Chapter Text
When Takashi wakes up, it’s dark, and he’s thirsty.
“Sensei,” he rasps, and reaches out.
He touches something warm, but it’s not Nyanko-sensei. He pulls back his hand.
“Dad?” says a voice. Familiar, groggy.
Movement in the darkness.
“Hold on,” says another voice from nearby. Older. Familiar and groggy, too.
Takashi hears a click, then closes his eyes against the low light that fills the room. When he cracks them open again, Tanuma is sitting up beside him.
“Natsume?” Tanuma asks, cautiously. He touches Takashi’s forehead. “I think it’s working!”
Tanuma-san walks over with an electric camping lantern. He touches Takashi’s forehead, too. “He does feel cooler. Takashi? Are you awake?”
Takashi has no idea why they’re here. But then he realizes this isn’t his room. He’s in a shrine, and his futon is pushed right up against the shintai box.
Where’s Nyanko-sensei? Takashi can’t feel him, doesn’t see him. Where is this place? What’s happening?
“Everything’s all right,” Tanuma-san soothes. “You must be thirsty. I have water for you. Can you sit up?”
Takashi reminds himself to be calm. Whatever happens to him, he always has to be calm.
He looks at Tanuma-san and Tanuma. In the low light, all he sees on their faces is care and concern.
Is he still dreaming? Is this really them? Nyanko-sensei isn’t here. They could be yokai pretending to be the Tanumas. Why did they take him here? Do they want the Book?
He’s still wearing his waist pack. He feels the blunted shape of the Book against his back. Yokai or not, if they wanted the Book, they would have taken it already. So that’s not what’s happening.
He sits up. Tanuma-san hands him a cup of water, and Takashi sips until it’s empty.
“May I take your temperature?” Tanuma-san asks.
Takashi lets the thermometer slip under his tongue. When it beeps, it’s taken out. “That’s much better,” Tanuma-san says, relieved. “How do you feel? Do you remember anything about yesterday?”
Takashi remembers Moriguchi, Kiriganuma, coming here, then being in his room, sick, drifting in and out. He remembers other things, but he’s not sure how much of it was real.
He shakes his head once.
“You were very sick,” Tanuma-san says. “Nyanko-sensei agreed that we should bring you here, to see if we could bring down your fever. I’m very happy to say that it’s working.”
Takashi does actually feel better, much better. He looks at Tanuma. If Tanuma-san is telling the truth, if Nyanko-sensei agreed to this—
“Thank you,” Takashi tells them, relaxing. But then he wonders what could possibly be in a shrine that would help a fever? He usually has no choice but to wait them out, no matter what people give him. Is it a secret? Would it be rude to ask? Should he thank them and go back to the Fujiwaras now? Why didn’t Sensei come here too?
He starts to get up, but immediately realizes that’s not a good idea. He leans forward, dizzy.
“Easy,” Tanuma-san urges, steadying him. “You’re still recovering. Just rest for now. Would you like something to eat? Touko-san gave us some soup.”
Takashi rarely has much of an appetite when he’s sick. But he does feel a little hungry. “Okay,” he agrees.
“Would you like some too, Kaname?” Tanuma-san offers.
“I’m okay,” Tanuma says. “Natsume can have the rest.”
Tanuma-san walks out of the sanctuary.
“So, uh,” Tanuma says, looking at Takashi with worry. “You don’t remember anything about yesterday? Everyone came to see you. Sasada and Nishimura and Kitamoto?”
Takashi thinks he remembers that. But he also remembers walking to school with Shigure-sama and Susugi. But if Tanuma says it happened, it must be real. “Yes, I remember.”
“Good,” Tanuma says, relieved. “Do you remember what happened after that? Sensei took your place so you could come here?”
Takashi does remembers seeing himself standing over him. But he assumed that wasn’t real either. Sensei can turn into Reiko, though, so it’s plausible. “Yes,” he agrees.
“Great!” Tanuma says, pleased. “Then you remember what I said about shrines, and my migraine? And your fever?”
Takashi definitely didn’t think that was real. But if it was—
“Oh!” he says, eyes going wide.
That’s why they brought him here. And it worked. His fever was so bad it probably should have lasted for several more days. But he feels better.
He looks at the shintai box. He looks at Tanuma.
This is real. This is—
“You did all this?” Takashi says, as he struggles to even comprehend it. Even after everything that happened when they went to Moriguchi. Even though Takashi utterly failed to be normal, and failed to keep Tanuma safe.
Tanuma somehow figured out a way to heal both of them. He convinced Sensei to help them. And he convinced his father to smuggle Takashi here and attempt a treatment that anyone else would call absurd.
“You, um—“ Takashi says, suddenly trembling. He wipes at his eyes. He’s crying.
“Are you okay?” Tanuma asks, worried.
Takashi wants to be calm and smile for Tanuma and say everything’s fine. But all he can do is turn away to hide his tears.
He’s not sad, he’s isn’t. He’s so, so happy. But it hurts.
The sanctuary door slides open.
“Takashi?” Tanuma-san calls, full of gentle concern. Takashi recognizes the familiar smell of Touko-san’s soup.
Tanuma-san kneels down beside him. He hands his bowl to Tanuma. And then, to Takashi absolute astonishment, Tanuma-san reaches out and pulls Takashi into his arms.
Takashi tenses up completely. He doesn’t know why this is happening. But Tanuma-san’s embrace is warm and easy. He doesn’t seem to care that Takashi isn’t hugging back, and is damping his robe with tears and snot.
Takashi doesn’t know what to do with this kindness. Tanuma-san is even worse than the Fujiwaras. But it’s soothing in a way he can’t understand.
He has a flash of memory, of his father holding him so very long ago, and shudders. He can’t think of things that hurt.
“Sorry,” Takashi stammers, once he can speak. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Tanuma-san soothes, as he lets Takashi go. He offers him the tissue box, and Takashi takes it. “You should have seen me yesterday. I cried my eyes out because my son has finally found something to ease his suffering. Thank you for helping us.”
“I didn’t,“ Takashi protests. “I didn’t know.”
“Then we figured it out together,” Tanuma says, with a grateful smile.
Tanuma-san takes the soup bowl back, then places it into Takashi’s hands. The bowl is warm. “Have as much of this as you can. Then rest. You still have healing to do.”
Takashi eats the soup. To his surprise he actually manages to finish the bowl. But after that he can’t stay awake. He lies back down and curls up under the blanket, facing the shintai, away from the Tanumas.
“You’ll feel even better in the morning,” Tanuma promises. “We can talk more then, about everything.”
He sounds so excited and happy.
He shouldn’t. Takashi doesn’t make humans happy.
He had no idea shrines could help migraines or fevers. They’re a refuge and protection, and he was already deeply grateful to have all of that. It’s selfish to ask for more.
Takashi wouldn’t have asked for this. He would bear his fevers like he always has. But Tanuma shouldn’t suffer.
Tanuma is the first human Takashi’s ever told about the protection of shrines. Telling any human anything about the spirit world still feels catastrophic. It’s always been a mistake. But now Tanuma is better. He’s happy and he wants to know more. And Tanuma-san, too.
Takashi starts to cry again. Tears run sideways across his face, but he refuses to let out any noise. They’ve already done so much for him, he can’t upset them. He has to be calm.
It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
It’s nice, lying right next to the shintai. It feels safe and soothing, like shrines always have.
Thank you, he thinks to the being in the shintai. Even though it’s not a yokai, maybe it can see into his soul like yokai can. It can see how incredibly grateful he is for all of its protection. But especially for how it protected Tanuma.
Like Nyanko-sensei, he realizes. Maybe if Tanuma has the protection of Nyanko-sensei and the shrines, maybe that will be actually be enough. Maybe it really is safe for them to be friends now.
Takashi can hardly afford more offerings, but he can set aside more of his bento. Or all of it, if he has to. He’ll give up all his lunches if it keeps Tanuma safe.
Will Kitamoto and Nishimura still let him sit on the roof with them, if he has nothing to eat? He hopes so. They’re so kind, they’ll probably try to share their own lunches with him. But he can’t take so much from them. And he doubts they’ll believe him if he says he’s not hungry.
He’ll figure it out somehow.
In the morning, his fever is almost completely gone. He still has a cold, and he’s a little warm, but the improvement is dramatic.
Too dramatic. If he goes back to the Fujiwaras now—
“I have an idea,” Tanuma-san says. He helps them gather everything up.
Takashi hesitates at leaving the shrine, but Tanuma follows his father without concern. Takashi bows deeply to the shintai, then follows them.
Once they’re in the house, Tanuma-san picks up the phone in the hallway and dials. “Touko-san! Good morning. How are you and Shigeru? I wanted to check in and see how Takashi is doing.” He listens. “That is a good sign. Kaname is feeling much better, too. I’m going to keep him home from school for today, but we’ll visit again this afternoon. When Takashi is awake, would you mind passing all that along to him?” He listens again, then says goodbye.
“That should take care of things,” Tanuma-san declares. “Nyanko-sensei has a head start on us. He’s been eating, so it already looks like you’re getting better. I think he’ll understand my message, that the treatment worked. When we bring you back, the Fujiwaras should expect you to be the way you are now.”
Takashi stares at Tanuma-san in utter astonishment. It already bewildered him before, when Tanuma-san lied to the Fujiwaras about Moriguchi and Kiriganuma. But now he’s covering for the end of Takashi’s fever, and passing coded messages to Nyanko-sensei?
All those yokai must have been wrong. Tanuma-san and Tanuma can’t actually be humans. They must be noble beings like Nyanko-sensei. They live in a temple, and Tanuma-san can make that incredible purifying wave, even stronger than Nyanko-sensei’s purifying light.
But would a noble being get migraines and go to school? Nyanko-sensei certainly wouldn’t. Maybe Tanuma-san is a noble being, but Tanuma is human? And he’s protecting Tanuma like Nyanko-sensei protects Takashi?
Yes. It all makes sense!
Should Takashi start addressing him as Tanuma-sensei? Tanuma-sama? No, he obviously doesn’t want anyone else to know the truth.
Takashi bows to Tanuma-san in deep respect. “Thank you so much for all your kindness.”
Tanuma-san seems a little startled, but smiles. “Sit down, I’ll make us breakfast.”
Takashi should really be the one giving Tanuma-san food. But he is hungry. And he feels better now that he’s figured all this out. Tanuma has two noble beings protecting him as well as the shrines. That should definitely be enough.
When Tanuma smiles at him over breakfast, Takashi actually finds himself smiling back. It’s like a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders. And maybe being soaked in shrine power and the sudden end of his fever has left him a little euphoric.
Tanuma really is like him. He mentioned his mother dying young. He must actually be an orphan like Takashi. Maybe Tanuma-san has been his bodyguard for so long, it’s made their relationship like a real father and son. Nyanko-sensei is already closer to Takashi than anyone. Is this what they’ll be like one day? But his own cranky bodyguard isn’t very fatherly.
Tanuma must have asked Tanuma-san to protect Takashi, too. Just like Takashi asked Nyanko-sensei to protect Tanuma. Maybe they both have two divine beings now, along with the shrines.
A strange feeling comes over Takashi. He felt it before, when he made his promise to Nyanko-sensei. And when the Fujiwaras asked him to live with him. He can’t quite find the words for it. But it feels— Warm, somehow.
“I’ll show you around the temple after breakfast,” Tanuma says.
Tanuma looks so happy, it makes Takashi’s eyes tear up. He dabs them with his napkin. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“Oh! We can figure out where to put the vegetable garden,” Tanuma says. “It’s mostly forest here, but there’s some open areas that get plenty of sun. Mostly where the rest of the temple used to be? Dad says it’s okay to use it.”
“Give Takashi something to wear for outside, so he’s not running around in his pajamas,” Tanuma-san says.
“Sure. But we’re just gonna look,” Tanuma says. “I think my cold’s almost gone. But you’re still a little sick, right?” he asks Takashi. “I get spirit fevers and regular fevers. How about you?”
“Yes,” Takashi says, and despite everything it still feels utterly unreal to be talking about this. “But there’s always yokai around. So it’s. Hard to tell.”
“They are always around,” Tanuma agrees. “Not all of them give me migraines, though. Not being able to see them— Now that I know they’re actual people, there’s so much I want to ask.”
Did Tanuma-san not explain yokai to Tanuma? He did ask for Takashi’s guidance in that letter. Maybe he’s never needed to learn about them until now, if he’s been blasting yokai away all the time. He really is incredibly powerful.
But then Takashi remembers. Tanuma-san can’t see yokai. He’s a spirit who can’t see his own kind? Was he born like this? Did he lose his sight somehow?
Takashi suddenly finds himself with a lot of questions, too. But he doesn’t want to be rude, after everything Tanuma-san has already done for him.
“I’ll try to answer,” Takashi says to Tanuma. “But until recently—“ He pauses, the words getting harder to say. “Most yokai don’t like humans. So I just— Tried to stay away.”
“That’s how you found the safety of shrines?” Tanuma-san asks.
Takashi nods.
“It must have been incredibly frightening, to be faced with that,” Tanuma-san says, gently. “My son and I both have many questions. But they can wait until you’re ready.”
Takashi wants to tell them he’s fine. He already owes them so much, the least he can do is answer their questions. But even the idea of talking about all that steals away his euphoria and warmth, and pulls his throat tight. He can’t even speak to apologize.
“Don’t worry about it,” Tanuma says, full of the same gentle concern as his bodyguard. “The last couple days have been a lot. Let’s just hang out and have fun.”
The tightness eases. “Yes,” Takashi manages to say.
It’s fine. Everything’s fine. He focuses on his breakfast, even though his appetite was stolen away, too. Tanuma-san clearly wants him to eat everything he’s served, the way Touko-san does. There isn’t much left anyway, so he forces it down.
“There’s something special I want to show you,” Tanuma says, after breakfast, as they walk down the hall to his bedroom.
Tanuma’s bedroom is simple but comfortable, like all of Yatsuhara. The only thing unusual is his western-style bed. The room has many personal touches. Photos on his western-style desk of the Tanumas at different places, with different people, going back to when Tanuma was very young. A bookcase filled with books on various topics, fiction, manga, and more framed photos.
A book on vegetable gardening is out on his desk, and one about South America. The gardening book has a label from the local library, the same one Reiko used. The blanket on his bed looks handmade. So does the ceramic pencil holder on his desk.
Takashi doesn’t know much about Tanuma’s life before now. But even though they both moved to Hitoyoshi recently, this bedroom feels nothing like Takashi’s. It’s full of people Tanuma must care for, and who care for him back, even though they’re not here.
Tanuma points up at the ceiling. “Look up there!”
Takashi looks. There’s light and shadows reflecting from outside. A pattern of shimmering water, and then fish swimming through it. It’s pretty and relaxing, no wonder Tanuma likes it.
“You have a pond in your yard?” Takashi asks.
“Not exactly,” Tanuma answers. “We’re the only ones who can see this.”
Tanuma walks over to the outer wall and slides the panels open, revealing a tree and a good-sized koi pond, in a garden overgrown with weeds and long grass.
Takashi wonders why the backyard has been left to grow wild. It doesn’t look like anyone has tended to it in ages. But the Tanumas hardly seem like they’d be neglectful.
And then Takashi realizes. This whole garden must be part of the spirit world. Tanuma can see the reflections, but not the pond or the plants around it. They must be too weak for Tanuma to see directly, even as shadows. What does he see here? The tree, the rocks? A tended yard?
Takashi wonders if Tanuma would be able to see the shadow of the white crow, or the weeds he pulled from the Fujiwaras’ garden. Would he be able to touch them if Takashi touched them with him, like he was able to touch Santo and Mikuri, and Sensei’s true form?
Takashi should stay away from Tanuma, far away. But he doesn’t think he can. He just has to hope their shared guardians will be enough, that the shrines will be enough.
“Dad thinks we should feed the fish,” Tanuma says. “We tried throwing peas and cabbage leaves around, but they just sat on the grass. Maybe if you throw them, they’ll reach the pond.”
Takashi stares at the pond. He stares at Tanuma, and the shimmering light on his smiling face. Something about him makes Takashi want to never look away.
But he looks away anyway.
“I’ll get you some clothes,” Tanuma says. He heads back inside, leaving the door open.