It's like something out of a horror film.
Nishimura's arm changes color rapidly, the curse spreading like some unnatural disease. The bruises bloom deep and wide, and darkness opens up in his eyes — until bright, trusting Nishimura stands there like a shadow in the sun, as wary and suspicious as a mistreated cat.
All because Natori took one look at Fish, wheeling her way eagerly toward Nishimura from where she'd been chatting with some crows on a telephone wire, and tried to banish her.
Kitamoto's face is a thundercloud, his fists clenched tight at his sides. Only Tanuma's gentle hand on his arm is keeping him from blowing forward and picking a fight.
Taki pointedly isn't holding him back, and looks ready to pick a fight of her own.
They can't see the curse, but they can see what it does to him. They can tell when it's bad.
Takashi feels sick with dread and guilt. He should have told Natori about Nishimura's new friend right away. Natori is always so suspicious of even the most harmless ayakashi, Takashi should have known better.
Like everything else, the fault for this can be laid down at Takashi's feet.
Natori lifts a placating hand, and Nishimura clutches his little yokai closer and minces a step back. Natori doesn't move again.
"I'm sorry," the man says carefully. "I didn't mean to cause you any harm."
Takashi is braced for his tone to sound impersonal and too charming, the way it does when he's around people he doesn't really care for, the way it did when Takashi first knew him.
But it doesn't. Natori's voice is calm and patient without bending into condescension. He looks apologetic, genuine, and it doesn't feel like acting.
"Your friends told me you were afflicted by a yokai's touch," he says, putting emphasis on 'friends.' "When I saw one coming toward you, one I didn't recognize, I'm afraid I assumed the worst. Natsume is dear to me, and you're dear to him, so my first instinct was to remove you from danger. Please forgive me."
Nishimura stares at him for what feels like a long time. Takashi can tell he's struggling. It's hard to watch the unfamiliar shadows in his eyes wax and wane while his friend fights his way back.
It probably helps that he knows Natori's face, his voice. And then his eyes dart past the actor to where Natsume is standing, Kitamoto, Taki and Tanuma beside him. His eyes linger there, on his friends, like the sight of them is a touchstone.
And then the darkness shrinks.
Kitamoto sees it first. He blows out a long breath and smiles, even though smiling looks like the last thing he wants to do.
"Hey Satchan," he says, with unmistakable affection, "we've been waiting for you."
Nishimura looks a little dazed, like he isn't sure where he is or how he got there. The distance between him and the rest of the group that he put there when he backpedaled wildly and glared them all away seems to confuse him now.
The curse is getting worse with time. It's sinking roots in Nishimura's mind and growing deeper.
"Natori," Takashi says while the others move ahead, "I know that you're very busy, and you have other things that need your attention. But I can't— I don't know who else to turn to."
Natori looks like he might interrupt, but Hiiragi cuts him off with a sharp gesture. Takashi shoots her a grateful look.
"Nishimura is important to me," he goes on, gaining strength. "He's the first real friend I ever made, and one of the best people I know. He got involved in all this by accident, and stayed involved because he didn't want to leave me alone, and kept my secret even when it was painful to, and now he's hurt."
Takashi's eyes are hot, and his hands are shaking, and he feels like something deep inside him is about to crumple under the weight of everything he's holding.
"Please, Natori," he says. "We met you here to get your advice, but we need your help. I'll do anything you want, anything, if you help me help him."
Nyanko-sensei makes a sound like a sigh. Hiiragi's expression is hidden away behind her mask but she seems to be hiding a sigh of her own.
And then Natori puts a hand on Takashi's head and draws him gently forward into a hug. His arms are solid where they fold around Takashi's shoulders, and one hand stays on the back of his head like a shield, and Takashi can't remember ever being held like this before. It's surprising, a little confusing. He isn't sure why he's being offered comfort when Nishimura is the one who needs it.
Out of nowhere, he remembers when Nishimura told him he had an older brother, and wonders if this is what it feels like. He was right to be jealous, if it is.
"You're smarter than that, Natsume," Natori says. His voice is almost playful, but there's something in the back of it that aches. "I'll be here for as long as you need me."
The hug doesn't last long. Natori draws away while Takashi is still deciding whether or not to return it.
"Nishimura, was it?" Natori says lightly. "I'm afraid our first meeting was a bit of a disaster. Can we try that again? I'll be on my best behavior this time."
And Nishimura's face turns pink. He shuffles around behind Kitamoto for a minute, obviously at a loss for words. It's cute, and his friends don't waste a second teasing him relentlessly for it, and Natori's smile widens a touch.
The bruises on Nishimura's arm are shrinking and fading, color leeching slowly away. But the danger is still there.
Takashi won't let his guard down again. He isn't letting Nishimura go without a fight.