.

"Where is it?" Impatience bled into his voice. But with oxygen being deprived from his brain, he couldn't even think of any coherent answer. Just as he felt his consciousness leaving him, the pressure disappeared with a yelp.

"Stupid…!"

Gasping for breath, he lay on his back. Deep breaths, one, two… He pushed off the ground, rolling himself around and splaying on his stomach. Craning his neck, he turned to see what was going on.

If it weren't for the severity of the situation, it actually would have been pretty hilarious.

There was Matoba, hopping on one leg and kicking vigorously on the other, and there, clutching for dear life, was little Ren, claws digging into the man's calf and tiny teeth sunk into its flesh. If he weren't such a "proper" man, the exorcist probably would have been cursing the world through all layers of hell.

With a particularly vigorous kick, the tanuki flew straight towards the ground, landing with an "oomph" and rolling a meter before halting.

With a slight limp, Matoba made his way to the Ren. He grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and lifted him off the ground, held him arm's length away at eye-level. He glared at him, still on the ground, trying to lift himself back onto his feet. "I see you've made some friends. Maybe some pressure on others will have more effect than direct pressure on you." With this, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife.

"No! Stop!" he cried, leaping forward but only landing onto face first onto the ground as Matoba slid to the side.

"I never did understand why you cared so much for this trash, but seeing you know, I understand." The cold metal touched Ren's throat, eliciting a barely audible whimper from him. "To think, you were playing me for a fool this whole time," the exorcist ground out through grit teeth, anger marring his face. "And to think, I'd respected you even a smidgen…"

"If you have a grudge, then take it out on me."

"But then there would be no points, since you seem to be utterly immune to all harm directed towards yourself. This works much better."

And the man's arm tensed.

Ren's eyes closed.

He knew he wouldn't make it in time to wrench the boy out in time, but he had to try.

Before he could fling himself forward, though, he found himself flying backwards. Limbs tangled with each other. He waited for the world to stop spinning.

"You fool, what use are you if you can't protect Nushi-sama!" roared Igari, more furious than he'd ever seen him. Ren was caught in the boar's hands and the next moment he knew, the raccoon dog was flying straight towards him. He managed to catch him. Looking down, he saw that the kid had fainted.

"'Nushi-sama?'" echoed Matoba, who was still clutching his hand from where Igari had practically bitten. Red was splashed all over the limb, but it looked still intact. "Hah! Is that the game you've been playing here, Natsume?"

"Nushi-sama," said Igari, who had moved himself between the two, "We cannot have you fall here. Run!"

"I can't just leave you here!"

"Go!"

He hesitated. Ren's warm body was still resting against him. Torn between his two "subjects," he froze.

A smooth voice reached his ears. "What a joke." And his eyes saw a flash of steel.

And the next thing he knew, Igari leaned further and further to the right, and his massive body crashed to the ground, the tremors reaching where he knelt, still clutching Ren.

"You demons just don't know when to give up. You're like flies, swarming towards a lure." Matoba swung the knife towards him, blade still dripping with blood pointed towards him. "Have I convinced you that I'm a man of my word yet? Now, give me the Yuujinchou, if you don't want anyone else getting hurt."